[Spinning Coin] Ringside Seats (CLOSED)

[Murdoch]

38th Day of Winter, 509 AV

Doc leaned against the ropes that'd been tied up to delineate the edges of the fighting ring, breathing coming a little hard as he stared at his opponent. "Petching ringer," he groaned, shooting the other man a rather unfriendly sort of smile.

He stood in front of the screaming crowd in only a pair of undyed linen pants, the usual attire allowed in fights that kept anyone from hiding armor or weapons. One simple dagger was dangling from the fingers of his right hand, casually as if none of this were a big deal. He was glistening just a little from the heat of the firepits that kept the place warm in the winter months, and from the exertion of the first round of fighting. He'd only taken one real cut to his left forearm, and that hand was sticky with blood but he doubted it would slow him down much.

His opponent was a guy named Toothless Pete, an unintimidating man of short stature and questionable hygiene, and Doc hadn't really anticipated it being as hard a fight as it was. But the little bastard was scrappy, and had kept him on his toes throughout the first round. Now he knew better, and adjusted his expectations and his fighting style in preparation for the second round.

A woman padded up to his side, her clothing leaving little to be desired. "You want a drink?" she asked, batting her lashes as she offered him a shot of whisky.

Murdoch gave her a roguish grin and lifted one articulate brow as he swiveled to lean over the rope and run his eyes along her body. "More than a drink, love," he chuckled slyly, reaching out to cover her hand in his for a single heartbeat before he took the glass. "But I'm afraid I'm a tad busy at the moment. Perhaps you can buy me another drink after the fight?"

The woman blushed and tittered, which twisted his grin into something like real amusement as he downed the shot. She took the glass back, and before she could step away again he snuck a kiss to her cheek, which turned a bright pink in response as she playfully swatted at him.

"Hey!" a voice called from across the ring. "You 'ere to fight or what? Ain't got all petching night," Toothless Pete grumbled.

"Pipe down, ugly," Murdoch called back, rolling his eyes as he settled the dagger more firmly in his hand. "Don't blame me if you can't get a pretty girl to bring you a drink," he laughed.

[Murdoch]

His taunts didn't endear him to his opponent, who just growled and launched himself across the ring - a bit faster than Doc had thought him capable of moving.

Murdoch twisted the knife in his grip so that the top of the blade lay against the inside of his wrist, fingers still curled around the hilt and the sharp edge of it ready to wound his enemy. It was a tactic he'd seen his brother use in the ring, giving him to ability to both punch and cut with his right hand depending on whether he flicked the blade outward or followed through with it.

As Pete advanced on him, the two men danced in circles for a moment. Doc's hand flicked out and made a feint at Pete's ribs, which the man jumped backwards to block. Doc took that split-second opportunity to dart forward and slam full-body into the other man, trying to catch his wrist to keep from getting cut again. Pete hadn't quite landed when Doc slammed into him, and was thrown just a tad off-balance. Doc swung his right hand in an upper cut to his opponent's jaw, connecting without any great amount of force - but he followed through, and his blade sliced into Pete's chin in a perfect center line, spraying a bit of blood on Doc's cheek.

The other man seemed to feel the cut, but he didn't fall back. Instead he kicked his knee into Doc's inner thigh with frightening accuracy. He gave a grunt of pain and wobbled a little as his left leg tried to collapse, and - fearing the blade that waited mere inches from his face - he brought his dagger down and made another swipe at Pete's face.

He missed this time, missed wildly, but only because Pete jumped backwards again. Doc released his grip on the other man's wrist, letting him get away and giving himself a moment to regain his balance and try out his now-wounded leg. It hurt, but it would hold his weight.

Pete stood a second and wiped blood from his chin and neck, glaring at Doc. "Oh, what?" Doc said dryly. "Like that's what's gonna keep you from getting a piece of ass?"

The other man's face went red and he squared himself up and lept again.

[Murdoch]

Pete threw himself at Doc, and the taller man danced around a moment as he tried to fend off the attack - but again, the man was too quick for him. He saw the blade coming for him once more, and this time he couldn't get his own weapon up in time to deflect it. Instead he blocked with his left arm, and felt metal bite into his flesh.

Before he could do more than grunt from the pain of it, Pete was aiming a blow at his face, trying to take revenge for Doc's hit. This time he got his blade up and managed to intercept it, but just barely; the clang of iron pinged! across the ring once, twice, and a third time as the men hacked at each other in close quarters.

Doc caught the other man's wrist just as his own was snagged in a tight grip, and they locked with each other in a battle of strength, each blade aimed for the other's throat. The crowd roared at this turn of events, a deafening sound battering at Doc's sense, but he tried his best to focus on keeping himself alive through this little bout.

He groaned as Pete grunted and the blade slithered a half-inch closer to his throat.

[Murdoch]

There was a gasp from the crowd as Pete's blade continued to creep closer to Murdoch's throat, and there seemed little the man could do to prevent his eventual demise. But this was Doc - and if he was going to die, well, he'd do it with a quip.

"It's a shame we never got to be friends," Doc ground out, voice as strained as the muscles of his arms as he battled to overcome the other fighter's strength. "I really think with just a few simple tips, maybe a haircut, I could improve your quality of life at least twenty percent. Possibly even thirty, depending on how much money you've got budgeted for wardrobe."

He saw what he'd been waiting for - hatred, pure and burning, burst like soap bubbles behind Pete's dark eyes. The toothless man gave an indecipherable yell of rage, and drew back just a fraction of an inch so he could properly jam the blade into Doc's stupid, taunting grin.

Doc, being much less upset about the whole thing, kept his head about him. When Pete pulled back, Doc tightened his grip on the hilt of his knife. And when he saw the other man's blade making for his face, he planted his feet and made his move.

As the whistle of steel made its way towards him, he twisted half an inch to his left and ducked back, and he watched as the knife swung so close to his face that it actually nicked the tip of his nose. At the same moment, he snaked his own blade around and up, and with unfailing accuracy it slammed right into the center of Pete's hand.

The man gave a hoarse shriek of pain and automatically dropped his own blade to the mat as the crowd howled and roared in reaction.

Doc pulled his blade out as quickly as he'd sunk it in, and backpedaled a few steps to be sure that the other man wouldn't keep coming. Pete just grabbed his right hand in his left as blood started pouring out of it, cussing and screaming at someone to get him a towel. Without hesitation, Doc yanked a handkerchief from his back pocket and sheathed his knife in the same moment, then retraced his steps back to his opponent. "Here," he said, offering it to him with a dry smile. "No hard feelings, bud. It was a good fight. If Gene doesn't pay for someone at the Bathhouse to fix that up for you, it's on me," he said, knowing he's get more than enough coin from the house for winning this fight.

Before he could even hear Pete's response, several people rushed the ring to congratulate him as bouncers began trying to clear the space to make room for the next fight. The scantily-clad woman reappeared as if by magic, cooing over his bleeding arm and offering to make it all better. "Oh, I'm sure you will, love," he snickered, slinging his good arm over her shoulders and letting her lead him over to collect his winnings.

[Nisaba]

Grade Complete: XP Award! Name: Murdoch   XP Award Daggers- 3 XP Rhetoric- 1 XP Flirtation- 1 XP Seduction- 1 XP I gave a point for both fliration and seduction because of a sort of suggestive nature in the dialogue. There was the playful interest there which suggests flirting, plus a (successful) attempt to extend influence over the woman's behavior, that is, get her into bed.   Lore Award Being Half Naked in Front of a Crowd Underestimating an Opponent Flirting While in the Middle of a Fight Taunting an Opponent Realization that Death May Be Imminent Staying Calm in the Face of Danger Being Generous to the Man that Just Tried to Kill Me A Woman's Touch Can Make Almost Anything Better   Ledger + 20 gold mizas for winning the bout Additional Note Injury- Depending on the depth and severity of the gash on Doc’s arm, it may take between 7 and 21 days to heal to the point where it is no longer sore or in need of consideration. Make sure you disturb the cut as little as possible during this time, avoiding any activity that will reopen the wound or rupture the fragile scab, unless you intend to play it out or, at least, realize this will cause more damage/scarring to his arm; and if you plan on having him use it as normal (say, another fight), make sure to add in the fact that it will most likely be painful/uncomfortable or have issues in movement for at least a week- no matter how hard the woman at the ringside worked to ‘make it better.’ During the fight scene, you did say ‘he,’ ‘him,’ and ‘his’ a lot, which made me a little confused as to which of the two fighters you were talking about. Other than that, though, it was an exciting and interesting thread to read. The action was fast-paced, and there was a lot of detail to keep it balanced. At a couple parts, I forgot I was reading a training thread, which often carries the connotation of being boring (this was definitely not). I wasn’t sure exactly about the money to be awarded at the end of the match, something worthy of risking one’s life but not too much that would be unrealistic, so you may want to double check that part especially.