Alumni [Closed - Iwa]

[Laimbeer]

Iwa Kesseki ●

Laimbeer eyed the snakeskin pelt hung above the door. Tonight was to be headlined with vicious bouts. Personally he'd never fought in anything but them. The other formats always failed to excite him enough, with some of them being based on points per strike. Mainly though, it was the presence of an officiating third-party that dampened whatever rush he sought from those kinds of fights. In any case, the presence of the snakeskin instead of the more common rabbit pelt meant he didn't have to worry about watching a bloodless bore-fest. They'd used to call it the Snakeskin Guarantee. Ducking a tad to get in through the crooked wooden door, Laimbeer watched his step, avoiding the trickling stream of bloodied water flowing out from the fight ring and towards the large drain system. He reached in his jacket to pull the ticket Denis had given him the other day but Ziggy would have no part of it. The demon sighed as he'd even put his hood up in an attempt to enter incognito. Laimbeer, for better or for worse, was more than well-recognised around here and entered the viewing area nonchalantly, ticket still in his pocket. If this wasn't what it was, maybe he could've given the ticket to Ruka and he could spend some more time with her. He should've predicted Ziggy would let him for free, anyhow. That being said, Laimbeer feared the scenario in which Ruka enjoyed the event so much that she'd drag him to all future ones. Tonight seemed hardly different from the rest. At least that's what the demon had thought before Denis forced the ticket on him. One of the fighters tonight had been moved up to this timeslot, from the Rabbit Pelt roster. Typically, Laimbeer knew such instances to be pretty merciless matchups, mostly to collect on anyone foolish enough to believe in a severely disadvantaged underdog. It wasn't just skill that separated the Snakeskins from the Rabbit Pelts, it very often turned out to be race, too. Demons, Vampires, and the rare Angel tended to dominate Snakeskin nights, due to their inherent power floors being so high relative to other races. There were exceptions of course but they almost exclusively started as 'skins, never leaping up from pelt. Maybe the ringleader just wanted to watch a pushover match, de-stress by it. Laimbeer leaned on the stone railing of the viewing balcony and looked at the empty dirt ring. Dirt? It was usually just a wooden floor. Maybe they were really cheaping out. Dried blood and some viscera speckled the brown surface. Hardly uncommon as Snakeskins fought with little rules beyond 'Don't hurt the audience' and 'Stay in the ring'. Laimbeer supposed that he'd already missed some of the entry-level fights. Laimbeer had been 'graduated', the underground way of saying 'too reliable to be place bets against', and as such, he was barred from fighting. He wasn't offended, a lossless record tended to break the confidence of gamblers and the House disliked infinitely favourable odds. The only thing Laimbeer really had to grapple with was the boredom he'd felt in the months after being cut loose. His nighttime trips provided him the fix now, though. Being able to spend more time with Ruka was another big plus. Rolling himself a cigarette, he sighed with anticipation, hoping he'd not wasted his time in coming back here as a spectator. Laimbeer was supposed to pay a visit to a rather sneaky tailor shop in the Halfling Slums tonight but he'd dipped to come here. The old announcer began to make his way to the center of the ring.

LAIKA OF GS!