Some Call it Schematics, Others Call it Fighting.

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Some Call it Schematics, Others Call it Fighting. Empty Some Call it Schematics, Others Call it Fighting.

Post by War Torn on Thu Jul 27, 2017 5:12 am


{A Heaping dose of intent and a teaspoon of Archeology.}

Steer Cottonworth was a man of words and actions, his job required more of the second but he enjoyed the first. The ERRA (Earth Relic Recovery Association) was as interested in visiting, pin pointing, and studying relics and buildings ‘of the past’ on other worlds and dimensions as it was the ‘Earth’ Steer came from. They were more than happy to send out agents to investigate such things and every the subtle anxious fellow that he was, he happily took on the job. Now where this Arena was and what the locale politically owning it was did not matter one bit. It was a free reign or so it seemed from the various people walking in and out of it, for a visit, for some food and most importantly for a fight. For Steer this was a BEYOND easy job. Everyone he even hinted the place he was looking for knew what it was, everyone seemed to know where it was and best of all? It was a relic of the past that was used in various helpful ways. His job was practically done before he got here, but for a man that both lived to work and lived to move anywhere his feet could take him, this place, this Arena of the hundreds he visited and (always) enjoyed was perfect.

Currently sipping on a native soda (it tasted like vanilla coke!) and occasionally taking a bite out of some chewy meat (that had better texture but tasted like a beef bratwurst) the Whimsical Martial Artist found himself outside one of the tens perhaps hundreds of arched exits/entrances to the Arenas viewing section and just inhaled the air about him. It was fresh, it was pleasant, and yet at the end, like it should be with ALL places such as this…it told of the brutal sport and non-sport that was fighting.

“Thhhhhaaaaaaattttttt is a good smell.”

He hadn’t smelt it since he fought in that multi-cultured former fighting-school with the other traveling Martial Artist; Ryu. Details were sketchy on what happened (because for all intent and purposes, that fight is STILL going on), but both left with a definite sense of respect for each other, one that Steer, despite having random and planned and war like battles some good some bad some horrific, had nagging the back of his head. He wanted something like it again, in its purest form or escalated to a point he thought enjoyable but still keeping on track with things. Finishing the glass contained soda, the disposed of the bottle and swiped a hand through the pale white skin of his forehead and likewise snow white hair. A good subtle feeling quickly abolished by the mid afternoon heat, but who was Steer to complain? His head often tilted up, a quirky if not hazy looking smile and ‘mood’ forming on his face and in his eyes before yelping away in glee or agony at a fight going on. Some went one way some went the others, nothing was wrong with either but both were the key word for all involved; fun.

Nodding to himself at the thought, Steer placed his free hand in the pockets of his blue ‘School’ hoodie. Sandal sock and leather made sandals clung to his feet as he paced down steps and plopped into a seat, sighing contently and stretching lazily, pure blue eyes gazing up watching a falcon duel overhead with an eagle.

“…What a foreboding image.”

Or so Steer though…or perhaps hoped for. Squirming in his seats his sights turned downward towards the fighting ring, aptly dubbed a ‘pit’ by most. To Steer it was quite a pleasant entertaining sight; a melee of various fighters and ability flingers. Some simple, some thought provoking, some direct and some tactful, all entertaining and making Steer nod in the end. Work kept him here, that was a fact, but a certain sense and need for a form of combat boiled in his blood…Now, just how does one exactly go about obliging that here? Loud open challenge in the center? Arranged through a Ref? The barbaric if not ever prevalent ‘start where you first swing’? Regardless, enjoyment was to be had either way…and Steer had three days to himself, intent on enjoying them one way or another.

(OOC: Open fight, PM or contact me if you have my over messaging info and well, either go over details or ask for a duel in general, either way; have at me!)
War Torn
War Torn
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Salty Dog

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Join date : 2014-12-07

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