Cage Fight, Win Money

Broke.

Again.

What was a girl and her family consisting of a chaotic shaman and singing dove to do?

"Vincent! We're out of cash, so I'm going out. Remember to meditate before bed."

Said shaman glanced up from his book, scowling as Celtic exited her room and floated into the kitchen. Vincent grumbled under his breath, thoroughly chewing on this information. "Cel, you don't have to worry about our money; I can take care of it-" He choked on his spit when he took in the merciless, tenacity of her glare from across the island.

It was final. She would go.

The young girl departed her guardian with a brief hug and promises to return unharmed. Like she would lose! Bah!

Night in Portland swept forth the darker corners of life. Sex, drugs, murder.. Icy wind wrapped the city in an uncomfortably tight embrace. Winter was drawing to an end- spring, soon, would arrive. Until it did, Portland shifted and stirred like a living man in a casket. Cel trudged down the streets in black, hunting boots. The faded ruby of her cloak stood in great contrast to the cities droning green imagery.

Finally, the teen approached the door to a seemingly regular building. Click! Locked in. Remember the passageway, don't meander. Walk down the hall, turn left. Wave to Ray's mom, grab your CF mask, head past the living room and make another right. Knock on the door. Flash your mask and head for Hell's Pit.

Hell's Pit took the shape of a tuba-ware bowl, yet bore the marks of fresh blood. She was beautiful. Most traveled here to burn money, others to enjoy a good brawl. And a select came to see her. It flattered Cel, truly, but the last thing she wanted was some ass twice her age thinking she would take jobs for them. Bah. Her honor could not stand for it.

Tonight, the Pit gravitated eight dozen viewers, fighters included. Quite a few for a so-called 'well kept secret'. Cel tied on the mask she made for the Pit. It's design was a hollowed skull with a large gold star painted between the eyes. Everyone was permitted to wear a mask when they joined Pit for the safety of identity.

Celtic settled onto the line-up bench, patiently waiting for Ray's gravel voice to call her name. Only three other fighters were before her; Moxx, Render, and Sy. Each of them worthy opponents. The challenger could probably get Moxx, but there was no way they were taking out Render.

'Great, now I'm lost.'

Drakon walked through the streets of a strange city, everything around him looked like they wanted to kill him, a strange feeling he hadn't felt since training in the jungles of his dimension. He had decided to explore the city a bit, to see if there was anything worthwhile in this place, when suddenly a couple of men standing around a door yelled for his attention. "'Ey you, kid! You look pretty tough. I'd be willing to bet you could beat any of these slackers in this joint, so I'll make ya a deal: You enter this fight, I bet on ya, and we both walk away with a little money in our pockets, ya dig?"

Drakon stared at the human in front of him, "Are you serious? First, I'm not one to fight for money, I fight only for myself, and second of all-" He stopped when he felt a sudden urge, the bloodlust of the dragon, calling him to take on the challenge. "I'll do it." They opened the doors and led him inside, and Drakon could just barely hear their whispers of them becoming rich, but all he could hear was the blood rushing through his head, "I can't believe I agreed to do this...I feel like a dog, fighting for scrap money." Once he saw his opponents, his mood lifted slightly, they seemed strong enough to test his strength on, especially one of them...a girl, with dark skin, sitting in the line-up benches. He could sense her power was higher than that of the others.

When they got to the line-up benches, the man who had taken him in whispered in his ear, "Good luck, you'll need it! Don't forget, I'm bettin' on ya!" Then he rushed off to his seat to watch the matches unfold. "Hmph...he's a little too enthusiastic, I'm not the strongest in the world or anything." He took his seat next to the girl he had sensed and introduced himself, "Hello, I'm Drakon, Drake for short, if you don't mind me asking, what's your name?" He moved his tail slightly to get more comfortable.

She couldn't exactly tell you when she knew another mutant was near, but she did. It was almost like a gut feeling. Cel had never been more grateful for Ray's mask rule than at that moment because when saw the boy's tail, her mouthed dropped.

Several moments of silence passed by before she could properly speak. Her mask remained facing the fights. "Here, I am called Cage," the girl almost laughed at the way here voice sounded. Almost. For a moment, she recalled when she had joined her first dojo. A boy had tried to be her friend too, but when she beat he and his friends to a bloody pulp, he was horrified.

Sighing, Celtic glanced at Render as his name was called. Her attention was drawn back to the other on her left. "If you can't control whatever it is you are, then leave now. These men want a fair fight."

The Black Angel had been sent to Portland on another task for O.C.E.A.N, a fairly simple one... A corrupt politician, who'd been acting more like a crime boss, having people who tried to out his crimes murdered at an alarming pace. He had a taste for expensive alcohols, Cuban cigars, and exotic women, the Black Angel fit the bill, so it was not easy for her to get his attention. A five star meal, a pricey hotel room, and another kill later, and the Black Angel found herself alone in Portland with nothing to do until morning, when she was flying back to O.C.E.A.N headquarters. She liked Portland, the seedy nature of its streets, the smell of the Pacific, its raucous nightlife... It reminded her of home in Hong Kong in a way, it certainly had the rough aspect Hong Kong possessed, that much was clear to the Black Angel in her short stay in Portland. So what else was she to do but delve into that darkness a bit? After all.... How much trouble could a girl get into in one night?

The Black Angel walked the cold, frosty, lonely streets of Portland wearing an Italian brown leather jacket, with a plain grey tank top underneath, while tough blue jeans and worn hiking boots gave her the appearance of a local. Perhaps a Chinese sailor? Working on the many ships that made berth in Portland's harbor. Whatever the case, she didn't draw to much attention to herself, at least nothing that would make people think.... Meta. No, certainly not this pretty, delicate looking, girl from the east, who turned her face to protect it from the howling wind. There was something about the way wind blew off the water, which seemed to numb deepinto a persons bones, and into their core... And their was also something about the way alcohol warmed the core, which made the Black Angel want to get a drink.

Luckily, she was walking down what appeared to be Portland's street for local watering holes, and she had her pick of dive bars to chose from. None stood out from the other, as all of them seemed generic... Accept for one, which had a skull on the sign which hung from its door. "Hmmm.... port city, a skull, seedy looking people standing outside.... Seems like the perfect place for me!" the Black Angel thought to herself as she began to walk towards the far end of the street, where the bar was located. It wasn't far, but she was looked at by enough people that either looked like they wanted to rob her, or worse... That she practically thought she was going to have to show her true colors before she even walked into the bars doors. However, it was a good thing for them she didn't, as she quickly made it to the entrance of the bar.

Fighting some wannabe trying to rob her, or so Psycho trying to grope her, would have only drawn unwanted attention to the Black Angel. Lately, fighting seemed utterly pointless to the Black Angel, who noticed a decided change within her. More and more the "Dance of Death", or "Ballet of Fighting", seemed truly that.... A dance... A dance which she knew the steps to, both her own, and her opponents, the outcome of victory all but assured for the Black Angel. Something within her was changing, or evolving.... She'd known this for some time... It started in Chicago, now she'd had a few more uncharacteristic outbursts and was feeling more powerful still. Deep down she felt it had something to do with what the Triad had done to her during "Program Jade".

The Black Angel walked into the seedy bar and immediately could tell she'd made a good choice.... This bar wasn't the typical dive, no it seemed they were hosting cage fights! This was made obvious by the bars emblem, a skull, making its appearance as a pit in the floor, from which it seemed fighters would fight one another. "Hmmmm.... Haven't seen one of these in a few years... Not since... Hmmmmm... Slovakia... 07." the Black Angel thought to herself, truly interested. However, she was here for another reason. Which she made apparent as she made her way to the bar, ordered two shots of strong Russian Vodka, and quickly put each back with relative ease.

The place seemed lively, perhaps a hundred people at the bar, or at seats watching the fights. It was filled with various types of people, probable crime bosses, gambling addicts, whores, people that loved the sight of blood.... Whatever the case it beat staying in a hotel for the night. So the Black Angel made her way to the seats very close to where the benches were positioned for the competitors to sit. The Black Angel thought of a few possibilities, perhaps she could find a worthy recruit for O.C.E.A.N, perhaps if she threw back a couple more vodka shots she'd even enter the cage? Whatever the case.... She'd be throwing back a few more shots... And maybe, just maybe she'd be tempted to enter into the cage...

Drakon grinned a bit, 'Controlling my power? Heh, you don't know the half of it.' He responded with a normal tone, however, "If you mean can I control my fire breath and dragon forms, than yes...to a point." He left the conversation at that as he heard his name was called, "Well, I guess I'll see you after this." He got up slowly and walked into the oddly-shaped arena, to face his new opponent. He seemed ready to fight, so Drakon got into his fighting stance, his tail slightly to his left, swaying up and down, ready to lash out as if it had a mind of its own. He had no idea what this human could do, but he hoped that he would at least give him a good challenge, he hated to overpower a foe completely. He pushed back the bloodlust of the dragon within him, focusing on his battle strategy to take his mind off of it.

Ray, the Pit's owner and announcer smiled brightly as he picked up his microphone, subtly watching the challenger enter the arena. "And here he is folks, in his... meta-human glory!" Gruff chuckles echoed around the Pit. The owner flashed a yellow-toothed sneer. He slowly circled the one with the dragon, cautious of where he stepped.

"Tonight, this meta will clash with a pure-blooded human. Gentlemen-and lady," Ray gestured towards Celtic sitting on the bench. Said teen growled, crossing her arms over her chest in clear disapproval. "Put your red hands together for the Renderrrrrrrrrrrrr!"

Render. Celtic almost laughed. She enjoyed the attitude he displayed towards the few meta's that fought here; he didn't sympathize nor envied such beings with extraordinary abilities. Their relationship was something delicate- a friendship built on blood. He didn't who or what she was outside of the Pit, and honestly, he could care less. Just the fact that Render possessed the personality of narcissistic woman who broke a nail, kept her coming back here. Oh, and the money. Mainly the money.

Render stood at the top of the ridge. A buzz of barely contained energy lifted the room. Lose or not, watching Render fight could be both amazing as starting a fire and as disgusting as watching birth happen on a full stomach. His arms lifted above his head, palms facing the pit. The crowd exploded, throwing beer bottles and shirts. He thought he eyed a thong fling across the cage- no, no. Focus.

Render made his way, lights glinting on his mask. Red stripes crossed along the cheekbones, larger ones glowing along the temple. Rumors spoke of the 'paint'actually being blood from fights won. No one could really tell for sure, but the red was darker than store paint... The man entered the Pit, head lolled to one as he studied his opponents appearance. After some awfully tense moments, Render nodded at the boy.

"You ready, MetaFreak?" The question in nature bordered on being unacceptably rude, but Render's tone came out as a mumur. Like a broken man.

No time to answer though, the bell rung.

---

Celtic produced an animalistic growl as Ray approached her. "Princess! You came back! I knew you couldn't live life without me."

Did he always smell like Marbolo's and death? "I'm not here for you. I only came here for two reasons."

"The ladies and the dranks?"

The growls rose louder in volume, catching a few spectator's attention. Ray chuckled nervously, waving his hands to ward off the tempered teen. She halted her growling, becoming serenely quiet. Two fingers shot up from previously curled fist.

"One, I needed the money. Two, she is like a second home to me." Ray nodded in understanding. Celtic paused, her tilting to the left..towards the bar. The woman just came in, ordered a vodka, the expensive stuff Ray hauled in from a cousin of his. The woman's breathing patterns were labored, controlled. Too controlled for being in cage fight bar. Celtic glanced at Ray.

"Stay away from her. Something's... off," she murmured.[/color]

The Black Angel looked down into what was being called "The Pit", "Fitting...." she thought to herself. It seemed that the apparent outsider was fighting an rather burly man called "Render", the challenger was a Meta.... What his powers were she wasn't sure. And he'd be fighting a human in this.... Render. "Interesting, I suppose they don't let you use powers here.... Fair enough...", still the Black Angel wasn't about to root against her kind. So she quickly produced a few hundred dollar bills, saying "Hey.... Two hundred on the Meta...." to the nearest bookie, who took the cash, then wrote her a ticket betting on the Meta. The Black Angel took the ticket, then looked at the two, the human looked quite massive compared to the relatively tiny by comparison 135 lb meta. A bit of doubt about her bet began to come across the Black Angel, before she shook her head, saying "Ahhh fuck it.... Mine as well see what he can do...", besides a few hundred dollars was a drop in a bucket for her these days.

The human clearly knew how to play the crowd, incensing them, people threw bottles, articles of clothing, one of the whores next to her even threw her thong. "Ehhh don't even want to think of where that's been..." the Black Angel thought to herself, as she turned around to see the worse for wear looking, middle aged prostitute sitting behind her, who smelled of cheap perfume and sweet. Nasty.... He clearly was the more experienced of the two, the Black Angel only hoped this wasn't a root, that would be a bad start to the night.

The fight started, but that wasn't what the Black Angels attention was on right now.... She heard something.... Something animalistic, coming from one of the fighters, a girl who was talking to the announcer. The Black Angel watched her out of the corner of her eye, thinking "Hmmm.... Another Meta perhaps? I wonder what she's hiding under the surface? Perhaps their was a reason why I stumbled upon this place...". The Black Angel truly was starting to believe in fate, everything had a plan, and even her coming across this bar was likely no accident. The only question was if she was here to fight, recruit, or maybe a bit of both?

The Black Angel then returned her attention to the fight, yelling "Come on kid! Beat this asshole!!".

The crowd was in a great frenzy, just at the sight of one man entering the ring, 'Damn, these humans haven't even seen a fight and yet they're throwing their underwear across the building like dirty barbarians...' When he thought about it, these crowds did remind him a lot of barbarians, the dirty atmosphere, the raunchy attitudes, and especially the ale. Drake shook his head slightly, trying to clear his mind, "I cannot afford to be distracted right now." With deep, calming breaths, Drake assumed his fighting position, lowering himself slightly, so that he would be a smaller target for the much larger enemy, 'If I can keep low and use my speed to my advantage, I should be able to defeat this opponent with no problem.'

He waited for his moment to attack, calming his mind until the jeers and yells from the surrounding crowd were silenced, and the only things he could see was Render, with the crowd blurred behind him. He heard a sudden shout of, "Come on kid! Beat this asshole!!", and sped toward his opponent, swinging his fist out at the side of Render's kneecap, using most of his speed and force. 'If this man is as strong as I think he is, this will only stun him for a couple of seconds, then I can deliver maximum punishment.'

"Ah, you're pretty fast. It's almost too much for my eyes to properly follow.."

Render hadn't really bothered to settle into a fighting stance. No point. He knew what the first move would be. He had been scuffling and fighting in this bar for almost half of his life. He'd been so close to being rewarded the Skull Mask, but Cage had come along and won it. In just five hours for her, what took years for him. Envy, jealously.. Emotions that he vowed to never see again. Damn it. FOCUS. Kid heading for your knee cap- Wait, what?

The force of that fist sent visible tremors through his body, but the main was minute, lasting seconds. Precious, precious seconds. The shirtless man hit the ground, his fist sinking into the mud. Knocked on his knees by a kid. A kid...? Bloody hell! Why hadn't he thought of that before?!

---

"Come on kid! Beat this asshole!!"

Oh. Vodka had a voice. Goodie.

"Come onnn, why are you scowling?" Ray again. "Render took a pot shot. So what? He'll be fine. Kid shouldn't beat him too bad."

But Render wasn't the concern. The kid was. Drake, was it? Didn't matter. A worthy opponent, someone who would last longer than minutes. Celtic stood and moved closer to the Pit for a clearer. The crowd couldn't help but be intimidated by her presence; each and every one of parted to give her a pathway towards the Pit. The only time Cage had dared to leave her seat during a fight was.. never. Shock showed on the faces of the bookies, they knew that mask awfully well. The same Skull design was the emblem for Hell's Pit.

Whomever wore it was king.

A bookie, named Leo, approached her. "U-uh... Cage, ma'am?"

"Get to the point. You're distracting me."

"A-ah, yes ma'am! Ray wanted me to let you know that the woman you were, uh.. 'scowling' about, placed a bet in."

"On who?"

"The Meta, ma'am."

Shoulders going rigid, Celtic didn't bother subtlety as she glared over her shoulder at the woman. Something was off about her, and that outburst. All of this got the engine going. The growls were high-pitched and caused her body to visibly tremor. Not knowing something infuriated her.

The bell sounded, the meta went on the offensive, and punched him in the.... Kneecap? "Hmm.... Unorthodox...." the Black Angel thought to herself, but judging from the force the impact had on the shirtless man, no less effective. The Black Angel smiled, saying to herself "This kid might just have it....". This render was down, yet most certainly not out, not by a long shot. He appeared to be a man who'd fought all his life, and seemed capable of beating the boy if he could get a hold of him. The kid was small, he had to use that to his advantage, as their was no sense going blow for blow with a bigger opponent.

If the kid kept this up he'd make her some money, not that she was relying on it, but winning was winning, and the Black Angel loved to win. She kept close watch as the bigger man, this render began to compose himself to continue fighting. Here is where things would get really......", the Black Angels thoughts were distracted by a passing waitress where a skimpy two piece outfit, and high platform shoes. She carried a tray, which held a variety of liquors. "Hmmmm.... Well I'm here to unwind right?" she reasoned to herself.

The Black Angel called the waitress over, and as the very attractive, mid-twenties, blonde girl came over, she began to examine her tray. Unable to tell what the drinks were from sight, she simply asked "What do you recommend?". The pretty waitress then replied "Kamikaze's!", having to yell over the roar of the crowd. The Black Angel nodded, saying "I'll take two... One for me, one for you.". The Black Angel handed the waitress a twenty, took the shot glass, as the waitress took hers. They then clanged their glasses together, taking the shots. "Tastes like..... Candy....", she wasn't much of a mixed drink person, but she could get use to this. The waitress thanked her, as the Black Angel said "No problem.... Just keep the drinks coming.".

The Black Angel then turned her focus to that noise again... The growling sound, which seemed to be coming from that same girl, though she couldn't be sure with all the noise. She began to wonder exactly what had her so.... Her train of thought was immediately dashed, when a brazen old drunk stumbled over to her, and attempting to put the moves on her. She could sense him coming from behind her, and she'd felt his longing stare since she sat down. He wasn't worth beating into a pulp, so just before he reached her, the Black Angel turned around, saying "Lay one dirty finger on me, and you'll be eating out of a straw for the next year.... Now... Piss off..". The drunken man then mumbled "Bitch..." under his breath, as the Black Angel said "You have no idea...", as she turned her attention back to the fight.

Drake grinned to himself devilishly, his unexpected attack had worked perfectly. He quickly spun around and watched as his opponent tried to get up, 'He's not even trying to get into a stance, he's clearly distracted. I feel kind of bad but...he shouldn't have entered if he wasn't going to take it seriously.' Drake ran swiftly towards the man, keeping low to the ground again, and clenched his fist tightly, focusing him strength. He swung forward, using all his speed and power, aiming at the small of his back that would paralyze him for long enough to end this fight.

As Drake fought, he kept feeling as though everyone was watching him with interest, giving him a slight smirk. 'With all these people watching, I might as well give them a good show.' He moved his target off a bit, aiming at the back of Render's head. This might have been a cocky move, but Drake didn't want to end the fight too soon, he was having too much fun.

One hundred, two hundred, three hundred- The slosh of boots made its way towards him. Render blinked slowly, flexed his calf, then rolled off to the right. He was on his feet once more. Just as he thought; the kid was getting cocky. Perfect. The man curled his hands into his fists, carefully studying the boy once more. There definitely was a weight difference, he could use that against him if he actually got close enough, but that meta-strength would just kill him. Okay, a different approach.

The mask tilted upwards, searching along until- Cage was watching?! When did she move.. What was so interesting about the boy? Being a meta really wasn't that noticeable, if you asked him. Okay, yeah it was, but it wasn't mind-blowing.. He might need to rethink that.

Render focused on the boy again. 'He's a meta, so.. I need to use that against him. And I think I know how,' he thought. Crouching low to the ground, Render took on the position of track runner, balancing on the balls of his feet. He counted off in his head again.. One hundred, two hundred, three hundred..Four. He pushed off of his feet and sprinted full speed at his opponent.

---

Leo looked like he pissed his pants, so Celtic brought herself together again. "Render's going to lose this. Next fight with the kid, put.. Oh, yeah, I don't have money.. Snatch a grand from Ray and put it on the kid." The bookie scrawled onto a sheet, but as he moved to the portion where he wrote down the second fighter's name, Leo paused.

"Ma'am, only Render fights the meta's. If..Erm, I mean, when he loses, who's going to fight him?"

"I will," she muttered.

Leo decided to leave it at that and hurried off to find Ray's wallet. It was just her and her thoughts again. A man who had frequently attended her fights attempted to approach her, but she waved him off without hesitation. Right now she needed warm-up. Surely there was a piece of meat around here? Celtic walked back towards the bar, plopping onto a stool as far away from Vodka as she could possibly get. She waved a hand at the bartender.

He sauntered- because really, there wasn't a better way to describe his walk- over, sparing her the same cruel smile he delivered to all the others. Instead, she was given the gruff nod. A definite upgrade, if she did say so herself.

"Everything's on the house for you, Cage, so what'll it be?"

"You still got those energy granola bars?" He gave a gruff nod. "I'll have two."

The big man, Render was readying himself for another attack from the challenger, as he was totally on the defensive. Without a lucky shot, he was going to lose to the kid that looked about half his size. It was no real large feat, his was apparently a meta after all, but it was still more or less impressive. The boy showed skill, doing what was necessary to take down a larger opponent. "So once he beats Render who is he going to fight??", the Black Angel thought as she looked over at the bench where the remaining cage fighters sat. She noticed one of the bookie's make his way over to the tan skinned, brown haired girl, who seemed to be readying herself. It was going to be her, she was going to be the one to take on the challenger."Interesting....." the Black Angel thought to herself, as she watched as the girl moved from the bench, and made her way to the bar.

The fight that was ongoing seemed like its victor was going to be obvious, so as the bookie was finished talking to the girl, the Black Angel called him over. He looked like a bookie, the dirty slicked back hair, tacky suit, the smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne all but clogging the Black Angels nose as he approached. Once the bookie was standing in front of her, the Black Angel said "Well I don't think that boy is going to lose.... You can put all my money on the girl, since it looks like she's fighting next.". The bookie nodded, and began to write out another ticket, as this fight was all but a forgone conclusion.

As the bookie was writing out her ticket, the Black Angel could sense he was sizing her up... She'd caused a mini stir it seemed. She figured because she had an aspect of mystery about her, which made the locals want to figure out why exactly she was in their bar. "Good...." she thought to herself, all the more perfect for her entering the ring. As the bookie handed the Black Angel her new ticket, she said "Thank you.... Oh... And whoever wins this next fight.... I'll take them on." in a very casual manner.

The bookie nodded, then went on his way. The Black Angel then returned her focus to the fight at hand, while thinking to herself "And now things will get interesting....".

Even though he knew that his cockiness caused him to miss that shot that could potentially have ended the fight, he still grinned to himself like a child playing with his first toy. This human wasn't terrible, at the very least, he looked like he could take on just about any normal man in the world, but then again, Drake wasn't a normal man, not one bit. As he regained his balance, he got back into his stance, focusing himself again. He wanted to make this a good-looking fight, but he didn't want to lose because of his ego.

"You're a great fighter, I must commend you for that. Not many people can handle my speed as well as you did, but now I intend to finish this fight."

Drake waited for him moment again, still feeling that creeping look from the masked girl he had spoken with earlier. With his acute hearing, he noticed that she intended to fight him herself if he won this.

'Hmm, she looks like the best around here, but still...I feel...a higher level of skill and power somewhere...' He quickly looked up to the bar area, and for a moment, he caught sight of the source of the power. Turning his head back to the fight, he began to tense his muscles.

'Enough waiting.' He saw Render turn to a defensive position, and altered his fighting style, so that he would strike fast, and strike hard. As he ran forward, he kept himself paced, ready to jump out of the way at the first sign of danger. He curled his fist into tight balls, and as soon as he got close, darted to the left, swinging his fist at Render's ribs.

Things took a turn. A really, really bad turn. The kid was approaching him on his blind side. Render attempted to turn his torso, maybe to try and avoid the blow, but it was too tight. That fist, got him in the ribs and he felt the air leave his lungs. Pain worked its way in fiery veins across his side. Something was definitely broken. He'd had worse, but he couldn't breathe properly. And if he couldn't breathe, he wouldn't have his edge. His body rolled around for a moment, and at last, he stopped on his back.

Finished. By a meta. Damn.

The crowd erupted into cheers of glee. The meta won. Render lost. Some began to toss the contents of their glasses into the Pit. Splashes of the alcohol landed on Render and he breathlessly chuckled. It had been fun. It was always fun here. Ray stepped into the ring again, microphone in hand.

"Our winner tonight, is. The. Meta!!" The spectators laughed, cheered again before generally settling down. "Alright, there will be a five minute break for the winnings to be collected and hopefully our MetaFreak will want to take on his next opponent."

Ray exited the Pit, wiping away imaginary sweat on his forehead. Celtic swallowed her last piece of the granola and headed towards the Pit. She walked in, carrying a cane she picked up from the benches, and threw it at Render. The man raised a hand in greeting, struggling to get up. Celtic sighed in irritation, took one of his arms, and brought it over her shoulders.

Render smiled behind his mask, taking a sure grip of his cane. His yes wandered to the boy. "Nice job..for a meta. I didn't see that one coming. Cage, I'll meet you down at the shoppe?" She nodded once and Render staggered off of, leaning heavily on his cane.

Celtic chuckled as he left, which grew into full-out laugh. Then she stopped and eyed Drake. "Long time, no see."