Sit down.

“ … A Pokémon fight, ミスター. ”

“I mean maybe, been to a lot of places in search of money for beating the shit outta someone.” Pit is often times slang for ‘Underground Ring’ so he’d just take it as such. Just kinda looking to Sett, before his eyes dart around the room from side to side. Taking a sip of his drink. “Why you asking…? I make you lose money, like all the other people who come in here asking about me? Cause I mean, ain’t my fault people suck at gambling.” Granted, a lot of the people who came in yelling about ‘Grey this’ ‘Grey that’ were ‘scrawny fucks’ with hired muscle. 

       ❝ No, no -- you’ve got the wrong idea. ❞ He nods to Amara with a flick of ears and head, motioning her to go ahead and upstairs, where this place’s boss lived and thrived. The assassin has two curved blades on her back, always with her, mute in her affair.

       She nods, and goes without him, going up the stairs to seal a deal.

      ❝ So let me get this straight, you feast on strong emotions, right? ❞

      By far one of the most eccentric, yet strange creatures he’d ever seen. Comical that he’d almost stomped it flat seeing it pass on his VIP stand; mistaking it for some stray roach -- the first one he’d seen in months. He’d made sure to have to those eradicated from his establishment.

      Not for his sake, but humans found it fitting to throw a fit over a small insect but not over broken noses, arms and violence.

     ❝ Okay, listen. ❞

     Amara had said she’d clear the area of onlookers, yet here they were, dealing with the presence of a passing witness who had seen the ordeal of what had been a nasty deal.

     She’d drawn her blades, and his golden knuckles had been the source of many concussions on thugs left and right.

     ❝ Hope this guy wasn’t your friend. ❞

      He’s talking about a poor meathead he’s just gotten his fists acquainted with; the poor individual is bruised and unconscious, beaten to an inch of his life, but they would live ... with broken bones.

      ❝ You heard right, puppy -- born and raised in GALAR by the GALAR wolves themselves; the blade of GALAR was checking me for fleas when I was seven. ❞

       They walk the VIP halls of his pits; creatures of all kind, fae and non fae, roam the area with drinks and laughter and bets in their wallets. 

       Extremely privileged individuals, friends of THE BOSS, only the most special of audiences were welcome here.

        And a friend of Vic was a friend of his.

     ❝ You. ❞

     The BEAST BOY BASTARD’s voice beckons to the most outstanding individual at this bar; source of business for him, but his eyes are allured by a familiar sight.

     He has some time to waste.

    (Not really, he was late to a date with another pit boss, but that beating could wait.)

“how’s this?” He’d go ahead and flex a little knowing a few people who are watching.

pinches the nippples