#mwevent03

“Yes, okay, we get it -- - Jesus fuckin’ Christ, one at a time.” As a general rule, Sloan was always some level of annoyed; her brows semi-constantly furrowed, her mouth pulled down at one corner, but she never seemed quite as agitated as she did during those first thirty minutes of Chess Club. 

The addition of a small fee had come with a fair amount of bitching, but Sloan managed to brush off the handful of people who felt brave enough to bring the injustice to her face. Inevitably, they’d be met with a ‘fuck off’ or ‘A man is dead, Jerry. Are you telling me you don’t have seven fucking dollars to donate?’  After the initial tide of dissension, she found her footing and seemed to visibly relax. It didn’t take long before it was just her and a couple other people hanging around the pickup, leaving Sloan to single out the nearest person to her left. 

She was there, nonetheless. Water in hand, leaning on one of the far walls, just in case. Alice felt a precense appear next to her, and didn't bother turning to see who it was. "Before you ask, I'm not exactly enjoying my time here. I'm paying my respects to Rockwell, and I'm just.. here if I'm needed." She gave a light shrug. A good enough excuse for the blonde.

Headphones in, Oliver Southby was beginning to forget about nearly dislocating his own shoulder to wriggle free of his partner’s grip. He was already well past not being able to find Sloan before the fight & a good deal further from his hand around Mac’s throat a half hour ago. Instead, the off-duty officer’s shoulder dipped & rose to the beat, lips puckered like an idiot as he danced, walking to the beat as he moved through the crowd. -- “You suck, Southby!” Well fuck that guy, because Southby couldn’t hear them over Abba’s most titular song. Occasionally someone grabbed him by the shoulder or ruffled his hair but he blissfully ignored them all as the first fight came to an end. 

He’d wanted a fight that would ring in his ears for days. This wouldn’t be it. He was fighting Wes after all & though he had no qualms against exchanging blows with a close friend, he didn’t expect to walk away with a concussion & that suited him just fine for the time being. 

Mouth guard hanging out of a corner of his mouth as he absently chewed on it, Southby stretched his shoulders, cracked his knuckles & looked for signs of unraveling on his taped hands. Not finding an end on either hand, the shift in sound was jarring as the song ended & another began. For a split second he could hear the indistinct yelling of the crowd. The fluorescent lights blared down at him as the edge of the crowd parted to make way for the man to get into the middle of the throng. “Ah shit,” Southby cursed. Having ripped the headphones from his ears, he was giving himself one last pat down when he realized he was still wearing his holster. “Here…” Southby struggled for a number of seconds to get the confounded thing off without removing his floral shirt. Awkwardly pulling his arms out of the leather he looked for a familiar face to hand the gun off too. It wasn’t like him to wear it all, but given the elevated threat of such an event, he’d worn it as a precaution just in case something did happen to go down between Rockwell’s old boys & Sloan’s regulars. Folding it all together, he pushed his personal effects off into trustworthy arms. “Okay,” Southby breathed, bouncing on his toes before stepping forward to touch knuckles with Wes. 

The circle of spectators widened around them & somewhere between being a goofball & a jackass, Southby’s blood began to boil, his breath got heavy & he went for Wes’ abdomen without thinking. Licked square in the jaw in retaliation, Southby let his baser instincts take over & pounded his fists into the bartender while the rest of the town just watched. Mind moving ten seconds slower than his limbs, Southby stepped back after catching a particularly gnarly fist to the forehead. First blood drawn on his end, Southby drew away blood from the bone over his eye to stop its trajectory of blinding him. Silent & painless, like a T.V. on mute, Southby moved forward again. You didn’t need to hear at chess club. It was more important to feel & to move. Slugging Wes again, hard. Southby tapped his cheek. “C’mmon baby.” He flashed his mouth guard at the other man in an ugly grin as he tapped his cheek to give him a target. The static in his ears after the hit drowned the background noise out even further. He could feel warmth leaking down around the shell of his right ear & knew he’d end it right there.

Rockwell Memorial Tournament

The action will take place within the walls of the storage facility, the doors left open to the cool night air so participants and onlookers can mingle freely. A small charge has been issued for entry to this tournament in the name of Soren Rockwell; profits from ticket sales will be used to pay any fees and maintain Soren’s gravesite. Although no formal memorial will be taking place, all patrons are encouraged to pour one out for the late Soren Rockwell and his garage. Anyone is free to enter the building, where they’ll be greeted by a ring that’s defined solely by a few painted, worn markers on the ground and the size of the circle of revelers around any two fighters.

If direct participation doesn’t appeal to you, there are other avenues of entertainment available: the host, Sloan Martin, will be taking bets before and during the tournament. Bets for each fight are closed before the first punch is thrown, but patrons are encouraged to bet on fights that have yet to take place at any time. Beer, cigarettes, snacks, and assorted paraphernalia will be sold throughout the night out of the back of a beat-up Chevrolet pickup. Anyone is welcome to watch the fights for a small fee. 

THE RULES ARE AS FOLLOWS: weapons are forbidden; only two to a fight; the match is over once someone goes limp or taps out. Everything else is fair game.

The Fights:

Lincoln Armitage versus Judah Fraser

Oliver Southby versus Wes Philips

Bailey Rose versus Jack Monroe

The Bonus Round:

The Host (Sloan Martin) versus Rapids County Police Department (Sabrina MacBride)

Event starts at 5:00PM EST