Owner	Pose
Scandal Savage	There are both advantages and drawbacks to being the daughter of Vandal Savage. One aspect that can be either or both is the propensity for violence. It's frequently saved her life, but the Savage-inherited rage does sometimes need an outlet. And since she is attempting to go straight (after a fashion), Scandal has taken herself off to another city and into a somewhat organised environment in order to give her impulses to beat seven shades of the proverbial out of uncouth strangers. Since she looks mundane, bleeds and bruises when hit, and doesn't punch people clear out of the ring, most of even the more experienced combatants and observers at the underground fight club have consistently underestimated her. But she's fast, slippery, astonishingly resilient, and hits much harder than it looks as if she ought to be able to. And she has decades of experience as the protege of a genocidal immortal. Consequently, even after winning her past few fights, and taking a few hard hits, she's been very much enjoying herself.
Sebastian Greene	As for her current opponent, a tall man with broad shoulders and a powerfully defined muscular physique, he comes to this place for similar reasons. It is a place where he is unknown. All he is to the people screaming from the audience and the men hollaring back and forth with their betting slips... is an unknown race horse in this primal contest. A piece of meat that they think has a greater chance to beat another piece of meat. It is a place where he can face another and let himself indulge in the darker tendencies for a being such as him.     When they saw this particular match up many betters put their money on the tall man that towered over the smaller woman. They screamed from the stands, calling out horrible epithets towards her. And then when they moved out into the ring and touched their open-fingered gloves to each other, his eyes find hers and there is a curious calm to him... as if he felt utterly in control of the moment. What is more each of her former opponents smirked at her, scowled at her, insulted her. But from him he gives her nothing save a simple nod.     And then there was the bell and they were both moving out onto the mat, his hands held up before him and his attention on her as she moves about the ring. He has the reach on her assuredly, but she has certain edges being the daughter of such a being...
Scandal Savage	Scandal's fighting with the lower half of her face covered in a black bandana - though it's been dislodged more than once in the course of her contests. Long black leggings and a sleeveless cropped top constitute the rest of what she's paired with her gloves. For her own part, her style is... unconventional. Even to a connoisseur of such things, it seems impossible to place: a mish-mash of options and stances, often seeming as if she might be experimenting - treating her opponents as opportunities to test approaches, even at the expense of taking a few blows in the process. This one, however, she at least initially seems to treat with cautious respect, dancing around in a side-stepping circle, studying how he moves, her own hands dropped invitingly low... but not low enough to truly count as off-guard.
Sebastian Greene	The man against her is wearing grey sweatpants and sneakers, his bare chest is dark and with a fuzz of fur, scars criss-crossing his powerfully defined chest like a latticework of memorialized agony. She could see places where the man has assuredly been shot, stabbed, perhaps even set afire. Yet for it all he seems to move cleanly, precisely.     When she comes at him he's facing her head on, fists raised defensively like a boxer as he hunkers down behind it. It's the first few moments where they each test each other, gauge each other with short sharp jabs that are fired back and forth. Even as she circles he makes her stay clean in her stance lest one of those jabs might slip past and jounce off her chin.     She continues to move and he uses his superior reach to make her think her movements out before hand, then as she nears the wire-link fence of the cage, he'll step in and try a short sidekick low towards her shins to herd her towards the corner.
Scandal Savage	The woman fights in silence, at least in comparison to many of the other fighters. Her breathing almost always remains controlled, her thoughts unspoken - or perhaps hidden behind that bandana. Still, there's a tightening of her brows as the big guy counters, a bit more concentration evidently required for the next few moments. Her response to the sidekick is to jump over it, then drop low and scythe a sweep across towards his own ankles as he's likely to be regaining his own footing. The momentum from that, she uses to roll out and away from the corner, bouncing upright once more.
Sebastian Greene	It's a blur of movement, the twist, the turn. One person in the crowd shouts a loud BOO! as the two fighters come together for a moment only for each of them to evade the others strikes. She's rising up and backing off, but he takes that moment to step in and try to press the advantage. A flurry of blows are fired, two on each side then a low strike towards her abdomen as he moves in.     It's a strong combination of strikes, but she can easily accept the first few, blocking them and shunting them aside. But it's the last one that may well have her attention as he turns his hips and tries that power through of the cross. There's a power behind it, intensity. But if she's able to slip to the side and evade she'll have a clear shot at his back for a moment.
Scandal Savage	For a few moments, Scandal puts real effort into her blocks - not merely trying to stop her opponent's strikes, but delivering crunching, aggressively bruising contacts in the process. For the first time, he gets to experience the improbable strength in her frame: she might look like a fitness model, but seems to have the solidity of a heavyweight. Still, she grunts now, that frown reappearing before she spins and twists... but rather than dancing away, she steps in close, hands moving to grasp her foe's shoulders to pull him back into the knee she directs towards his kidney.
Sebastian Greene	She'll feel the impact of her knee lancing up into his side, the jolt snapping back along the strength of her thigh as he curves around the force of that impact. It forces him to wince sharply in pain from the incredible strength she's able to put behind it. It's enough that he reels to the side, turning quickly to try and slam a backfist towards her jaw if only to try and buy himself some time, to get some distance so he can round back and bring his guard back into line.     Meanwhile the crowd roars in anger, booing and some throwing their drinks at the cage, pieces of ice scattering across the mats and spattering stale beer over them even as the two gladiators prepare to come together again.
Scandal Savage	Scandal had expected the backfist, dropping into a crouch to duck beneath it, before powering up out of that posture to hammer a pair of uppercuts towards his damaged flank, trying to use her speed to catch - and further hurt - him before he can spin away. The more rational parts of the war-god's mind might perhaps note that there are hints this being a slightly unfamiliar mode of combat for her: it's almost as if she's either holding back (yet still hitting *hard*), or as if she's accustomed to having greater reach on her blows. The strikes themselves are gracefully clean and pure in their lines, but it might be the case that she'd "normally" expect to have something extending her reach straight out from her fists. But at least in this outfit, he can be sure his opponent definitely isn't Wolverine.
Sebastian Greene	When she comes in for those side body blows he tucks up and turns, trying to accept them on his guard and reeling back against the chain link fence. She's able to knock him back into that metal as it complains and jounces, but then it lends him some momentum as he darts forwards with a quick straight to knock her out of that rhythm she'd been building. It lets him twist to the side to avoid her counter, then come back around with a right cross.     But should she lash out again he's turning just in time to try and grasp her extended wrist and pull her across his hip, turning to try and bring her down /hard/ upon the mat in a classically executed judo throw. Something she has assuredly seen before, but perhaps not executed in quite such precision.
Scandal Savage	Scandal's durable and quite freakishly strong... but no heavier than she looks. Consequently, she's easier to bat around than Mr Aaron might have expected after her aggressive blocking a few moments earlier - and flies really well, when thrown. Still, her break-fall is impecable, the woman seemingly unhindered by any fear of breaking her wrist if she gets it wrong. And almost immediately, she's twisting up and over the pivot of her shoulders, intending to either plant feet against his torso or wrap her legs around him, to introduce chaos to the order created by his throw.
Sebastian Greene	It's enough to break the smooth precision of the throw and to set the balance between them to chaos. They both end up hitting the mats heavily, their forms crashing down with the fence only a few feet behind them. It's a struggle then as they are both on their sides, their powerfully athletic forms each straining and striving against the other as they seek leverage, a better grip. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he tries to fend off the grasps of that strong young woman, his elbow pushing her away even as his other hand seeks to grasp at her shoulder. One of his legs plants along the inside of her thigh as he tries to spin her around while holding onto her arm, seeking to shift the movement into an arm bar.     But she's able to counter, to hunker down against it and twist, to hold him off as she maintains the grip of her legs around him. It's a moment of utter tension between them, the feeling of flesh against flesh, fingertips and arms exerting pressure. Their breath mingles hot within the hollow between their bodies, small beadlets of sweat spattering against them as the temperature surges with the struggle.     For a moment she might hear a low growl come from him as he tries to seize the initiative, but she might be able to turn that on him.
Scandal Savage	Accustomed as she is to taking on bigger and heavier opponents, Scandal's quite willing to treat such things as an opportunity - abruptly relaxing her own resistance for a moment, to let John give her a little extra momentum that she can put to her own use in trying to turn the ground-contest in her favour. Let him part-turn her as she pivots, giving him an instant of pushing into empty air while fighting against a grip she's already released, so that she can once again demonstrate her acrobatic talents. She's quite willing to let him grab hold of her arm, for that keeps his own hand out of the way as she kicks him in the face, then plants a foot under his chin to press on his throat. Now she *is* holding back a bit, lest she do irreparable harm to someone she thinks might still be an exceptional mundane... though she at least half expects him to confirm that he's inhuman in one fashion or another, and shrug off her effort to choke him out.
Ares	From her place next to him him, having seized the dominant position, Scandal is able to bring her foot to the side of his neck, the knife's edge of her foot digging into the carotid artery and beginning to cut off the flow of blood to his brain. It takes focus, and effort as she twists her arm around his and /pulls/ on it to bring him further into the pressure of that choke. She can feel him twisting under her grip, the pounding of his pulse felt through her leg as she tightens down.     He slams a fist upon the mats, and then tries to shift along the ground to force the release of that pressure, but she's able to shimmy along the mat as well, but if she's going to try and force him out she'll have to lock down the hold, for he does not seem likely to tap right now.
Scandal Savage	Hrmmm. Well, that at least seems to confirm that she's not in imminent danger of killing him... probably. So Scandal does indeed develop her advantage: her free hand is planted on the ground, to provide her with a pivot to use to better lock John's arm in place - something then reinforced by renewed pressure from her other leg. If he's strong and masochistic enough to rip his arm out of its socket in order to relieve the pressure on his throat, she seems to be willing to let him do so - but otherwise, she appears intent on forcing him to either lose, or reveal whether he really is a metahuman of some sort.
Ares	For a moment there's a surge from him, just a bare moment that she'll feel his arm tense and draw back powerfully, fouling her grip slightly as he shakes his head, a low rumbling growl coming from him. But then he lifts his head and she's able to renew the choke, lock it down...     And it's enough time, the handful of seconds pass, and then the ring manager hits the bell as it becomes apparent that the other fighter is not fighting back. The electronic display above flashes through and displays her as the winner with another ring of bells, followed by the roar of an angry crowd.     And suddenly she's being held aloft, being paraded up in the air as the winner of the tournament. It leaves her to look out across that seedy mass of humanity. She can see a mass of people glaring at her but even more cheering for her.     And down on the mat, lifting himself up to one knee, is John. He rolls his shoulder and winces slightly, but then makes his way through the crowd and away.
Scandal Savage	Scandal needs little in the way of acting to seem either pleased with herself or broodingly dangerous - the combination of which probably suits the role of victor in a seedy underground ring. After giving the crowd the obligatory opportunity to cheer and boo, she also departs the ring... rubbing at her own shoulder as she carefully rolls it while eyeing one wrist, her body's regenerative processes neither instantaneous nor comfortable. Still, the frown creasing her brow is rather pensive. The suspicion that the fight was thrown does not sit well with her, smacking as it does of manipulation and of her possibly being considered a pawn in someone else's plans.
Ares	It is but an hour later at the end of the night, there in the basement of the Godsend bar. The bartenders are busy putting away refuse and cleaning up the chairs and tables. Only a handful of people remain in that now so terribly seedy and dingy looking place. There is still the heavy smell of spilled beer, cigarettes, and the sweat of so many athletes testing each other.     Across the way, in a series of alcoves near the medical area are where the losers tend to recover. Some are still there, though most who can have made their way home. One man is dozing on a cot with his broken nose taped up. Another man is counting out his winnings at a table. But John Aaron is there as well, seated in one of those alcoves away from prying eyes. He has one of the few remaining bottles of bourbon left on his table, a glass is there in his hand and he at times takes a drink.     Oh she left her mark on him for the evening, that much is for sure. A small butterfly bandage covers that cut on his brow, and he has a pack of ice on his shoulder where she threatened to twist and tear. A nasty bruise seems almost lurid in the dim lighting upon the side of his neck. But all of that... that's forgotten for now. For he is at his ease, drinking, and letting his thoughts wander.
Scandal Savage	For her own part, Scandal has fully healed up - the discomfort of over-taxed muscles and ligaments re-knitting now overcome. She washed up as best she could (even if a hand-basin was all that was on offer), her hair now drying out of having been casually slicked straight back while it was wet. Training shoes and a hooded top have been added, while her bandana is now tied around her neck, but the leggings are still in place as an obvious confirmation of her identity as she pads into the loser's corner, bearing a bottle of Jack Daniels (as the nearest approximation of good whiskey she could find) in one hand.
Ares	His eyes don't find hers at first, not quite yet. She'll have a moment to gauge the man from afar as he looks on. There is something about him assuredly, something almost... regal in the way he watches the proceedings of the few people around him. It's as if he were holding court and these were but peasants wending away their time.     Then, to punctuate that moment, he takes a long pull of his drink. The glass comes down empty upon the tabletop with a resonant clink. He reaches for the bottle and turns it on its side, letting the caramel liquor gurgle into his glass.     It's then that he sees her as he pours. His brown eyes meeting hers and then he offers her a small nod of recognition and greeting.
Scandal Savage	Scandal's own nod is wary, gaze and thoughts still assessing. Then she moves closer, advancing to stand across the table from him. "An unusual fight," she observes quietly. Her accent is polished yet non-descript, perhaps that of a well-educated foreigner rather than a native speaker.
Ares	John sits up a little straighter in his chair and then he looks towards another seat nearby. He gestures to it with one hand uncurling, then says in a deep baritone voice that sounds almost like a growl, "Please, have a seat." And should she accept it or not he'll answer her in that same closely controlled way.     "You are a very strong fighter, it was a pleasure to match against you." With that said he lifts his glass in a salute to her, then takes a long drink from it. The glass clinks again as it's set down.
Scandal Savage	Scandal does hesitate, letting herself see what might follow the invitation to sit... but thereafter she lets her lips twist into a brief, wry smile, and raises her bottle before flipping the chair around and settling astride it. "Thank you. Though I have the impression that you could have done rather more to avoid losing, had you truly wanted to."
Ares	"It was a well fought fight, and if we had been at each other's throats in the field of battle... who knows what would have happened?" He offers that forth as an explanation even as he reaches for his bottle and refills his drink. Those calm brown eyes return to hers once he sets the bottle aside, his hand curled around the base of it. His eyes hood somewhat but then she'll see the first ghost of a smile to him as he says simply, "You wanted the victory more, however. You should exult in it."     He shakes his head and straightens in his seat then tells her, "Though... you do play rough."
Scandal Savage	"My father would probably be proud to hear you say that," Scandal says dryly. "Or perhaps outraged at combat being viewed as play. But yes, I wanted the victory. I dislike losing, and prefer not to do so when I can avoid it. But I admit that I have been troubled with wondering *why* you gave up when you did. I would not wish to find myself part of someone else's games, and I was concerned that I had blundered into manipulation of betting, or the like."
Ares	"Hm," John pushes a rough and calloused hand over the stubble on his head, his eyes distancing past her for a moment as his gaze slips just past her shoulder. He frowns marginally and shakes his head, returning his eyes to hers as he tells her with a directness that she might find surprising. "Two reasons. The first one... if I had affected the reverse that I needed to... it might have hurt you badly, possibly crippled you. Some dollars, a victory in a place like this? It's not worth the risk of injuring such an exceptional fighter as you."     He takes a deep breath and frowns, but then he adds quietly. "The second reason is that I come here not to win fully. I seek to face opponents who will not hold back, who will give entirely of themselves and in turn allow me to engage them in battle. If I win here, or too many other places, I will no longer simply be the big dumb guy from out of town. I'll have a name, and no anonymity, and eventually... never be able to fight here or anywhere else near me again."
Scandal Savage	Scandal lifts her brows, head cocking slightly. "Mmmm. So, you want some challenging sparring, but nothing that will risk revealing the true extent of your talents? Have you told this to anyone else? Or am I uniquely honoured?"
Ares	The tall man in the chair opposite her scratches at the stubble upon his chin and he watches her calmly. "A few of my friends know. My son." He holds up the glass of bourbon and peers across the rim at her, but for some reason he does not drink. Instead he sets it back down and shifts his weight to the other side of the chair, pulling off the heavy ice pack and setting it upon the table between them.     "It is difficult to explain, perhaps you will understand, perhaps not." He spreads his hands as if dismissing his own words but presses on. "I am at ties harried by dark thoughts... my temper can be difficult. At times it has reared its head and I have hurt those near me. If I do this... then it is not as bad."
Scandal Savage	Scandal is toying with her own bottle, rather than drinking from it at present. She lifts one brow, then chuckles softly. "I think that I know something of that, yes," she says softly. "Does your son know your reason for fighting? Or have you tried to hide your temper from him?"
Ares	A breath is taken and she'll see his brow furrow. He looks to the side, watching the bartender turning stools over onto tables and taking a rag to the surface of them. He makes a small grunt of acknowledgement to her question, but then looks back to her and answers, "I believe he knows, we have not talked of it. But he is old enough, and he knows I have a temper but I have never turned it on him. But I have had to protect him in the past... and he has seen it."
Scandal Savage	The woman nods slowly, gaze focused intently upon her former opponent. "Mmmmm. And do you want him to follow in your footsteps? Or has he already chosen another path?", she asks quietly.
Ares	A small smile touches his lips as he looks to her, but then he murmurs, "He'll have the freedom to choose his path. If he sets foot on mine... well I may be proud, but I think in many ways I would prefer him embark on something... safer." But then his brow knits together again as he looks on her and he asks, "Forgive me, but why do you care?"
Scandal Savage	"My own father is not a believer in offering such choices." The woman sounds dryly - if somewhat bleakly - amused. "I am glad to hear that you are not attempting to compel your own child to follow in your footsteps."
Ares	The man's lips part in a small silent 'ah' as he shifts his weight to the other side of the chair again, causing it to complain with a faint creak of wood. "You seem a strong enough individual who would not need their parent to define their identity." He crosses a leg over his knee and looks thoughtful as he considers her, his eyes narrowing. "I am surprised to hear that you are affected so by his wishes."
Scandal Savage	"There are ways of ensuring that one's child is involved in conflict," Scandal responds, tone again dry. "I would personally advise against them, but my father has always been a firm believer in finding his own path... which frequently involves finding others' for them, too. Now, I try to have as little to do with him as possible, but blood and early conditioning do exert their influences. Hence, my presence here."
Ares	A grunt comes from him, then he takes up his glass as he pushes himself to his feet roughly. He winces again as he rubs at that shoulder that had been twisted during their match. But he shakes his head and then tilts back the drink, setting the empty glass down precisely in the center of the table. "Then I commend you on your freedom from him. I can perhaps see how he may have shaped you, but you are ever free to remake yourself as you can."     He gives her a nod then, "If you for whatever reason wish to contact me, my name is John Aaron. I am sure an individual of your talents will be able to find me."     That having been said he begins to walk away, a little gingerly, but still.
Scandal Savage	Scandal lifts her brows once again... and though she opts not to give him her name just yet, she does at least offer him a respectful inclination of her head. And then carefully, thoughtfully, watches him depart.