Underground pt25

Characters SID, SYL & Artwork ©
Character GREEN LEGEND © to her player -ME-


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A rather tough blockage was occurring, folk congesting the entrance and even the emergency exits with the sound of leather in the ring and enticing sight of the two sharing the ring in unrelenting combat continued to keep the heart’s pounding. The crowd's boisterous banter seemed to mesh into one seemingly unruly rattle, neither fighter seeming the least bit swayed by the quick spikes in volume bearing down on their eardrums from all around. The three front rows were rumbling around like mosh-pits in following Syl, who was heavy handedly taking the advantage without mercy.

The pressure was bearing down on Green, forced to stomach the throbbing pain in her side, choking back in aggravation in attempt to salvage every last ounce of breath not already knocked from her lungs. There was little to no time to breath in for another fresh gulp of oxygen. Breathing through her nostrils was unlikely with how mucked up with blood they currently were, near to giving into the disgusting urge to snort that gunk back and swallow. Her eyes flared open wide in a tempest's mix of challenge and tension when faced with the wrathful look in Syl's eyes, making her feel this was the closest thing to feeling like being eyeballed by a lioness on the prowl, set to ravage its soon-to-be dinner. She could not afford to let her guard or wits waver, already biting down on some of her bruising pride when forfeiting so much ground to the redheaded tyrant, who was staking her claim on the ring hit by hit.

The momentum of the fight was being ushered along without a single hobble or trip, but Syl could not find that picture-perfect opening she was salivating for, really wanting to rip through Green's fur and flesh with one powerful swipe, claws ready to be unsheathed. Her prayers were answered as if miraculously from the sidelines (by an all too familiar face) when the lights sparkled off the shiny, crumpled surface of a now airborne beer can that quickly lost altitude, making one sound ’clack’ against the bunny's unprepared mug. “Ability is of little account without opportunity.” words of Napoleon Bonaparte, one of the best known conquers, echoed out like a whisper over the rioting crowd as they pushed in a bit tightly to the edges of the ring, all of them able to see Syl planting herself in with a battle cry, mightier than the alpha female on the tundra with arm cocking back. All eyes were mesmerized, wooed by the moment, knowing one beautiful and likely mortifying punch was destined to be heard around the entire arena.
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And here comes the wind up….
I know everyone was waiting for the next piece to come hitting in quick and hard. Sorry for the bit of procrastination on my part, alongside the typical random shuffle of work hours. But I hope you all are still just as eager to get to see this series continue, because even if things slow down, I do promise it will not stop until it is fully finished.

And just to show some ‘Green’ initiative here, always remember to throw away your cans. Don’t be like Sid and chuck your Carlsberg beer cans around with reckless abandon. And with that out of the way, a little fun piece of randomness regarding cans.

[link] [link] [link]
(sue me, I enjoy 7UP. lol)