Was the night Before Challenge..

[DoF Archive]

Date: 1/21/1998 9:54 PM Central Standard Time
From: Bob Braxxx

Robert stood in the basement of the Jasmine wailing on his heavy bag. His
jabs and kicks left heavy dents in the sand filled opponent as he grunted with exertion. The match was but a night away and he was busy putting the final touches on what would be one of his most important performances. The dank air hung heavy as his breathing grew more labored and he willed himself to punch harder and with as much agility as he could muster. He was not an agile man and he relied more on up close brawling then any particular type of
skill.

The bag careened from its chain as it staggered back to meet his fist. He had even gone so far as to draw a ridiculous dog's face on the bag and write in the words "Wolf Man", the none to affectionate nickname his friend Ian had the distinction to hold. He had probably spent more hours hitting this bag then he had in the year he and Ian had stood in the Duel of Fists. While Robert wanted the Diamond, Tisman's Opal was a worthwhile prize as
well--something to sate his hunger for competition until he could put together his own Diamond run.

His hands grew raw from hitting the bag as the sounds of upstairs activities
pulled at the edges of his thoughts. Robert's own sounds mixed with the primeval
ones floating gently downward as the basic desires of humanity made their own
bizarre music that ended in loud thumping crescendos as Robert moved into the bag,
A fast jab, a wheeling kick, and a shoulder tackle were timed with the loud thumping noises emitting from upstairs. During a particularly violent moment Robert let his gaze turn from the bag his eyes turned upward as if he could see through the floorboards. The lapse in attention cost him greatly as the bag came hurtling back into him, clubbing him full in the chest. Shocked, Robert staggered and returned to his booted feet. Such lapses in attention
would cost him and he would have to focus much harder or he would end up looking like a fool, something he simply would not allow.

A short time later he picked up his towel and wiped his hands clean not bothering to push aside the patina of sweat that lined his brow. He slumped onto a bench and let his head hang low as the sweat pooled on the dirt floor creating a small mud pit at his feet. Robert grunted as the word "pit" entered his mind. He had managed to avoid dueling in the pit thus far, but that damn Simon had cooked up something new. Robert swore. It was one thing to
fight against an opponent and ones own emotions, but to have to fight the very ring itself? Somehow those odds just didn't seem fair.

"Listen to me..." he muttered as he spit onto the ground and shook his head.
"Listen to me ask for fair." Robert didn't plan to fight fair, no that wouldn't
be a fight now would it? He would keep his word that he had written his name to
but he would make sure Ian knew what it was like to be in the ring with Robert
Braxxx. If Tis' hand should happen to hit the mat Robert would be sure a boot
heel would be there to crush it. If he made the mistake and turned his back, well, it would be safe to say he wouldn't make that same mistake again.

As Robert shrugged out his shoulders and let his muscles relax he began to
train himself for the other aspect of the fight. He prepared himself for the mental and emotional battle of wills that always took place. Simon had posted that this was going to be "Fun". Matt was a great kid but he could be damned naive at times. This wasn't fun; getting hit in the head and going home with broken bones and busted lips never was his idea of "fun". No, what was "Fun" was to be the one giving that beating. To be the one standing over
your opponent while smiling and saying "Good Duel" even as they lay broken at your feet. What was "Fun" was to raise your arm and declare victory. That was why people dueled. Not to share a tankard of ale...hell, you could do that in an Inn. Why risk physical pain? No, despite what Robert, the Duel of Fists Team Leader, said, the Robert who got in that ring wanted to win. And every time he stepped in that ring he damn well expected to.

There was only one person that ever held his lust for winning in the same fashion. A person who was all honor and good will but when the FITEBELL sounded was all business. As Robert smiled into the darkness he plotted his own victory and how he would find a way to bring that person back. He hadn't even won anything, hadn't even thrown a single punch but he was already getting ready for his first defense.

Rising to his feet Robert let his back crack as he said nice and loud "Gawd damn I'm cocky." A grin spread over his face. Looking through the darkness he could still see the ridiculous wolf image painted on the bag. Smirking, he tossed the towel in his hand at the bag and moved upstairs muttering "Come stop me, skirtboy."

[DoF Archive]

Date: 1/22/1998 11:01 PM Central Standard Time
From: TismanBRos

Ian stood in the empty Outback, the trials of the night before still weighing on his mind. Thoughts of his children and Kadi passed soon, and gave way to thoughts of another. The one that had been there for him as of late, Ashley. Ian smiled as he thought of her walking back to the deli with him after coming to his senses, never straying far from his side.
Ian thought to himself about how special Ashley had been to him, how she seemed to support everything that he had done. Even though he knew that one day she would have to be shown what he was, it seemed like a trivial matter. In a quick motion, Ian moved his hand to ShadoWeaver, perhaps for the last time. The bracer that his opal rested in was a simple one, leather casing holding the stone in place. His finger traced along the shiny surface
as he felt it vibrate softly, once again shifting into the shadows. Oh how he longed to place it in a necklace for Ashley, so that it's own beauty would be able to rest with her own.
With a heavy heart, Ian spoke in soft tones to the opal, it's sentience seeming to cry soft tears with his own. ShadoWeaver slid slowly from the casing and fell into Ian's palm, a sadness seeming to hold them both. Ian kissed the stone gently, and closed his grip as if to hug what had very much become part of him. Then, as if to try to avoid any good-byes, Ian placed ShadoWeaver on the ringpost nearest him before slinking down into the
corner.
"With everything in life that you desire, there always seems to be a wall between you and your goal," Ian spoke in hushed tones. "Mr. Braxxx, I'm yer wall. yer gonna have to tear me down to get to my friend."
With the soft words having been uttered, Ian closed his eyes and rested his head back against the ropes. His body ready, his mind started on the journey that needed to be taken as well before disassembling Robert from the head down.