The Prologue [ Closed ]

by GlennSil Sun Mar 01, 2009 1:57 pm

Glenn checked his watch amidst the haze of sound and speculation around him. Seated in the third row, he gave a glance towards his hat sitting atop the chair next to him. He had been friends with his guest for the evening for quite some time now. From their origins at The Preston Academy for Young Men years ago, the two boys had grown into old men with their own stories and adventures. For now, the hat was a place holder in the case a would-be aristocrat saw it fit to take advantage of an empty chair.

The travel to this sandy region had been met with very little difficulty. His pillows had been fluffed, and the in flight movie wasn't half bad. Something about a man chasing a girl who's hair kept changing. Upon landing he had taken a cab to the Pelican Hotel and there got himself cleaned up for the evening boxing match.

He had always loved the sport. No teams. Just a one on one analysis of one fighter's ability vs. another. In a way, it was a lot like some of the sparring matches that he had been a part of - but so different at the same time. Here the men were barred from using any magic, or any weapons. Just a clean dance nearly as old as the human mating ritual itself until one of the fighters could go no further.

It would be a good fifteen minutes before the reigning champion and the favored challenger would come out. Glenn tilted his head towards the entrance they had come in for any sign of his friend Alesir. Nearly hidden by the bodies around him, the thin Arab slipped by a set of fur coats and found his third row of seating. Tossing the hat back into Glenn's lap and trying to wipe the Cheshire cat smile from his face, it seemed Alesir could hardly contain his excitement.

"Glenn." With an emphasis on the G, as his accent had never left him. "To-night Fred-e-rick is going to obliterate the challenger. Would you like to bet on it?" That smile still lingering in its unnatural fashion. Glenn, being unable to resist such an absolute statement took out a pair of keys. "Alright, how about my estate in Naples for that hotel off the harbor in Dubai?" Jingling those keys, Alesir took Glenn's hand in a firm shake "You have a deal my friend." And so the wager was set. A grand summer home versus a flourishing hotel. In some sense it was a little unfair, but Glenn knew Alesir had always admired the Naples residence.

But let us leave Glenn and his friend Alesir. All things considered, they have very small roles in this story.

Left hand floating around the right in a circular fashion, the challenger would come back down to his wrist to fasten his red wrist wraps. Checking the tightness by pressing his fingers over the Title label, he decided to redo the right one until he was completely satisfied. The locker room had been emptied and now the only two people that remained were himself and his manager. He had never really liked his Uncle Zip.

"I tell ya kid, you follow through with tonight's plan and we're going to be very wealthy men. Very wealthy men." Uncle Zip managed to say this while flossing and looking himself over in one of the floor to ceiling mirrors that lined one side of the locker room. He was still unsure if his nephew was going to come through with the bargain. "Fourth round, leave your right side open. He'll come in with the low hook, you reel, and take the shot at your cheek." Uncle Zip made a popping sound with his lips pressed then released suddenly. "Take a nap on the floor, and when you waaaaaake up." Pausing for dramatic effect. "We've made Bank."

"Sure thing Uncle Zip." Said the challenger for tonight's match, his voice not faltering but his eyes remaining low. It was times like these that he wished his late father was still with him. He would have known exactly what to do in this situation.

Coming Summer 2009