06-25-2017, 10:53 AM
A brooding young man sat alone in the bar. He had come in late in the competition, and it seemed that for the most part he appeared to linger round the bar, staring into one of the many screens. In fact, he seemed to domineer it to watch the progress of just one of the thirty competitors. A glass of whiskey in hand, he stares at the screen, watching a laughing swordsman mutilate himself against immense odds. It was sickening, and if he dared admit it, a bit frightening. This devil of a man had no fear of death. He was a Prime, after all, he would come back. He would just return, again and again... Nothing would stop him. Deon's lip curled as malice for the ronin bubbled like a foul brew.
The Secondary slips his free hand into his pocket to retrieve a half crumpled pack of cigarettes. On the way back, his hand brushed the six-shooter's leather holster, if only to remind himself that it was still there. "Sick fucking bastard," the man muttered before jamming a cancer stick betwixt his lips and lighting up. The match he used was flicked at the TV, snuffing out in mid air so that it left just the slightest black smudge on the screen.
Deon had not witnessed the first fight the swordsman had taken part in, but he did watch as Takezo mutilated Jak rather well, before Deadpool cut him up. That was mildly amusing, but not as much as this current fight. Deon actually cracked a smile when Gamzee nut-shotted the swordsman. He deserved it. That and more, he firmly believed. Perhaps it would come to him, but Deon hoped it would be he who taught this monster the meaning of suffering. Ban and Leo deserved vengeance, and it would be much sweeter coming from him than the king of faygo and a berzerker. Though he was thoroughly enjoying the show. He imagined Leo would have too. The thought brought the scowl back to his features.
The Secondary slips his free hand into his pocket to retrieve a half crumpled pack of cigarettes. On the way back, his hand brushed the six-shooter's leather holster, if only to remind himself that it was still there. "Sick fucking bastard," the man muttered before jamming a cancer stick betwixt his lips and lighting up. The match he used was flicked at the TV, snuffing out in mid air so that it left just the slightest black smudge on the screen.
Deon had not witnessed the first fight the swordsman had taken part in, but he did watch as Takezo mutilated Jak rather well, before Deadpool cut him up. That was mildly amusing, but not as much as this current fight. Deon actually cracked a smile when Gamzee nut-shotted the swordsman. He deserved it. That and more, he firmly believed. Perhaps it would come to him, but Deon hoped it would be he who taught this monster the meaning of suffering. Ban and Leo deserved vengeance, and it would be much sweeter coming from him than the king of faygo and a berzerker. Though he was thoroughly enjoying the show. He imagined Leo would have too. The thought brought the scowl back to his features.