better to
fight for something
than live for nothing

There was an exhilaration to fighting, the pounding of your heart, the taste of blood in your mouth, and the shouts of the spectators. Nicholas was no stranger to the fighting ring whether legal or street. It was a release for him, a way to escape from reality and his past and simply be allowed to live in that moment for that moment was all that mattered. In all honesty Nicholas hadn't left his motel room that night looking for a fight. He had pulled on his old leather jacket and set about simply to scrounge about the warehouse district pubs for some cheap food and booze.

He had been about to enter a pub when a sound hit his ears. He knew well the sounds of a scuffle. It was harder to ignore that sound than the clench of his stomach for food. There was barely a moments hesitation before the man made his decision and rounded the corner towards the fight. It was only about a dozen men gathered in the patchy lit area between the warehouse and the pub with two of the men in the middle of a contact fight. Intrigued, Nicholas wandered for a closer look until he was amongst the circle of spectators. A thread of sense of home settled over him as he watched the pair grapple and swing punches. A few men on the sidelines were busy exchanging money which alerted Nicholas that this was no mere disagreement but a good ole fashioned betting fight.

Quietly Nicholas waited for the match to end with the raised hand of the defeated signaling his forfeit. The winnings and losses of the fight were dolled out before it was time for another round. "Anyone else?" What Nicholas could only assume was the assigned 'ring master' stepped forward and called out looking for another participant. Nicholas glanced about before stepping forward, "I'll fight." The ringmaster eyed Nicholas with suspicion, "Alright, we got new blood tonight. You'll fight my boy Roy here." He motioned for a man on the sidelines who stepped up. "Get ready boys. Only rule here, newbie, is no biting; you'd be amazed at how many have tried to do that before I had to make the rule. Oh, and no dying, I don't want to be cleaning that up." The ringmaster stepped aside as Nicholas rolled his eyes slightly, shrugging off his leather jacket and tossing it aside onto some empty crates.

His opponent was a relatively large man and by Nicholas' slightly raised sense of smell he was a dockworker. They all permanently smelled like sea salt and fish. When the ringmaster called go, Nicholas ducked and spun about behind Roy as the large man swung forward, landing a solid punch to his side in the process. His opponent flinched at the contact and whipped around to face him once more, glaring at the placid-faced Nicholas. It was a clear difference in style in the way Roy stood with his hands held up clenched tight with feet planted wide whereas Nicholas' hands were only slightly curled and his legs only slightly bent and spread. This fight was going to be far too easy. Perhaps it could be called unfair, a Were fighting a human as they had greater strength. However, that strength was no where near that of a vampire...and he really needed that money.

Nicholas nearly felt bad though with the dockworkers bull-like fighting style. He didn't want to anger the ringmaster and be accused of anything either that would effect getting his winnings. So he let the burly man land a few punches. Nicholas knew how to take hits and didn't mind the pain anymore as it was a way to feel alive. Nicholas dipped down and grabbed the man's leg and twisted about, rolling forward and bringing Roy flipping backwards in the process to land with a heavy thud one the asphalt that he could hear the air leaving the fallen man's lungs. Shouts of the men around them by Roy admitting defeat was the end of the match and the beginning of the money trade. "That was quite the show!" The ringmaster slapped Nicholas on the back as he shoved Nicholas' winnings into his hand. "Yeah, sure." Nicholas shrugged with a raised brow as he curled his fingers about the bills. "You guys do this often?" "Every Saturday night." The man nodded. "Ok, I'll see you next week then." "You're not going to fight again?" Nicholas raised up his hand with the bills in silent answer. He got what he came for. Slowly he went back to the crates to gather his jacket as he watched the men begin to figure out who was going to fight next.

Nicholas Thorne