The Butler Is Out

[sully]

Open to anyone looking for a fight!!

Butler sat on the stool closest to the entrance of the back area, sipping on a scotch on the rocks and smoking a thick cigar. His eyes followed the ass of the scantily clad bartender as he sauntered back and forth filling out orders. Their eyes met occasionally and the bartender shot him a cheeky smile and then turned back to his duties. Butler chuckled to himself and turned his attention to the rest of the bar.

It wasn’t overly crowded, from what he could see in the dim lighting. The other waitstaff walked between booths and tables, shouting over the music to various patrons. Butler flicked his forked tongue out and tasted the air. The sweet taste of sweat and sexual desire wafted all around him and he drank it up in huge gulps. He fought best when he was riled up and like always, he wanted to win. Shooting the last of the whiskey down his throat, he raised his hand to get the bartender’s attention. The young man smiled and slowly walked over. His skin was a dark olive like Butler’s, but his body was lithe and short, with long black hair tied back in a ponytail. He was dressed in black lace panties, combat boots, and a black dog collar. His dark green eyes were glued to Butler’s hazel pair.

“What do you want snake boy?” The bartender asked, leaning forward on the bar, deftly avoiding the various pools of spilled liquor. Butler slipped his finger underneath the collar and pulled him closer, speaking directly into the bartender’s ear so his forked tongue flicked against his skin, “You know what I want Ludo…”. Ludo reached up and grabbed Butler’s outstretched wrist, replying “Tip me well enough and we’ll see.” He gingerly pried Butler’s hand off the collar and moved back, but not before lightly kissing him on the cheek. With a final wink, Ludo poured him another drink and then walked off to return to his duties, leaving Butler alone. He smiled to himself and took a sip of the whiskey as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re on, Butler.” The hand’s owner stated, revealing himself to be one of the club’s back area staff. Butler grunted in acknowledgement and rose from his stool, downing his drink in one gulp. He slowly took off his suit jacket, folded it in half and handed it to Ludo. Ludo shot him a confident smile and walked into the backroom to hang up his jacket. Butler rolled up the sleeves of his white button down and followed the staff member. They walked through the entrance to the back area, Butler being prompted to pay the fee which he handed over with no fuss.

The back area was as full as the front with a few handfuls of people milling around and placing bets. A few looked towards Butler and let out a yell of encouragement which he accepted with a nod. He knew a few people made money off his fights and he didn’t want to let them down. Butler looked up at the VIP section, its eternal darkness a constant question. One day he'd like to be accepted up there, just to see how it would feel to look down on people who couldn't see you. The staff member left Butler near the edge of the ring, telling him to wait there until he was called. Butler leaned against the ring and chomped down on his cigar, gazing at the room around him, trying to guess his next opponent.

[pentagrandma]

The surrounding hum of collected voices, hazarding guesses and placing bets, lulled Jesse into a state of narcosis; like a comfort blanket that he’d wrapped himself up in, real tight. He sat slumped in the front row of the arena, dead-eyed and zoned-out, forearms draped over spread knees. A lit cigarette dangled from his lips, untended and collecting a pillar of ash. He wore a plain white tee with a tiny hole near the neckline, a pair of gray sweats, and heavy boots.

With a measured blink, he came out of his trance - coaxed back up to the surface of his mind by the supportive cheers for his would-be opponent. The Butler. Jesse’s focus fell upon the demon, with his fancy clothes and fancier attitude, and stretched a slow-forming smile that caused the ash to finally drop from his smoke.

Jesse’d seen Butler in the ring before. He was twice his size and thrice his strength, but it didn’t matter none. He’d been waiting for this, fully aware that he was likely to get a lickin’. Weren’t never such a thing as a fair fight, though, and our Jess would’ve rather been bested than labeled a yaller dog. There was fun to be had in being outmatched, anyhow, and he was confident he could hold his own for a while.

Yep. He was fixin’ to have a real good time.

He stood, sucking one final drag from his cigarette before plucking it from his lips, and flicking it toward some unsuspecting spectators. “What the fuck?!” protested his victim, to which Jesse rebutted by way of baring his teeth in both a grin and snarl in equal measures. They were swift to back down and, with a fire now lit in his gaze, Jesse began to stalk along the outer edge of the raised ring like a cagey lion - or, likelier in his case, wolf.

It was as though some mental switch had flipped; a converting of indolence into aggression. With guttural howls and rebel cries, he pumped himself up for the imminent fight - inciting cheering responses from his own set of regulars. He humored those encouraging shouts, playing the role of alpha male with fists beaten against his chest; providing those betting in his favor with a false sense of hope.

Fuck ‘em. He wasn’t in it for the money.

[sully]

Butler's attention was drawn to the howls emanating from across the ring. He turned his eyes towards his opponent, assessing him up and down. "Hmp the werewolf pup..." Butler muttered underneath his breath. Despite not enjoying the supernatural strength of most of the fighters, Jesse was known as a tenacious fighter who occasionally won one-sided matches through sheer determination. While slightly disappointed at the more likely chance at victory, Butler still enjoyed the idea of seeing Jesse's tenacity first hand. Butler cracked his knuckles and smiled at the young man. Might be uncouth, but he wondered if he could ask Jesse if he'd let him fight his werewolf form sometime. He had always wanted to see if he was stronger than a wolf...

Butler was snapped quickly back to reality as the announcer stepped into the ring and shouted towards the assembled masses "Ladies and Gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to our two combatants... In this corner... we have Butlerrrrrrr" Cheers from behind Butler rang across the room. "And in this corner... Jesseeeee" Cheers from behind Jesse also rung out, an equal showing of support on both sides. Butler tossed his cigar to the ground and grinded it into the ground with his black wing tip shoes. He lifted himself into the ring and got into his corner, waiting for Jesse to do the same.

[pentagrandma]

Jesse vaulted himself up onto the dais with all of the enthusiasm of a starved predator - or an addict finally afforded the means for a much-needed fix. He stripped himself of his white tee, tossing it just outside of the ring, to flaunt his thews and the scarred souvenirs of past skirmishes. The tip of his tongue skated along the line of his lower lip as he stared down The Butler, grinning all-too-widely.

“Go ‘head’n’ say the blessin’,” drawled Jess with genuine bravado; fully intent on jerkin’ a knot in this snake’s tail, even if he couldn’t whup him outright. He waited for the announcer to step out of the ring, and for the caging runes to activate, before taking on a defensive stance. Best not charge bull-headed at a man that could snap him like a twig. He was going to have to dodge like hell.

[sully]

Butler cracked his knuckles loudly as the combat ruins began to glow, filling the room with eerie arcane lights. As soon as the bell was rung, Butler walked forward, slowly but with a deliberate pace, towards his opponent. His heart was beating loudly, filling his ears with the rushing sound of blood. Outside the ring Butler prided himself on keeping tactful and respectful, regardless of who he was dealing with. But it was a whole difference story in the ring. While he had no intention of killing the pup, it would bring him immense pleasure to feel his bones snap beneath his powerful fists.

Once he got a few feet away from Jesse, Butler pulled his right arm back and wound it up for straight shot across the face. The punch would be easy for Jesse to dodge, Butler's comical size slowing him down greatly. But he would also feel the sheer power of the punch from the intense gusts of wind coming off his hand as it moved through the air. Butler raised his leg and prepared to kick Jesse against the magical wall of the ring.

[pentagrandma]

Jesse hadn’t any supernatural speed, but he was still quick for a human - and Butler was slow as molasses. Soon as the demon’s arm pulled back, our Jess knew what would come next. He ducked beneath the oncoming fist, feeling the force of it by way of blasted air. Adrenaline surged in its wake, filling our lad clear to the brim with heady stimulation; already, he was on cloud nine. The taunts and cheers of the crowd drowned in that powerful rush, replaced instead with a steady, grounding hum.

Grinning like mad, he sprung out of his predicament - stood as he was between fence and foe - and directed a heavy-booted kick of his own toward Butler’s supporting knee. With only one leg under him, Jesse expected Butler would be easier to knock down.

[sully]

Butler was able to see the reciprocated kick coming, but his body was unable to react in time. He winced slightly as the sole of Jesse's foot connected with his left knee and causing that leg to fall out beneath him. However, he was quick enough to re-position his raised leg back onto the ground, keeping him from falling flat on his face. Butler let out a deep, vibrating chuckle as he rose back to his feet, locking eyes with Jesse. He'd been right before; this pup was a scrappy fighter who wouldn't go down easily. So it was only fair that Butler didn't go easy on him either.

Faster than before, but still slow enough to dodge, Butler threw a right hook at Jesse's face. While Jesse was distracted with the hook, he brought his left hand in a tight fist barreling towards the pup's stomach. He wanted to take the wind out of the pup's sails... and his lungs.

[pentagrandma]

Butler’s feint proved mighty effective. Our Jess dodged that slow hook to his face, paying next to no mind to the second fist that hightailed its way toward his gut. By the time he’d picked up on it, there wasn’t time to sidestep. Instead, he caught the blow in his left hand to slow its impact, gritting his teeth as he felt the collective crunch of all of his fingers snapping in unison.

Even still, as their united fists connected with his stomach, he smiled like a goat in a briar patch. He braced his legs and tightened his abdomen against the force, breath escaping him in a rush. Before all of that air could leave him, however, he slung his right fist at Butler’s throat with as all the power he could round up.