2007-11-09: Satisfied Or Not


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Summary:At the HQ, Tyson runs the shop while Lachlan comes in out of interest.

Date It Happened: November 9th, 2007

Satisfied Or Not

Bronx, NYC - The Brawler's Headquarters

"All right, Franky," Tyson says leaning against the table near the entrance. "I know we've been over this, but you've got to make sure you're telling people to read the Code when they come in. I know you like having people come in, say this is like fight club, and get beat up, but it's turning people away when it comes as a surprise to them when they're on their backs…" But Tyson noticed Francis wasn't even looking at him with his good eye and he sighs. "Yeah, okay, you keep up the good work." He says moving away from the table and over towards the code posted on the wall and looked at the first rule and shook his head, "Maybe I should take that one down… the old manager was a bit of a loser…"

When Lachlan heard there was a brawler arena opening in New York, he had to come see for himself. Back when he still lived in Canada, he fought in a few of the little-known rings there for money. Still healing from stitches and bruises from his bad encounter some days ago, he's in no condition to fight now, but there's no harm in looking, right? He's peering up at the Code when Tyson approaches, and he happens to overhear the tidbit about old managers and the like. "Yer the guy tha' runs the place, then?" he grunts.

Hearing the voice first, having surprisingly overlooked the man all ready there, Tyson nods, "Yeah, one of them at least. The other one just seems to be on the lease because he's over eighteen or whatever the age is to run an establishment like this." He shrugs, thinking back on the his audition day when that decision had been made. "I don't know what it was, but here I am. Why? Are you looking to get in the ring?" As Tyson examines the man, he certainly looked like the type to brawl, but apparently you couldn't just assume these things…

Normally that would be an emphatic "why yes, I am!", but now Lachlan has things to hold him back. Those things are "Cass" and "Angry Cass". But he also really really really misses the ring and brawling, so it's a pretty rough conflict in his mind. He finally just comes back with, "Uh, mebbe. M'no' in any condition ta get inta it righ' now." Popping stitches and getting sweated on is kinda detrimental to the healing process.

Tyson nods slowly, "Well, any time you feel down to get scrappy come pay us a visit and we'll pay you." He began starting to walk away before turning back around with a curious expression, the man's accent triggering a question, "You like to drink though, right?"

Lachlan grins broadly at that. Does he like to drink. That's like asking if a kid likes candy. "Hell yeah, I do," the Scot states. Though maybe drinking in a public place is not so safe for him. It's not like he has the best impulse control (though vastly improved over the past several months). But hey, one little time isn't going to hurt.

Tyson nods, having guessed that fact. "Then you don't have to be limited to the rings. They've got a nice stock of alcohol here, but I don't really know… I'm only 17." He shrugs… "Not that I /haven't/ drank before, just that I'm trying not to do too many illegal things at once…"

"Seventeen?" Lachlan raises an eyebrow at that. "Bit young fer ownin' yer own place." But it would explain the need for the other guy on the lease to be legally able to own a business. "How'd ye come by it?"

"Oh, I used to fight in Detroit. Once I turned 16, at least, so it's only been a year, but that experience and money… ended up being well put to use here. I came in to audition as a fighter, they saw a talented fighter and after I kept trying to work around the HQ, they decided I might as well get paid for it. Timely as the last guy died or something, but still." He shrugs, "Mainly I just cover fights."

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