(no subject)
WHO: EVERYONE IN FIGHT CLUB. if you still want your character to join, look here for how to. it's all assumed. also, check here for how this log is gonna work. be sure to add your name to the tags if you participate!
WHERE: fight club. which is in some big basement of someplace.
WHEN: Tuesday night.
WARNINGS: VIOLENCE VIOLENCE EVERYWHERE
SUMMARY: therapy.
FORMAT: whatever you want.
It would be the first night fight club in this city. "Jack" had been anticipating the event all week, having recruited enough people to make it a good long introduction to the violent therapy they were all about to experience. They'd informed just a few people of the location. Of the time. Nothing else. It would be spread around. Not too much, it's supposed to be a secret. No shoes. No shirts. No superpowers. Only you and the dumbed-down weaponry nature gave you.
Tyler and him were already there, of course, standing in one of the few dingy fluorescents scattered across the ceiling. Dimly-lit, grime-floored basement. Perfect. Just like home.
Jack lifted a pale hand to rip the huge adhesive off his temple, exposing the lightly-scabbed wound beneath. A bandage only gets in the way. His injuries mimicked Tyler's exactly, though his demeanor did not. He stood slightly in the background and to the right of his roommate, arms crossed, a dead stare aimed at the door. They'd be coming in soon. Tyler was the one to explain it all.
WHERE: fight club. which is in some big basement of someplace.
WHEN: Tuesday night.
WARNINGS: VIOLENCE VIOLENCE EVERYWHERE
SUMMARY: therapy.
FORMAT: whatever you want.
It would be the first night fight club in this city. "Jack" had been anticipating the event all week, having recruited enough people to make it a good long introduction to the violent therapy they were all about to experience. They'd informed just a few people of the location. Of the time. Nothing else. It would be spread around. Not too much, it's supposed to be a secret. No shoes. No shirts. No superpowers. Only you and the dumbed-down weaponry nature gave you.
Tyler and him were already there, of course, standing in one of the few dingy fluorescents scattered across the ceiling. Dimly-lit, grime-floored basement. Perfect. Just like home.
Jack lifted a pale hand to rip the huge adhesive off his temple, exposing the lightly-scabbed wound beneath. A bandage only gets in the way. His injuries mimicked Tyler's exactly, though his demeanor did not. He stood slightly in the background and to the right of his roommate, arms crossed, a dead stare aimed at the door. They'd be coming in soon. Tyler was the one to explain it all.