Thoughts : the Savage and the Socialite

The crowd roared with unrestrained excitement as the fighter fell to his knees. His burly muscular body bruised and beaten, his eyes swollen shut.

the curtain is pulled back....

The crowd roared with unrestrained excitement as the fighter fell to his knees. His burly  muscular body bruised and beaten, his eye swollen shut, patches of his red hair missing, patches of damp blood exposed. As he lay on his knees, head down, the crashing sound of the crowd chanting, louder and louder they chanted his opponent’s name. His hands at his side, limp, unwilling to move as the chanting grew louder, the stomps grow closer together. In his dazed vision he mustered what little stamina remained to look upwards; Up out of the ditch that had served as their arena, searching the crazed faces of the spectators as they leaned over the edge, their shouting indistinguishable instructions as they waved their betting stubs. The chanted, the traumatizing chanting that made his knees buckle under its weight, that made his chest wheeze. As the shouting grew in volume, as the stomping grew in speed he watched a dark shadow loom over him. He found himself at the feet of a demon; A monster not forged from fire and sulfur but of flesh and bone.  The man stood a solid seven feet tall, his vanilla skin pitch black in the shadow of the nearby spotlight. As the demon towered over him, his massive hands clenched into the blood stained fist that had broken him, as he looked up to face him one last time, he saw the smears of his blood against his chiseled body, he saw his eyes, focused, channeled and dominating. Fear took him as he realized that this was not a fight, this was a massacre.

Hawk

Hawk

Hawk

Hawk!” they chanted as he closed his eyes and waited for the end. Hawk snatched his opponent by the neck and raised him up, holding him in his grasp as he hammered his other fist into him over and over. The wet slapping sound of flesh and bone giving way to momentum and savage power  was masked by the roar of the crowd. Still in his grasp hawk removed a black sleeveless leather jacket from the fighter’s dead body. Once it was removed he dropped the body to the ground, lifted his hands in the air as the crowd roared with ovation, chanting his name, Money and betting stubs raining down upon him.

 

                The crowd roared in blood-lust filled hysteria as an erratic and colorful man emerged from the crowd wearing a white top with the words announcer scribbled in red around the rim and brim, he once more raised Hawks hand into the air and shouted his name once and for all to know  him as  the undisputed winner. Hawks demonic smile endured as he slid on the sleeveless black jacket he had taken form his latest victim. spinning around and incurring the crowd one more for praise, as he elevated the crowd, as he rose his blood stained hands in the air the crowd that occupied the barn house shouted and cheered with such enthusiasm that the support beams and the hey stacked rafters began to shutter.

                As the crowd shouted in praise, as the lot of harmless and  downtrodden leapt and swore in excitement and anticipation of what would come next, a well-dressed man watched the fight and the cheering from behind the partition; a thin layered glass that surrounded an elevated booth, resting on the other side of the pit This Mobile private room  was where spectator seats were reserved for a more refined clientele, and though the booth rested a meager three feet from the ground, the dirtied and impoverished crowd that swarmed around it were miles away from the fantasy of entering.

                “I must admit; this Hawk fighter is truly savage.” a dapper dressed man commended his companion as he stood so close to the glass partition that he could see his faded reflection staring back at him. As his thumb slowly stroked the solid gold ring on his index finger a smug smile crept from the corners of his perfectly moisturized face. “Even at this distance I can smell them, so awful smelling. As if they had never heard of the idea of soap and bathing.” He chuckled darkly as he looked over his flawless pale skin in the casting reflection of the glass partition. His silver hair hung in a ponytail over his shoulder, the dark blue of his blazer and tie making his coal black eyes cast haunting intrigue that defied his condescension. “However I must admit; the way he forces his foes into submission before killing them, savoring every moment of the fight before ending it.” he admitted turning to face his companion who lounged in one of the six furnished leather seats that rested a safe distance from the glass.

                “I admit, there is an art form to what he does.” His companion concurred with a smile raising his glass of champagne, beckoning his companion to join him. With a smile the aristocrat made his way to his seat beside his companion, taking his glass of champagne and clanging it with sloppy excitement.

                “To the beauty of death!” he commended as he raised the glass to his lips, his eyes watching his companion as he took in his drink with thirst.

                “You always come up with the best toasts!” his companion commended as he reached for the chilled bottle in the metal bucket of ice for a refill.

                “I simply give voice to the desires within us all. Besides, four years in the most expensive schools in the thirteen colonies will undoubtedly season your perspective of beauty.” He admitted as the roars form the outside seemed to fade, the musician’s violin softly crept back into his attention. The soft smells of lavender and cigar smoke that reminded him of home filled his nostrils and turned his attention over to the other three spectators, two women by the miniature bar giggling in there lavish sundresses as they stole glances over to him and his companion.

                “Too true,” His companion commended as he adjusted his posture and placed his once more empty glass onto a nearby empty table. “… and as much as I would want nothing more than to continue to watch the next three matches with you; I have a pending engagement that cannot be ignored.” He apologized, his smile harmlessly playful as the aristocrat leaned in forward to continue the conversation.

                “I must admit given our circumstances I was hesitant to meet with you.” He continued his aristocratic tone directed upon his companion as he placed his finished glass of Champagne on the nearest table. “Given our employers current strife with mine, I would have thought an olive branch was the last thing your captain might offer.” He admitted with curiosity, His companion smiled softly.

                “I agree that my employer’s motives are often a mystery but I have come to trust his judgment.” he assured as he pulled out a small envelope, the miniature tan stationary fitting in the palm of his hand. “I was simply sent here to boarder an agreement.” He assured his face as harmless and relaxed. The aristocrat’s smile grew as the spark of excitement glaze over his curiosity. With unnoticed gesture he shook his associate’s hand, the envelope changing hands as their hands parted.

                “A man with money and status as myself can only remain in such stature if he can distinguish the difference between seeing a good deal and knowing when your being sold.” He exhaled as he leaned back in his seat and twirled the envelope in his fingers, his eyes direct and focused, contrary to his posture. “So Mr. Twinkle-Toes; is this proposal from your captain a good deal, or are you trying to sell me?” he asked wickedly as his eyes moved from the unsealed envelope to back to his companion.

                Twinkle-Toes was not one to crack under pressure, on the contrary in this state he thrived.  As he took another sip of his Champagne his eyes fixed on the man that sat across from him, his relaxed demeanor never wavering; his enemy was in checkmate, and he was totally oblivious to it.

                “The location of the Silver pirate’s flag ship; where does it make birth?’ he asked as he set the glass back onto he table, wiping a few dew droplets from his expensive waist coat and matching blazer. The aristocrat could not contain his amusement.

                “you must be joking?” he chuckled in surprise at his bluntness, his companion’s passive excitement was faded, a mild smile was all that remained as he prepared himself, as if to leave. “You want me to give you the location of the fastest air ship in the thirteen colonies? You want me to just give you the location of the silver pirate’s headquarters?”  His smile slightly faded as he searched Twinkle-Toe’s eyes for signs of jest, his anger rising when he found none. He sat up instantly his playful smile fading fast as he leaned back close to his companion. “Have you lost your mind? Do  You really think that  you have something that you can offer me that outweighs being hunted down and slaughtered by John Silver himself?!” he hissed, no longer confused, now only insulted. Toes could feel the heat rise as he sat quietly, with a word he could be discovered, with a hand gesture the guards that guarded the exit to the platform would turn there blades to him, and with no weapon to defend himself, this was not the time or the place to do anything rash. Toes remained calm, his smile fading as he folded his arm over his lap.

“Look in the envelope.” He advised, the aristocrat tuning his attention towards the envelope with hurried reluctance, all the more confused when he held the content of the envelope in his hand. An even smaller piece of blank tan paper, “write the quadrants on the paper.” Toes instructed as the aristocrat turned his head back to him to see a pen in Toes outstretched hand.

                “You’re serious?” His eyes squinted slightly seeing the lack of jest in Toes demeanor, though his innocent smile remained. The aristocrat smiled as he balled up the piece of paper and tossed it at Toes face. “I must admit I am a little disappointed in you Mr. Toes” he snapped. his smile a faraway memory.  “you told me you were here to barter a trade, a trade consists of two parties having an object the other desires, you come in here, liquor me up, then demand that I betray my captain, all the while you have nothing to barter with!” his voice rising form a quiet condescension to a personal insult. Toes simply rose to his full height, a stiffing eight feet tall, His slender body singular and erect as he buttoned up his blazer.

                “But I do have something to barter Cornelius.” He explained as he turned to face him, looking down upon him as if he was a child.

“And what is that? More stationary?!” Cornelius scoffed as he rose after him.

                “Your life,” Toes quietly whispered with a smile.

                At that moment the room slowed almost to a halt for Cornelius Thatch, his eyes instantly began to fog as his head was suddenly bombarded with millions of stinging pains as if all at once he was set upon by a rain of sharp needles. As his hands shook convulsively, as his mouth began to uncontrollably cough he looked upward to Twinkle-toes, then over to the bottle of Champagne that rested next to him. In  a frantic pant he lashed at him and was quickly seized and helped back to his seat. Twinkle-toes spoke words of concern to avert notice. “You…” he managed as he was leaned back into his seat, the pain taking him in waves as with each heart beat his body seemed to be set on fire, a paralyzing pain too sever to call out in agony.

“The trickle bee has a very distinct stinger, several inches larger than a normal bee’s. Even toxin extracted from the stinger can be used to form an odorless and tasteless poison.” Toes whispered as he leaned in close.

“The doctors will call it a stroke, an unfortunate death for the only air to the Thatch mining company. However if you were to tell me the location of the flag ship, I would be more then obliged to give you the antidote I brought with me.” he explained watching Cornelius condescending arrogance waver and reveal his true face, the face of spoiled sad child, papered well beyond the appropriate age. A scared little boy that surrounded himself around criminal’s in order to excite his otherwise dreary and meaningless life. “So tell me Cornelius, if this a good deal, or am I trying to sell you?” he smiled seconds before he could feel the aristocrat pull the his closer, his quickly swelling lips mouthingsoft words.

Reviews

[Hatter57]

Hi Yaseen.

This read a little rougher than the initial piece in this book. For example, I think your first sentence might read easier as "The crowd roared with unrestrained excitement", or something like that. There are several places where you can improve on word selection or recast a phrase better to communicate your thoughts to the reader with more clarity. I'm sure you'll handle all of that in the rewrites.

Aside from that, I think this is a good continuation of the story, although I think I may have missed an installment. I'll check out your page to try to fill in gaps in a bit. In the meantime, I just want to be sure I understand the setting you're presenting. In the first installment, the cursed quartermaster was definitely serving aboard a sailing ship. It was revealed that the Silver Pirates had it in for him, and I assumed they were standard seafarers. But from this it appears they are more likely crewing dirigibles? Or ships with some sort of magic that allows them to fly as well as sail? Nothing wrong with either scenario, and maybe I'm just getting ahead of the story here. Anyway, correct me if I've gotten completely off track.

A final note. I think Twinkle Toes needs to come up with a better plan for getting away with his information. One, I doubt his mark is in any condition to write down anything legibly if he's in that much pain; he'll probably be urged to whisper the information to Twinkle Toes. Once the information has been imparted, how is Twinkle Toes to get past the men at arms standing guard at the door since you've already established he has no weapons with him? He'll probably need to have the mark wish him good voyage or whatever is appropriate in the thirteen colonies and then toss him a pouch with the antidote as he exits. And then he'd better have a good escape plan ready for immediate execution because as soon as the antidote has been consumed, every fighter his mark can muster is going to be after him like fleas on a dog.

Of course, that's just off the top of my head. You can probably come up with something much netter with a little thought. I will check out the rest of what you've posted as soon as I have the time. Keep writing, and may the muse be with you.

[Yaseen J Malik]

oooh i see what the problem is! these are not continuations to the same story. thoughts are simply random, seperate stories not related in any way. i suppose i could weave them together, but they are not meant to be read as the same story
also the word unkempt means untidy which i chose specifically to express the mood and the state of the spectators. also there are a number of ways that twinkle toes could have escaped unharmed, however i purposely wanted the readers to imagine it for themselves. the idea you have works perfectly, the open ending was intentional. thanks for the feedback, ill rewrite it and post as soon as possible!