10549/So this is what you do for fun

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So this is what you do for fun
Date of Scene: 23 March 2022
Location: Gotham Underground Fighting Ring
Synopsis: Dinah is done messed up.
Cast of Characters: Dinah Lance, Arthur Curry




Dinah Lance has posed:
The location was never the same. It shifted constantly as was necessary for a business which violated the law on so many levels. Whatever building they were using, the setup did mostly remain the same. A larger central area that was the 'ring'. The term was used loosely because it wasn't like a boxing or wrestling ring. It was generally drawn in the ground or marked off with tape, depending on what floor was in the building. Sometimes wood, sometimes concrete. They didn't bother placing mats as this wasn't that sort of fighting.

While it was for sport, there was little off-limits. Outside actual killing. That was frowned upon. Not prohibited but those who crossed the line found themselves not invited back. Since those who did take part as contestants enjoyed it, they tried to play within that rule. Invitations came from a burner phone that would be dumped immediately after, a text sent to the regulars.

The only other rule was these grounds were neutral. There were no villains. There were no heroes. Both would come and partake, test their skills. Some were powered but they were pitted against other powered unless they could turn off those benefits. Someone like Dinah? She usually fought in the unpowered area since she wouldn't use her powers during the fights.

She did fight here at times. It was her way of letting off steam. She'd had to help a friend once who was doing the very same thing, but in her mind his reasons had been wrong. He'd been doing it for the fame in the circle. To catch his bygone youth. For her it was just a personal challenge. If she lost, so be it. It was a learning experience and next time she wouldn't do the same thing. But she did often win, despite her age.

She was in the crowd as herself. One of herselves. Blonde wig in place, a domino mask on her face to help hide her identity. She wasn't in her Black Canary costume as that would be a bit too obvious. Today she was in jeans, ankle boots in black, a black t-shirt. Nothing fancy and nothing that stood out. Others in the crowd may be masked, may not. It was always their choice.

Tonight the fights were in an abandoned warehouse, all the windows blacked out to keep prying eyes from seeing the goings-on. There were seats set up around the outside of the ring, though the front rows were close enough that combatants sometimes ended up in the crowd. At least briefly.

The seat Dinah and her companion had taken were a bit further toward the back. A good view but far enough back to avoid having someone land in their laps. And a bit of space from others so conversations would be easier.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    With arms folded over his broad chest and his eyes focused on the tableau before them, Arthur Curry did not seem like a happy man. There might be some that would recognize him if he was in a place more prominent than in that shadowed back area with the view of the 'ring', some who might care that this particular hero was observing. Though if one did see him from afar they would at least get one signal, one sentiment from the grim man in the sunglasses and the black hoodie...
    It's that he's not pleased.
    That body language shows he's closed off. With the way he watches the fight going on, but more also the way he's taking in the culture around it. Wildness. People thirsting for blood and getting it. It wasn't something he's dealt with before beyond...
    Well a Roman adventure some time ago, and a boxing match in Vegas. But beyond that?
    Nothing quite like this. He takes a deep breath then looks sidelong at the woman with the blond hair and the domino mask. An eyebrow is quirked, no question given though likely several thought of silently. None offered voice. He instead exhales and looks back. Then takes a drink from his beer.
    How can she tell he's displeased? He doesn't drink that beer. He sips it. So definitely not in a good mood.
    "This is messed up, Blackbird."

Dinah Lance has posed:
"Is it?"

Two simple words but so much in the question. Dinah was watching the match but not the same way he was. She wasn't leaning forward in her seat or cheering it on but she was evaluating the fighters. Picking up their moves, their preferred attacks and defense. Making personal notes for the day she might face off with them in the ring.

"Everything here is consensual. No forced fighting." Which he knows, from her previous experience, would've been crossing the line for her. "There is a money paid to those that are in the bigger matches. The lower level ones are working their way up to the monetary levels." She takes a sip of her beer. She was only going to enjoy one though, in case she chose to join in the fights later.

"Sure, it is more brutal but the fighters know what they are getting into. It allows some to get out aggression they might take out in other ways." She paused as she evaluated that. Then quickly continuing. "For some it is just the personal challenge. And those that watch are not harming anyone in doing so. The fighters would likely fight even if there wasn't a crowd. They even have a powered healer in the back for if things get too much out of hand or if people need to not have bruised faces the next day."

She looked over at her companion in his black hoodie. Catching her bottom lip between her teeth then looking at the fight again. "Take Freddy for example. He was the guy in the red trunks last bout. He has kids and this helps support them. During the day, he's an insurance salesman. He uses this to supplement his income. A couple of fights a week and he makes more than he might in a part time job."

Arthur Curry has posed:
    Arthur comes from another world than Dinah, literally and figuratively. Yet it is his point of view that splits him from her here. He's trained to fight, to save his people, to do battle with those that oppose his will and the League's efforts. But this... he perhaps doesn't have the same appreciation that she does for the artistry in the brutality. And, to be fair, some of those fighting are no better than thugs.
    "I know, and that's good." The fact it's consensual, "And you know me, I'm all for freedom of choice for... whatever. If these people all know what they're getting into then... aren't being leaned on or manipulated then yeah."
    He takes a deep breath then looks at her sidelong, especially during the tale of Freddy the Insurance Salesman.
    "I know what yer saying, Dinah. It's more... you rarely find these things clean. You know? Someone is always grafting, but if you've done your homework..."
    Of course that's the moment when one of the two fighters /slams/ his opponent onto the ground, and then follows through with a heavy punch to the temple, knocking the man out...
    It's enough to make him wince.
    He makes a face, "I know yer good. I know you prolly clean up and aren't in much danger. Still. Maybe it's a problem with me. But... still troubles me."

Dinah Lance has posed:
"Of course there are going to be some trying to work an angle. A lot of those who attend are betting, which is kind of a given. There are some who might try to do some dirty business but the people behind the fights are very serious about keeping this clean." She makes a little bit of a face. "Well, as clean as illegal bloodsports can be."

She has no illusions. It is bloodsport. But it is bloodsport where people know what they are getting into and accepting that danger. She reaches over a hand to touch Arthur's forearm lightly. "I know you worry. And yes, I have been beaten. It's rare but it has happened. I don't go into the powered fights at all. I prefer it to be skill on skill. Yes, I do often get into the paid tiers. And I will give the money usually to the person I beat. If they won't accept, it goes to charity." A little shrug. "I know that probably doesn't make it better for you."

She looked back to the ongoing fight and then dismissed it again. That match was done. The next pairing would be coming to the ring soon. "This is my..." She was at a loss for the word. Grappling for a way to explain it. "Therapy? Not sure that's right. It helps me process what happened. That it is in my control. My choices. Not being a pawn for someone else. Throwing in that it sates that part of me that misses it. Misses the fighting and the violence. I know it's dark. I know it's really pretty messed up and I probably should be seeking therapy instead but for now, this works for me. I'm sorry it makes you uncomfortable."

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Nah, it's just..." Arthur lifts a thumb and rubs it over his cheek, then extends his jaw and scrapes the pad along the line of his chin. It's an absent gesture, clearly pensive, and a thing of him trying to gather himself and his thoughts even as the crowd roars and the payouts are happening.
    Then he covers her hand with his and gives a small squeeze, "Think I'll have to get used to it. It's just... feels self-destructive in some ways. Though I suppose drinking is self-destructive too. Or any number of things taken to excess." The tall man slouches a little more in his chair, heavy work boots crossing at his ankles as he looks across the way. At a glance anybody can likely feel the pure /fuck off/ vibes he's putting out and so people do steer clear of their table. Even their waitress.
    Which might explain why they've only gotten the one bottle of beer so far.
    "You talked to anyone professional about this? Might be a good idea... but I know. I know. We're all out there people with out there lives. Not conventional."

Dinah Lance has posed:
"It's tricky. Who do I trust with that? I mean, I don't want everyone knowing the two sides of me. And being in a therapy situation, I'd be having to keep part of myself apart from it. Is that going to work then?"

Giving a psychiatrist half the truth probably wouldn't help them get to the bottom of troubles. "Are there doctors for the powered crowd?" She didn't know of any herself. Not to say they didn't exist. But there was the fear of asking others for recommendations due to the stigma often attached to such. And if they knew why she was wanting it? The stigma would grow to downright worry.

"If you can come up with a good one for people like us, I'm willing to at least talk to them. But until then, if this keeps me from going too far when I'm in the field, I'm going to continue it. And hope you will just support me. You don't ever have to come again, of course. I didn't want you to feel like I was hiding it from you. Though now I wonder if I should've just left it at telling you instead of showing."

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Yeah, I know, it's tough." The tall man tightens his arms over his chest and chews on the inside corner of his lip, frowning to himself. "And I'm being a hypocrite here since if I had somethin' like this I..."
    But then he shakes his head as that comes close to crossing his own bridges, and that's just not done.
    "Mmm," He eventually settles on as the proper continuation for that sentence, then he looks over at her. "No, this was good. Is good. Good to have this insight. Just..." He looks back to the arena area as the medics are seeing to the fallen fighter, while now the bookies are calling for the bets from the rest of the crowd. The ambient sound gets louder, but more close to the ringside seats, less so around them.
    "I know if I had something similar I wouldn't go to some counselor. I'd most likely say fuck it and handle it. Until I had to change. If it came to it." A small shake of his head is given, then he takes a deep breath.
    "I'm not going to ask you to stop, but tell me when it's going on." Then his brow furrows, "You talked to the Bat about this?" A beat then he lifts his chin, "I mean, I'm sure he likely knows about the practice."

Dinah Lance has posed:
"I'm sure he knows." It's an immediate answer. After all, this is Batman they are talking about. He probably knows if she stole a piece of gum from the corner store when she was six years old. The man is truly frightening. "But he's never raided it so I'm guessing he has bigger things to deal with." For now. She isn't sure that will remain. But as illegal activities go, this one is not a threat to innocents on the streets.

"I'll be sure to let you know when I'm going to be fighting. It is usually on Friday nights. Not every time. It moves around a bit depending on what locations they have available to use."

She turns her hand over underneath his, grasping his hand in hers gently. "I do have a spot available for me to fight tonight. I plan to do so." She looked to those unusual eyes of his. This isn't her asking permission. It is her letting him have that opportunity to stay or leave. "I'll need to go start getting ready. Do you want to meet up after?"

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Hey," Arthur says, "I've never run away from anything before..."
    The man says with a small smile. But then his eyes lift upwards almost rolling as he then admits, "Well. Except when Namor and I were going to throw down but the guard showed up..."
    So he made a strategic... retreat.
    "But you know what I mean," A look to the sides, and then he takes a deep breath, "I'll be here. I'll watch. I promise not to interfere unless it's clear there's some monkey business going on." He grimaces, "Like if Grodd shows up or something. Or worse." Monkey Business.
    Then he shakes his head and squeezes her hand again, "Go on, get set. I'll stay."

Dinah Lance has posed:
She finishes off her beer quickly and rises to her feet. She bent to give him a little kiss on the cheek. "Any ape activity, I will be looking for you," she says with a grin before turning to head for the passage she knew allowed access to the fighter area.