15461/Tuesday Night Fight

Tuesday Night Fight
Date of Scene:	25 July 2023
Location:	Bronx - Underground Fight Club
Synopsis:	Brunnhilde and Frigga go to visit an underground fight club and watch June trade punches.
Cast of Characters:	June Connor, Brunnhilde, Frigga

---

June Connor has posed:
    The basement of The Ratchet, a Bronx Bar, has a secret. It's an underground fighting ring a few times a month. This Tuesday happens to be one of them. It's not impossible to find out about it, really. It's one of the worst kept secrets in the Bronx. But as far as criminal activity, it's rather low on the police radar. Terrance Cox, the guy who runs it, keeps the drugs out, and the booze flowing. The space is large enough to accomodate about 40people, and so it has 60 in it right now. Don't tell the fire marshall.

    The basement is old, brick base walls and an uneven slab defines it with the crowd of sweaty competitors and betters, all contributing to a dull roar of commotion.

Brunnhilde has posed:
"So, this place is the real deal.." Brunnhilde is telling Frigga while making way towards the club known as the Ratchet. "... since you wanted to check what people did for fun in the Bronx.."

"Mildly disappointing drinks yet they seem to follow the traditions of old of fights allowed inside the establishment." Which was a big plus for Brunnhilde. Specially when she got too drunk. Though she had been cutting on that as of late. Give it to some good influences coming her way by Sif and Thor and Frigga.

She is dressed rather casual tonight. Pair of jeans, black boots. Good ol' turtleneck sweater and the leather jacket to finish off the biker outlook. Of course that there's no escaping the blonde-platinum hair of intricate braids done in the viking style which creates quite the mesh of styles for the former Valkyrie.

One hand pushes the door open and she lets Frigga go in first. As is proper.

Frigga has posed:
Frigga did ask about the 'now' Midgard; the good, the bad, and yes, the ugly. She is forever learning, and knowing and understanding a Realm of which two of her sons seem to be absolutely enamored with is a priority with her. She knows the Midgard of centuries (Millennia) ago, but now?

Having recieved guidance and counsel as to what to wear in such an establishment, the Queen of Asgard may not be immediately recognized. The regal middle-aged woman is dressed a great deal like her companion, only with stated pieces that doesn't tag her as 'desperately trying to be young again'. She wears jeans, but her shirt is a little more defined, more in line with her age and status. Blonde hair is set back in an intricate braid that looks very.. not American.

"I did," Frigga admits. "I mean, I do. There is so much interest in this Realm, and I am not naive enough to believe that it is all very cheery." Even Asgard has its more unsavory places. After all, there is a reason why Frigga travels with bodyguards.

"I am familiar with such.. establishment techniques," her tones hold a touch of quiet amusement. "It should be an interesting night, regardless of the quality of the beverages."

June Connor has posed:
    There might be another factor that separates the Asgardians as they descend the sturdy yet old wooden steps. There aren't a lot of women in here, though that might be expected. A few to be sure, most of them on the arm of someone. Not all of them, though. One particular red head looks like she's there for more than a beer, wraps on her hands, a black and white sports bra, and a pair of loose fitting black cargo pants. She is having a beer, despite her readiness for a fight, cheering at the one that's currently going on. A large black man and another latin one who are both with shirts off, and trading punches as the crowd roars at them for more. They seem fairly evenly matched.

    "Ladies," a bald man with a trimmed white goatee greets Frigga and Brunnahilde. "Bets are at the table to the right, drinks are back here with my bartender. Welcome to Tuesday Night."

Brunnhilde has posed:
If one wanted to see the ugly of Midgard then Brunnhilde was the one to seek. She had ample experience with the dregs of society after her self-imposed exile on Earth, being rather intimate in these kind of places. And worse. Yes, there are worse places. "No, it is not cheery at all." she admits with a small frown.

Eyes sweep over the place, sharp, taking in the gathered. Assessing threats. Making sure none will be a surprise for the Asgardians. Satisfied enough after a moment she walks in alongside Frigga, perhaps taller than most men in the place which maybe a head-turned to many.

"Greetings, business man." She nodding her head slowly at the bald man. Bets? She produces a 100 dollar bill. "This on the darker one. He has a better posture and the other is hiding an injury on his shoulder." she sagely nods. "This should be an easy win." give it to Brunnhilde that millenia of experience studying warriors and their potential. She might just be right on who will be the winner here.

"I gained this money on a beach volleyball bet." She tells Frigga with a faint grin, "Sif was quite the bait." she shares.

Frigga has posed:
The pair of them probably do stick out like a sore thumb. They are neither on the arm of some gentleman, nor do they appear to be 'with' someone currently in the ring. They certainly don't look like a pair that are 'looking for a good time'. Tall, elegant, and seemingly unflappable, Frigga inclines her head at the greeting from the bald man, the seeming proprietor or at least the manager of the establishment. "Thank you for your kind welcome," is the Queen's response as the pair pass.

Eyes of clear, crystal blue take in the room, and those that are within. Her brows crease here and there in response to that which she sees before her attention is taken by her valkyrie, and lifted towards the ring. A deliberate nod of agreement is given to the choice, and she adds in a sotto voice, "The other is distracted. His mind is not as calm as the other. Perhaps later, a coin might be given him to soothe some of his ills." Where she'd gotten some coin of the realm, however, gains a laugh, and a theatrically disapproving glance. "Unfair. Amusing, but hardly fair." She adds in something of an even softer voice, "Would that I had seen it." After all, Sif is virtually her daughter..

June Connor has posed:
    Terrance takes the bill. "On Retters, got it." He goes to the book. "Name?" he calls out over the noise. Just then there's a good connect in the fight, and the crowd roars louder. June is bumped out of her ideal watching spot, and being much smaller, can't clearly see the rest of the fight. She argues with the crowd who is indifferent, and she shakes her head, taking another drink from the bottle. She wanders around the edge, looking for another spot to get a good view, when she spots the tall Asgardian women. She arches her brow in surprise, given how rare it is for ladies to come here unaccompanied, especially ones that would be considered rather attractive. "Youse sure you wanna be here?" she asks Frigga as Terrance tries to talk to Brunnhilde. "Don't let'm touch yer ass or they won't quit til you pop'm," she yells her words of wisdom to the unfamiliar woman over the noise.

Brunnhilde has posed:
"Your son was there as well." Hilde reveals back to Frigga, "He is still quite affected by all that went on against the Svartalfar." not that it comes as a surprise to Frigga most likely. The Valkyrie folds her arms together, "It merits some worry, specially if indeed Jane may be forever lost." the call for a name gets her to look over to Terrance, "Put it on Hilde."

Just then the connecting strike and she grins. "It won't take long now." almost as if she was a prophet.

Hilde is turning to face Frigga again but then there's June there talking about touching asses. She laughs heartily. "Trust me, they will only make that mistake once." her powerful voice carrying across.

"I think the better question is .., are -you- sure you want to be here?" studying blue gaze going over June's form.

Frigga has posed:
There is that brief but definitely present cloud of concern when Thor's name is stated, moreso because of the fall-out of their victory; the losses were great. In Asgard, there is unabashed and unapologetic celebrations, but life is absolutely getting back to normal. After all, Asgard is nothing if not a warrior-driven Realm, even for all their arts and sciences and wisdoms. The added loss of Jane does prick her heart; the loss of a cared for soul that has not found their way to Valhalla is to be mourned, and worried for, but again, moreso for the manner in which Thor is suffering for it. "Yes." It's a simple word, but filled with meaning.

June's approach is noted, and Frigga takes a half of a step back in order to give the smaller one some room. Her head cants slightly, giving her full attention, those eyes turning kindly towards the young woman. "They won't be able to do so." Why, she doesn't say. It is with some certainty, however, that the words are spoken.

When Brunnhilde asks her question of the girl, Frigga waits for the response, her own expression questioning and interested.

June Connor has posed:
    Brunnhilde's not wrong, June doesn't look big enough to compete. She would be lighter than most of the featherweights, though she has good muscle tone, those who think size doesn't matter in a fight have never been in a real fight. Her reach is going to be inferior, her strength is likely inferior, leaving her speed and maybe flexibility as the only edges she might have. Questionable at best.

    June grins with that unmistakable air of arrogance. "You can bet against me," she challenges. "Just makes my winnings better."

    Terrance smirks and shakes his head as he hears June's comment, but as a neutral party, doesn't comment.

    The roar grows louder, and then reaches its peak as the latin man goes down. Looks like Brunnhilde gets her mone.

Brunnhilde has posed:
While Brunnhilde usually respects a fighter that battles for the right reasons she can see that June is there for all the -wrong- ones. And that has the Valkyrie frown. "I will." bet against June that is. "You do not have the build, strength, reach or even the capacity of any warrior worth their salt." she assesses of the arrogant-looking girl. So much for making friends at the Ratchet!

"You are completely over your head and you know it. As if your desire for self-destruction was greater than anything else." Takes one to know one! But Hilde is slowly starting to lose those self-destructing habits. Like the booze.

Her grin deepens as that win comes, "Now we have money for the drinks."

Frigga has posed:
"She does have heart," Frigga interposes; always looking for the good, the Queen does. "Though," the word begins gently, paving the way for the rest, "this does not appear to be the place where proper training and the exercise of your abilities should be." If her words soften Brunnhilde's, then so be it. It is the basic message.

"I would not like to see someone hurt without cause." Notice the wording. Frigga is absolutely not against fighting, even in sporting as basic as this. "Perhaps a different circumstance would be better?"

Frigga had promised that the other fighter, the one who has now officially lost, would gain a coin. Apparently Frigga somehow knew the man honestly needed the money, whether it be for his own circumstance, or family, only the two of them know for sure. Excusing herself quietly, the blonde Queen hurries to the semi-conscious man and presses a gold coin of the Realm of Asgard into his hand, closing fingers around it. It'll be good for gold value at the very least. A month's rent, two perhaps, even in the City.

June Connor has posed:
    June's green eyes narrow. "You're on, bitch," she says. "Youse lucky fightin' outside a match her is banned or I'd kick /your/ ass. I'll just take your money instead." She gives a nod to Frigga, "Thanks," she gives some respect to the token of appreciation, then looks back at Brunnhilde. She flies a bird with a devil-may-care attitude, and turns on her heels as the Latin guy stumbles from the match defeated, being handed a water bottle and a rag to stop his bloody nose and lip.

    He's dazed, to be sure, and it takes him several moments to realize that he's holding a gold coin. When he does, he glances, trying to locate where it came from. He looks suspicious that it came from Frigga, though uncertain, and remarkably confused.

    The victor is given his accolades, and he exits shortly after before the announcer in the small room calls out, hushing the crowd to a lower level. "Okay, you all know June, she's back for more. June Connor, folks!" She's met with a rather inconsistent level of mockery, cheering, and indifference. Clearly not her first time here, though she's hardly earned any level of reputation. "And we got Tyler Prat, back in town after bein' away a couple months." He seems to be favored, with a mixture of approval and indifference, not so much of the mockery. "Okay, you both know how it works. Get your bell rung, or you tap out, you're out."

Brunnhilde has posed:
The laugh that comes out of the valkyrie is full of mirth, heard over all the screaming and excitement of the last fight. She is amused at June, "Girl. You don't want to face me either outside or inside the ring." the dollar bills are put away inside a backpocket before she folds her arms together, "But my Lady is right, you at least have some spunk to you. Maybe even some heart."

This is probably the Asgardian version of good cop and back cop.

"What is your name girl so I can seek you for proper measure of your talents?" because names are important. Not that she had to ask because the announcer just tells June's name for the world to hear.

Joining back with Frigga Hilde smiles faintly, "We may start to call attention upon us soon." a look to that gold coin Frigga left with the latin fighter.

Frigga has posed:
Frigga returns to Brunnhilde's side to hear the last of the threats and epithets, her expression remaining calmly neutral. The valkyrie's gentle but most accurate warning to the youth gains a slight nod of her head, though the Queen puts a soft hand out to the warrior's arm; not in warning, but in wise counsel. The child has been warned, so now how she takes it is up to her.

As June is named, Frigga looks again to her companion, the pair undoubtedly committing it to memory. The way June is acting, speaking, the chance of a trip to Valhalla is very, very real, though Frigga wishes it weren't so.

"She is a lost soul," Frigga whispers. "As was that fighter that was vanquished. If we are recognized, it may be to the benefit of at least one." She nods in the direction of the confused pugilist before echoing the valkyrie's smile, and she does agree, "Perhaps we should leave before then."

June Connor has posed:
    June glances back at Brunnhilde, which was the wrong thing to do, because the fight had just started. She takes a fist from Tyler right across the jaw. The man is the closest thing to her weight class, but still likely has a third of her body weight over her.

    Spit flies from her mouth and she stumbles back, now bringing her full attention back to her task at hand. She gives a quick raise of her eyebrows in amusement, and takes a ready stance. Surprisingly good form considering her demeanor, she suddenly seems to enter a different mode. Her attacker comes in again for a follow up, which she ducks beneath to give a nasty armpit pressure strike, causing him to wince back reflexively.

    She follows up tucking in for a few more quick strikes. An elbow on her right and then a jab on her left before he responds with a clench. He tries to pull her into a knee strike to the head, which she blocks, then blocks a second, though she is still taking injury from the blow. A knee is a lot stronger than a hand. She breaks free and pushes back for a drop kick to knock him backward. Both of them to to the ground, but June is faster. She mounts, delivers a few fists before she's thrown off just by nature that she is smaller. Tyler could throw her off. The fight goes back and forth for almost a minute longer before June does a pivot around a punch she baits into an overextension, and latches onto her opponent's back. It's clearly over before he taps out as she wraps both legs in a lock around him, and her bicep comes around his chest.

    Tyler makes a last ditch effort to bomb himself backward to land on her, but she seems to expect that. While she can't release her legs in that time, she releases his neck and pulls her torso to the side so he slams himself onto the concrete. Dazed for long enough, June leaps up to spin about, delivering an elbow to his nose. Blood sprays, and it's clear he can't intelligently defend himself. The referee pulls her back, and she leaps up, raising both arms as one is held up. A stream of victorious cursing comes from her.

    Bloody, bruised, and as happy as can be, that snarl of victory is on her face as the sweat cascades down her temples. The crowd roars it's approval. And her fierceness drops a little, as if the moment has passed, and that dopamine rush has already faded before she leaves the ring.

Brunnhilde has posed:
"I shall not pamper arrogant whelps. Yet it is true there is some measure of potential in the girl." Hilde admits, brushing some braids away from her face so she can more properly watch the fight that's coming. The outcome is mostly predicted way before it's over.

Which of course means that they win a bit more money. 'For drinks'.

"Yet even luck eventually runs out when one tries hard enough to self-destruct." She then grinning a bit more, "Still, this is a good place to come to and see how these people live. They may not be like their ancestors of old, always embroiled in battle, but they still have their own to face." she nodding Frigga's way.

Once June is stepping out of the ring she waves a pair of dollar bills her way, "Thank you for the money, June Connor." she seems extremely pleased with herself.

Frigga has posed:
"Potential that will find its way, given time and the proper settings." Apparently the Queen doesn't believe this hole in the wall is 'proper'. Though, to be fair, she'd be upset if Thor found his way here, so...

The fight doesn't last too long, and the victor returns from the ring, triumphant, and Brunnhilde is paid. The nod of acknowledgement Frigga gives to June is not one of pride, nor encouragement; it's an understanding and something of a sympathetic note that hangs upon it.

"I think I have seen enough here." It may be true, as well. Frigga's looked over the gathering, the winners, losers; those who belong in the establishment and those who do not, though there may be no better direction.

June Connor has posed:
    June looks up at Brunnhilde as she leaves the crowd, grabbing the towel handed to her along with her water bottle. Nothing glorious, the accolades are soon gone as the next fight is about to start. "So all that talk, but you bet on me?" she has a wrinkle in her smile and shakes her head, wiping the blood off her nose and, in lieu of a free hand, she uses her mouth to twist the cap off the water bottle. The cap is quickly lost somewhere on the floor, and she takes swig of it. "Made a little myself, and now I know you were posin'. One of those bullshit reverse psychologists? Piss me off so I fight harder?" she asks. "Guess I'm an easy mark like that."

    She glances at Frigga again. The royal nature doesn't quite fit the crowd, even if she doesn't look like a queen, there's no mistaking someone of that kind of authority. June's return glance at her says she can tell something's off, but not likely that she can tell Frigga is an actual queen of several worlds. "Youse all ain't from here," she says. "What brings you to a shithole like this anyway?"

Frigga has posed:
The crowd seems to be getting a little larger, the later in the evening it becomes. There are always people coming and going, and even on a week night, there are more coming than going it appears. The money is once again waved, and the valkyrie disappears from the room. It's difficult, really; one moment she's there, and the next, gone. With all the bluster and the bravado, Brunnhilde is best at her job, and it appears that a task has been set to her once more.

"We will sing their deeds in the Halls," is whispered to the valkyrie, and Queen Frigga is left alone.

Not that she's in any danger, mind. Not here, not from any of these people, fighters or not.

"Just because one thing is said, doesn't mean we cannot recognize the truth of things. And," Frigga offers a hint of a shrug, "It was your time." No, she won't go into the others problems; give the girl her victory.

Frigga, too, is making as if to depart, but not yet. Not quite yet. In the face of the question, she shakes her head. "There are many places that I have not yet seen. I am trying to see why my sons love this place as they do. And," Frigga smiles again, her features warm and still so very regal, "I am learning why." That, of course, doesn't speak to whether she AGREES or not, but...

"Are you done here now?"

June Connor has posed:
    "Love this place?" June has a rather confused looking green stare back at Frigga. "I don't know that anybody loves this place," she comments. "Hate to break it to you, but if your sons are comin' down here, they are probably gettin' drunk or gettin' punched." She looks over Frigga again. "I uh, nah I'm done. Just gotta get my cash y'know. I'm ready to bounce. Got kind of a headache, what with getting punched in the head and all." She gives a two finger point at Terrance, who nods, and counts out her winnings. It looks to be about $500. Hardly a grand winning. June takes and stuffs it in the cargo pocket, buttoning it to protect against pickpockets. "Now I'm done here," she says.

Frigga has posed:
Frigga simply smiles in the face of the words. They fit in the generality that she's speaking and needs no correction. Instead? "Yes, yes they do." They most certainly do. Her words are filled with that motherly warmth, though the feeling is such that she's probably one of those mothers that had EVERYONE on the street in her house at some point. Everyone's mother..

Now that June is finished, Frigga gestures towards the door, and beyond to the City's streets. "I'll walk you home."