|
|
Post by Racetrack on Aug 22, 2011 15:40:33 GMT -5
Race didn't get upset very easily. He tended to bounce back from pretty much anything, as long as there were card games and races and plenty of friends around him. But once in a great while, all the bad things in life would add up...like, in this case, what Raven had gone through, his relentless love for Sapphy, his increasing frustration with having no idea where his life was going. And when that happened, his desire to take risks would go into overdrive, and horse races and low-stakes poker just wouldn't cut it. So he did what he'd sworn never to do again, and crossed the border into Five Points.
One of his fellow Sheepshead regulars had recommended the boxing matches that took place every day down by the old Brewery. He found the ring, with a big crowd gathered around it, and, eyeing the contestants from a distance, signaled the bookie and placed his money on the one listed as the Lion. Then he shoved his way through the crowd for a closer view...and gaped. The Lion looked very, very familiar.
|
|
|
|
Post by tshamien on Aug 22, 2011 15:46:39 GMT -5
Tristan, the Lion, dodged a punch that would have shattered his cheekbone if it had landed on its intended target, but he was too good for that. Tristan rushed up to his opponent fast and sent a hard jab into his kidney. The guy stumbled back and the crowd roared. Tristan took a step back, waiting for the guy to regroup. Man, this match felt like he was just playing with the poor guy.
|
|
|
|
Post by Racetrack on Aug 22, 2011 15:51:13 GMT -5
Race looked on, bewildered. He'd known Tristan could fight like this, but he hadn't known he did it for money. He wondered what Nevada thought of him taking a job like this. And, because he knew how things worked in Five Points, he wondered which powerful, infamous bastard was paying him to do it. He didn't try to get Tristan's attention, however, since this was the kind of activity that people generally didn't want to be distracted from.
|
|
|
|
Post by tshamien on Aug 22, 2011 15:56:02 GMT -5
Tristan took a hard punch right in the mouth. Instead of hurling backwards Tristan shoved the son of bitch forward and punched him across his jaw. When he had him pinned against the side of the ring he spat the blood out of his mouth off to the side, quickly. Then, with one hand on the guy's shoulder he upper cutted his right in his noise. His opponent hit the floor with a thud.
He stepped back and wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm, spat blood again and his eyes widened when he saw Racetrack standing there staring at him.
|
|
|
|
Post by Racetrack on Aug 22, 2011 16:14:18 GMT -5
Race continued staring at him until he realized he'd just won a respectable sum of money. He raised a hand in a vague 'you know where I'll be' gesture and went back to the bookie, where he collected his cash and waited for Tristan to find him, as he had a feeling he'd probably want to discuss this.
|
|
|
|
Post by tshamien on Aug 22, 2011 17:02:50 GMT -5
Tristan found Spot out back in the alleyway. He lit up a cigarette. "You tell anyone what I'm doing and I'll punch you." He remarked casually, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.
|
|
|
|
Post by Racetrack on Aug 22, 2011 17:12:51 GMT -5
((You mean Race? Hehe.))
Race raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing, exactly? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you gave me the whole 'stay out of Five Points, you idiot' speech four years ago."
|
|
|
|
Post by tshamien on Aug 22, 2011 17:17:18 GMT -5
(Ha yes! Sorry!)
"Yea because you're Racetrack Higgins, it don't have nothing to do with me and I was born in this hellhole." He said, he took another drag of his cigarette. "I would love to make you a small fortune, but lay off my fights."
|
|
|
|
Post by Racetrack on Aug 22, 2011 17:22:17 GMT -5
Race rolled his eyes and lit a cigar, wondering why his friends insisted on always being in some kind of trouble. Always. "Is this for Nevada and the kids? 'Cause there have gotta be other ways to make money in this town."
|
|
|
|
Post by tshamien on Aug 22, 2011 17:34:21 GMT -5
"Yea it is..." Tristan said with a sigh. "I happen to be exceptionally good at this ya know? I could lecture you the same way ya know, there's safer ways to make extra cash than this."
|
|
|
|
Post by Racetrack on Aug 22, 2011 17:50:27 GMT -5
"I realize that. This was me being reckless 'cause I'm in a reckless mood. But you're being long-term restless. Does Spot not even know about this?" He looked around, half-expecting one of the birds to descend on them any second.
|
|
|
|
Post by tshamien on Aug 22, 2011 17:58:58 GMT -5
"No, nobody knows, just Nevada. I'm making good money Race, I wouldn't do it otherwise, by the way, how much did ya win?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Racetrack on Aug 22, 2011 18:02:50 GMT -5
"A very nice amount," Race said, refusing to be distracted. "Who's running the fights?"
|
|
|
|
Post by tshamien on Aug 22, 2011 18:08:42 GMT -5
"Alex." Tristan said he tossed his smoke on the floor and put it out with his boot. "So, I really don't need him connecting him to people."
|
|
|
|
Post by Racetrack on Aug 22, 2011 18:40:18 GMT -5
"Alex Wisely?" Race almost dropped his cigar. He knew the guy's reputation. Anyone who had ever spent time in the Points knew it. And suddenly he thought of Tristan's son who Race had never met, of his wife and the baby she was expecting, and of Raven and the baby she'd been expecting and the price of having stupid turf wars and shady passtimes and living in fucking Brooklyn.
"Do you honestly think this is worth it, Tris? You know he's gonna find out about them, and then you'll be stuck doing this forever, or whatever the hell else he wants you to do, to keep him from coming after them. You could work in a goddamn factory or something."
He almost added, but didn't quite, that he was starting to think that if he ever had a girl or a family of his own, he'd turn his back on Brooklyn and stay the hell away from all of them.
|
|
