(Named from the song Real Gone.)

Sara wasn’t normally found in places that conducted shadier business. A few years ago she started to do her best to avoid the gatherings where underground fights were held, ‘merchandise’ was shipped and auctioned off, and gambling took place. In the last year, things had taken another turn. Though what turn, she wasn’t quite sure, Sara thought to herself as she watched a woman in a red sequined halter top, and high healed cowboy boots carry a rooster past her. The rooster looked as though someone was preparing him for dinner by plucking large patches of his feathers out, then decided what the hell. He could be a stylish carry around pet instead. A pet you want to handle with thick leather gloves…. Sara suddenly realized the rough way that the woman had to hold the bird. Her steps carried her to a smaller area separating the large room by picket fence that someone had dragged in and some folding chairs.

“Please tell me that we’re not here to watch chickens peck each other to death.” Sara said. Eyeing two other individuals over the fence.

“N’aw. I remember your squeamish about it.” Dale said fiddling with his cap on his rootbeer trying to remove it till Sara snatched the bottle from him and flicked the cap with the rounded part of her claw.

“I’m not squeamish. I just don’t like it.” Sara handed the bottle back to Dale who snatched it a bit faster than he first intended. Making the inner commence splash out the bottle’s lip.

Dale had olive skin. He wasn’t someone who dressed special to go to events like this. Where some people (And mutants) had shown up in ironed shirts, ties, and little black dresses, Dale was skinny. He didn’t have much to show off in that manner and seemed to embrace this fact even more by wearing a Thunder Cats T-shirt with matching flip flops.

Sara’s tail flicked. There was just enough noise coming from the crowd around herself and Dale that she thought that she could distract herself from the smell of the preshow involving the roosters. So instead, she chose to turn her attention on the rest of the evening’s events. Dale was offering her information on a trafficking ring in exchange for her assistance in picking out some winning fighters. It was something that she had a knack for thanks to the more predatory side of her mutation. “They’re birds who cares.” Dale said drawing Sara’s attention and causing her to raise one furry eye brow in his direction. The tip of her tail flicked just behind her heals. In Dale’s mind the roosters only were worth chump change. He thought of himself as a lot richer than he really was when it came to gambling and it made him more of an @$$ than usual. “Just do your thing with the rest of the events.”

Sara couldn’t help but roll her eyes, but nonetheless, she started studying the human combatants and entertainment for the evening.

Enders sat in his corner quietly watching as the cities worst passed in front of him his teeth clenched as he silently looked at each of their faces taking each one into his memory as he hid behind his black hood. Pulling his hand up to his mouth he dragged on the cigarette the slight glow of the cherry illuminating his face. Glancing around Enders picked out several individuals on the most wanted list and a few faces he recognized as instigators from the Riots. It had taken a long time for Enders to get an invite to this venue but now that he was here he would make the most of it when he got his chance.

Blowing the smoke out of his nose it slowly rose licking its way out from underneath his hood and as he turned his attention to the other competitors that he would be going up against tonight. The Marine watched as needles entered veins containing what he suspected to be a generous dose of M before he shifted his gaze towards the crowd that gathered around the cock fights.

It wasn’t long before the vertically challenged organizer for the fights approached Enders. “Alright kid, your up.” The crystal mutant didn’t say a word as his eyes flicked towards the small man his eyes burning into him before he backed away and moved to resume his organizing duties. Standing up Enders took one final drag of his cigarette before flicking it off into a corner and making his way towards the ring.

This was easily the largest venue Enders had fought in, while it was clear by the sheer amount of people in attendance it also rang true in the size of the ring. The large circular stone wall that surrounded it covered about the size of a football field and looking inside it sank down about another twelve feet giving the combatants plenty of room to use their powers and leaving the spectators enough space to not be struck by any flying debris. Pulling the zipper of his hooded sweatshirt down he quickly shrugged the jacket off before pealing the black t-shirt off revealing an array of scars tattoos and muscles. Leaping over the wall into the pit wearing only a pair of jeans and boots Enders tilted his head side to side stretching the muscles out.

Enders could hear someone announcing the fighters but inside the pit he couldn’t distinguish what was being said and as his opponent dropped into the ring he really could care less what was said. Compared to the bald behemoth that stood across from him Enders was short as the giant stood at around eleven feet tall and by Enders estimation 700 pounds of pure muscle. The monster of a man slammed his fist into his open palm and for a moment Enders thought he could feel the pressure hit him in the chest from the pure power behind it.

It wasn’t long before the sound of a bell went off and the giant launched himself towards Enders taking off at a run across the ring. As he reached about half way the Marine finally made any sort of move as he lifted up his right hand leaving the open palm out towards his opponent. As the behemoth neared he pulled his fist back prepared to flatten Enders and as the punch was thrown Enders moved once again, his body angled itself and he pushed his left hand out behind him his skin glistening slightly as his eyes exploded in blue light moments before they were both concealed in a cloud of dust and smoke kicked up from the dirt floor of the ring.

A loud scream obviously from the giant rang out from the cloud before being cut short by something. As the dust began to settle revealing the giants head first crystal shards receded from his eye sockets and mouth, as the dust sank further crystals disappeared from random openings in the mans skin until it sank low enough to reveal the whole situation. Enders stood the mans fist pressed against the crystal arm of Enders own blood dripping from where the two connected and the random openings that now appeared in the giants arm as crystals shrank and disappeared leaving open wounds. Enders stood several long shards protruding from his back and legs into the ground absorbing the impact from the strike as well as an additional shard covering his entire left arm straight into the ground behind him. As he pulled him his hand from the giants own several small wounds dripped blood from the fist and stepping away the giant came crashing down to the ground kicking up more dirt.

Dale was annoying when he wanted to be. Sara couldn’t deny that and when he started being a bit demanding about Sara getting to work and studying the combatants, Sara decided to have a little fun. After all. Dale needed to be reminded who was helping who right now. Sure Sara wanted information, that Dale had promised her, but she was being nice about the way that she was getting it and as a result she was fueling his gambling habit.

Sara leaned her elbows on the edge of the chest high barricade that had been put up around the arena. Her tail twitching at the backs of her heals as she eyed the competitors. “I think you’re gut feeling will be the right one.” Sara fibbed. A little bit of sarcasm dripped into her voice, but Dale was too jumpy to notice.

“Ah the big one.” Dale jumped on the choice and rushed off to the organizer to place his bet.

As Dale made his way to one of the coordinators, Sara staid at the edge of the arena waiting for the event to begin. She wasn’t sure if the big guy really stood a chance or not, but she knew one thing. The smaller of the competitors was covered in scars and he didn’t look like he was shitting himself by facing someone with the bicep that looked like it was the size of a trunk of a tree.

The announcer looked like he was getting ready to introduce the combatants and Sara decided to made a last minute bet of her own. Just because she was misleading Dale didn’t mean that she couldn’t have a little increase in income of her own. And it certainly did not mean that she had a gambling problem because she definitely did not… not at all.

With the simple motion of her hand, she flagged down one of the bookies who trotted over to her, shoving his way past the crowd. Huffing around his heavy frame, and meaty, hairy, arm. “Two hundred dollars says that the shorter of the two will win.” Sara placed her bet. The man frowned when he took her money. Two hundred wasn’t nearly as much as others were betting, but he took the cash nonetheless, and wrote her information down in his book.

“You could make more cash, if you were down there” The bookie grinned at Sara showing two missing teeth past his thick lips.

Sara did a one shoulder shrug. “I only fight when I have to. Here, I don’t have to.”
“Got it.” The bookie said before he turned so that he could finish the gathering the rest of the bets that the crowd around Sara wished to place. Dale returned next to Sara’s side as the last of the announcements for the fight were made.

The crowd erupted loud enough that even Sara had trouble hearing the bell ring signaling the beginning of tonight’s entertainment. Sara’s feline ears pinned against the back of her head and one of the combatants, the bigger one with the limbs the size of tree trunks, was on the move.

The dust that filled the air instantly, made it impossible to see exactly what had happened, but the larger man’s blood curdling scream, and the stillness in the air and dust, around the two in the arena said that things were over.

The crowd from around the edge of the arena, and even Sara, found herself leaning forward in an attempt to squint through the dust and debris and see what was happening. Or what had happened. She saw the crystals first. Then the face that they were coming out of. Sara felt herself let out a low growl. Dale was silent, and someone to Sara’s right excused themselves past Sara. The smell of urine following them through the sea of people that were suddenly thicker around Sara. Some of them were scooting away from the edge of the arena. Others whooped and hollered about the results.

The giant man fell flat on his face, kicking up more dirt, and when the air in the room changed direction from his falling, even from where Sara stood about of the fight, she could smell the thick sent of blood from multiple wounds. “I thought that you said people don’t normally die at these things.” Sara said shoving Dale in the rib with her elbow.

Dale cursed. He wadded up the piece of paper that was the proof of his bet up into a ball, and chucked it down at the winner of the fight’s head. Then the open, glass, bottle of root beer followed the wadded piece of paper. Cussing and screaming something about fixing the fight.

Sara crossed her arms. Tail still flicking just behind her heals. “Dale, you’re an idiot.”