THUD THUD THUD... WHACK!
The big man's fist slammed across the face of his victim, causing an explosion of color to splatter against the audience. John used the brief pause between his opponents practiced combinations to spin around and land a backwards fist against the unsuspecting man. The audience roared! This was what they came to see blood, and the way it lit up in the black light was impressive, he had to admit. John lifted his fist in the air and let out a roar, he was supposed to put on a good show...
His opponent recovered faster than John expected and landed a well placed roundhouse kick to his face, busting his lip. John stumbled back giving his unlucky opponent the satisfaction and to cover up the fact that the kick hardly made him blink. They exchanged a series of blows and grapples, John held back of course, and let the equilibrium of the fight change back and forth. This was good for the audience and the gambling. However, it was time for the fun to end. His opponent had John in a firm grapple, holding his shoulder and elbow preparing for a take down, when the big man quickly changed his posture and slammed his shoulder into the other mans stomach knocking the air out of him. With a effortless motion John heaved his body above his head to the cheers of the crowd and let him sit there for just a few heartbeats to let the crowd really soak in the moment before he ended his opponents night with a slam to the mat.
John quickly left the cage and found his way to the Red Room, it was where the fighters went to get ready for the big event. John washed his face briskly and put on a tank top. He liked to fight bare chested because he could claim blows just slid off. In reality they land perfectly fine just don't hurt, but he cant have everyone knowing they are fighting some mutant freak. That just wouldn't be fair!
It was only about five minutes before John showed up at his customary spot at the bar. It was here that he found his, colleague. John, or Tank has he was called in the ring, took awhile to warm up to people and the two's relationship had been mostly business thus far.
"He was good!" John smiled a awkward smile, stretching the lips to show the blood still staining his bottom teeth. His lip had, of course, already healed. Most fighters don't scratch him, he usually resorts to breaking his own nose or some other means to keep perceptions up. By this time the bartender already had John's customary winning drinks laid out before him, three shots of Jack and a Budweiser, which is not surprising since he hasn't had to get anything else yet. If he lost it would probably be the same thing though....