Post by Dire Wolf on Aug 12, 2012 22:31:23 GMT -5
Time period: Five years ago
Location: Dantooine
Participants: Dutch
Other Info: Boxing Match
Marcus rolled his shoulders back and forth and his skin caressed the silk robe that had been draped over him to keep his muscles from getting too warm or too cold. This bout wasn't like all the others. One of his oldest friends stood on the other side. Dutch Sampson, probably one of the best boxers that he had known. They practically learned how to fight together. Dutch had his back since he could remember, ignoring the few years that he was in the military, and they had busted more skulls and broken more teeth than he could count.
He began to roll his neck just to feel the crack of his neck popping. A few light-footed hops later he began to jog towards the ring. Dutch was a hella good fighter, but he had been fighting the same men for the past few years. Marcus had traveled the galaxy, been on his unit's shock boxing team, and brawled more than his fair share of men while drunk or protecting a woman. Or whatever.
His wondrous, adoring crowd was little more than a handful of drunken people that would no doubt egg them on to do some dirty fighting. Marc was all about that when his life was in danger, but wouldn't do it during a simple bout with one of his friends. So there he hopped, almost dancing, his tattoos glaring out at the man that would enter the ring after him: Dutch Sampson.
Location: Dantooine
Participants: Dutch
Other Info: Boxing Match
Marcus rolled his shoulders back and forth and his skin caressed the silk robe that had been draped over him to keep his muscles from getting too warm or too cold. This bout wasn't like all the others. One of his oldest friends stood on the other side. Dutch Sampson, probably one of the best boxers that he had known. They practically learned how to fight together. Dutch had his back since he could remember, ignoring the few years that he was in the military, and they had busted more skulls and broken more teeth than he could count.
He began to roll his neck just to feel the crack of his neck popping. A few light-footed hops later he began to jog towards the ring. Dutch was a hella good fighter, but he had been fighting the same men for the past few years. Marcus had traveled the galaxy, been on his unit's shock boxing team, and brawled more than his fair share of men while drunk or protecting a woman. Or whatever.
His wondrous, adoring crowd was little more than a handful of drunken people that would no doubt egg them on to do some dirty fighting. Marc was all about that when his life was in danger, but wouldn't do it during a simple bout with one of his friends. So there he hopped, almost dancing, his tattoos glaring out at the man that would enter the ring after him: Dutch Sampson.