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 Posted: Sun Apr 22, 2007 4:02 pm
The night rolled away into dawn. The sun rose over an already buzzing city, casting large shadows accross the nevada desert. People where waking up, going to work and planning thier day, while others where finishing up hundred thousand dollar poker games.
The tournament would start later this after noon around 5pm, enough time to put together a highlights package for Television.
Joey woke with the sun blasting though his windows. This was in Joey's books, one of the most unpleasant ways of waking up. It sturred him, as he tangled in the bedding in an effort to escape the irratating heat.
Giving up, Joey rolled off the side of the bed and wondered into the shower.
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Posted: Fri Apr 27, 2007 7:56 am
(I had already written this post before.. but Gaia was sucky and didn't post it for me crying Must do it again. Ahem: )
No sooner did Monique awoke from her bed she knew that soon reporters of all kinds would be looming everywhere trying to get a scoop on the favorite fighting figures that the tournament featured. And though she was none to like too much fame, she always did try to give the best impression she could to the people. Breakfast was taken with company, as a certain magazine reporter asked her a few questions. Silly things to which she replied; she liked coffee with French vanilla in the morning and preffered a two-piece bathing suit to a single-pieced one. Such were the trivialities that people wanted to know, for some odd reason. Then again, some people actually live off the drool that oozes from fanatics' mouths as they walk by.
After interviews came photography. It was early morning, 9 am to be exact, and Monique would take advantage of the refreshing morning sun to take a sunbath. Soon she appeared by the poolside in a white bikini with a white bonnet to cover her face. After covering her body with tanning lotion, her skin thus carrying a gentle scent of tropical flowers, she laid down upon a long beach chair and relaxed.
There was really no need to stand and pose - magazine photographers would surely be looking for ways to get a perfect shot, being paparazzis more than anything. At times, it was best to ignore them, or simply be polite, the first case issuing at that particular moment while Monique enjoyed the soothing sunrays.
She would remain there for an hour and a half, 45 minutes to each side, plenty of time to kill before she would actually have to prepare for the competition.
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Posted: Tue May 08, 2007 9:32 pm
Marcus had been up and just got back to the hotel. He had an very interesting night and day here in Las Vegas hoping to go with the saying 'what happens here stays here'.
Feeling excitment run through his body, he was midly interested in who he was matched up to fight today. He missed meeting any other fighters in the past few days, something he regrest but due to his cocky attitude he feels that he didn't have to meet them as no one cana stand up to his 'ability' as he dubs it.
"Mr. Jackson! Mr. Jackson!." A squeeky voice calls and then a crowd turns running over to him, of course the press was waiting for almost any fighter to be alone and wondering around, and then givin this ones age it was amazing for him to be in such a highly regarded tournament.
Letting a smirk fall upon his face he doesn't go to avoid the reporters, infact he likes the attention.
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Posted: Mon May 14, 2007 6:59 am
Although Joey had been known to be somewhat of a bum, he always managed to muster up increadible amounts of focus and will before his fights.
Loosing, was not acceptable.
After his shower, he was already in sweats. Knowing that reporters where likely outside his window, it would be more fun to just avoid them.
Going out to his balcony, he tumbled head first over the railing to catch ahold of the ledge and swing himself onto the balcony below.
A skill gained in youth is rarely forgotton.
Calmly he made his way though the vacant room and let himself out into the hall way. Lifting his hood over his head he jogged down the hall way, to dissapear down the stairs. After all he had a morning warm up to get though. Luckily no-one seemed to take notice of the young man as he jogged out of the building.
About an hour later, he retured, sweat staining his grey tracksuit. This was of no matter to the young man. Now that he was warmed up, he was able to face the reporters in his distinct Joey style.
Pushing his hood away, he strode off to the hotel pool. It was always a great place to be after a work out. Some reporters who where having no luck with the teenage entrant, Mr Jackson, saw a golden opportunity to interview Joey. The older ones, noticed Mr Carerra walk in, and decided rather to continue trying thier luck with Mr Jackson. MR JACKSON, MR JACKSON, HOW DO YOU THINK YOU WILL FARE AGAINST AN OLDER MORE EXPERIENCED FIGHTER TONIGHT!? ARE YOU PROPERLY PREPARED."
One reporter piped up, din of reporters cluttering the airwaves.
It was loud enough to catch Joey's attention, affording him time to stand to one side and have a listen, while he eye'd the boy.
"MR CARERRA, JOEY! ARE YOU GOING TO RETIRE AFTER THIS FIGHT, DO YOU THINK YOU CAN LAST THE MATCH? ARE YOU GOING TO USE THE WILD CARD ENTY TO MAKE IT TO THE FINALS!"
Joey glared at the young sports reporter, while annoying dictatorphones where stuck in his face. The flashes seemed to be going off relentlessly, it seeme like they would never stop. And Joey had not eaten....he was in a mood.
"Well Dickbert, I plan on crushing him, and you can quote me on that before you fill out your insurance papers.", he left the reporter confused, allowing opportunity from other reporters and photographers demanding poses. Joey ablidged, took a step back and held his bandaged fists up, a classic fighing pose. Suddenly, with out warning, he let one of his trademark, lightning jabs rip. It was so quickly followed though with his chopping right, that only after the young sports reporter's feet left the ground did they notice. With breakneck speed, Joey dashed forward winding his right arm up in one movement and while the reporter was still falling back in mid air, Joey's right fist met with the reporters broken nose once more smashing his unconsious body into the marble floor.
Instantly, the reporters cleared a space around the tempremental fighter, as he calmly rolled his shoulders. After spitting on the reporter he headed off for the pool, leaving a wake of reporters clicking thier cameras at him, while one unfortunate man, lay in a slight crater on the floor, with cracks forming outward from his sprawled body.
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Posted: Mon May 14, 2007 7:05 pm
Of course, beating up a reporter is gonna draw the attention of those around and Marcus got to catch a few glimspes of it as reporters cleared a path for Joey.
"So, this is who I get to fight?" He yells out to the fighter as he is leaving. "One who beats up harmless reporters? Scum, they are. But don't deserve this." He pauses and looks over to some of the reporters.
"They say those that pick on the weak, are very weak and you can even quote me on that. This guy, it will be a simple match." Mr. Jacksons cocky attitude takes over and he tries to speak as loud as possible so not just everyone around him hears what he says but he hopes that this could reach the ears of Joey, it would be interesting to see how the man controls his emotions or reacts to taunts. Any info he can get before the fight can be of use for when he actually fights him.
Though his mind starts to wonder, what other fighters await him and not knowing what people can do and what he is facing is a mistake he probably shouldn't have made.
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Posted: Tue May 15, 2007 3:26 am
With out flinching, Joey remained on course. "Your time will come soon enough.", he had to reply. Joey always had the last word.
He made his way past the velvet ropes, into the VIP area where reporters where no longer allowed to go. Two gorrilla sized men in dark suites quickly closed the gap to stop the torrent of rif-raf from gaining entry.
This little scene in the foyer left reporters clamering over themselves to grap pictures and write down quotes. If they where quick enough they could get it to print for the evening edition. Mr Carerra's antics certainly would have gotten him a spot on the evening news. Afterall, there is no such thing as bad publicity.
Stepping out to the hotel's courtyard and pool area, where everything seemed a lot calmer, Joey effortlessly pulled his grey hoody over his head as he stepped over to a vacant pool chair. From accross the pool he could see that sculent young Monique catching a few rays. Not far off he could see those filthy reporters taking pictures over the walls.
It was amazing how far these guys would go for a story, good or bad.
None the less, he took a seat to remove his sweat pants. Pre-thought had left Joey with a pair of swiming trunks under his training clothes.
Leaning back into the chair, he began to unwind the bandages around his fists, of course letting Monique catch his eye.
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Posted: Tue May 15, 2007 7:00 pm
((A short-ish post to show that I'm still here.))
Hans had slept well last night, his dreams filled with the endless hours of training he had put into himself before coming to fight in this tournament, each second his mind running over another move and how it could bring him a win. Of course winning didn't matter to Hans as much as it should have, but he enjoyed the fighting and the variety of opposing styles, so why worry?
Having started his day with a full English breakfast, Hans now sat in the gym. Dressed in a pair of long black shorts, a white tank top and a pair of hiking boots; the footwear was the obvious odd one out here, but all it mattered to Hans was that he was comfortable. With the weights set and repetitions being marked by his personal trainer and friend, Hans waited patiently for his fight.
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Posted: Mon May 28, 2007 10:18 am
At that precise moment, Monique's digital watch let out a consistent set of beeps. She had placed it next to her seat and, as she heard it, she picked up, looking at the time. Her sunbath was just about done. She stood up from the seat and stretched herself out, indeed showing off a strong yet sensuous and attractive figure. The pose - her arms held up over her head, her torso just about relaxing, her shapely legs uncovered, and her face only barely being covered by that bonnet of hers - was picture perfect, one that the paparazzis, of course, would waste no time in taking advantage of.
She picked up her towel just at the time she noticed Joey across the pool, taking off some bandages off his hands and forearms. Surely, someone had been training early. She smiled, and setting the towel down again, she approached the edge of the pool. With a fish's ease, she dove right into it, disappearing beneath the water for about 15 seconds. It was the time it took her to reach the other side, Joey's, and as she did, she pulled herself out from the pool, the water sliding over her body, slipping along the oiled surface. She needed to cool off her skin nonetheless.
"Good morning, Mr. Carrera.. " she greeted in that particular French accent of hers, while pulling some hair away from her face. "Slept well?"
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Posted: Wed May 30, 2007 12:09 pm
The sun was blazing down today. The buzz of traffic adding to the heat of the day. The cars seemed to move as one large annaconda, moving as a shoal of fish would as the snake rounded the wide corners of the highway. And out of the mass, a medium sized yellow taxi seemed to break free as it took a turn off to the large blue-black Pyramid shaped building that streched thirty five stories into the air. It pulled up under the shade of the lavish egyptian styled entrance.
Joey watched her dive into the water, barely making a splash. Calmly he continued to unwind his bandages, still clean despite how the reporter's face ended up. 'The man's faster than gushing blood!', was one quote from his former boxing coach. Tossing the bandages to the floor with the reast of his clothes, he heard Monique push herself out of the pool, along with the water dripping off her body to the hot ground beneath her. Joey looked up at her, his eyes following her legs and up along her figure before resting his squinted eyes on her face.
"Morning to you too sweet cakes."
The girl must definately be a loony. Her accent gone from thier encounter last night. It amused him though. Obviously she had come over by choice. Taking a quick look around the pool area he noted how few intresting things there where to engage in.
At the far wall, reporters cameras where snapping away as they could see the headlines thier photos insipired.
"What made you come over?", he asked still sitting up looking her in the eye as best he could. "...Being all lady like gets boring when there's no one around, huh?", grinning with that little remark, remembering full well that other Monique he met in the corridor. All the while thinking how she just needed to let loose.
It was impossible to dismiss the thoughts running through his head. Not while she stood in a bathing suit infront of him, with wather cascading from her smooth skin. She was hot.
From the packed taxi stepped, an older man in his early sixties, wearing a grey polyester lesure suit with a grey shirt with and oversized colar. He looked of arab decent, with a full head of black hair with grey streaks running across the sides of his hair. Obviously the man dyed his hair. Obviously the man was still stuck in the 70s.
From the other side, a pair of white nikes skipped out onto the cobble stone drive. The little boy spoke in entheusiastic arabic to his grand father, and then addressed his grandmother, helping the short plump woman from the car. The driver helped them with thier bags until grandpa paid for the fair. The little boy of around four of five seemed very animated. Excited even. Countless times, his grandmother had to give calming words to the boy that sounded like, "soon soon my child, soon." All the while grandpa stood looking cooler than cool.
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Posted: Sun Jun 03, 2007 8:07 am
The French fighter proceeded to pull her damp hair away from her face as she looked down upon her fellow opponent, Joey. A smile greeted him, though the previous day's attitude still remained; ever proper and collected. In a calm tone, and that accent, she replied.
"Whatever may you mean, Monsieur Carrerra, that a lady may not greet a man in such fashion? I think it rather courteous to come over and meet you. Don't you?"
She moved on to one of the seats and grabbed a clean towel that was draped over the seat, proceeding to dry herself and gently squeeze the water out of her dark hairs. The cameras kept rolling. Surely, most knew that Carrerra had a way with the ladies, and to see him in action with one such lady as Mademoiselle Fallheart. Truly front-page magazine material.
"I do hope you are prepared for today's bout. I am eager to see a fighter of your callibre doing his work. Of course, I will, how do you say..? "Take a few pointers"?" She smiled, not a flirty smile, but a rather gentle smile, as someone eager to learn from her opponents. Given, she couldn't learn much. After all, Zizou did all the work.
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Posted: Sun Jun 03, 2007 1:39 pm
Joey casually reclined in his seat and closed his eyes. The fact that she seemed oblivious to her dual personalities was suprising as well as amusing. He streched out his arms and legs, before relaxing himself and looking over in her direction. "You where acting differently when we met last night. I wondered if your lady like antics was a show to the world."
Joey replied, interested in what she had to say to that. At that moment, Joey couldn't decide weather or not she was a headcase, or just some one who changed the way they acted around people.
"I do hope you are prepared for today's bout. I am eager to see a fighter of your callibre doing his work. Of course, I will, how do you say..? "Take a few pointers"?"
Chuckling a little, he shook his head and closed his eyes. "Heh, Even if you could see my punches I doubt you'd be able to use them effectivly." Opening his eyes he stared right back into hers.
"I will win, and thats all you need to know.", he said with cocky arroganc about him, determination burning in his eyes.
Meanwhile as the older couple began checking themselves in at the counter, the young boy slipped off unnoticed. The boy pulled a lollipop from a pocket of his grey baggy shorts, wiped it briefly on his blue Ninja Turtles T-shirt and popped it in his mouth. He was on a mission. Cruious brown eyes had noticed a crowd of reporters, and his limited experience had told him to investigate. Being as small as he was, he pushed and crawled his way though the reporters, managing to slip by the gorrilla gaurds who where focusing thier attention on keeping aggrivated reporters at bay.
Once the boy was though, and out into the pool area, he looked around. It was pretty bare, he could see two people down at one end. A beautiful woman's back blocking the identity of the man lying down.
The boy seemed disapointed and made his way back to the lobby, unnoticed, only to find his grandparents wheren't where he'd left them...
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Posted: Wed Jun 06, 2007 12:39 pm
After a few talks with each reporter Marcus grew tired of the same questions asked over and over; it seeming that the reporters also grew tired of getting the sames answers over and over. So soon Mr. Jackson was found wondering around a bit trying to waste some time, he wouldn't admit it but he was nervous. How old was he? How old was everyone else? How many more days of training have they put it? How many days has he slacked off?
More then he could count, but these were all questions buzzing through his mind. Moving into the lobby he glances around, starting to do a little people watching. Spying a little kid with a ninja turtles t-shirt on and no-one around he found that kinda odd. It is Vegas, and dangerous for any youngster, but himself, to be left alone.
"Ralph has to be my favorite Ninja Turtle." He says as he approaches the kid kneeling down to get around his height level. "I'm Marcus, what's your name?" He smiles and his expression is very friendly. "And where is your paretns kiddo?"
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Posted: Thu Jun 07, 2007 3:27 am
The boy seemed realitivly calm and brave looking, considering the consequences running though his head. This had obviously happened before. He scanned the lobby while bobbing his head to a beat he could only hear, he twirled his lollypop in his mouth while his right arm lay idle.
"Ralph has to be my favorite Ninja Turtle."
"Nuh UH! Michaelangelo is the bestest. My umpa said he painted pictures too.", he said almost immediately defending the 'bestest' turtle, before even turning to look at the man. He gave him a quick glance.
"Hello. My namesMatt.", he said in that loud young child tone. "Um....I can't find my Dad. umpa and u-ma are I dunno...can you see 'em?", he asked assuming that everone knew who his dad was, and who his grandparents where.
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Posted: Sat Jun 09, 2007 10:18 pm
"Nuh UH! Ralph is so much cooler! He has the cool guy attitude kiddo." Marcus says trying to mimic the boy's voice. He had a few little cousins that lived with him and he always had a nack for being around kids, sometimes even liked it better then adults.
"Though your umpa is right, the ninja turtles are all named after famous painters Matt. Though this isn't good that you can't find your dad or your grandparents." he stands up to his feet. "Do you know your dads name or your grandparents name?" He is half expecting to get the answer my dads name is dad and my grandparents names are umpa and u-ma.
"I'll help you find him too, don't wanna be all alone here in las vegas."
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Posted: Mon Jun 11, 2007 5:41 am
The boy looked around, the weight of the situation had of course hit him and he realised that there was a chance he would not see his dad or his grandparents today. Still he didn't shed a tear, a vetran calm seemed to hit Matt. He had a knack for getting lost and finding his way back.
"My dady's name is Joseph. Do you know him? He's a fighter!", he added with glee.
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