Post by Eilon on Oct 22, 2014 16:01:14 GMT
The roar of the crowd. The sound was invigorating, intoxicating, setting his blood on fire as the adrenaline coursed through his veins. It was true what they say- you are meant to please the crowd...and if you gain their praise, you become invincible.
You can become a god.
Thirsting for blood. You're a wild beast awaiting their beckoning call, unleashed upon whatever lie ahead in front of you.
It was cool within the tunnel; the sun casting shadows from the iron gate over sculpted muscle as he waited for his entrance, waited for the warmth from that orange orb that would bathe his tanned flesh.
The stone around him vibrated and pulsated as the crowd's thunderous applause and stomping feet threatened to break the foundation of the building he stood in. He took in a deep, heavy breath; trademark grin creased on his face while fist slammed into opposite palm, neck shifting back and forth to cause those little ‘pops’ and ‘cracks’ before he shrugged his shoulders to loosen them.
In reality, despite what went on inside his own head, the crowd was nothing but a circle of drunkards tossing around bets, screaming and yelling obscenities as they awaited the fight. Eilon couldn’t remember how it started, exactly...possibly something to do with his mother being a “Lucerian’s whore”, or that he was “chicken shit”. You know, the usually drink-induced insults. Not that it mattered because he never backed down from a challenge, no matter how foolish it was.
Outside, he heard his name being announced over the loud, obnoxiously cheering crowd before the gate was opened. With arrogant pride, he emerged from the dark tunnel, the Elyrian sun instantly beating down on him, causing those fierce eyes to squint and adjust to the light before taking in the crowd...followed by the rather large and burly man on the other side of the circle.
Hmm, maybe he should take a raincheck.
You can become a god.
Thirsting for blood. You're a wild beast awaiting their beckoning call, unleashed upon whatever lie ahead in front of you.
It was cool within the tunnel; the sun casting shadows from the iron gate over sculpted muscle as he waited for his entrance, waited for the warmth from that orange orb that would bathe his tanned flesh.
The stone around him vibrated and pulsated as the crowd's thunderous applause and stomping feet threatened to break the foundation of the building he stood in. He took in a deep, heavy breath; trademark grin creased on his face while fist slammed into opposite palm, neck shifting back and forth to cause those little ‘pops’ and ‘cracks’ before he shrugged his shoulders to loosen them.
In reality, despite what went on inside his own head, the crowd was nothing but a circle of drunkards tossing around bets, screaming and yelling obscenities as they awaited the fight. Eilon couldn’t remember how it started, exactly...possibly something to do with his mother being a “Lucerian’s whore”, or that he was “chicken shit”. You know, the usually drink-induced insults. Not that it mattered because he never backed down from a challenge, no matter how foolish it was.
Outside, he heard his name being announced over the loud, obnoxiously cheering crowd before the gate was opened. With arrogant pride, he emerged from the dark tunnel, the Elyrian sun instantly beating down on him, causing those fierce eyes to squint and adjust to the light before taking in the crowd...followed by the rather large and burly man on the other side of the circle.
Hmm, maybe he should take a raincheck.