Thread: Bargain Struck (Alvis & EveningSky)

It was not an overly crowded place, the gym that he trained in. Well stocked, well equipped, but somewhat exclusive with it's membership, there would only be around 4 to five members in at a time, plus a few trainers to assist. Heavy bags and speed bags were set up at various points, along with weights of all descriptions to build raw strength. There were two open areas that were mainly used for sparring, along with one raised platform surrounded by ropes. In days gone by the gym had been one of the premier boxing training centers of the country, producing no fewer than five contenders in ten years. But times had changed, and boxing had largely faded from the public view. The owner, Everett Tallet had tried to keep the place going, but there just wasn't the money in boxing like it had been. Forced into retirement, the gym had changed hands a few times until a new owner had steped in, and converted the place over to a more MMA style of training. It kept the place afloat, but it just wasn't the same as before. The aura of prestige that had surrounded the place was a dull thing now, barely visible to any but some of the older coaches and trainers that still remembered the glory days. The sound of fists striking pads carried well, and every now and again one of the memebrs would galce at teh raised ring, seeing the training going on there. An older man wore the pads, and provided targets for his student. The student was one that the gym was pinning it's hopes of regaining some traction. He was a tall man, well over six feet, with dark hair kept cut close to the scalp, not quite a buzz cut, but not much more than that either. his face had a few scars on it, evidence of a rougher life than some, and his eyes were intense, a slate grey that seemed focused intently on whatever was before him. His hands were large, the knuckles scarred and callused, showing long years of hard wear and use. His arms were longer than average for his size, giving him prodigious reach. The rest of his frame was lean and weathered, no excess fat carried on him, and long line of honed corded muscle showed clearly. Come on Carl, I'm not here to play patty-cake. The older man taunted. His student, Carl, narrowed his gaze, and his hands whipped forward in a vicious combo, his left hooking in to hit one of the pads to knock it partly aside while the right came in with a long straight. It hit the older man right in the forehead, and sent him tot he floor in a heap. Patty-cake that old man. He drawled, leaning forward to offer him a hand up. The older man took it. What did I say about hitting me like that? That it was impulsive and manly? Sort of, but I think the exact words I used were 'please don't do that, I'm too old.' But maybe I made a mistake? Gotta keep you on your toes as much as I am. The older man chuckled, adn swat his shoulder, moving to the corner to recover his wits. Carl moved off to the other corner, stretching out his frame, and looking around at the other members. Two regular guys that he'd seen in here more than once, and...a pair of ladies that he wasn't familiar with. He found his gaze lingering on them a moment more than a simple notice would have taken. There was interest there. Granted, he wasn't exactly at his best, but he grabbed a towel and mopped his brow before starting to climb out of the ring. If nothing else they were close enough to the drink machine to make an excuse for coming around.