This is for adding a Search Category to the thread.
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After dissipating through the crowd the Ravager materialized in front of the huge African American, he seemed to be the one in charge of collecting the bets’ money.
She spared a smile to his company, the petite woman with fiery hair.
”Evening!” She interjected, waiting for a moment so as not to intrude to abruptly.
”So… what are the odds tonight?” The songstress asked with curiosity.
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The giant bouncer looked around at Velma as she spoke and couldn't help himself.
"Goddamn!" Swilla exclaimed as he took in the full package of the woman before him, momentarily forgetting all about Terri. Her voice, her looks, her powerful demeanour. If he was a careless man, he would already have asked for her number.
But you don't survive in this world by being careless.
Swilla scratched his beard. "Depends. Who're ya bettin' on, gorgeous?"
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Velma opened wide her big blue eyes. There was a soft giggle that she immediately took the effort of stopping as she regained composure.
”Oh, sorry.” She look to the cage were Dillon was having his match.
”Dillon.” The waifish songstress informs by pointing to the Savage that was fighting the huge Japanese sumo.
”You know if he is any good?” She asks with passing curiosity.
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"Laters, Terri."
Now, Swilla turned his full attention to Velma although not before checking out who she was talking about.
"Dillon? Pretty boy over there?" He scratched his bearded chin again, obviously thinking. "Nah, don't know the sumo but I'll give you 3-1 on him squashing your boy, how's tha' sound?"
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Seeing the betting open, Asa meandered over, listening to the brackets.
He, of course, knew better than anyone that Velma was making a safe bet. But, he also knew that Dillon Connery was not one who would risk a Breach. Which was a factor, of course, when you wanted to bet the entire bout.
"When you get a moment, what are the odds on the pretty little girl in white? For the title."
He gestured at Alison Yates, just to make it clear. She was, after all, the only one he'd noticed that had come prepared. And if he could get a more favorable set of odds by calling her 'little girl'? Well, that's how the game was played.
Crowley struggled through the press, closing on the giant bookie with a wicked gleam in his eye. So far, his hands had not strayed to his wallet but that was about to change. Fingers flexed in anticipation.
When he reached the front of the que (and when the charismatic dude with the all powerful charisma had done his business), he made his bets with a certain dramatic flare. The mania was upon him (he'd forgotten how good it felt) and he knew it would take a lot of resolve to not jump into the fighting then and there. Betting was a lesser, weaker, kind of pleasure.
"I'll put $100 on Striker and on that Jonokuchi guy!" He flashed a crazed grin and placed down the green with one hand while he used the other to point out his champions.
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"Oh! 3 to 1?" Velma did some quick math… ok not really!
"Sounds like I’m going to get rich tonight!" There is this light chuckle.
With a quick gesture of her hands she produces a sum of hundredth Dollar bills from somewhere. "One K on the pretty boy then…"
And she hands the clip with ten bills to the huge man.
The Succubus notices Asa approaching her and Big Swilla, when she hears his bet she simply comments.
”That little girl over there?” The songstress turns her head to Alison’s cage.
”Pretty boy will beat little girl any day…” She says shaking her head as if it was the most obvious revelation of the night
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"We'll see," Swill grinned, showing way too many white teeth as he gladly took Velma's money and writing her a ticket. They just kept on going in his skull....
"Biker chick? Ya sure man?" Swilla done some calculations, which took a full 5 seconds. More beard scratching. It sounded really wiry in there. He held up a splayed hand. "Aight, five-to-one. Wanna take it?"
Finally, as Crowley made his offer, Swilla shrugged. "Man, ya got bills t'burn? 1-2 on, wha'cha call 'im? Jono-thingy? As for One-Arm...."
Scratch-scratch.
"Ten-to-one."
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"Five to one? For the title? I ought to get five to one per bout and and twenty on the title!" Asa laughed, protesting good-naturedly.
"Five it is, then. Five at five on 'biker chick'."
Asa offered over two neatly banded packs of twenties, marked $2000, and a single pack of tens, marked $1000. When you worked in the club industry, bills came small. More to the point, when you spent them illicitly, it was always appreciated when offered in easy-to-spend denominations.
He grinned at Velma.
"Maybe. Maybe not. Care to make a side wager?"
Was he capable? Asa Clarke did not doubt it. Was he willing? After all, Dillon was a southern gentleman.
He had a hard time picturing the man knocking the teeth out of a Kine girl just for the sake of pride.
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"Hey man, brutha's gotta eat, righ'?" Swilla grinned at the charismatic guy's protesting. When he produced the bills, the bouncer nodded, serious and back to business as he scribbled down Asa's bet before exchanging.
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