The Boston Brawler's (Open)

The Boston Brawlers; a local night pub, which held MMA fights in a cage centering the bar area. Typically, the consumers get drunk and throw money/change into the cage as the fighter's go at it. The better the fight, the more blood, the more money the customers dropped. Simple. Perfect cash solution for someone who didn't need to worry about sustaining serious injury.

WHACK!--BAM!!--THUD!

The boy dropped to the floor and then gripped the cage wall as blood trickled from his nose and one of the alcoholics ranting at him through the cage spit in his face. "Get back in the FIGHT you FREAK!" The teen looked at him with piercing yellow eyes as his pale gray skin glinted in the lighting overhead and his toned body frame flexed to brace for the stomps being delivered to his backside from his opponent.

JaK Sage was the boys name, and he had won 9 out of his last 10 bouts. One he was forced to take a dive for more pay and this time he was supposed to as well. The people ate it up though, he wasn't too much too look at compared to the burly men he was facing, but boy did he just keep coming back for more. However, that spit in his face, had just made this personal and now his temper was about to make this interesting, but still rather uneventful night, take a turn that would lead to another string of unexpected occurrences for the duration of the evening.

After delivering some more punishment the man picked JaK up, astonished that bruises he had given the boy earlier had already disappeared and attempted to slam him against the cage, but JaK blocked the throw with his foot by placing it in between them and the cage wall. Then delivered two hard elbows to his ribcage and ran up the cage while holding his arm, twisting it, and backflipped off twerking his opponent's limb nearly clean out of it's socket. The burly guy screamed in agony, before JaK spun him around and threw him into the cage wall closest to the guy who had spit on him. Then ran and drop kicked him out of the arena and into that specific spectator with a loud battle cry. Afterwards the crowd went silent. JaK exited staggering a bit, but then started to walk upright before he sat down at the bar.

"Ginger ale, please." The club owner then signaled the security to converge on him as the bartender handed him his non-alcoholic beverage and the crowed cheered. JaK was supposed to have thrown that fight and now this punk needed to learn what happened when you backed out of agreements.

JaK kept walking for a second and then glared at her before looking away again. "What do you think you were doing back there, huh? That wasn't your fight. It was mine and you revealed yourself as a meta or whatever the heck it is you are." JaK said in an aggravated tone, obviously not used to random acts of kindness without a stipulation attached to it. "Still, you weren't half bad for a runt. Yang was it?" JaK couldn't help but smirk.

JaK stopped and looked at her with a raised eyebrow followed by a questionable expression. "Really? You trust me that much, huh?" He hesitated a little bit more then got on the back of her bike. "Alright, just know I'm known to attract trouble. Hope you're up for that." A devious smirk crossed his face at that point, as if testing her to see if she really thought helping someone like him was really worth the trouble.