Post by Sanford Cunningham on Sept 7, 2009 3:46:30 GMT -5
///// Sanford Cunningham
miami, florida
chapter one: loyalty
The Blue Ring.
This was one of Sanford's own little projects, and for so many reasons, it brought Sanford out of his shell when most social events did not. It was here he had always been able to shine, but these days, he was more of the host. After all, he'd climbed the ranks long ago, was undefeated for some time and... the challengers stopped knocking on his door.
To be fair, people could die in a sport such as this, and it was understood when a fighter went too far and took someone out. People in the pit were there for a reason. Either they wanted to be, or they had no choice. Sanford was different. He felt at home there, because unlike most people, pain, to him... didn't register as unpleasant. Fighting was no different than any other game, and it was one he was good at... especially with his talent. Even still, he was never overly cruel against his opponents, unless of course it was personal... well, then he was. Either way... he never lost. It seemed the closer a fighter would come to taking Sanford down, the worse he'd hurt them with his staple coup de grace.
Without any challengers, it seemed natural for him to take charge of the ring himself.
The matches were also a chance for him to come to the fore and shine socially, which he also enjoyed. He wasn't typically a man for attention, and in general, made very little noise compared to the other bosses. He was often the quiet one, and often kept out of bickering, but as a general rule, always remained fairly indifferent to any situation not directly involving himself. It had been a smart way to protect himself in a vicious underground world. Here, however, it was his house, his show... and he was uncharacteristically excited in a place where he had many memories of the fights, where he and the ring would become a thing of beauty.
Tonight was a special night, and it was certainly no exception. He had sent invitations to the other members of The Six, the elite of The Collective. Their alliance was the core of the group, it's nucleus, it's mind. In many ways, their varying personalities kept each other in-check, in a sort of balance.
Several matches had gone about already, but they were minor things. Just some scraps. The real fights were coming, and he hoped all of his invitations would be answered. He'd called for all of The Six. He had one, so far. Isaac was sitting with him in his raised room, which gave a unique view over the cage and allow his voice to boom to the crowd. For now, Sanford was quiet, preparing himself for the show.
