JAN 1, 2019 - SORRY WE WERE CLOSED FOR 2 MONTHS - SOME BAD CODE AND THEN HECTIC HOLIDAY LIFE HAPPENED. WE ARE THRILLED TO FLICK THE LIGHTS BACK ON AND COLLABORATE AGAIN! LOOK FOR SOME ADDITIONAL CHANGES/UPDATES COMING TO THE SITE SOON!! ~ZEPH
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January 21, 2021 - 2am @Thomas Gallo This isn't a good idea Gaspari… The frown knitted down hard as the dark Italian gaze flicked to Tom and then back to the head of Bakkhos. Arms were tightly folded over his chest as he leaned against the front of the bar eyeing Gaspari as the older man sat in the leather chair with his glass of whiskey resting on the arm. What the hell was he thinking! We 'ave a million clauses signin' away that the death of fighters aint our fault for a reason. We have no idea if both fighters would even walk out of the ring openin' night!.... hell dunno if ANY fighter walk outta first fight! Hands threw up in the air in frustration. And what if he accidently kills the opponent? Then we are the bad guys… and if he loses on the openin' night??..... the "champion" o' Bakkhos defeated by a street fighter? Then what happens with our rep? Geez Boss… this is just a recipe for disaster. This was NOT what he had expected when he got the 1am call dragging his ass out from between a pair of extra long gams attached to one hell of a tight ass, a fact not apparent in his appearance as the slacks hung neat on his hips, the leather bomber still over his gray turtleneck, gun flashed as he gestured his frustration. Gaspari wanted to bill Tom as the Bakkhos champion and toss him out as the "fighter to beat" on opening night, help drum up business. The head of Bakkhos never did anything rash but damn if this didn't feel like a wild throw. Yet there the guy sat…smirking at the Senior Capo's complaint as he sipped his whiskey. The dark eyes met Tom's with a "come on…back me up here" expression.
Satyr Stadium - August 28th - 4pm @Thomas (Tom) Gallo Delay….after delay……after fucking delay. Head hit the wall gently as he stood in the large office trying to stay awake. He had been up for three days trying to make the September first grand opening. It had been one nightmare delay after another. First the sewer backed up into the public restrooms, then the southern stadium that had required the most repair after the Nevus event developed a major crack in the foundation that had to be reconstructed. Then the first cage had blown up in a mild field test requiring it to be fully rebuilt. Then the damn city government refused to pass the cage until it was "properly" tested. Which wasn’t a "bad" thing in the end as it revealed the damn thing would fail in an all out altered battle and put the audience at danger. That had led to a week of re-engineering and hired magic users crawling all over his stadium to rebuild the cage. Then it still didn’t get clearance until he agreed to remove the lower seating rows and encased the first cage with a second safety cage. Joey had snuck into the doorway so quietly he had almost missed him, brow quirked up at the sheepish expression the lycanthrope was wearing. Wha'? NPC:…um…. so Gray's dry run last night…. Yeeeah..? Eyes narrowed slightly not liking the hesitation in the guys voice. The dry run he had not authorized… the one where she just showed up at the stadium at 2am and somehow sweet talked the head of security then lit the sound system up like a beacon to another fucking dimension. Derrick had come back from Egypt just… pissed. He had almost crossed her about the attitude but a single look from Gaspari had told him to back the fuck off. Something was up with the head of Bakkhos' guard dog and the head would have no one looking at her wrong at the moment. Wasn’t like he disliked the woman. Hell she had saved their asses on too many occasions to count. But something about her since that trip felt feral… on the edge of out of control. NPC: …ya…well….. the session sort of… blew out the in stadium speakers of the north section. Head hit the wall again as the laugh came out with a bit more hysterical edge than intended. Of course it did. Hands rubbed over his features as his head hit the wall a bit harder, peek over at Joey warning that the man was wondering if he was losing his mind. This time the chuckle sounded more like the Capo's usual self. Ok, Joey. Let's get the engineerin' crew out here to fix 'em. Tell 'em we gotta amp up the intensity they can withstand. Rewire 'em… replace 'em… don’t give a shit but they need to handle….more. NPC: Boss? Trust me on this one. What she intends to play will…..just…. they need to handle more. He had come to investigate the silent alarm she missed disarming and when he got there… it had been earth shattering to listen to. He always knew she could really play but this had been…. a whole new level. Old school metal, rock at an intensity and skill that put the original artists to shame. Unlike the sultry sound she elicited in Bakkhos, this had been the kind of music to whip a crowd at a cage fight into an absolute frenzy. He wasn’t entirely sure the damn place would be left standing after the fucking opening number let alone the actual match. One more thing to fix before they opened in TWO days. 'ey Joey…. Tom was still on for delivery tonight right? NPC: Far as I know he was. At 5. 'kay….thanks. As Joey headed out to make the calls, he walked to the massive wall of windows that overlooked the stadium. It was the best view of the massive caged arena. The office was on the upper ring, above the private boxes, a luxury suite that had been converted with bullet proof glass and a steel door to ensure security. He preferred to be in the fray with his people, the office was more for when Gaspari or the other Bosses were there, but it had come in handy the last few days for naps between overseeing stocking, construction and the never ending minutia of preparations.