Better Choices [Jonathan]

[Jonathon Montoya]

"Uh...thanks, I guess." Jonathon said, putting a hand to his mouth. He took it away and noticed it was stained red. "Damn, he hits hard. And did he have to be such a jerk about winning?" He wiped the blood from his hand and looked at the boos. "I appreciate you not just throwing me to the mob to get torn apart. He may have hit hard, but I came out fairly unscathed. Still got all my teeth and the swelling should go down soon." Poking his cheek as he said so, it was sore, but it wasn't unbearable. "I'm Jonathon by the way." He said, offering his hand.

[Vice Ysal]

"He's really just like that yo. Cho's not a jerk, but you gotta admit that you got your ass beat."

Vice shrugged as he led the new kid towards some of the bleachers so that they could get a better view of the up and coming fights. Who knew, the guy might even become one of the more frequent regulars who actually knew what he was doing. Leaning against one of the bigger crates, his top protecting him from the dastardly splinters, Vice just nodded his head at the things that Jonathon had began saying.

"We've got a few ice packs by the cooler, might help with the swelling unless you wanna tough that out like a real man."

Vice added, a flippantly amused tone bleeding into his voice as he saw Jonathon offer a hand to shake. Vice looked down at the offered hand and then back to Jonathon's serious face. He tried really hard to stop it, but alas humour fled out from his voice as the red eyed male blurted out a laugh.

"Damn! Ahah, you're too polite yo. Right time and right place for everything. Politeness ain't got a place here in the club."

So instead of accepting the offered hand, Vice raised his own and offered Jonathon a fist bump instead.

"This is how we doing things over here, 'Nate. Name's Vice."

[Jonathon Montoya]

Jonathon nodded, he didn't really want an ice pack. He knew it would help the swelling, but he also feared that it might show weakness to the fight club. So he passed on the ice pack. "Uh...ok..." Jonathon said to Vice's reaction to the hand shake. Punching Vice in the knuckles he took a seat on the bleachers. "So...is this all you do? Sit here and let people fight?" It really confused Jonathon, seeing as so many people were just drudging along without realizing how dire the situation was. "I mean, don't you worry about the sha...the soldiers." Jonathon caught himself, not sure if Vice knew about shadows yet or not.

[Vice Ysal]

"Good choice not getting the ice pack. I would've socked you if you tried pussying out on the injury."

Vice commented as they finished the initial fist bump to acknowledge that no, Jonathon was not a totally limp wristed guy.

"As fun as that sounds, 'Nate, I do have a couple of things to take care of outside the fight club. Like work for example, and finding a way to contact my folks who are abroad and all. We're not just a bunch of junkies here, or delinquents since you look like you're still in high school. We've all got our own things to take care of and this helps with taking the edge off cause responsibilities does hit like a crazy bitch when you're done studying."

Vice shrugged as he watched the other members of the club get ready for fighting again. While he had spoken though, he was pretty sure that Nate was going to say something before Soldiers and having actually experienced what's been happening outside the inner city, decided to not push further on that idea for the time being.

"The soldiers, well, they do their jobs and we'll do ours. Upstanding citizens and all."

Shrugging his shoulders at that, Vice checked his smart phone and unlocked the gizmo again. Handing it over to Jonathon with the contacts list already waiting for him to input the information, Vice pretty much shrugged at the expression the younger kid was gonna show.

"I'm pretty sure that you'll be visiting the Fight Club pretty often now that you've seen it. You're not an accepted member just yet so you'll be needing a confirmation code for when the time comes. I'll message it to you, sure, but you're gonna need to give me your contact information and all."

[Jonathon Montoya]

"Oh..." Jonathon said as Vice explained what else he did. He felt bad that he couldn't say that Vice's family might not be around anymore. The fog went on for mile and could have very well covered everything. While Jonathon wasn't sure if people could survive out there, he had yet to see anyone alive in the fog, or anything besides the shadow for that matter. He was snapped out of his sort of depressing thought by Vice asking for his contact information. "Oh, yeah, sure." He said, digging out his phone. Flipping through some menus he handed to him. "Here you go."

[Vice Ysal]

With the new contact information safely entered into his phone, and said phone now being secured within his pocket, Vice decided that it was more or less high time to leave. The following matches weren't exactly rigged, but the probability of an underdog winning was not good enough to merit him staying there to watch. Raising both of his hands into the air while going into his tip toes, the young man stretched out as far as he could and returned to place when the satisfying plopping of bones could be felt. Resting his hands back into the confines of his back pockets, the red eyed male then proceeded to make his way towards the actual exit slash entrance of the fight club.

"You can stay here for a bit longer if you want, get a feel for the place and all. Though if you speak about this place to anyone else, we regulars don't have anything against lynching you and your family. Good? Good. Have a fun day, Nate."

With the warning, death threat, and pleasantry finally over, the black haired civilian then proceeded to leave the establishment to look for his Motorcycle that had been parked somewhere. It was time to head back home and actually prepare a dinner for one. Soon enough, the people inside the abandoned warehouse would hear the roaring of an engine and the sound of wheels burning rubber that which signified Vice's disappearance from the vicinity.