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vyttor
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Mar 27, 2011
Elvis licked happily at his owner's hand before going to his just served meal. The ferocious looking pitbull was well trained and had much love for Thomas and he in turn greatly enjoyed the company in his condo. It wasn't such a small place and Thomas didn't get many visits.
Just as the dog went to his plate, Thomas throw his own muscled body to the ground and started his morning workout. He usually pumped it hard, which was part of keeping his body trim and ready for the fights, but today, perhaps unconsciously, he held back, mostly warming up and not breaking a full sweat. His skin barely glistened with small droplets as he pondered upon his situation. Ryan, his agent, had come up with a solution about which he wasn't quite sure.
Ryan had insisted that he went to this great master he had heard about. This guy was supposed to have some amazing techniques that still hadn't been brought to the MMA scene, it could work not only as a surprise effect for Thomas but also as publicity. "Hell, man, if you just go there I can work publicity on it and your rates will go up again!" Ryan knew about this stuff. He had been a fighter himself a few years before, and had taken Thomas under his wing when he came out as a great promise at age 22, with the styles he had mixed since his early teens. Now, two years later, that promise hadn't been delivered. He had made his way to the top game, but couldn't beat the champions. His last 3 fights had been decided by the judges, none on his favor. Public was slowly turning away from him.
The warm shower was what brought a decision to his mind. He looked himself in the mirror as the water trailed down his skin. An imposing figure he was, standing at 1,88m with 92kg of pure muscle trained to fight for years non-stop. His dark hair razed a few milimeters short, his clean shaven square manly face with the Italian nose, the six-pack in his abs, the broad shoulders, it all impressed men and women alike, arousing fear in his peers and desire in his girls. Even his legs were thick and strongs, setting him apart from most fighters. His arms bulged as he ran his powerful hands through his head and decided he would go. He could back in the middle if the guy didn't gain his confidence, and Ryan would probably be able to make even more publicity out of it. Yeah, man, let's turn these tables.
With that in mind Thomas Solfatti arrived at the old shack in a bad neighborhood just as the adress had pointed out. Well, this guy doesn't seem to make much of a living for such a great master... but at least his skills let him survive in this environment. A couple of bad looking youngsters looked fiercely at him from the other side of the street, but they didn't quite have the courage to step up to him. The sleeveless shirt he wore showed the size of his arms as he carried his bag in one shoulder, ready to knock on the door.
Just as the dog went to his plate, Thomas throw his own muscled body to the ground and started his morning workout. He usually pumped it hard, which was part of keeping his body trim and ready for the fights, but today, perhaps unconsciously, he held back, mostly warming up and not breaking a full sweat. His skin barely glistened with small droplets as he pondered upon his situation. Ryan, his agent, had come up with a solution about which he wasn't quite sure.
Ryan had insisted that he went to this great master he had heard about. This guy was supposed to have some amazing techniques that still hadn't been brought to the MMA scene, it could work not only as a surprise effect for Thomas but also as publicity. "Hell, man, if you just go there I can work publicity on it and your rates will go up again!" Ryan knew about this stuff. He had been a fighter himself a few years before, and had taken Thomas under his wing when he came out as a great promise at age 22, with the styles he had mixed since his early teens. Now, two years later, that promise hadn't been delivered. He had made his way to the top game, but couldn't beat the champions. His last 3 fights had been decided by the judges, none on his favor. Public was slowly turning away from him.
The warm shower was what brought a decision to his mind. He looked himself in the mirror as the water trailed down his skin. An imposing figure he was, standing at 1,88m with 92kg of pure muscle trained to fight for years non-stop. His dark hair razed a few milimeters short, his clean shaven square manly face with the Italian nose, the six-pack in his abs, the broad shoulders, it all impressed men and women alike, arousing fear in his peers and desire in his girls. Even his legs were thick and strongs, setting him apart from most fighters. His arms bulged as he ran his powerful hands through his head and decided he would go. He could back in the middle if the guy didn't gain his confidence, and Ryan would probably be able to make even more publicity out of it. Yeah, man, let's turn these tables.
With that in mind Thomas Solfatti arrived at the old shack in a bad neighborhood just as the adress had pointed out. Well, this guy doesn't seem to make much of a living for such a great master... but at least his skills let him survive in this environment. A couple of bad looking youngsters looked fiercely at him from the other side of the street, but they didn't quite have the courage to step up to him. The sleeveless shirt he wore showed the size of his arms as he carried his bag in one shoulder, ready to knock on the door.