Butcher

[Administrator]

Need some meat? You're gonna pay for that steak aren't you?

[Fighter Mallory]

*NEW DAY*

Fighter walked into the butcher's shop absentmindedly fingering the money in her pocket. She'd had a bit of luck at the boxing ring and figured it'd be better spent on some meat for the next few days then on the drugs she'd been partaking in recently. Her stomach had also started burning at the mere thought of alcohol so she'd begun avoiding the bar over the past week.

She glanced around at the other patrons of the store but didn't pay them much mind other then that. She knew she was receiving odd looks but it didn't faze her. Fight knew that most kids her age, with her appearance, didn't have the money to spend in a place like that. Normally she wouldn't either but thankfully she could at this moment at least. Fighter tapped her foot as she waited for the butcher to ask her what she needed.

[Logan Doyle]

Logan Doyle stood against the back wall of the Butcher shop--opposite the counter, watching everyone come and go, smoking a cigarette taking a break from doing rounds. He knew he probably shouldn't be smoking inside but he didn't care and anyone who knew him--the butcher included--would never say anything to him. Especially since the butcher was a regular customer of his and would want to stay in his good graces.

Doyle inhaled the last of his cigarette and stubbed the remaining bit out on the bottom of his shoe. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared out the window. The tinkling of the bell above the door and the breeze that followed drew his gaze to the door. The girl who walked inside looked nothing like the customers he had seen today.

The kids who walked the streets of the city selling their 'papes' as they called it, didn't often frequent places like this as the items inside were quite costly. So, to see a girl such as this-- who looked like she probably didn't have two dimes to rub together let alone a place to cook any meat she could buy here--entering the butcher, caught his attention and raised his curiosity. Doyle watched her for a few minutes as she waited impatiently for the butcher, tapping her foot.

As Doyle took in the girls appearance, she started to look familiar but he just couldn't place where he had seen her. The places he frequented or ran didn't often get too many women as customers or patrons. Most of the women in those places worked and none of them looked like this girl. Doyle pushed himself off the back wall and walked up towards the counter like he was waiting as well, and stood beside the girl.

Doyle glanced at her out of the corner of his eye for a few minutes trying to place where he had seen her face before. Recognition hit as he recalled one of the fights he helped organize. How could he forget her?! He was amazed when she first came forward wanting to fight and wouldn't let up until they had let her. Then, when she stepped in the ring and won, well he promised himself that was one dame he wouldn't forget. Doyle turned his head towards the girl and smiling his most charming smile greeted in his Irish accent, "Hey there. Those are some wicked fists you got. Never seen a dame that good at fisticuffs b'fore. I wanted to tell you but you ran off as soon as you collected your winnings... I'm impressed."

[Fighter Mallory]

When someone sidled up next to Fighter, she chose to ignore them. She figured they just wanted to look down their nose at her up close like everyone else in the shop was doing. Crossing her arms, she continued to wait impatiently for the butcher to finally take notice of her and ask her what she was there for. If he didn't acknowledge her shortly he was going to lose out on a customer and she was going to spend her money at McGinty's instead.

When the guy next to her spoke, she tilted her head to the side to study him before speaking. She looked him over for a moment, trying to size up how sincere he was being before offering a shrug in response. "Think you got the wrong girl, mister." She wasn't sure exactly what he was talking about. She'd been in plenty of fights before but she didn't remember him ever being a witness to one and she certainly hadn't collected any winnings.

With a slight frown, she thought about the most recent fight she'd had at the boxing ring with some jackass trying to tell her she was better suited to be sewing then betting on fights, she'd decked him pretty good and she had won the bet so maybe that's what he was talking about. A slow smirk crossed her face at the memory, she'd broken the guys nose. "Then again if you're talkin' bout the gents nose I broke at the boxing ring maybe you do have the right girl. Can't say I know why you're impressed though, not like it was all that hard."

Being raised by a prize fighter made fighting a lot easier for her then it did other girls her age. With the exception of most of her friends, girls just didn't know how to defend themselves. But her uncle had taught her to fight the moment she'd landed on his doorstep. He'd known the evils of the city and didn't want her to fall victim to them.