Qīyuè 3rd 250X

Prasong lashed out his fist at JJ's face, extending his fingers and swiping his nails dangerously close to JJ’s nose. The larger boy swore and jumped back just in time.

"Surely this is an unfair fight?" JJ exclaimed to a large albino boy who was standing just outside the ring. The boy chuckled, shaking his head and wiping his own sweat covered face on a grubby looking towel.

"Why? Because I'm a helixed?" Prasong laughed, pouting his lips and easily dodging JJ's subsequent side-swipe.

"Yes because you're a helixed!" JJ shouted indignantly as he attempted to lunge forwards again. "Otherwise I'd be able to beat you."

"You sure about that?" Prasong snorted, stepping backwards as the other boy called for time out. "I'm not exactly super-powered here."

"You've got heightened senses and half the time it feels like you already know exactly what I'm going to do!" JJ moaned, slumping back against the fraying yellow ropes of the ring. Prasong rolled his eyes as he caught the bottle of water the albino boy chucked to him. "It's only because you're so predictable JJ."

"How come I can beat nearly all of the other trainee fighters then?" JJ asked with an exasperated gesture.

"You can't beat me," the albino boy grunted, gesturing for them both to come down from the raised ring. "That's true," Prasong nodded with a mock serious expression, "you can't beat Tris either and there's no rings round his eyes."

"Tris has been training for a year," JJ sniped back, "we've been here five months."

Tris shrugged uninterestedly before pointing at Prasong, "That was good Little Doll, scary quick - but you need to work on your stamina and core strength. JJ - you need to find a way to control your movements more accurately when you're in the ring. You're too damn scrappy."

JJ padded over to the far ropes, leaning against them heavily before sliding under and landing on the concrete floor of the training gym. He grabbed at the bottle of nutrient juice that Tris was proffering. "You're starting to sound like Dane," he muttered, before unscrewing the cap and gulping it down thirstily.

Dane was their trainer, a stocky, scarred man who used to be one of Bobik's prize fighters. The lifespan of an illegal fighter was often shorter than that of a street kid and retirement was an option possible for only a very successful select few.

Most of those who did survive to later life subsequently went on to become trainers for their affiliated gangs. There were currently only a handful of active fighters belonging to the Vostoko gang, Tris being one of them.

The older boy was tall and heavy set with white, pigment-free skin. His hair was closely shorn and was a pale peachy colour, the same as his eyebrows which framed his widely spaced brown eyes. A noticeably stark Guild tattoo sat above his current Vostoko gang mark.

Tris had told Prasong and JJ that he used to be a smuggler for one of the underground medical Guilds - helping to transport illegally procured substances and the occasional cadaver across the city. People didn't normally leave the Guilds but Tris had explained that Bobik paid his Guild master a high price in order to train him up as a fighter.

That had been after Bobik witnessed Tris take out two armed police officers in a street brawl one night. Tris was definitely in the right place in the fighting rings and he had proven himself time and time again in the numerous tournaments that the gang boss orchestrated.

"Don't sweat it JJ - you'll get there," Tris nodded, "when you're in the ring for real and you realise it's the only thing that's going to keep you from getting your throat ripped out."

"Thanks," JJ replied drily, handing back the empty juice bottle, "that's super reassuring."