|RP Log 2: At the races
||[Oct. 2nd, 2006|11:36 pm]
(Open to anyone) |
"AND THEY'RE OFF!"
A shot fired through the air and the gates swung open, the eight race dogs shooting out of their confinements like jets. The dogs were well trained, if not extremely hyped up on steroids, making the race a close one.
But every spectator knew who was going to win.
The same dog that always one. Number thirty-two. Hindsight Twenty Twenty.
As the dogs sped around the track, green eyes followed the animals, noting the way the usual winner took the lead in the last stretch, the female canine pushing herself.
It was what the dogs were meant to do. It was sad but it was life in the underground.
Axel pushed away from the railing he had been leaning out, pulling a small black book out of his jacket's pocket, thumbing through the pages. He'd actually gotten quite a few people that bet against number thirty-two, which meant a promising cut for him.
Now he just had to find the bastards that had placed bets.
Snapping the book shut, Axel tucked it back into his pocket and headed for the suites, knowing that all his usual cilental were there. He weaved through the crowd with a practiced skill, knowing how to avoid brushing up against people. He really did not feel like loosing anything else to pick pockets.
Grabbing the railing and jerking himself up the steps, he took them two by two, when he could, making for the main walkway that lined the track. The suites were just an elevator ride from there.