- Messages
- 23
- Character Biography
- Link
Everyone knew that Prati’s restaurant and deli, The Great Impasta, was the only way to enter the underground spell-boxing fight club beneath the cobbles of Elbion. Of course, after Drakomir, it had been destroyed. Things had fallen on other things and the large cavern had been expected to be lost forever. Prati, of course, denied that there was any sort of gambling going on beneath his humble deli. He denied even more that he had coached some of the greatest spell-boxers known in the modern time.
After the horror that was Drakomir, there was no way to even prove it, unless one liked to pointed out how much magical residue seemed to be in the foundation and that it seemed strange for Prati to have such a large underground meat cellar. It was all but rumor now of these mysterious spell boxing fights that had garnered just enough attention to perhaps inspire young teenage boys with too much energy and not enough patience to sit still in class.
It just so happened that Gabriel had passed by the new and improved The Great Impasta 2, celebrating their re-opening after a long reconstruction period. He paused when he saw the familiar sign, a angry spaghetti monster wearing a white chef’s hat and red boxing gloves, and looked into the window. Yep, just like before, there was hardly anyone inside. No one really came to Prati’s deli for one of his wet sandwiches, although Gabriel found nothing really invigorated him after a good workout like a classic sub with extra sauce and pickled banana peppers.
There were two old men, holding up newspapers as they sat at a small round table in the corner, each with their own espresso cups and a plate of crumbly almond cookies between them. At the counter stood Prati’s youngest son, Bruno, who still seemed to be struggling with his acne. He was in his butcher garb, leaning over the glass countertop and most likely daydreaming about some girl who had caught his fancy but wouldn’t ever give him the time of day.
Gabriel, perhaps against his better judgement, entered the store, a small bell chiming his arrival. The old men didn’t look over but Bruno did. His dark eyes widened, eyebrows raising up high.
“Gabe.” He said.
“What’s up, Armrest?” Gabriel greeted with a wry grin. Bruno had finally got his growth spurt and now had a inch on him. Still as skinny as a green bean. Maybe another year or two and he’d fill out much like his father had. Although, according to Prati, Bruno had two left feet and couldn’t pivot while punching to save his life. “Long time no see.” Bruno glanced to the old men and leaned over the counter further, gesturing for Gabriel to come closer.
“Dad’s… yanno. Downstairs in the cellar. You seen it yet?” Gabriel shook his head, his gut dropping. “He still talks about you.” Now the guilt really came in. Prati was like a second father, or maybe that loud Uncle that liked his wine too much but stuck by his family no matter what. “If you don’t have the time, I could tell you came by.” Bruno’s voice softened. Gabriel hated that his face showed his every emotion, even when he tried to mask it.
“Naw, I’m going down to say hi to him myself.” Gabriel gave a lazy wave to Bruno.
“Well, you already know the way.” And that Gabriel did, going to where the bathrooms were located down a uncomfortably skinny hallway. The storage closet said staff only but Gabriel went inside anyways. Moving past the shelves of miscellaneous items, he came to another door. A bigger, steel door. One needed magic to open it, or someone who had magic. He gripped the handle, channeling his arcane gifts with ease. The door opened up like it weighed nothing more than cheap balsa wood. A set of stairs, descending into a cool darkness. Arcane lights turned on, greeting Gabriel with their familiar blue and green glow.
It had been years since Gabriel walked down steps like these. He took the first step, then another. Before he knew it, he was quickly descending down the staircase, hearing the door shut behind him.
After the horror that was Drakomir, there was no way to even prove it, unless one liked to pointed out how much magical residue seemed to be in the foundation and that it seemed strange for Prati to have such a large underground meat cellar. It was all but rumor now of these mysterious spell boxing fights that had garnered just enough attention to perhaps inspire young teenage boys with too much energy and not enough patience to sit still in class.
It just so happened that Gabriel had passed by the new and improved The Great Impasta 2, celebrating their re-opening after a long reconstruction period. He paused when he saw the familiar sign, a angry spaghetti monster wearing a white chef’s hat and red boxing gloves, and looked into the window. Yep, just like before, there was hardly anyone inside. No one really came to Prati’s deli for one of his wet sandwiches, although Gabriel found nothing really invigorated him after a good workout like a classic sub with extra sauce and pickled banana peppers.
There were two old men, holding up newspapers as they sat at a small round table in the corner, each with their own espresso cups and a plate of crumbly almond cookies between them. At the counter stood Prati’s youngest son, Bruno, who still seemed to be struggling with his acne. He was in his butcher garb, leaning over the glass countertop and most likely daydreaming about some girl who had caught his fancy but wouldn’t ever give him the time of day.
Gabriel, perhaps against his better judgement, entered the store, a small bell chiming his arrival. The old men didn’t look over but Bruno did. His dark eyes widened, eyebrows raising up high.
“Gabe.” He said.
“What’s up, Armrest?” Gabriel greeted with a wry grin. Bruno had finally got his growth spurt and now had a inch on him. Still as skinny as a green bean. Maybe another year or two and he’d fill out much like his father had. Although, according to Prati, Bruno had two left feet and couldn’t pivot while punching to save his life. “Long time no see.” Bruno glanced to the old men and leaned over the counter further, gesturing for Gabriel to come closer.
“Dad’s… yanno. Downstairs in the cellar. You seen it yet?” Gabriel shook his head, his gut dropping. “He still talks about you.” Now the guilt really came in. Prati was like a second father, or maybe that loud Uncle that liked his wine too much but stuck by his family no matter what. “If you don’t have the time, I could tell you came by.” Bruno’s voice softened. Gabriel hated that his face showed his every emotion, even when he tried to mask it.
“Naw, I’m going down to say hi to him myself.” Gabriel gave a lazy wave to Bruno.
“Well, you already know the way.” And that Gabriel did, going to where the bathrooms were located down a uncomfortably skinny hallway. The storage closet said staff only but Gabriel went inside anyways. Moving past the shelves of miscellaneous items, he came to another door. A bigger, steel door. One needed magic to open it, or someone who had magic. He gripped the handle, channeling his arcane gifts with ease. The door opened up like it weighed nothing more than cheap balsa wood. A set of stairs, descending into a cool darkness. Arcane lights turned on, greeting Gabriel with their familiar blue and green glow.
It had been years since Gabriel walked down steps like these. He took the first step, then another. Before he knew it, he was quickly descending down the staircase, hearing the door shut behind him.
