Did you know this section has a character limit?
Sec reported to his fight area. Shedding the backpack, he stepped into the arena.
Sec could make nothing out about the opponent, as he was not facing him. At least, Sec believe it was a "him", it had long black hair.
The announcer stood up, and looking at the list, began to speak.
"IIIIIIIINNNNNNN DAAAAA REEEDDDD CORNAH! WE HAVE ERIC LOREN, FROM SKARO."
A small smattering of polite applause greeted him.
"AAAAAAAANNNNNNDDDD IIIIIIIIIIINNNNN DAAAAAAA BLEW CORNAH! WE HAVE TOM E. WIZZO, FROM..... UH.... HE DIDN'T SAY."
The man in the "blue corner" turned around. It was a man. His face was by no means handsome, Sec would wager that the man had at least some Neanderthal DNA present in his genetic code.
Though the most pressing question about Mr. Wizzo came out of Sec's mouth.
"Why is he wearing a tuxedo?"
Ignoring Sec, the announcer signaled the beginning of the match.
"ROOOOOOUUUUNNNNDDD WON! FAIT!"
Wizzo began walking up to Sec, hands moving in a fake martial arts pose.
"Don't tawch me mothafucka!"
"Touching you is the purpose of a fight."
Wizzo responded by throwing a punch at Sec. It was so clumsy and misaimed, Sec would'nt have contacted it even if he hadn't dodged. In response, Sec identified two weak spots on Wizzo's body left unguarded. Sec sent the edge of his hand into Wizzo's throat, which caused him the grab his throat with both hands.
Sec then sent his knee into Mr. Wizzo's reproductive organs.
Wizzo bent double, and Sec sent his knee up again, into Wizzo's face, actually breaking his nose and sending him flat on his back.
Sec then dragged Wizzo, who gave very little resistance, to the edge of the arena, and then pushed him out.
Atrocitus was called up to fight. He walked up on one of the smaller arenas taking note of Sec's fight. He looked around.
A beat.
"Where is my oppon - ?"
"HA HAAAAA!!" The Red Lantern's answer was answered when what looked like a medieval superhero cosplayer wearing a gaudy outfit consisting of red, blue, and yellow with a stylized dragon or phoenix symbol on his chest
◊leaped onto the arena in a single bound, furling a big red cape with the same crest on it.
"GREETINGS fair citizens of Truce, for it is I, the Grand Guardia Garudo, defender of the innocent, protector of the weak, and vanquisher of eveeeeeeeeeeeel!!" the wannabe spoke in a nasally voice, making dramatic poses all the while. "I have come from a long line of noble and brave knights, whom pushed back and defeated the villainous Fiends from the Great War of 600AD, courageously fighting against the monstrous horde from their very stronghold as the hero Glenn vanquish the evil Magus!! Now here I am, ancestor of one of those very same knights, ready and willing to prove my worth on the field of battle!! Though the days conquering fiends are long past, there is still a grand war afoot! The war against evil is never ending, and the from that evil takes in our modern age is CRIME!! From the lowliest of street thugs to possible international crime rings, I am to bring to all to justice with same gusto and patriotism my ancestors had in slaying the vile fiends from all those years ago! Now, watch and be amazed as I, the Grand Guardia Garudo, show to all my grand physical prowess, perfect for trouncing the forces of injustice, by demonstrating to all upon my opponent! No offense to you shady citizen, but to prove my worth I must defeat you in the field of HONOR!!! Now, steel yourself my nightshade nemesis, for you are to be the first to feel the furious fist, the ferocious feet, and the spectacular stamina, strength, and speed of the one!! The only!! The Graaaaaaaaaaaaaand!! Guaaaaaaaaaaaarida!! Gaaaaaaaaa-rudOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"
Atrocitus had completely ignored his opponent's ramblings, immediately deducing this would be an easy victory within one second of seeing this man. The Red Lantern mentally blocked out the inane talk and was instead visually analyzing his opponent, looking for a spot to hit that would defeat this imbecile safely and quickly. Despite his education initially being in psychology, the Ryutian was able to pick up and learn the trade of biology and anatomy, mostly from his tenure during the Empire of Tears and his early experiments in creating the first Red Lanterns. It would have been far quicker if the idiot would stop posing........
He finally found his chance........and pounced - *WHAM!!!!*
A single punch into the gut. All that was needed.
Atrocitus kept the fist in the gut, letting the pain and damage full register into the man's brain.
He pulled back, the wanna be superhero falling to the ground, crumpling up into a fetal position.
The opponent coughed, hacking up blood. "I surrender" he wheezed at tapping the floor and signaling his own loss. The bell rung and the announcer proclaimed the Red Lantern as the winner.
As a show of sportsmanship, Atrocitus walked over to the man, wrapped him up in his own cape, and carried him gently like a sick child out of the arena before passing him over to the nearby event medics. Other than the moderate bruising and very minor internal injuries, the Grand Guardia Garudo was perfectly fine.
DAMMIT MARK, STOP HOTTING HELPY!!
huzzaaaaaaaah
Crocker was soon called up to a fight. He skipped towards one of the arenas, but it was only after he was inside that he realised one major flaw with his plan:
"I'm useless without my magical weapons!"
His eyes widened as he saw his opponent- a small guy, so small he didn't even reach up to Crocker's waist. The teacher laughed, pointing at his opponent, who began to slowly walk towards him:
"Hah! What are you going to do? Stomp on my feet until d—"
He was interrupted as the small guy suddenly grabbed him by the legs and began to swing him around, smashing him against the floor multiple times. The "gahs" and "oohs" that came from the teacher every time he hit the ground made the crowd flinch. He was thrown around, and almost fell out of the arena. However, the teacher soon got back up, his injuries gone:
"Hm... I must find a way to destroy this little man! But how..."
A ghost appeared next to Crocker- an exact replica of him, but this time wearing a robe:
"Use the force, Crocker!"
"But I'm not a jedi! And that's infriging copyright laws!"
"No, Crocker, use the..."
The ghost pulled out a paper with a big F on it:
"FORCE!"
The teacher began to laugh as the ghost disappeared. He pointed at the little man, who was just staring at everything with a "what the fuck is wrong with this guy" look on his face:
"A-ha! You are finished, little man! I shall now defeat you with my... F-POWERS!"
He suddenly began making various karate attacks that didn't even hit the little man (who continued to just look at the situation not sure what to do). Once he noticed that he wasn't even hitting the little man, he stopped:
"This usually works! I use my F-Powers to give my students the worst grade of all... F! So I know that they'll cry, and cry, and turn their F's into A's with the help of their... FAIRY GODPARENTS!"
As expected, the teacher had a spasmic attack once he said the word "fairy godparents". However, what wasn't expected is that since the little man was so close to Crocker, at one point during his spasmic attack, the teacher sent a powerful punch right on the little man's face, and sent him flying all across the arena. The little man landed outside of the edge of the arena, little birds flying all around him. Crocker began to celebrate:
"Woo hoo! I won! That means I will have to fight more powerful enemies in the next round!"
He smiled, until he realised what he had just done:
"OH NO! I WON! THAT MEANS I WILL HAVE TO FIGHT MORE POWERFUL ENEMIES IN THE NEXT ROUND! HELP ME MOMMY!"
And almost out of nowhere, he dashed out of the arena, past the crowd, and back where all the other contestants where. He looked around and flew towards Jack, clinging himself to the teammate, sucking on his thumb like a little baby.
Jack saw Crocker wrapping himself around him and immediately yanked the poor bum right off of him.
The Chaser moved Crocker it look him straight in the eye. "Deal with your OWN problems for fuck's sake!" he told the fairy hunter. "Be a man, and grew yourself some fucking testicles, ya apeshit pansy!" Jack then lifted Crocker above his head, dropped, and finally spanked the teacher with his mechanical arm hard enough to send the idiot soaring right out of the Western Tent and back into the Eastern tent.
"Crazy ass looney tune" Jack mubled as he readjusted his jacket and walked up to the arena.
"MATCH 3 SHALL NOW BEGIN!!" the announcer said. "JACK CAYMAN! VERSUS......!! KING TAGAS!"
Entering the arena as well was a tall figure wearing a large purple cloak. After entering, he unfurled it and threw it aside for a pair of attendants, revealing a lean, well muscled body with the only pieces of clothing were bandages around his feet and hands, a pair of boxer shorts, and a head band around his bald head.
"Well you seem competent," Jack said.
The opponent merely went into battle stance.
"Strong silent type, eh?" Jack said. "Alright......." The Chaser went into his own stance. "Let's do this......"
DAMMIT MARK, STOP HOTTING HELPY!!
-Meanwhile, Da Orks suffer multiple, simultaneous and devastating setbacks, after some initial confusion when the entire team tried to get in the ring at the same time.-
-Two Gretchin are disqualified before they can even enter the ring, as there is some contention over their accessories. The diminutive orks hold that being dakka, and therefore neither a tool nor a weapon, they are allowed to carry and use them. The discussion is adjourned when a spark from Gratzlik's rokkithamma accidentally ignites the fuel tank on Grezzzlin's skorchastikk, nearly decapitating a judge and desintegrating a wall. Still protesting, they are carried off to sulk in the stands.-
-The remaining Gretchin, Gretsnik fares little better. Gretsnik almost has time to look for a place to hide before his opponent unceremoniously grabs him by the back of his grubby shirt, lifts him a foot in the air and drops him on the other side of the ring to hoots of laughter from the audience.-
-Finally, only Gundakka Bigrench is left to uphold the ork team's 'on'err. In his later years, Bigrench's opponent Barnacleez the Hunted often referred to this day as the one where he was minding his own business when a socially maladjusted tidal wave grew fists and an irrational hatred of his continued existence. The Mekboss did indeed surge forth like a seismic disturbance, pounding footsteps and bone-shaking WAAAAAAAAGH!!!cry only cementing the metaphor in the unfortunate Barnacleez' head, impacting the mercenary and sending him out of the ring and into the audience, who goes wild (save those trapped under Barnacleez' mercifully comatose body). Before the Ork can demand that the next contestant "Come on if you finks you'ze 'ard enuff, hyaahahahahahhh!!!", the bell rings and Bigrench is escorted out of the ring by large men with swords, facial scars and a stunted sense of humor.-
edited 3rd May '12 9:03:06 AM by Chabal2
Leanbow then prepared for his battle, getting off from his seat and heading into the ring, where a man in a white tuxedo was already waiting for him. Leanbow then noticed that he was smelling from a rose. He then turned to face him.
"Do you appreciate the finer moments in life before a fight?" The man said.
"No... I can't say I have." Leanbow said as he stepped into the ring.
"Well," The man said, throwing away the rose. "I do. Especially when I know my time here is running out." Leanbow raised an eye brow as the bell rung.
"LEANBOW! VS.! ROSE! FIGHT!"
Rose then ran to Leanbow, who threw him a couple of punches. Leanbow parried a couple but got hit with another. Leanbow then threw a kick at Rose. He expected him to block it, but he took it head on. Rose stumbled a bit back while coughing up a bit of blood. "I'll tell you a little something... I came to this tournament to find a person worthy of ending my life. Can you do that for me? Kill me?" Rose asked Leanbow.
"... Isn't that against the rules?" Leanbow asked.
"Screw the rules... Just... just kill me!" Rose then ran to Leanbow, his arms wide open to receive any death blow Leanbow would give him. Instead, he stepped aside, held his foot out, and caused Rose to trip out of the ring.
"I treasure life too much for me to just take one. I don't kill. Especially ones who are weak, like you. Stop seeking death, and just enjoy the finer moments of life. Isn't that what you told me?" Leanbow said as the bell rung. People clapped as the announcer said "Victory goes to the one left standing!"
The fight between Jack and Tagas was fast and furious, with Tagas delivering a flurry of hard blows that would easily deck a normal man while Jack mostly blocked and dodged, the blocking favoring with his metal arm. However, even with the blows upon the titanium appendage, the muay thai fighter was not loosing steam. Must've had some intense nerve deadening training Jack though to himself.
The one minute warning was called. Crap, gotta end this! the Chaser thought. Don't wanna end this on a judge call! Throughout the whole two minutes of the fight, Jack was desperately looking for a way to end this nonlethally, but could not find a way to do it as Tagas did not leave any real openings. Dammit, who knew trying to beat someone up and not kill them would so hard?!? he thought.
At 30 seconds remaining he realized something. Rules only said I'm not allowed to KILL him......he thought.
With that he reached up, grabbed one of Tagas' arms with his mechanical arm, and karate chopped it with his left -
*CRACK*
Tagas wailed and stumbled backwards, holding his arm. It was quite clear the fighter did not expect Jack to outright break one of his limbs. The Chaser then ran forward, and decked his opponent hard enough to him flying out of the arena onto the floor and out cold.
"Somebody get that guy some medical attention!" Jack called. "He deserves it!" The Deathwatch champion then walked out of the arena as he was announced the winner, the first victory he gained in a very long time where his quarry was still breathing.
edited 27th May '12 6:36:12 PM by UdtheImp
DAMMIT MARK, STOP HOTTING HELPY!!
(Avatar by Coffee)
Taking his plastic card out, Ratheln nodded. He figured that he had enough gold, or whatever they locals used in its stead — those quizzes were rather easy, and plentiful too.
"I'll buy it, then," he said. "I've learned a thing or two about metallurgy in my travels, and I can say this is a good weapon."
Dreams of Revenge
Axl, who had been moseying about the fair with no particular sense of purpose, was immediately drawn back to the tents as the gong was rung. Listening carefully to what he was told, he gave the person who had explained the rules to him a listless wave, feeling confident in his capability to defeat whoever he fought with.
"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen! This fight looks like it could be an interesting one - a mystery fighter versus a rising star in martial arts! But first, let's introduce our combatants. In one corner we have a man with seemingly no past, with a odd appearance and perhaps an even more odd name! The mysterious stranger, it's SIIIIGMAAAAAA!" The announcer certainly seemed to love theatrics, and the crowd definitely didn't seem to complain about his antics. There was a certain energy in the air, the sort that could only be mustered in tournaments such as these.
As the announcer spoke, Axl stepped into the arena, being the perfect sportsman as he waved and bowed to the crowd. Parts of the crowd cheered and applauded while others - probably the supporters of his opponent - jeered and heckled the transformed reploid. Taking it all in stride, he stared straight ahead at where his opponent would shortly emerge from.
"Of course, he won't be having an easy time of it! His opponent has been training himself for a long time, so don't mistake him for some starry eyed kid! If he has his way, he'll be painting the town in a certain colour after his victory! It's REEEEEEEEED!" Some of the crowd went absolutely ballistic at the announcement, while others were calmer in their reactions. Into the arena stepped a young man with a shock of auburn hair, a cocky grin on his face as he stretched in preparation for the fight.
Gee, it seems like references to my own world follow me wherever I go... thought Axl to himself. Doesn't help that he reminds me a bit of myself, too. I guess I'm just gonna have to prove to him who's the boss around here!
"So, who will win? Who will triumph over their opponent and win the adoration of those gathered here tonight? Who will be forced to return home in shame and ignominy? Will Sigma show himself to be greater than the sum of his parts? Or will Red make him see red when he claims victory? In this clash between two mighty warriors, nothing is certain, and everything is possible!" The announcer's comments seemed to only pump up the crowd even further. "But enough talk! Actions speak louder than words -"
Though he's making a good attempt to prove otherwise, thought Axl, his ears ringing from the man's bombastic speech.
" - and I think there'll be no shortage of action today! Without further ado, let the fiiiiiiiight BEGIN!"
Axl advanced toward Red, keeping an eye on him at all times. A few moments later, he lunged forward, swinging a fist at his gut. Red caught the punch, but the swing that came a moment later managed to get past his guard, forcing the young man to stumble backwards from the blow. The reploid had to admit that technique was something he was sorely lacking in, being a premier gunfighter rather than a pugilist, so he would need to make up for it in ferocity and strength. Not waiting for Red to recover, Axl aimed an uppercut at his opponent's jaw. Although he saw it coming, Red only managed to partially deflect the blow, jolting back again as Axl's fist grazed his head.
Axl took a little too long in following up his attack, however, as Red made his own assault, kicking and punching at him in an attempt to overwhelm the disguised machine. Axl reacted by deftly moving backwards, always keeping an eye on the arena boundaries as he did so. Soon, however, he found himself at the outer limit of the arena - if he moved any further back, Red would win by default. Grinning as he saw his chance, Red swung a right hook -
- and was rewarded for his efforts by Axl shifting to the right and delivering a potent kick to Red's back, sending the young man sprawling out of bounds of the arena. The crowd seemed to react favourably, and Axl grinned somewhat self-consciously.
"Aaaaaand it's over! That was short 'n' sweet, folks, but both combatants put up a good fight. Better luck next time, Red!" exclaimed the announcer, much to Red's consternation. Now that the match was over, Axl hopped out of the arena and helped his now former opponent up.
"Hey, you did pretty well," said Axl, grinning amicably. "I'm sure that with a little more practice you could go far - don't give up!"
Without waiting for a response, Axl left the area, leaving behind a somewhat uncertain Red in the process.
Locking you up on radar since '09
An honorable fight. Defeat by knockout, concession, or overstepping of boundaries. No killing. No weapons. 3 minutes.
Harp bound firmly to her back, Sheik opened her eyes and stepped into the miniature arena, having headed straight to it after the brackets had been announced. Her opponent, a good-looking, fair-headed young man with an easy-going smile on his face, entered likewise with much confidence, before stripping off his shirt to reveal a muscled, well-toned physique and limbering up. The various spectators who had come to watch this particular fight buzzed with excitement (and not a few female murmurs of appreciation) at the sight.
"That's Penn, isn't it? The guy who nearly got into the finals last year?"
"Oh, he's so cute…"
"There's no way he's going to lose to a woman…"
"Didn't you hear? She's a minstrel, apparently…"
"Oh, yeah? Well, I say there's only one place for women, and that's in the home. Though with that kind of body, I can't even imagine why she hasn't already been taken off by some filthy rich landlord or another…"
"Doesn't she look absolutely dull? And all those wrappings… ugh. Bet they're hiding some horrid deformity or something."
For her part, the Sheikah did not acknowledge the whispers, though she had heard them clear as day. Instead, she cleared her mind and focused a calm gaze on her opponent, sizing him up with a sharp, analytical eye.
Penn Teller, the listings had read. Farrier. He certainly wasn’t a slouch. Good stance, well-trained, strong and quick…
Most likely an experienced hand at tournament fighting, despite his seeming inexperience. She would make this quick, then. No need to soften her blows.
Closing her eyes, the warrior took several deep breaths, allowing her senses to attune themselves to her mind, letting her body synchronize itself with her spirit. Only then would she achieve the speed that she needed.
"What? Is she dozing off? How stupid."
"What's going on?"
After a few perfunctory glances at the parchment in his hands, the referee (a short, bald man with tiny spectacles and far too much padding) laid it aside and stepped out from behind his chair, giving each contestant a bored glance. "You know the rules," he said, before producing a small, marked hourglass from the pouch at his waist, giving it a few taps to settle the fine golden particles within. Then he walked back to his desk.
"On my mark."
Penn gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry for this, lady. Normally, I don't fight women… it's probably just bad luck that this is happening right now. Still, I'm not pulling any punches." With that, he raised his fists and fell into a fighting stance, dipping and rising slightly on the balls of his feet.
"Three," the referee announced.
Sheik opened her eyes, though she had not moved from her neutral position. “I understand,” she murmured.
"Two."
"Expect no less from me."
"One… Fight!"
The glass flipped over, and the sands began to fall.
With the goodwill and enthusiasm of the cheering crowd behind him, Penn dug his feet firmly into the floor of the tent and shot forwards, fist drawn back. Sheik went into autopilot.
Sidestep left feint. He punches. Divert right hook, slip into guard. He punches. Deflect left cross. Step back. He punches. Whirl past haymaker. Spin kick. He ducks, then punches. Dodge uppercut. Sweeping kick, unbalance left foot. He stumbles.
Opening.
Jab to chest. Jab to head. Nerve strike to neck, back-flip, handspring, flying kick to stomach.
Land.
Thirty seconds.
Struck with the full force of the attack square in his center of mass, a very disorientated, considerably battered and completely outmaneuvered farrier flew clean out of the ring, landing in an indecorous heap on the floor several feet away from the unusually quiet audience. Stunned, mostly. No-one said a word.
Looking up for a brief moment, the referee checked the hourglass, turned it back around and made a single mark on the parchment with his quill, before readjusting his horn-rimmed reading glasses and looking back down.
With his head spinning, the defeated fighter groaned and tried to look around, stars swimming all around his field of vision - then a firm, slender hand grasped his own and pulled him to his feet.
"Good fight," the woman said, with more than a slight hint of graciousness in her reserved voice. In truth, it had been anything but, and he knew it.
So fast… "Who… who are you?" he gasped, somehow managing to get the words out before they caught in his throat.
"A minstrel. That is all." With that final comment, delivered with perfect calm, Sheik turned and walked back out of the ring, only pausing along the way to look purposefully at the referee, who gave a brief, irritated nod in return.
Yes, yes, I got down your results. Now get out of my face and let me get on with my life.
Then she was gone, leaving Penn to slowly stagger out of the arena, leaning on the canvas for support. The grizzled man at the back of the spectator's area was the first to speak.
"What. The. Hell."
edited 4th May '12 6:59:15 AM by troydenite
The spartan stepped into the ring at the same time his opponent did. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man that reminded of the ODS Ts back home, except for the fact every inch of him was covered in tattoos. He grinned at Sam, a look of cruelty and malice, and exposed the stump where his tongue should have been.
"TALRAK VS! SAM...034? Uh, FIGHT!"
The tattooed man lunged at Sam, snarling like an animal, and swung a punch towards Sam's gut. The punch was easily side-stepped, and before the man could react, Sam nudged him towards the edge of the arena. He didn't want to hit back if he didn't absolutely need to, killing an opponent meant disqualification.
The man spun back around with a kick aimed at Sam's head, no small feat, which Sam simply grabbed and spun him back off in another direction and throwing the man off balance. He was slowly getting closer and closer to the edge and he noticed it. He positioned himself for an attack and motioned for Sam to come at him.
Sighing, Sam walked towards the man, and as he punched, grabbed his fist faster than anyone could blink and smacked him in the face with it. Shocked and dazed by the punch, and the fact he just got decked by his own fist, the man teetered on the edge of the arena and slowly fell, hitting the dirt below.
"SAM 034 WINS!"
Turning, Sam strode back out of the arena and sat down, watching as the other fighters slowly moved away from him. He was beginning to enjoy this world, now only if he could find someone to stand up to him in a fight.
Sky was ready for a fight. And then he saw that his opponent dressed up like him, except that he was Asian. Japanese maybe?
"Copycat!" The Asian-like SPD officer
yelled at Sky.
"Copycat?" Sky was insulted. "You're the copycat around here?!"
The Asian man charged at Sky, who gladly returned the attack by starting with a roundhouse.
"You're the faker when I am done with you!"
Sky was irritated that he went for a punch to the left temple, nearly making his opponent.
God, his English is so bad...
The fight went on for a while, both sides trading attacks until Sky got his opponent in a wristlock before kicking him in the face hard with another in the chest that he was not able to get up any longer.
Wait a second. The Asian man went to try again with a punch attack. This time, Sky executed a shoulder throw that knocked him out for good.
AND YOUR WINNER IS SKY TATE!
Sky raised his clenched fist after hearing applauses from the audience before leaving the arena.
edited 5th May '12 7:03:47 PM by Ominae
Did you know this section has a character limit?
Sec returned to studying the history of the land.
They do have medals for almost, and they're called silver!
huzzaaaaaaaah
Crocker was soon called for his second fight. Once he stepped into the tent, he realised that there were some people actually cheering for him. Before he could say hello to his fans and future servants, his opponent stepped onto the ring. He was gigantic. And Crocker was one hundred percent sure he was only muscle. He looked at the camera with a smile:
"There's no way I can win this fight!"
30 seconds later...
"And the winner is... Crocker!"
The teacher stared at his opponent, who had just been knocked out by another one of Crocker's accidental attacks. In fact, the accidental attack was so amazing, we're not even going to describe it in here to make sure your minds won't blow up from the awesomeness. No, really. He looked at the camera and screamed:
"KARMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Crocker ran away from the tent until he found Jack again. He immediately grabbed the man by his shirt, and shook him:
"HELP ME! If I accidentally win another fight, I'm going to have to fight a real person, not one of these mindless goons! I need to..."
He looked at one side. Then he looked at the other. He leaned in, getting extremely close to Jack, and whispered:
"... cheat."
"Well now," Melchior said while processing the transaction, "it's always good to hear that I'm not losing my touch in my old age. Though none of these compare to the Masamune... but then, aha, who am I to be able to make it's like?" He handed the card back to Melchior, having subtracted enough Silver Points from it to account for the Gold, which he intended to convert himself later. "Anything else I can help you with?"
As Shantotto entered the arena for her own first match, she sized up her opponent. Large, muscular, obviously strong. Unlikely to be fast or clever, but I should be careful in case I'm wrong. Said opponent was rather perplexed. "Whaa... this ain't no place for a little girl like you! Why don't you just step off before I have to hit ya?"
"Oooh~? I promise you, you won't land a single blow!"
"That so, girlie?"
The observing judge sighed. "Enough. Shannon of Windurst, Qarlas of Porre, begin fight."
Qarlas ran forwards, aiming an open-handed shove towards the small figure in what was probably a relatively gentle attempt to just push her out of the arena. Shantotto responded by jumping up and forwards, landing on his shoulder.
"Clumsy, aren't we?" she taunted him right to his face.
"You little..." He tried to grab her with his other hand, but she just performed a forward flip and landed on his other shoulder, following up by aiming a kick to the back of his head. This didn't do a lot of damage; even with the belt, she wasn't anything like as strong as a full-sized creature. It did catch him off guard, though. "Uargh!"
"Are you really a martial arts trainee?"
"Bloody little...!" Again, he swiped at her, and again, she dodged it, landing near the edge of the arena. "Got you now!" Qarlas ran at her again, roaring in blind fury, readying a punch that would wipe that smile of the girl's smug little face. All Shantotto had to do, of course, was roll forwards between his legs, and he was carried out of bounds by his own momentum.
"Winner, Shannon." Announced the judge. Qarlas stormed out of the tent, thoroughly humiliated.
As each fight concluded, the displayed brackets were adjusted, with additional lines painted on as matches were won to determine the next opponent. Each Champion* had won their first match, and they would now be ready for the second round to begin. The knocked out combatants that hadn't left in a huff were permitted to stay and watch.
edited 8th May '12 6:33:26 PM by Anura
A society grows great when old men plant trees whose shade they know they will never sit in.
(Avatar by Coffee)
Ratheln took a small piece of cloth from his robes. he tied the dagger to its sheath with it, then looped the cloth around his arm in such a way that a flick of the wrist would deliver the weapon to his palm. He let his voluminous sleeve cover it and ran his hand along his staff.
"I'd very much like to hear more about the history of the kingdom," he told Melchior. "You seem to be well-versed in it, and I always seek more knowledge; such is the creed of my order, the Silver Brotherhood."
Atrocitus went up the stage to fight his next opponent. It was an ugly looking individual, the kind of thug would see in one of those Earth "Westerns" he heard about. The man was favoring his gloves for some reason......
"Aw yeah, gonna knock your down like a slab of beef, meathead!" the opponent boasted, gesturing a thumbs down and then throat slitting action with the same thumb.
At least he's quieter than my previous opponent, Atrocitus thought. He quickly scanned the man's blood.......he saw it......
"Atticus Crimson vs. Feo Bruno!" the announcer said. "FIGHT!!"
Immediately Bruno ran up towards the Red Lantern and planted a hard punch right where the Ryutian's heart would be. Atrocitus barely noticed the blow itself. What he DID notice was the suddenly sting of four tiny sharp objects piercing directly into his skin.......
Bruno pulled back. "How'd you like THAT huh?!" he taunted. "Feelin' the pain now, aren'tchya?!"
"Actually, I didn't feel anything," Atrocitus retorted. "Were you gently caressing me or genuinely trying to hit me?"
Bruno growled. He punched Atrocitus twice more. Again the sharpness, more noticeable this time. "How's THAT, huh?! Bet's yer feeling woozy before those hits! That's the number of hits my last opponent took after I floored him with a boot to da face!"
"Yes, I might of seen that," Atrocitus said nonchalantly. "Very impressive."
A look of confusion flashed across Bruno's face. He then charged and planet a few more punches. Now clearly felt it......strange liquid being pumped into his veins......and being quickly burned by the napalm which flows in it instead of blood......
A confident yet desperate look came on Bruno's face. "Ready to give up?!" he boasted. "No one's ever survived that many hits!!"
"Lovely weather we're having, is it not?" Atrocitus said as if the topic as something else entirely. "It makes me want to have a nice quiet picnic. I think I would like to try one of those nice like sausages covered in peppers and onions."
Bruno merely stared at the Red lantern for while. He then growled........and then roared in rage.......and yelled as he closed in on Atrocitus, unleashing a whole flurry of punches. None of them phased the Ryutian in the slightest. It only made him aware of the poison the man was vainly trying pumped into him. A powerful depressant that slowly drains away the victims stamina, almost simulating intense physical exhaustion and possibly drunkness with a pain killer mixed in to prevent the victim from know it was injected.
He had all had needed. The charade ends.
Atrocitus them quickly kneed Bruno in the stomach, causing him to stumble back. As he recovered, the Red Lantern then grabbed Bruno by his shirt and lifted him up in the air. He grabbed each one of his gloves and tore off, revealing some type of gauntlet like mechanism that connected a set of small syrnigues to various tubes filled with some sort of purple fluid leading into the man's jackets.
The judges were visibly shocked. "Feo Bruno is disqualified!" one of the judges shouted. "Guards! Arrest this man for using a possibly illegal substance!"
The guards closed on the arena. Bruno was sweating bullets now. "Wait, I can explain - !!"
"Before you take him away officers, there's one more thing to reveal......." Atrocitus interrupted. He then plunged his claws into the man's neck and started to pulled. Those who watched gasped in horror as the perceived bounty hunter pulling away at this opponent's face.....
Soon, Atrocitus held the man's face, hanging limply in his hand...........
However, the face turned out to be rubber. And what lied underneath was a second face, this time of a man with a beautiful face that bordered between feminine beauty and boyish good looks, marred only by welts that come from removing strong packaging tape from one's face.
A beat.
One of the stunned officer managed to shake his thoughts clear first. "Hey, I know that guy!" he called out. "That's Guapo Georgio! He used to run a buncha illegal cage fights five years ago and he fled the Kingdom when the female fighters started claiming he raped them using romance toxins!" Upon that last bit all the officers snap out of their stupors and had the looks of angry dogs........
"Here you go," Atrocitus said, tossing the felon into the officers' midst. His pleas of mercy and willingly coming quietly were drowned out by the guards beating him with their wooden swords, leaving his face the only thing untouched. Once properly tenderized, the guards began dragging the man away and mentioning someone named Billy Bob being able to "straighten" the villain out as the Red Lantern stepped down. One of the officers walked up to him. "Thanks for bagging that guy for us," he said. "How'd you know it was him?"
"Intuition," Atrocitus lied. "Plus, I never heard about him until one of your co-workers mentioned him," he said truthfully. "This tournament is merely downtime for me," he said as a half truth.
"Well, thanks anyway," the officer said. "Since you're on vacation, you don't mind a 10% bonus on the guy's bounty after we process him?"
"No I don't," he said. "How much exactly?"
"500," the officer said.
"Thank you," he said. "Give it to me after the tournament."
"My pleasure," the officer said before returning to his post.
At least this will provide some extra spending money for the group until this mission is over, Atrocitus thought.
edited 9th May '12 3:26:35 PM by UdtheImp
DAMMIT MARK, STOP HOTTING HELPY!!
The Mighty Pen
Urza's observations of the various matches had given him valuable insight into the other champions' battle tactics and techniques, and thus the strategies he would need should once he came up against them. All of them, needless to say, involved cheating. And he suspected many of them might not have much practice at doing so subtly, so others didn't notice. The artificer had spent dozens of lifetimes as the power behind several thrones at once and familiarized himself with every trick of dirty fighting that existed in Dominaria, physical, mental, magical, and political. He was so occupied in considering possible tactics against the various champions that he nearly missed the announcement of his own match.
"For our next match, we have quite the pair of fighters! In corner number one, we have Urza, an archaeologist who surely must have discovered some secrets of fighting, or else this match will end even sooner than any of us expects! In corner number two, we have the redoubtable Devin, a man of few words but great actions, a local student!"
The man in question was small and wiry, thus his fighting style was likely based upon agility and using an opponent's force against them. This was one of the worst styles for Urza to come up against...but that wasn't saying much. The planeswalker stepped into the ring and bowed to his opponent, who returned it, a cocky grin on his face.
"Will the old bones teach the young scholar some new tricks, or will the power of youth triumph over experience? Find out now! AAAAND....FIGHT!"
The bell rang and the match was on. Urza considered his options. He could make use of dozens of mental magicks that were unseen and would manipulate the enemy's in in whichever way he chose. He could employ the more subtle physical magicks to increase his strength, speed, and endurance. He could activate the many tiny machines hidden about him. What he did was to simply look into his enemy's eyes. Urza's own powerstone eyes, hidden by both whatever magic gave them a semblance of normality and his usual projected appearance, had the gift of stealing memories. In a brief moment, Urza had absorbed everything the younger man had learned about fighting, including his style's weaknesses.
The planeswalker advanced much faster than one would have expected from his aged look, coming to grips with his opponent in a matter of seconds.
Devin gracefully sidestepped, preparing to trip him up and force him off the edge...only to find that Urza had anticipated the move and just as perfectly executed the counter-move, stopping abruptly and whirling about to take hold of Devin's grasping arm. The next moves in the sequence were done mostly out of habit. Urza shoved, Devin instinctively moved to the side and back, in preparation for yanking Urza forward and off balance, but those few steps carried one foot off the edge of the ring. His reliance on routine was the younger man's worst feature in fighting, so Urza's eyes told him. The artificer merely took advantage of Devin's struggle for balance and threw an arm bar at him that pushed him off the edge, where he landed still on his feet.
The crowd seemed disappointed at the quickness of the fight at first, but the announcer didn't let them think about it too long.
"Truly an amazing half a minute, folks! It looks like there's life in these old bones yet! I think we can expect some great fights to come from this guy, so keep an eye out!"
While the man yammered on, Devin, looking awed if disappointed, asked Urza,
"Hey, you're pretty good. Where'd you learn those moves?"
"Nowhere of concern to you," Urza answered, already turning to head back to his corner, to watch the rest of the fights. His secrecy was preserved and he'd managed to avoid revealing his other tricks to the champions, he cared nothing about cultivating this man's friendship. He had bigger concerns on his mind. He resumed running possible scenarios regarding the other champions as though he'd never left. His mind was back on business.
A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent upon arriving. -Lao Tzu
Jack stepped out of the arena after winning his second fight. He was a bit disappointed though. "A measly broken wrist from punching my right arm and he calls it quits," the Chaser said. "Freakin' pussy."
It was then Crocker suddenly ran up to him and started shaking him.......or, more accurately, shaking himself as, compared to the Deathwatch champion, Crocker had the strength of a full grown toy poodle that as trying to shake down a metal street lamp.
"So, what you're saying is that you want to cheat so that you'll be able to lose?" Jack asked. "That's.........actually kinda refreshing!" he said, smiling at the novelty of the idea. "But you figure that out by yourself, ya vagina," he then said, frowning dangerously. "Or better yet, cowboy up, and deal with it! Death ain't allowed here, meaning losing isn't big of an issue. Big deal you you get hurt anywhere other than on yer ass, just suck it up like a man!"
DAMMIT MARK, STOP HOTTING HELPY!!
Did you know this section has a character limit?
Unfortunately for Sec, he received a physically capable opponent this round, and had been thrown out of the arena in under a minute.
"Puny human" said his opponent afterwards. That green body paint was interesting though.
Sec went off to food section. He'd never actually eaten most human foods before.
Walking up to a stand, he deposited a gold bar and said:
"I would like to purchase an alcoholic beverage. I have not attempted one beforehand."
huzzaaaaaaaah
Crocker stared at Jack as he told him what to do. Once he finished his little speech, a victorious smile appearing on his face. He soon placed his hands on his hips, his smile getting even wider, and Jack could swear he saw a transparent American flag appearing behind Crocker, and a few drums playing in the background:
"That's right! For years, I have been treated as comic relief! No one has ever taken me seriously! Well, today, I'm going to prove everyone is wrong! I shall cheat, and I shall cheat so gloriously, so amazingly, that everyone in the world will look at me and say with proud eyes: that man knows how to cheat! And I shall respect him for that! Because- one, two, three, four—"
An entire orchestra appeared out of nowhere and began to play a merry tune. Crocker walked up to the conductor:
"Alan Milvestri, everybody! You see, we change the first letter, so we don't break copyright! GENIUS! Everyone, one, two, three!"
Crocker jumped into the middle of the square, and began to sing in tune with the song:
"Cheating is the way of the winner
The winner always cheats
''Because cheating is simply
Humanity's sweetest treat!"
He approached Jack with a top hat and a cane:
"Cheating is the way of the winner
If you don't believe me, just wait and see!
Watch all these random people
Just agree with me!"
The camera then shifted to the square as a bunch of random people also began to sing:
"I cheat because I don't know what is right
I cheat my husband every night
We know that cheating is really wrong
But we can't resist singing along!"
"I cheat because I'm really shy
I cheat to get that delicious pie!
I cheat because I'm evil and sly
I cheat on every single try!"
All of the singers and Crocker walked to the main square and began doing a complicated coreography sequence as the song reached the end:
"Everybody!"
And soon they all sang together:
"Cheating is the way of the winner
The winner simply always cheats!"
Crocker pointed his cane at Jack:
"So why slump down and cry
Trying really hard to deny
It's easy to just lose and die
But to be a cheating winner you have to..."
And they all sang the last word together:
"TRYYYYYY!"
The song ended, and even though some of Crocker's musical madness made Jack at least imagine what Crocker was seeing, everything only happened on Crocker's head. Pretty much everyone on the entire square was looking at him like they just saw an alien come out of the sky wearing a shirt on his head and dancing the hula.
edited 10th May '12 1:46:32 PM by Stratofarius
This......yeah, Jack had finally seen everything. He saw some tiny little man go through some psychotic break involving a full-on, show-stopping, Broadway style musical number with him as the only performer inside a partially cramped little tent, the whole inside that demented little pimple he called a brain. Even worse, it seemed Crocker completely either misinterpreted or ignored Jack's suggestion of not cheating and just deal with whatever loss he suffered.
Jack, despite him being a bloodthirsty killer that's a borderline sociopath, always held fair play to its utmost importance when it came to games such as these. Except when the game is rigged from the beginning and/or the circumstances behind it involves large scale civilian death.
The Chaser merely stood there impassively, staring at the school teacher with a stoic expression. Jack pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. He lit up the cancer stick, and took a long, calming drag. He then roughly picked up Crocker. "Yeah," he said to him, the strong smell of tobacco and onions assaulting the fairy hunter's nostrils and face. "You do that," he said while at the same time shoving the end of the still lit cigarette under Crocker's eye.
He then lifted him up in to the turned him around, dropping, and spanked the idiot so hard with his metal hand that Crocker was sent flying out of the West tent straight into the East tent.
Jack then smirked and took a second drag.
"It is clear that that little man suffered a truly grave traumatic event as a young child which left his sanity in shambles now as an adult," came a voice. Atrocitus walked up next to Jack. "Such is the only way to explain why that man is the way he currently is right now. I believe whatever event occurred, it instilled within him the delusion that fairies were involved in his suffering, and his general anti-social behavior most likely came from being ostracized by society in general after said traumatic event. This most likely developed into full-blown paranoid schizophrenia, and it would have made him unfit for being anywhere outside of a prison cell if not for his obsessive compulsive disorder being targeted towards a mythological creature. Possible parental abuse might also be a factor, if not part of the problem it certainly had a hand in worsening it, with the mother figure simultaneously coddling him and using upon him harsh physical and mental abuse with no middle ground, leading an unhealthy attachment to where he might still live with said mother figure. The fact that there does not seem to be any father figure as a familial balance could also be another facet to his madness.
"Something of which you might be unintentionally forming as," the Red Lantern finally said to Jack.
"*pfft* Me? A dad? Really?" Jack rebuked. "I can't stand kids myself, so your expecting me to be the father of some pansy ass manboy?"
"I'm not expecting you to," the Ryutian said. "I am merely stating my own observations."
"Observations, huh?" the Chaser said. "What are you, some kind psychologist?"
"Psychiatrist, actually," Atrocitus answered, "and yes. Yes I was. In a previous life......."
Jack merely raised an eyebrow at that was Atrocitus walked away.
DAMMIT MARK, STOP HOTTING HELPY!!
huzzaaaaaaaah
And as Crocker flew through the sky, one could clearly hear him saying:
"These events will only serve as plot points to strenghten our relationship as unlikely friends and faaaaaaaaaamily!"
Stealth Bomber
Flashback Thyme
We walked up to the arena and got in our assigned corner when it was time. The announcer walked into the center of the arena, list in hand. We placed our axe and ill-gotten nightstick in the corner. As far as we knew, the opponent was nowhere to be found.
"In the red corner..." said the announcer- or more accurately, shouted- "weighing 250 pounds...from parts unknown, a man so secretive that he registers here under the name of his clan! Please welcome...ERMAC!"
We walked forward, raising a fist. The crowd applauded, and we stepped back, getting into a Choy Lay Fut stance.
"And in the bl-" the announcer began, but suddenly a block of ice flew into the ring and smashed into the man. The ice shattered and melted in a matter of seconds, but the announcer was out cold. We dragged him out of the ring and looked up to see a bald man dressed like a biker walking into the ring with a cocky smile on his face.
"I'll describe myself, thank you very much!" he barked in a drawling yet tough voice. "In the icy blue corner, weighing 252 pounds, from the good old South, the man who's so damn good it's stunning with a stone cold heart...Ice! Dagger! James! Houstooooooooon!"
All he got were boos. One man in the front row of the audience stood up and yelled "You suck!" "Ice Dagger," as the arrogant man called himself, got out of the ring and faced the man directly.
"What?" said the biker.
"I said you suck! Fight a fair fight or don't fight at all!"
"WHAT?!" James was now screaming directly in the heckler's face. The heckler was about to reply, but then the biker kneed the man in the stomach, grabbed him around the neck, and slammed him down to the ground, freezing his retort in the viewer's throat. The crowd booed as he got back in the ring. "You think you're so tough?" he said to us.
"Be warned, Ice Machete Jack- no, John- whatever in the Netherrealm your name is," we said. "When you face me, you face an entire army concentrated in a single man!"
"You can go on about your Ermac 25:17... well, Houston 25:17 says I'm gonna whoop your ass!"
A random member of the crowd yelled "Fight!" and it was on.
Houston started by running at us and throwing an elbow to the face with his right arm. Before we could recover, he brought the arm back and punched us on the opposite side of the head. He finished the combo with a roundhouse upside the head, which knocked us back. We flew in the air, then crashed onto the ground. Just as we got up, he kneed us in the stomach and put us in the headlock. As we gasped for air, he jumped up and dropped to the ground, slamming us. We were stunned by that one for a moment.
The crowd booed as Houston laughed maniacally. He bragged in cliches about how great he was, but then we pushed ourselves back on our feet. The crowd turned to cheers, and he turned to see we were standing again.
"WHAT?!" he said. "N...Nobody gets up after a Stunning Strike!"
"Let me ask you something," we said. "What does Kuai Lang look like?"
"WHAT?!"
We punched him right in the mouth.
"What clan are you from?"
"WHAT?!"
We kicked him in the chest and he stumbled back, but regained his balance.
"What is not a clan I know of! Do they speak the common language in clan What?"
"WHAT?!"
We punched him right in the sensitive area, and he growled in pain.
"Common language, demon-lover! Do you speak it?"
"Y-Yes!"
"Say 'what' again! I dare you, I double dare you, demon-lover! Say 'what' one more time! Now, since my last question was too hard for your miniscule, egocentric brain, describe what the announcer looks like!"
"H-He's black-"
"Go on!"
"He's bald-"
"Does he look like your punching bag?"
"WHAT?!"
At that point, just to shut him up, we gave him a nice hard uppercut to the chin. At the apex of his flight through the air, we grabbed him, flipped him upside down, and slammed him on his head. He fell to the ground face-down, and to finish him off, we dealt an elbow drop right to his back. As we did this, the announcer finally thawed from unconsciousness. Houston was now knocked out himself.
"Ladies and gentlemen, your winner," said the announcer, "ERMAC!"
The crowd cheered, and we decided to salute them. We climbed up on the top rope and struck a pose giving us the impression of levitating. The crowd's cheers rose even higher. We jumped off the rope and approached the announcer.
"Was that overkill, the way I ended the match?" we asked.
"Nah," he said. "He's pulled crap like that every single time he's fought in a tournament. I'm surprised the Unarmed Combatants' Guild hasn't thrown him out yet."
We grabbed our axe and baton and left the arena to recover a bit of energy, glad that, even with no weapons or powers available to use, we had tested our might and passed with flying colors.
J-E-T-S JETS JETS JETS!
"Interesting rules."
Sky said after he got a jist of the rules.
"Reminds me of the MMA rules back in the 21st Century when they got popular..."