Challengers Welcome(thread closed)

[Fiuth]

Fiuth couldn't believe it. The Higher-ups wanter more patrons, and so they decided to help the destitute while lining their pockets. So, they let out an invitation to the poor, the evil, and those with illusions of skill and power. And who got to fight first, but Tobinawa's Six Gods Battlegroup. And who was first? Yours truly of course. It was going to be a looooong day. Better get it over with quickly and painlessly. So the fighter gave a heavy, sorrow laden sigh as he donned his helmet. Well, Tobinawa did ask that he be first. Not ordered, but asked. And Fiuth could never turn his master down.

Cheers were torn from a million throats as Fiuth emerged. The wealthy top of Touchdown, most of them fans of his. It was so terribly shallow when you thought about it, but that didn't concern him at the moment. He rolled his neck and loosened the tension in his muscles. Better not be slowed down by tightened biceps or anything. He might actually get hurt. Wouldn't do to disappoint his 'loyalists'. And give those sour at his success something to be happy about. It just couldn't do at all.

Fiuth stepped on the grid platform. Normal rules applied, but there were at least two 'challenge' groups to go through. Against just Tobinawa's. Slightly unfair. The challengers didn't stand a chance at 2-1 odds. Should have recruited more newbies. It wasn't going to be much of a show.

Fiuth watched calmly as the first victim climbed on the stage. He had managed to get some gladiator-type armor and a nice large maul that fit his chemical-enhanced muscles nicely. Underneath the helmet, the challenger grinned; as if he stood a single chance. Fiuth had been dealing with opponents bigger than he was for quite some time. Fiuth heard the announcer ramble on, and then the bell hit. At that chime, the muscle-bound hobo charged at him, maul held to the side. Karesawa knew that he intended to swing the maul up, using inertia and his strength to blow Fiuth away. Only problem was, he gave too much away with the charge. Fiuth leaned back and to the side as the maul brushed by his nose. As his opponent finished the circle, Fiuth lunged forward and kneed him in the stomach. He had the leverage and power to knock the guy flying over the arena. But Fiuth didn't intend for him to get away. He leaped up and over his opponent, and brought down both feet down on the same spot he initially hit. He watched the man's eyes bulge comically as he sprung off the man's body and gave a front roll over his head. When he landed, he spun and brought his leg up and down in an ax kick to the throat. The previously bulged eyes decided to roll this time, and went to see the inside of the man's skull. He turned contemptuously as the appropriate number of squares lit blue. Cleaners dragged the unconscious man aside, and there was some more pesky buzzing from the announcer. Fiuth turned, and watched as a lightly armored, purple haired man in a ponytail stood up on the stage. He didn't look like a man; more a boy really; but his mulberry eyes examined Fiuth gravely, and he held himself like Karesawa did himself. This one match might take a while. Fiuth got ready.

[hweri]

"...and so conclusively; the Organization of Underground Combatants cordially invite those willing to earn 100 Credits a minute, through the Gentleman's Sport. Convene to Easter Island Casino, and head to the stage on Ground Floor at 12:00 tomorrow. A lift will carry you down to the Tunnel-ways, where a guide will take you to Battle Prep. Fighters, we salute you..."

Hweri blinked at the flyer. Some guy had gotten in to his work and simply posted this up there. Curious, Hweri had read it. As his boss yelled at him to get back to the Flier I-58 he was working on, he felt a furious and heated discussion happen in his head.

WE SHOULD GO FOR IT. MONEY FOR STUFF I'D DO FOR FREE-A CHANCE TO SLAUGHTER MEAT BAGS.
You would see it like that. I don't think we should. Hweri might Die.
CLUCKING LIKE A MOTHER HEN, LIKE ALWAYS CARISSA. HWERI'LL BE FINE. BESIDES, I HEAR THESE PLACES FIX AND RESURRECT LOSERS.
I still don't like it...
Karazone's just trying for a chance to show off his 'skills.'
Mirka hardly kept the scorn out of his voice as he commented.
Instead of yelling, like always, Karazone appealed to his host.
THINK ABOUT IT, HWERI. WITH THE MONEY YOU COULD MAKE OUT OF THIS, YOU COULD KEEP UP YOUR SAMARITAN WORK BETTER BUDGETED. IT'S NOT LIKE YOU'LL GET MONEY FROM ANYONE ELSE. ESPECIALLY NOT THE CHEAPSKATE IN CHARGE OF YOU NOW...

Hweri thought about it. He really did. But Karazone had shown an unprecedented capability for smarts. He used tact, and got Hweri's sore spot.

So the Trasi found himself in line with a bunch of others. The trasi had managed to scrounge up some light metal plates, and got them into serviceable light armor. He rolled his shoulders, and then watched the fighter ahead of him. With growing trepidation, he watched the fighter dispatched in mere moments. He dropped in his mind, and felt the only person who could face him come out.

Mirka calmly stepped on the arena and assessed his opponent. Judo, karate, Kung-fu; maybe Kick-boxing and ninjutsu origins. This person would know how to fight. It was a good thing that Mirka's fighting memories held more than enough to take care of it. The announcer stated the appropriate information, and Mirka watched Fiuth through narrowed eyes. He vaguely heard Karazone complaining, but he set it aside. It was time to fight.

With a blink, he lunged at his oppenent. He watched him react to a frontal attack; but Mirka didn't plan that predictably. He placed a foot some ways ahead of Fiuth, leaped sideways, and placed his other foot to the side. Another lunge brought him flying to Fiuth's side, and he aimed for a shoulder strike at the ribs.

[Fiuth]

Fiuth had prepared for a semi-trained individual. His senseis would have beat him over the head for that. 'prepare for the unknown, even in the face of facts.' had been an oft repeated quote from every one of them. Fact: his opponent looked 19. Resulting thesis: opponent is an amateur. New fact: His ribs now hurt. Summery: He was a veritable emperor of idiots.

Fiuth winced as he stepped back from the blow. It was an expertly aimed rib-shot; and there might have been a few cracks in those bones. There was an outcry from the spectators as Fiuth received his first injury during his entire career. The Battlesquare fighter grunted, and gave a slight nod of his head. A 'well played' to this other man. The other simply snorted, and leaped into the air.

Fiuth was now prepared and gave a dodge-roll forward; under Hweri, and then lashed out in a heel strike. The indigo-haired fighter managed the foresight to duck and give a leg-sweep. Fiuth pushed up and the leg passed under him with inches to spare. Karesawa rolled in the air and gave an over-the head, double-heel strike when he landed on his palms. His adversary darted to the left, and spun in a fore-arm strike to Fiuth's side.

Fortunately, Fiuth managed to follow through with his hit; and so the arm passed ahead of him. But then it crashed down on his back, and he gasped as he hit the stone arena. He tumbled out of the way as another, stronger strike crashed onto the stone, and cracked it. Karesawa struggled to his feet and warily surveyed this threat. Two hits to the ribs, and unscratched himself. Fiuth had tried in most of his professional know-how to hit the other guy. He hadn't. New Fact: This guy was good. Result: Fiuth was royally screwed.

[hweri]

Mirka lightly leaped from foot to foot. This Fiuth character had been lucky. He had pulled back enough to avoid most of the damage the blows could have done. He was wincing in pain, but a fighter couldn't survive without good fortitude. He would fight through it, already he was getting up, and more ready to combat.

Mirka watched Fiuth examine his injuries, and then began his own attack. Fiuth launched into a dive roll, and then came up with a springboard kick. The fighter leaned back, and then followed in a flip-kick. Both toes of his shoes hit Fiuth in the back, and knocked him over on the ground. Mirka watched as his opponent winced, and then he rolled foreward, and then fell towords Fiuth in a double elbow strike to the abdomen.

"Easy Mirka. I don't want you to kill the man. Please don't."Hweri's mind voice interrupted the fighting trance he had been in, and Mirka groaned inwardly. His host was too soft-hearted. A fight couldn't go through without proper killing intent; and Mirka wouldn't even have had a chance without it. Not like he'd be able to kill the Battlesquare fighter anyway. As doubtful as t was with the results, Fiuth was a professional; and Mirka only had thousand of gigabytes of fighting knowledge in his mentality. Not the experience that Fiuth undoubtedly had; and experience counted in the long run.

As the mental chaos reigned, Fiuth managed to get a solid hit to Mirka's upper shins. Pain lanced through the receptors in his leg, and he felt small damage in his leg. Mirka shook his thoughts out of his head and counter-struck with a side-arm strike to the head. As Fiuth backed up, dazed, Mirka reevaluated his battle plan. It was past time to wrap this up. He struck.

[Fiuth]

Fiuth dodged the spinning elbow strike, and countered with a double-fist strike to the solar plexus. As Hweri stumbled back, Fiuth spun and struck with a knee-blow to the side. As the other fighter tumbled, Fiuth rose and delivered a nasty upper-palm strike to Hweri’s chin. His opponent’s head popped, and he flew across the arena. Karesawa rolled and followed that with a leap, carrying him through the air in just enough time to meet a forward palm-strike by Hweri. His trajectory thus reversed, Fiuth staggered back, and then let it carry him through, and he rolled to the left, dodging a stomp-kick from his adversary. He maneuvered around, and spun up in an ascending kick. His boot just barely grazed Hweri’s ear, and his challenger retaliated in a mule-kick.

Fiuth managed to backflip and dodge the attack. He was growing into the rhythm now. It was a bit sketchy at first, where he had underestimated this fighter. But most of his teachers had taught him that a battle followed a rhythm and cadence; a pattern most like that of a dance. Good fighters can read the dance, much like master chess-players can tell many moves in advance. Fiuth was exceptional, and his opponent was a Master. This was going to be one heck of a chess match.

Fiuth dodged a rapid-fist strike from Hweri. Fiuth caught one of his fists in his hands and pulled, knocking Hweri off balance again. Karesawa thrust a foot out and hit Hweri’s ankles and Hweri fell forward. Fiuth decided to help him out on his travels, and grabbed the back of his foe’s head and fell forward on one knee, slamming his face on the ground, causing a sizable dent in the arena. The battlesquare fighter wiped his hands and turned around, facing the crowd. He walked away from his fallen foe, and then felt hands grab his collar and waist. He was lifted up and over and hit the ground where Hweri had previously lain. Karesawa could’ve hit himself. Another maxim of his masters; “Never turn your back until victory is 100%.” He didn’t make sure Hweri was out, and so got punished for it with one heck of a headache.

[hweri]

As Hweri slammed Fiuth into the arena, he knew that this fight had gone on long enough for professionals. If it didn't end soon, both of them were going to collapse from exaustion. He jumped back, blanning his moves, when he suddenly fell forward. Karesawa had done a leg sweep. After continuing with the spin, he brought a fist up and hit Mirka before he could finish falling. Fiuth stood, pushing the android up and over, with fist still in his chest. Mirka felt a small crunch as his back broke more of the arena substance.

As Fiuth bounced up from the impact, Mirka rolled back and extended his legs, hitting his opponent and staggering him back long enough for him to get up. Mirka continued rolling untill his knees were below him, and then rolled towards Fiuth, and springing up in a spearing tackle. As he went down again, he grabbed Fiuth's legs and, as he finished another roll, tossed him over his shoulders.

Mirka watched as Fiuth skidded some ways, and then did a back-to-knee spin that brought him up, facing Mirka. Both fighters watched, and then sprung; Mirka taking out his silver blade, and thrust it into Fiuth's kidney. He watched triumphan, as Fiuth futilly tried for one last punch. Then, underneath the visor of his opponent's helm, he saw a glitter in Fiuth's eye. Hastily he let go the knife and backed away, but not before a punch slammed into his chest, Mirka knew it had been a last-ditch effort, and mentally sighed; until he felt the blade go through his chest and emerged from his back. He looked down, stunned as his systems began a shut-down that enabled it to refix its hardrive. The last thing he heard was that announcer stating "A magnificint try by Challenger Hweri. He will be recieving 3,000 credits for staying in half an hour. It was a draw..." Mirka faded from reality, and back into the confines of Hweri's mentality.

End Fight.