[IC] World Warriors: The Nomadic Fist (Quirky Fighting Game Influenced Roleplay)

[Savo]

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@Mr Allen J

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Looks like this motherfucking kitten decided to bar her flaming claws! Cute, really god damn cute. The One remained relatively unfazed for the most part (or at least put up a damn good act) as he stared down the flaming fists of fucking fury.

"Ooh, I'm sooooo fucking sorry, please spare me, don't shitfist meeeeee," he twirled his hat back onto his cue-ball head, he stuck his fucking bottom lip out and clasped his hands together, squinting his eyes together as he shook his fucking fists back and forth at the lady... before breaking from that nonsensical act, breaking into laughter as he grasped the lips of his hat, feeling it down as he gave Brenda a cold, soulless, shit-destroying stare.

"Tch, children like you get triggered at almost fucking everything; pretty fucking annoying how one loudass observation lead to taunting, and now for you, fucking fists." He gave his cane a twirl in his hands before letting it land with a satisfying pap on his shoulder. Through his unfeeling fucking teeth, he cracked a smile and toyed with his canines, rubbing them back and forth.

"You really must be nothing more than a dumbass bimbo if you're choosing to resort to violence so fucking quickly instead of choosing to ignore me or walk the fuck away." He chuckled a little before pivoting around and walking in a little in the opposite direction.

Heh, heh, alright, this fuckin' bitch was DEFINITELY losing all self control... heh, of course, she was; the marionette to The One, the only puppet meister! He was more than sure the shitsinkers around was getting a bit nervous, considering how he was acting... mayhaps if he kept this fucking up...

"Ah, such a fucking dull minded broad that can only resort to violence after hearing things they don't like." He switched around, fully staring at her visage as he tilted his goddamn head at her.

"Go on, let your fist fly with abandon at me; try to satiate your godshitting rage," he flipped his cane off his shoulder, holding it in his fucking hand as he pointed his fist at her. "But in return, you'll end up admitting The fucking One is fucking right... wouldn't be too big of a fucking surprise with someone like you."

He licked his lips, displaying his teeth as he clicked and clacked his gums like a metronome, awaiting her own dumbshit reaction as he tightly gripped his hat with a free hand. He stared at her with the biggest, "whatcha gonna fuckin' do about it" grin that he could. All in all, he was for certain this would drive her to try (and fail so gosh damn hard) to hit him.

[KaiserElectric]

_{Done with the help of the wonderful and sexy @Savo and @Mr Allen J}

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Every word this man said only drove her to make him shut up any way she could.

Coming up to her and taunting, then acting high and mighty. Clearly, he must be some loser that was so desperate for a lady's attention, he must go to any length to achieve it. Well, he better hope he gets a cute nurse in the hospital.

"I don't think you get it," Brenda crossed her arms as the magma disappeared. "When someone challenges me, I step up to the challenge... I don't move for anyone."

Even if he thought he was some master manipulator (when he was, in actuality, really stupid), she was going to make sure it backfires.

In a sudden movement, her right arm started glowing with a bright orange color as it was coated with red hot magma. She dashed forward with astonishing speed as she punched the ground right at this bastard's feet. A torrent of magma came flying upwards right at his face.

Ha! Looks like this bitch was nothing more than a slave to another person's words. Stepping up to the stupidass challenge? More like an obvious cover up for a wineshit temper tantrum! As soon as he saw this dipshit rush straight at him, his motherfucking hat was off and aimed behind him.

Of course, what he didn't fucking expect was to punch the fucking ground with her fists, causing him to recoil just a bit... before realizing in mere seconds that magma was going for his god damn face.

Swiftly changing up his fucking calibrations, he leaned his head a little back as shitty missiles shot out from the back of his top hat, before exploding behind him. This in turn, briskly shot him past the stupid bimbo, whilst narrowly avoiding a fiery fate.

Brenda whipped around herself, and narrowed her eyes at the bastard. He had missiles... Brenda didn't expect that. What she expected was this dipshit to have some brand of ki. Nomads were weird.

As he rolled onto the floor, he fucking regained his composure as The One maneuvered himself into a position that put him back on his feet. Twirling around, he smirked as he gripped his stick.

"Heh, you're as slow as your fucking wit!"

And while he wasted time flapping his gums (which was his fatal flaw in this situation), Brenda had already rolled over to him. Being merely face to face with this bastard before he could even spit out the last word. Her fists were coated in stone, as she threw a haymaker at his chest.

Shit! Too fucking long! Those shitty safety protocols had to be engaged now! Two options to fucking choose from! Fucking great! Can't use his damn missiles now! Either hurt and possibly get kicked out or get hurt and be at a disadvantage during his goddamn arena fight! Fuuuuuck!

Swinging his stick at her rocky fist to counteract the bimbo, his stick knocking her fist out of the way, and nearly throwing her off balance. The One found himself on the receiving end of getting his ass spun around and knocked back! Thank fuck he still had a tight grip on his hat and shot close to himself, nearly making contact with some other contestants who managed to get the fuck out of the way...

And unlike the prior time, he didn't gracefully make the landing since he was spinning like a goddamn ballerina in midair. Landing directly on his back, he could only bare his teeth as he tried to scramble back up.

Thankfully for Brenda, she recovered before The One did. This was Brenda's specialty, getting up and personal, and staying there. She hopped up in the air, and lunged in towards The One with her fist extended. As she fell, her body was coated in fire, and she had the intensity of a meteor falling.

Ok, not going to get up for fucking now, nope, fuck nope! Dropping his arm to be at ground level, The One began preparing his fucking exit strategy as he quickly rolled to the side all while aiming his top hat in front of him. In an instant, more god damn missiles shot out that caused him to slide backwards through the crowd and between the legs of some unaware fighters.

"Later biiiiiitch!"

Once he was some distance away, he immediately rolled backwards and hopped back onto his godhell feet. Looking behind him, he found the perfect fucking scenario; HELL YES! For a second he saw an unaware fighter speaking with some fans - now way all of them would have a single fucking idea what hit them...

... and neither would that stupid bimbo as he looked back to see her dashing like some fucking horse at him. Leering at her, he just aimed his hat at her... steady...

"You were talking a lot of shit for someone who runs like a little bitch!"

Brenda hit the ground, as she took frightening steps towards The One. With every step, her fist started glowing hot like magma. She eventually realized that she would have to change her strategy a bit. Her fist cooled as she punched the ground hard as she could, and made a rock erupt from the ground.

Hopping up to a standing position, her other arm punched the stone hard as she could, and sent it flying.

Yes! He fucking did it! I mean, he was The One, how could he fucking not? Looks like this bimbo was getting her ass kicked straight out of the tournament. Even if it was a fucking projectile, it would work! Hell Yeeeees!

Cracking an even bigger smile than before, The One just simply just fucking... rolled to the side and back onto his feet, out of the stupid hells way... if only the same thing could be said for the poor fucktard who knew NOTHING of what would happen to him in a few seconds.

"Hold, stonethrower!"

Brenda's projectile was suddenly cut short as a pillar of ice suddenly burst from the ground, deflecting the stone from its mark and hitting the nearby wall, leaving a considerable dent in the wooden siding where it impacted. The 'stonethrowing' Brenda looked around irritably for the intruder, quickly spotting one of the largest people she had ever seen before sitting on a nearby raised wall, looking incredibly bemused by the situation. With her white hair and skin, the furs and leathers she was wearing, and the fact that there appeared to be ice forming on the wall where she was seated, Brenda was surprised she hadn't noticed the woman sooner.

Brenda came to a sliding stop, and looked at the woman. "Stay out of this!" She hissed to the woman, as her fists were coated in stone. "This ain't got nothing to do with you."

What.

Where did this hugeass broad come from?! Ugh, he could of gotten her ass kicked out of the tournament if not for this fucking bitch! Regardless, The One knew he could probably handle the bimbo if he had a reason to try and harm her, but possibly two?

Ha, ha!... no.

Nuh uh, nooooo. Tits McGee One and Tits McGee number fucking Two could go fuck a horse sized cactus for all he cared, considering One (aka the Bimbo Bitch with the Bolted On Tits) would probably try and turn Two (aka, the Size Queen Icicle Dildo Fucker) against him... or some shit like that.

Regardless, he assess the godfucking situation, which called for a strategic retreat!

Merging into the crowd, the dapper man disappeared from sight... not like they would fucking care, thank god.

"Of course not," the woman said with a chuckle and got to her feet, spreading ice along the ground under her soles and coming up to her full impressive height. "You just seem like a fine opponent. I would hate to see you thrown out of the competition for besting that one too early."

Brenda groaned, as she put her hands on her hips. She noticed the cold, and counteracted it with her own heat. Maybe she was right... and if she played her cards right, she could beat The One's shit in the tournament. So, she'd have to be patient.

"... Fine." Brenda said. "But, this isn't over."

"Skraeling..." the woman uttered after the retreating figure under her breath before turning her attention back to Brenda and holding out a hand. "I don't believe I've introduced myself. I am Klara, daughter of Grimolf."

"Brenda..." Brenda shrugged as she tried to come up with a title for herself. "... Cleaver of stone." She grabbed onto Klara's hand.

"It suits you!" Klara said with a laugh. "I take it someone of your talent is here for the tournament as well?"

"Yes... I need to win it for the money." Brenda somberly answered, she noticed her grip was strong, but she returned the favor. "You? Don't tell me you're one of those loons that wants to make her style the greatest, or something..."

"Oh no, I'm not much of a teacher. My interest is in seeking out worthy opponents to clash with and prove my honor, as the saying goes. Although..." Klara pondered, stroking her chin thoughtfully. "I do suppose the prize money would be helpful."

"Well I need it for my journey." Brenda said, looking the woman in the eye. "I don't know how far I'm going to make it up the ladder - being my first tournament - but I hope I earn something out of this."

"Of that I have little doubt!" Klara said encouragingly, clapping Brenda on the back. "Fight well, and perhaps we will toast to one another's success when the victor is decided!"

The way this woman acted perplexed Brenda a bit... but, she was going to go with it. "... Y-yeah." She awkwardly chuckled. "To the victor."

"To the victor!" Klara chorused enthusiasticly, turning to leave. "Safe travels, Cleaver of Stone!" And with a stride in her step she was off, pausing only to clench her fist at the pillar of ice, which collapsed in on itself at the gesture.

[Punished GN]

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In the midst of the fight, security was called, but called off when the frosty giant of a woman broke it up for them. They could had reprimanded the fighters, but that was good for the cameras!

And nobody knew that better than the charismatic Andre.

"Alright! I'm glad nobody got hurt there, ladies and gentlemen! I'd like to remind you all that, while that brawl was impressive, to keep the physical acts of violence in the ring!"

Andre chuckled into the microphone, before he raised his finger up into the air valiantly.

"But, I hope that little scuffle didn't distract you, because we are ready to begin!"

The crowd loudly cheered as Andre raised both hands in the air, pulling his fingers in as a gesture for everyone to come up. Before pointing to the sky yet again, at the large screen that displayed all the match ups.

"Here are the matchups for the preliminaries!"

■ The One vs. Calvin Redug.

■ The Doctor vs. Brenda Andrade.

■ Velvet vs. Brooklyn Vanburen.

■ Klara Grimolfdottir vs. Otsana Corral.

■ SYM-04 vs. Brenton Ross

■ Fafnir vs. Margot Coudray.

■ Andrea vs. Chung Yeong-Suk.

"Now, fighters go to your stage!" Andre announced, and everyone that was in the area overlooking the tournament quickly went down a special hallway. They were directed by the staff of the tournament exactly where they needed to go. Eventually, every fighter found their stage. Each stage was different from each other in appearance. In the end, all of it was just cosmetic choice. One stage was a mountain, while another was a city. What they all had in common was that they had a drop outside of them where fighters could get knocked off.

"Are you ready...?" Andre asked in a restrained tone, before he exploded with...

"... Go!"

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_@wxps350

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The whole brawl that took place was unexpected.

Justin barely had to move as the woman who could wield stone, and the dapper man, went head to head. Well, it wasn't as much of a fight as the man was dodging whatever the woman was throwing at him. Justin compared her to a bull - a terrifying display of strength, but far too easily lead along for her own good. Even he could say that as an observer. He hoped that she would fight better than that in the tournament, or she wouldn't last long.

Justin sighed.

None of his concern, unfortunately. He had to focus all of his efforts on winning this tournament. When the tournament officially began, and the Nomads were herded to the stages, Justin just went along with it. He and Seven-Seven were separated, but he knew that she could handle herself. Besides, nobody in their right mind would bother attacking the tournament with this many people (even the jobbers could pose a challenge to the right person).

Stepping onto the stage, Justin came face to face with the... thing Seven-Seven was talking to. In all honesty, this man looked like something that MAVERICK would hunt down - but, know that he knows they were corrupt, it's hard to peg just who was guilty anymore. He shook his head as he crossed his robotic arms.

His name was Jeremy, if he remembered correctly. A funny name for such an intimidating machine. For now, kept his eyes on it's tail. That was the one thing he was worried about. If he played it smart, he could parry the strikes from the tail, and then capitalize on it.

Not a word left Justin's mouth... he wasn't the mouthy one to begin with. Probably more focused on this fight than the other combatants.

When Andre gave them the go-ahead, Justin dropped into stance. One of his Muay-Thai stances, and kept his eyes on the machine.

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_{@Holy Soldier}

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Shiiit! The fighting started before the tournament. Couldn't anybody - y'know - wait to beat each other's brains in?

Either way, Brooke dropped into stance. Not because she was going to jump into that. Instead, because they were slinging around some heavy artillery (Rocks, magma, and rockets, oh my), and she didn't want to get hit with a stray shot. They obviously didn't give a damn about the other combatants, so she was going to be ready to tank it. Thankfully another ice person stopped it before the situation could get any worse. And she was hot (Pun!).

Well, now since that was cleared up, the tournament conveniently began! And Brooke couldn't wait to get out there on the floor. Destroying other scrubs that stand in her way! Brooke saw Margot, and gave her a thumbs up out of courtesy (Because God it would be impossible to speak over all this chatter). Shortly, she made it to her stage, and got to meet her opponent face to face!

Her name was Velvet, and something... European? It was lost on Brooke, but the moment she caught eyes on her, she knew this would be an interesting fight! The babe had her ass, and titties out, blowing in the wind. Like, Brooke dresses lightly, but does this girl have any shame? Like, even a little? Brooke couldn't help but let out a chuckle. Even though she wanted to burst out in laughter, she had to be serious here.

But, that isn't to say she wasn't going to be friendly. When she stepped on the stage, she walked over to the woman she stood a few inches over, and extended her hand.

"Hey! I'm Brooke! Pleased to meet ya'!" Brooke said. "Know we don't have a whole lotta time, but may the best woman win!"

With that, Brooke turned around and went to her end of the stage, and prayed to God that Velvet wouldn't destroy her.

"Go!" Andre shouted.

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_@Savo

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After the fight, Brenda just awkwardly shifted off towards the stages. While that man pissed her off, she definitely needed to control her own temper. Besides, if she won this tournament, she doesn't have to worry about that loser. She stepped onto the "stage," with her hand on her hip, she noticed that it was a giant platform held up by several large chains. And underneath the platform was a whole lot of water.

Her opponent was some fuck just named "The Doctor." When she stepped on the stage, she crossed her arms as she looked at him. Well, he was definitely a doctor. A wimp, definitely, but Brenda wondered what tricks he had up his sleeve. After all, he definitely looked crafty as a back alley doctor.

"Hey!" Brenda said. "I didn't know Doctors were fighting in tournaments now."

She wiped the side of her mouth.

"Heh, but everyone's got a gimmick these days, right?"

"Go!" Andre shouted.

And in that instant, Brenda's fist was coated in hard stone as she didn't waste time dashing over towards him.

[Megsychan]

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@Mr Allen J

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Gloves, Yeong-Suk mentally noted to herself as she put on her sleek, black gloves. It was finally time to prove to her handlers that she was ready, ready to fight for the glory of Juche and the Supreme Leader.

Hat, she continued, donning the signature KPA cap. She pulled on her tie one last time, to make it as straight as it possibly could be. As she brushed her skirt, there was only one last item to check off for.

She grabbed the pistol off of the table, slammed the magazine into the gun, and cocked the barrel before putting the saftey on.

Baek Du San, she finished. Sliding the pistol into her inner jacket pocket, she hoped to the Eternal President that she didn't have to use the gun at any point in Brazil. Things would have to go really wrong before she would have to shoot at someone, especially at the tournament itself. After the incident in Malaysia, the last thing the North Korean government wanted is to explain another extrajudicial murder on foreign soil. That being said, the slang term for an agent without a gun is "dead", and Yeong-Suk would much rather be alive than dead.

The North Korean gracefully but briskly strolled out of the hotel room that she was staying at. Unfortunately, a call back to Pyongyang severely delayed her morning plans, and she was running a bit late to the start of the tournament. All to tell her essentially that the only thing they had for her in regards for a target was a moniker: "O Robô"-- The robot. Either intelligence is acting very incompetently, or central is intentionally holding information as some sort of weird test. At this point, she wasn't really too worried at this point. There was plenty of time to sort out this mess later, all she needed to focus on is winning this tournament. And she needed to get there as quick as possible, too!

Yeong-Suk could call for a cab, but she knew that wouldn't be a good idea. The ravenette was hastily taught basic Portuguese phrases right before depature; she wasn't trusting any cabbie to not rip off this tiny Asian foreigner in weird clothes. Or even worse, bring her to some completely random place on the other side of town because she slurred the wrong word. No, it was better off to go by foot, and she needed to get to the arena yesterday.

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What seemed like an eternity of hurried walking and dodging cars later, Yeong-Suk finally reached the grey stone stadium. The samba dancers have since cleared; likely they were about to watch the fights themselves, or at least entertain the people inside the stadium. The North Korean took a few seconds to readjust her uniform (her handlers demanded she looked immaculate for the cameras; likely they were going to make propaganda back home starring her), before walking in.

Yeong-Suk walked up to a bored looking receptionist, clearly not happy with her job.

"O que você quer?" she said in a monotone drag.

"I'm Chung Yeong-Suk," the ravenette said, in a heavily Korean-accented Portuguese. "I'm here for my fight."

"Oh," the receptionist said in the same monotone, before her eyes widened at a sudden realization. She hurridely dialed a number on a cell phone and talked in an excited Portuguese so fast that Yeong-Suk had no hope of following. A few seconds later, the receptionist said, in English to the ravenette's relief

"Just on time. Arena 7. Get there now."

Yeong-Suk didn't need to be told twice. By the time she was able to take her place, the announcer was already introducing the fight from a central location. Did anyone even notice that she wasn't there? Doesn't matter; she had a job to do, and that job was defeating whatever foe was in her way. Anything else was completely frivolous.

The actual stage was completely barren. Nothing but dirt separated Yeong-Suk and her opponent. She stared at the woman in front of her, who was clearly not dressed to fight in any capacity. She let her Cheongug-ui Nun get to work, trying to view how powerful the person in front of her was. However, to Yeong-Suk's shock, she wasn't detecting any ki from the woman in front of her, not even the trace amount that most people radiate. Either this individual found a way to suppress their ki, or else she's-

"A robot..." Yeong-Suk quietly muttered.

Immediately after this accusation, a powerful GO punctuated the crowd. Not wishing to waste any time, the Korean woman quickly did a roundhouse kick in place, using her ki to fire off a sickle-shaped blast towards the oppossing woman. For now, the plan was the same as it was in training: use ki in place of her height. An individual who is displaying no ki is obviously not normal. She wasn't going to approach this thing until she knew exactly its capabilities were.

[Holy Soldier]

Location: Lobby to Desert Arena

@Mr Allen J

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Desert Arena Visual

Click Big Image Didn't Feel Like Shrinking it

Velvet released her leg, unfolding it like a knife, as she sat upwards to listen to Jaden’s proclamation. She sat there on her knees, peering up at him as though he were telling her a story. When he then gave her a prospective job offer to be seen in one of his rap videos, the Russian arched a brow before she broke into laughter. She raised her hand to her mouth in a lousy attempt to stifle the mirth that caused her to nearly hunch over with weakness. Velvet rose to her feet still laughing and left the poor swordsman without an answer as she headed for the locker room. Her next match was coming up, and entertaining the young rapper was the last thing…well…it actually wasn’t even on her to-do list.

The artificial sun that hung over the arena was just as unforgiving as a beating. The air felt like a blow dryer and the sand was scorching. Velvet had to wrap her feet in preparation and don some sunscreen. The arena hadn’t been her most favorite environment. She had actually liked the pool and the heat was making her miss it. It seemed in this environment, fighters would either lose from the beating or lose to the heat.

“Боже мой (Boje moy/Oh my God),” Velvet gasped. Already sweat was collecting on her brow and glistening off her creamy curves. As Velvet approached her opponent, she raised her wrist to her lips and bit the purple hairband. Drawing it from about her wrist, she gathered it in her fingers as she started to round up her long auburn mane. She tied her hair into a bun that sat atop her head and lowered her hands, her arms naturally swaying to her rocking stride.

From behind her amethyst mask, blue eyes observed and studied Brooke as her red pouty lips remained quirked into an intrigued smile. Her opponent greeted her:

Hey! I’m Brooke! Pleased to meet ya!

She seemed like a nice girl. Velvet took her hand and her grip was natural at first.

Know we don’t have a whole lotta time, but may the best woman win!

Her grip became firm then not to an uncomfortable level but just to emphasize what she next said:

“I will enjoy breakink’ you, девушка (Dey-voo-sh-ka/Girl).” She had said it so casually before she released the girl’s hand. The Russian was clearly picking a fight but that was what Russian’s did. She wanted her opponent to come at her with all she had for it only made the match entertaining. After the shake and biting words, Velvet turned to leisurely walk over to her side of the arena. As she walked, she peered down at the sand at her feet, still wearing a smile. Adam had better show himself soon. She hated this match. Velvet turned to face her opponent across the way. The quicker she finished the fight, then the quicker she could get out of such an uncomfortable environment.

Go!

The cue to start the fight was given. Velvet leaned forward, lunging into a sprint. Her wrapped toes gave her traction in the slippery hot sand and her hands rose to grasp ahold of her swinging and jostling melons. Gripping them, she held them up just beneath her chest as she charged her opponent, which to Brooke probably looked rather…wrong or extremely perverted. Velvet was biting her bottom lip in a partial grin as she closed the distance between them. When she was a meter and a half away from the girl, she clapped her two flesh orbs together and a powerful eruption of sound fired from them to ripple the very air.

Velvet sought to disorient Brooke before she would follow through her assault with a hip whip to her right hip. She planned on bringing her strong hip crashing against Brooke’s with every intention to break or handicap her.

[KremeSupreme]

VS.

Background

Jeremy nodded to his opponent, and presumed his own stance. For the first few seconds, neither of them so much as twitched. Jeremy started to clear his throat, "I can sense that you are not entirely human. You have several mechanics directly implanted into your body." The strange man prodded into Justin... but, he knew that it was nothing more than an attempt to get under his skin (Er, metal). He shook his head.
"Humanity is subjective, bub," Justin replied as he put both of his fists together. "Now, are we going to fight, or discuss philosophy, huh? Because I know a nice starbucks..."

Jeremy nodded. "I was not attempting to prod to humanity." Suddenly, he lunged forward and made a swift knee towards Justin's chest. He waited for the man to attempt to block or dodge, and then raised his tail and stretched it outward, hoping to curve and coil around his opponent. Justin was quick on his feet, and this machine was practically telegraphed. He put both hands out, and caught the blow. Metal clashed with metal in an impressive display that caused the crowd to go "Oooooh!" out of excitement. However, Justin was barely prepared for the tail he was worried so much about earlier. It wrapped around him, and he let out a sharp exhale of air out of surprise.

Back in the HQ, The entire team micromanaging every emotion SYM-04 felt, as well as sending commands to be fulfilled. "Remember team, we're showing something off here. Don't want the fight to end too early, do we?" The Boss said, sipping from the fourth mug in one day. At the fight, Jeremy's tail loosened lightly, just enough for Justin to break loose without feeling like Jeremy was going easy on him.

Well, looks like it was time to show this monster the most important thing he was lacking: a heart.

Machinery in Justin's arms opened up to reveal the subwoofers in his palms, elbows, and shoulders. At will, a wave of blue sound came flying out in all directions, breaking Jeremy's grip on him, and probably stunning him. In the instant he was stunned, Justin landed on a knee, and slammed a palm onto the ground to hold himself up. He caught eye of Jeremy, and launched himself towards him. He swung outwards with a ki-infused kick that glowed a bright blue color towards his sides. Just when Jeremy came to his proper senses, the kick slammed into his side. Jeremy tumbled to the ground, but quickly recovered once his palms touched the ground. He swung around back onto his feet, and took a receding stance. His tail finally reeled itself back in. Once it did, it pointed itself right at Jeremy's chest.

"I must say, that attack dealt significant damage to my side. I might need to take a moment to refresh... Mind if I..." Suddenly, Jeremy's tail lunged straight outwards to Justin's chest. The stinger extended as it closed in on Justin.

Now just sounds like a bad anime villain. While he was talking, Justin was focused on the fight. His subwoofer systems still active, he was about to fire a Beat-Pulse, but the stinger caught him off guard. Hitting Justin square in his core. Fortunately his chest, and glowing core is extra armored... and unfortunately, Jeremy was much stronger than he thought. He grabbed onto the stringer tightly, and tried to pull it out, but it was stuck. With Jeremy pushing it in harder than he could get it out.

"Borrow some?" Jeremy finished.

Justin's felt a powerful pang of pain, once Jeremy's tail began to drain Ki into his own body. After three seconds, his tail receded and returned to it's normal position. "There we go." Justin commented, as he examined his arms closely and flexed his hands.

"Now then..." Suddenly, Jeremy's entire body burned with blue flame, similar to Justin's, before turning white. "Shall we?!" Jeremy's constantly calm voice strained as he lunged with extreme speed towards Justin. Jeremy threw jab after jab at Justin, before performing a combo of a knee to the chest, and elbow to the head, and an overhead bash, finishing with a Powerful shoulder against Justin's body.

Justin felt much weaker all of the sudden... this bastard did something to him. With every blow, he could feel a brand new strength surge through his opponent. His armor was getting damaged and dented. Worst of all, he wouldn't shut up. However, at the last blow, Justin had enough. He sidestepped the shoulder, and shoved Jeremy aside with all his strength. In an instant, he deployed his subwoofer technology, and pointed it straight at Jeremy.

"Get off!" Justin shouted.

He fired a concentrated blue blast of ki converted into sound right at his body.

The massive wave of Ki rammed against Jeremy, which sent him frolling along the grounds towards the edge of the arena. Right before he fell into the abyss of defeat, Jeremy stabbed his tail into the ground, breaking through the hard tiles. It pulled along him as he rolled, but ultimately prevented him from falling over. Jeremy stood back up, with his tail hanging still floppy, over fifteen feet long, it's maximum length.

"That was indeed an impressive move. Would you like to see mine?" Jeremy offered.

Jeremy raced towards his opponent once more, both of his fists clenched. He jumped into the air,and held his hands into an overhead bash, similar to the one he used in his Ki surge, but high up and building speed as it returned to the ground, aimed right at Justin.

Heh, too easy. Justin thought to himself as he smirked. Both of his legs were charged with ki, and started glowing brightly, as he kicked his leg upwards in an arc - a blade of sort. Leaving behind a glowing trail reminiscent of a scythe. "Sonic-Scythe!" Justin loudly shouted as he clashed with Jeremy ki-to-ki.

Perfect. Jeremy grappled Justin's Ki-infused legs, gripping them tight despite the chaotic damage it did to his hands, tearing off specs of his armor. "Just to let you know, this wasn't my Strongest Move", he informed. Suddenly, SYM-04's tail, which had dangled the entire time he performed his attack, was pointed directly at Justin, the tip glowing a bright white twinkle. "If we are to perform the same customs, then "Ion Cannon"." Jeremy almost sounded uninterested as a wave of Ion energy shot from his tail in a wide column, heading straight towards Jeremy and Justin, who was currently grappled by his legs.

Despite his best efforts, Justin couldn't do much more than shoot a few Sonic Beats at Jeremy. However, it was too late, the Ion Cannon hit Justin with such force that it sent him flying out of Jeremy's hands. A part of him wanted to use Beat-Pulse, but he didn't have enough strength. The attack had already launched him out of bounds.

"K-O!" Andre shouted, full of excitement as the crowd seemed to be more disturbed - even though Andre tried to rile them up. "Alright folks, it seems that Jeremy Halvit is moving up to the main event! Give him a clap ladies and gentlemen!"

Some members of the crowd awkwardly clapped.

Justin rolled onto his hands and feet, and pounded the ground with a fist as he hissed, "Damn it!"

Looks like it's up to Seven-Seven....

Jeremy twirled in air as his tail reeled back in, once he landed on his feet. An entire team of scientists swarmed up to him and began measuring all over his body. They then followed him as he walked out of the main door, one of them veering off to keep away an eager Interviewer, simply commenting "Mr. Halvit requires immediate attention, due to damage during the fight" To the disappointed girl.

[Punished GN]

---

_{@Holy Soldier}

---

---

Ooooh, she's Russian.

Brooke immediately could tell from the accent. Though, she kind of looked and sounded like some shitty James Bond villain shoehorned in for the sex-factor. Oh well, if she thought she'll distract Brooke of all people... then, that'd be her first mistake of many!

When she shook Velvet's hand, the latter had a little taunt!

I will enjoy breakink’ you, девушка.”

And Brooke had to raise an eyebrow because the last word was a mystery to her (It could have meant friendly, or could be calling her a cunt in Russian, who knew). But, it was some good ol' fashioned trash talking! Brooke merely smiled as she fired back, slapping a hand on her chest loudly.

"Good thing I don't break," Brooklyn started off, shrugging. "You on the other hand? Maybe after I slam you into the ground a few times, we'll see." She grinned.

When the fighting began, Brooke dropped into stance. A wide stance in which she had her left leg up, and her right leg back. Wide as it was long. She had both hands up to face level, her hands opened, ready to grapple. She kept her eyes on the busty vixen... Then it got freaky.

Really freaky.

The woman started... groping herself. Brooke raised an eyebrow, as she winced a little bit.

"Lady!" Brooke pleaded, "It ain't that kind of fight!"

However, the woman rushed forward towards Brooke, and she tightened her stance a bit. Brooke fully intended on tanking whatever this woman had thrown at her... but, she didn't expect her to slap her titties together. It created a shockwave that Brooke was barely prepared to take the ranged attack as she was blown back a little bit. Okay, who the hell arranged this tournament? Who let these people join?!

The woman followed it up with a strike from her hip... However, she took Brooke for some jobber if she thought this basic shit was going to work. She put her hands out, and put her hands on both sides of Velvet's hip (Which looked really inappropriate from an outsider perspective). She stopped her attack with her sheer strength, but it sure as hell hurt her hands. Lady must have extra muscles in her ass, because her fingers felt like they were on fire. That was the power of the Vanburen-style! Promising a defense against all harm! Even these weird sexual attacks!

Stopping the woman's attack was easy, but what she didn't realize was that she was now playing by Brooke's terms. Which meant she was the winner! She did the first thing that came to mind: she threw a punch at Velvet's face. She hated to bruise such a pretty face, but this girl needed some sense knocked into her!

Nobody can be this freaky.

---

_@Megsychan

---

---

The man dodged her questions... which was a huge red flag for Seven-Seven. As much as she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt... why was the suit designed to be so frightening in appearance? Maybe for intimidation purposes, but there was still that underlying question of why he would be anywhere near here. Seven-Seven decided against questioning, as the fights were about to begin!

Seven-Seven separated from Justin (Who was going to fight Jeremy - she'd love to hear how that went), as she chose to focus on the task ahead. That was what her systems told her to do. Stepping down the stairs into the massive stage in which the battle was going to take place. On the other side was a small Asian woman who wore a rather frightening uniform. She looked like a soldier of some kind. Much smaller than Seven-Seven, however.

And how did Seven-Seven react to her?

With a dopey smile, as her eyes glew an electronic blue color.

The woman muttered something underneath her breath, and thanks to Seven-Seven's superior hearing, she managed to hear it. She laughed a little, which may have thrown Chung off, but her intentions were more innocent.

"That is correct." Seven-Seven said, rather casually. "One-hundred percent machine."

She put her fingers to her mouth, as she cheerfully said, "The fight is going to begin soon, may the best woman win." She threw up double peace signs as Andre signalled everyone to go, and this woman threw a kick followed by a wave of ki. So, she had some form of ki manipulation. Simple, but Seven-Seven was going to do what she did best.

Whittle down defenses, of course!

Her right arm transformed into a strange glowing laser-gun, with several layers opening up. Seven-Seven rolled onto her knee, as the cannon created a large orb of pure energy. Right as the ki wave got close, the orb reached full size, and slowly traveled forward. The orb and the ki clashed with each other, and cancelled each other out.

Oh! That went splendidly! Perhaps it was time to test her speed!

After all, she still had her plasma cannon ready. She aimed it towards Chung, and fired a small orb of plasma, followed by two more. They each were aimed in her general direction, than directly at her in an attempt to lead a shot.

[Savo]

VERSUS

---

---

Welp, that was it for him he guessed... great timing which failed to kill off any, if not all of his suspicion in regards to piece of equipment. Jonas was legitimately thrilled to hear the minx pursue his question as he cracked a slightly larger smile for that singular moment... though, he did ponder on what that lady meant about how "Horizon Frontier" sounded amazing since she had legitimately never heard of it before.

These things ran through his head, replaying as the droves of competitors began their mad rush to the arena, all while Jonas was completely taking his time. Did she mean the name, or something more? Was the tin man with a spiky as hell tail really to be trusted?...

Yeah, that was obvious already.

A woman bumped past him, Jonas was brought out of his train of thoughts as the torrent began rushing and dragging him closer towards the battleground. Other thoughts began to invade as he pulled out some string from his bag and began wrapping it in a certain way around the handle of his knife...

...

...

And before he knew it, the whole stadium came into view... huh, this was a bit different he guessed. The stages about had different cosmetics, sure, but he was fairly certain there was more to them all. An ice stage? A stage that seemed to invoke characterizations of Rio's urbanization?

Seriously, how much money did this take to set up? There was like, a lo- why did that one stage have spikes at the bottom with a net to catch people on?

Yeah, that's a horrible fucking design already!

Ugh, please, pleeeeeaaaase don't let him fight on that stage.

Looking around, he saw the names of the contenders on the screen... and wow. He was plenty certain that there were more challengers than he expected. Yeah, this was gonna be a while, so mitigation of damage and skills, ho!

Along with that, there was the stage name they would brawl on... what was this, some fighting game or something? Eh, whatevs, he just knew he was on a stage with water (good, great).

Walking past others, he tried to spot the weirdo, the minx, and Otsana, but everyone was so spread out and blocked in for him that it would be nigh impossible to spot any of em'... so much for that.

As he stepped onto the stage, he found himself face to face with a similar black woman with a very taut body, moreso than him - that girl who wrecked that other punk before he could even land himself in the arena. Blinking, he tilted his head to the side, stifling a yawn as the woman... tried to trash talk him?

He wasn't exactly sure.

"Hey, how do you think we get so many patients," he cracked back with an affable smile, pointing directly at her as he chuckled. She seemed a bit on edge - did something happen? Eh, not important right now, focus on the subject of the water below...

...

... and with that short exchange, everything was seemingly set to go as the man gave one thunderous go.

In an instant... hm, the woman didn't waste any time did she? Rushing forward like a bull... was he wearing red? No? Green, the usual, right.

Throwing down two knives from his coat behind him, they both punctured the ground as he took a defensive stance and threw four knives at once at the lady, half of them doomed to possibly make contact with the rock solid arm, the other two others maybe impaling her left thigh and left leg.

The ki powered knifes pierced Brenda as expected... but much like a raging bull, it barely even phased her. Probably made her even angrier. Her grit her teeth as she ignored the pain. Deciding not to make the same mistake that she made in the earlier confrontation. She punched the ground hard as she could, and a cascading wave of stone spikes came out rushing towards Jonas. While she used the opportunity to close the distance on Jonas as a zoning technique.

So, some adjustments were to be made; expected, but he could guess the fight wouldn't be that easy now... that was a relief. As that wave of spikes shot forward, Jonas dove away to the side, a tinge closer to the edge than before. He took a quick survey as he threw two more knives behind him with his left, not minding that the two other knives had popped out of the ground already.

Huh, regardless she was coming in fast... and by fast, it was like a cheetah sprinting to pounce on a gazelle! Yeesh!... maybe he could charge her when stitching those wounds up? As he slowly stood up, he nonchalantly gazed to the side with her coming in hot. Briskly, he fumbled around in his bag, displaying a terrified visage as he rushed to find something to utilize against her.

Pfft... so many idiots relying on tricks rather than some good old fisticuffs. Just like she said... everyone has a gimmick, but it seems no one knows how to use 'em. If he had just decided to fight her straight up, he could have stopped her by now. Well, seems to be an easy fight for Brenda.

She tightened her fists, and then let out a sharp huff as she threw a series of four punches at Jonas. Her fists coated in stone, this was her rock breaker move. With each strike so strong that not even stone could stand up against it.

Ok, that wasn't what he was expecting as he retrieved his hand from his bag... and FUCK, THIS ACTUALLY HURT LIKE A BITCH! Jonas could only bare his teeth as he tried to hold back the pain, wincing as he looked for an opening... opening... and there it was! With her wasting that little amount of time gave leeway for Jonas to recover a bit...

... and use his superior speed to grab onto her as she began to lead in with her rocky fists. Jonas shifted her weight forward even more, all while stepping to the side. With her momentum increased she would definitely trip over his trap and fall off the stage... but just to be sure, as he "helped" her, he gave a strong shove with his right hand in the midst of it all to keep Brenda going.

However, Brenda wasn't going over that easily. In her momentum, she pounded her fist against the ground, and summoned stone around it to stop her from falling over the edge. She grit her teeth as she looked at Jonas.

"Have to try better than that, pretty boy." She taunted.

She hopped up to her feet, and her fist was coated in a burning magma as she charged Jonas with her fist extended.

Despite the fact it didn't work, Jonas couldn't help but crack somewhat of a smile as she lunged forward. This strong gal wasn't going to make it easy, her own move told him that much... Drawing some knives, he rolled... directly toward her.

Going right by her side that did not have the magma fist, he positioned himself onto the... very unstable rock. Standing straight up he stamped on the earthen ground before throwing a knife at her right leg... sadly enough, it would most likely miss, considering the trajectory he threw it at.

"Come on..."

Because of the angle he threw it at, it was easy for Brenda to reach over and catch it. She held the knife for a moment, saying, "Nice knife." Before she bit down on it, and snapped it in half. She threw the remains to the ground, before she hopped up into the air. Coming down on Jonas like a meteor. Surrounded in red hot flames, it was a sight to behold.

Ok, he was a little pissed. Not by the fact that she decided to show off, but SHE BROKE ONE OF HIS FUCKING KNIVES! Those things costed money and resources to buy! They don't come cheeeaaa- oh, right, his move... that wasn't going to work as she jumped into the air and began her descent.

So, only a few opti- yeah the first one is frickin' stupid. She's in the air, coming down on a weakened piece of stone that would probably break the moment she smashed it. So he took this opportunity to just... wait, why wasn't he running forward? Why is he stabbing the slab? WAIT, WHY IS HE QUICKLY JUMPING OFF?!

As he launched himself off the unstable slab, he took one look back as a glint of steel pierced the side of the stage as he began his own descent as well.

Brenda hit the ground, and her fist hit the ground so hard that it left a miniature crater in the platform. Jonas' plan wasn't as successful as he hoped, as it was still in one piece, and Brenda was still standing on the platform. She just shook her head... just like she said... these losers have no talent. They don't belong here in the world of Nomads. So, she was just going to make this a clarion call he won't ever forget.

He needs to go home.

Brenda looked at the slab, and grabbed onto it. She threw a piece it up into the air, and punched it hard as she could. It turned into a hail of stone rocks that went flying towards Jonas.

Well, looks like she wasn't the type to gloat... but at least his knife was still wedged there and she was within his trap!... again... probably, as her foot was right behind the knife. Even as he saw the rocks, he wasn't at all worried as Jonas started traveling in an brisk arc upwards, narrowly avoiding the projectiles. As he stopped extending both strings once he began his ascent, he was certain this could be it... possibly.

Letting go of the string from his previous knife, Jonas quickly pulled his other string as he shot up a few feet higher than the platform. In those same moments, the multiple layered circle he left snared Brenda's leg, tightening as he began to fall once more. As he was nearing the platform, he jammed another knife into the side as he tugged the line to try and drag the woman overboard.

However, even with Jonas's attempts to pull her off, Brenda still embodied the stone. And stones are hard to move. She quickly punched the ground full force, and the stone embedded her deep into the ground. It would be hard for Jonas to pull her off, not without trying very hard. Nonetheless, Brenda's objective for now was to get free of this shit. Which she raised her fist, she surrounded her arm in stone, forming it into a blade of sorts. She swung her arm around wildly trying to get free of the strings - while also keeping an eye on Jonas. Just in case he got cocky.

Trying to find where you're caught eh? She wasn't stupid, he could tell it in her eyes... but frantically waving around to try and cut some string around her leg... hmm... that knife was wedged in there pretty good...

Swinging himself up from his former position, he didn't bother with displaying any acrobatic skills as he just shot up at the required amount to land on his two feet. Since she was watching intensely, why not give her something else to look at?

Drawing five knives from his sleeve, Jonas didn't waste any time tossing them at the lady. While largely inaccurate, he made certain that two of them would fly directly at her torso. Now all he needed to do was wait as he stood there, completely immobilized. He didn't bother smiling or giving any display of emotion, being just as this woman's powers - stone.

Brenda wondered if he had any tricks up his sleeve other than knives. Good thing she kept her eye on her opponent rather than focusing entirely on getting out of his snare. Or else this would have ended badly for her. She used her stone bladed arm to parry one of the blades - but she missed the other, and felt the ki infused blade impale her in the chest. She let out a groan, as she was quick to rip out the knife, and leave it on the ground. Before turning her attention to Jonas, she quickly punched the ground and sent out a wave of stone spikes behind his feet so he'll trip over it. Or at least distract him for a moment.

Wait, she just punched the ground in front of her... and there was nothing in front of him that actually appeared... Was she planning her own traps? Was it an attack from behind? There was only one way to be certain as Jonas glimpsed behind him... to find an almost similar wave of ground rumbling towards him. This... it didn't matter, he just needed to do one thing.

Jump and stick the landing on the broken up parts of the stage.

Leaping upwards, he nearly averted getting launched up like his knives. In the grand scheme of things, she wasted time trying to throw him off as he yanked his left hand back just a little. Those knives that completely missed? They almost seemed to stop as they began arcing around the rough and tumble woman, wrapping her and a part of her stone arm up.

As he slowly balanced himself on the crumbling infrastructure, he gave one final yank to tighten it all together; it didn't matter whether or not the knives impaled her as The Doctor left nothing unchecked, save for that one arm that was plunged into the ground.

Well, looked like that didn't work... damn it. Brenda was running out of options here. She was getting wrapped up in whatever the hell this bastard was doing. The platform was falling apart, and all Brenda could think of was something. The stone arm she had turned into molten hot magma as the strings were burned. She detached it from the group, as she covered her body in more magma. Burning the strings. She whipped around towards Jonas, and grit her teeth

Hmph, that blew his scheme to smithereens, but he could adapt; it wasn't the end just yet... if he could keep her on that platform whilst doing enough damage to it... yes, yes that was it. While she was distracted flailing around and consuming the string with that fiery passion known as her arm, Jonas decided to close the distance, taking to the offensive as he ran straight at her, fist clenched as he readied to strike her. He struck her with a cocky smile as he neared her, almost as if this was the final decisive strike.

Brenda knew that Jonas was crafty... if he was running directly at her like this, he might had cooked up a plan in that brain of his. She wasn't going to fool around anymore.

"I'm going to finish this!" Brenda shouted as she pumped her fist in the air. In a brief moment, it flashed with red hot heat - a heat like no other. Before she swung her fist directly at him, charging forward. But, this time, it was different. Her whole body was hot (without burning any of her clothes!), she was like a meteor. She had the sheer intensity and rage of one, rushing directly at him.

"EARTHQUAKE!" Brenda shouted.

As he ran directly at her, Jonas had a hand inside the confines of his satchel. Whether or not she could ki sense, he wasn't going to take the chance right now. Besides, at this point, most people were too engrossed in their fights at this point, so it wouldn't hurt to give one last display...

Also, shouting that you're going to finish this and your next move is a pretty stupid idea... not the most strategically sound plan, but it made things a little easier for the doctor.

"Time to get Rib Caged," he shouted back as he ran, extending his punching hand out... only to up and throw dust directly into her eyes, blinding the woman... and in his other hand, he left behind a nice little present - a ki-infused recorder which taunted the young woman the woman as it was tossed right by the edge of the platform.

"Ugh, you've made this so easy that I think I'm getting worse."

With that all said and done, Jonas made sure to just roll to the side and stood straight up as he gave a half-hearted frown to his opponent.

"D-Damn it!" Brenda hissed as she flew over the edge, cursing her rashness. She fell into the water, which loudly hissed with steam as her heat was counteracted. Ugh, she hated water. She floated to the top, loudly groaning as she looked at Jonas standing all high and mighty over her.

Standing over the edge, Jonas knelt down to retrieve one of his knives that were deeply embedded into the damaged infrastructure. He was mumbling with irritation as he cursed over the corpse of one of his broken knives. Ugh, people had no respect for property, did they? Drawing the knife out, he took notice over the woman below and how she just... lay there.

"Say Brenda, when you were on fire, did yo-"

"K-O!" Not a second too late, Jonas shivered a little from the screech emanating from that announcer. "After that amazing diagnosis, looks like the enigmatic Doctor will be moving onto the main event!" Jonas rolled his eyes as some of the crowd gave a variety of claps, ranging in enthusiasm to just plain forced... honestly wouldn't surprise him if most of em' were disappointed to watch this strapping young lady lose to him...

... especially since he played edge games; Jonas rapped his lips as he glanced over at the glimmering water, wondering how many fans or people putting bets would try to get him d/q'd for that? But still, there were more important matters to deal with as he continued to retrieve the intact knives on the platform.

Brenda swam out the water and chose to sit on a bench, thinking on her actions. Shaking her head because she failed to win the first round. If she was going to find her brother, she needed to fight better than that shameful display. Ugh. She had to find another way to raise money for her world spanning journey. Some odd jobs, perhaps?

Oh yeah, he still had to ask how her injuries were fairing.

As he yanked out the knife that was impaled in the rock, Jonas yawned and stretched before descending to the ground floor. Breaking into a light jog, he went over to see how Miss Brawnz was acting up right now... hmm...

Jonas digressed; maybe if he acted benign towards her, he could form a reasonable prognosis over whether or not he should attempt recruiting her... he did need able-bodied nomads after all.

"Oy, Brenda, how are your wounds?"

The man approached her, and she looked up at him. He asked her about her wounds. She shook her head. She had no ill will against the man for winning. When it was her fault for losing. She just shrugged. Brenda slapped a hand on her chest.

"Me? I'm hard as stone," Brenda said as she looked at him. "You won't have to worry about me anytime soon, Doctor."

She nodded her head.

"Besides... I don't have the money, or the time for a checkup...."

Oh? She lacked funds? Was that a blessing or a curse to Jonas, well, he would have to prod her even further now to understand this situation fully. Would he really want a person who couldn't pay for themselves completely weighing him and possibly Otsana down? Or could this be used as leverage for him in his quest. Jonas crossed his arms as he cocked his head back and forth.

"Hmm, sounds like you were placing all your chips on getting past this first part of the tourney," Jonas rapped the side of his uniform as he hummed, staring directly at the black lady.

"... why d'you need the mo-"

Jonas winked and winced a little as Andre gave another announcement over the next fighter who bit the dust, with the roars of the crowds pervading both their ears. Yeah, not the best place to be to take advantage of a possibly sound circumstance.

"Ugh, screw this noisy place! Ey', mind walking and talking?! I want to ask you a couple of things!"

[Megsychan]

---

---

---

Yeong-Suk didn't know how to react to her counterpart's.... eccentricies. Not only could she make make out Yeong-Suk's whisper through the roar of a crowd (Don't think out loud in this fight!), but she seems so casual about being in a combat situation, giggling and throwing peace signs. Was the robot mocking her? Did it have some trick up its sleeve? And what the hell was with the warning Pyongang gave her before the fight, about "the robot"? Was she the target that they wanted her to scrap? Or did she have a key to whatever she was ultimately hunting for?

Doesn't matter, the ravenette though to herself as she rushed ki to the soles of her shoes. Thinking too much on trivial things was a good way to get yourself killed; she had a target, and all she had to do was win. She could always scrap the robot later if it ends up that she needs to; given how bad it evidently was at hiding its true identity, it wouldn't be too hard to track down. As the robot continued to fire more and more plasma at Yeong-Suk, she responded by dashing side to side, with the speed of the mythical white deer. The blasts harmlessly flew by the Asian woman as she weaved through each shot, too quick to properly lead into.

"Oh?" Seven-Seven thought out loud as she saw the woman use the speed of a cheetah to dodge her blasts. Even though she lead them! Which meant that Seven-Seven would have to use something faster. The plasma cannon transformed back into a normal arm.

When an opportunity presented itself, Yeong-Suk dissipated her ki by stomping hard in the ground, creating a fissure in which jagged rocks erupted from in a straight line towards Seven-Seven. The rocks barreling towards Seven-Seven from Queen Baji's Fury not only served as an answer to the ranged attacks by the machine, but it also gave Yeong-Suk temporary cover from further blasts, exactly what the North Korean needed. If Seven-Seven has more weaponry like the which she was firing at her, Yeong-Suk needed some time to figure out how to close the distance without getting hit, as there was no way to tire out a robot from range. Even in her own confidence of her own ability, Yeong-Suk knew it was physically impossible to keep up with a robot forever.

While it was true that Seven-Seven's stamina was limitless, being a machine, she knew that her body wasn't all that durable. It couldn't take a solid blow without needing many repairs... so, she had to keep away from the woman at all costs. Because close range was not her specialty. Her lower body underwent a transformation. One that was quick. In one moment she had legs, and in another, her legs were jets. She quickly flew to the side, not going that far off the ground, before her lower body transformed back. However, she had to come up with a plan before it was too late.

What the hell, Yeong-Suk internally cursed as the robot effortlessly flew over her attack, that thing can fly?. Nothing in her training prepared her for this situation, and given that most of her ki manipulation relied on using the earth as a weapon, there was little she could do at range given this new infomation. She was just going to have to risk it and just rush in, while the robot was seemingly still recovering from transforming its body back. With all of her energy, the ravenette dashed towards her opponent, before leaping into the air with her feet in the motion of a jumping roundhouse kick. Even if she missed, that should hopefully clear most of the distance between the two.

Seven-Seven expected an all out attack like this - after all, she looked smart enough to piece two and two together and realize that ki blasts aren't going to work. However, Seven-Seven couldn't quickboost as often as she wanted to (she was still in that cooldown time). The only thing that came to mind was putting up both of her arms to block the roundhouse, the devastating kick impacted her forearms, and sent her back a little bit. She could feel the machinery in her arms shaking! This was not a pleasant feeling, she needed to get away! The first thing Seven-Seven did was transform her legs into jump-jets away, and immediately propel herself away from the woman.

Yeong-Suk was not going to let the robot get away from her that easily. She had to force Seven-Seven to stay as close if she had any chance to win this fight. Yeong-Suk did the first thing that came to her mind; she leaped again, this time with no leg extended. Instead, she tried to grab onto the robot's chest from the rear, and hold on to dear life. She was small enough that she could probably get away with it, and Yeong-Suk could just kick her from that position, as awkward as it would probably be. It would be fairly hard to kick Seven-Seven since quickboost came to an end, and then the two crashed to the ground - hard. Since Seven-Seven's trip was interrupted, she couldn't land with grace. Instead, she came rolling across the stage floor with her guest riding along with her.

"... I would appreciate it if you stopped grabbing me there." Seven-Seven groaned.

Yeong-Suk didn't respond. She just decided to throw a knife chop at Seven-Seven's face as she protested the prior grip she had on the robot. Anything was fair in combat; no one won a fight by being nice.

Well, at least Chung let go of one of them, but she could only take the full force chop to the face. Many of her systems flashed bright red, and Seven-Seven gasped in pain just as she was programmed to. She really needed to get out of this by any means necessary, as these kinds of encounters weren't her specialty. Fortunately, she had an idea. She bent her knee as far as it would go, pressing her foot against the ground. Only that leg transformed into a thruster as it left a large scorch mark against the ground that allowed Seven-Seven to reverse the grapple. She landed on top of the woman, and made sure to take advantage of her surprise to hop off her - while also deploying the machine gun in her shoulder.

Yeong-Suk's eyes widened as Seven-Seven turned the situation completely around on her. In one second, she was holding the woman and smashing her face with her hands, and on the next, she was on the ground, the robot aiming a machine gun right at her face! What kind of fucking tournament lets people bring in fucking guns, she furiously protested in her mind as she instictinvely reached for the inside of her jacket. She was hoping that it didn't have to resort to this, but nope, she wasn't going to mess around with martial arts when someone was pointing a gun at her face. She quickly pulled out her pistol, clicking the saftey off in one quick movement. She only brough one magazine-the one already in the gun-with her, so she was going to have to make every shot count. Pointing the gun at Seven-Seven's face, she pulled the trigger.

Seven-Seven did her best to stay out of the woman's line of fire, but wasn't fast enough to dodge the bullet. When it came flying through the air, it pierced through the side of Seven-Seven's face. Leaving machinery and electronics exposes as sparks flew. Seven-Seven cried, as she returned fire against the woman, letting out a volley of bullets.

As Yeong-Suk hadn't moved since being thrown on the ground, hitting her with the machine gun's blast wasn't all that difficult. Although Chung's natural ki level helped her resist what would have been a lethal volley to a regular indiviual, it was clear that the Asian woman was not taking the blast all that well. She groaned, almost even screamed, as her body was pelted with lead. It was impossible to hold the gun steady or even get up as she was being bombarded; the pain itself made her waver too much, let alone the actual hailstorm of bullets. Instead, Yeong-Suk threw the gun itself at Seven-Seven, hopefully distracting the robot enough to let a ki enfused foot crash into the ground: attempting yet another Queen Baji's Fury.

SELF REPAIR MODULE INITIATED.

The words flashed before Seven-Seven's eyes, and she knew that it would be useless in the present fight. She didn't have access to a fancy regeneration like some Nomads, but this would help in the long run. It would be helpful if she didn't get hit again. The machinegun retreated back into her shoulder. She kept her eyes on the woman as she quick-boosted backwards to build distance with the woman, her right arm turning into a rocket launcher as she entered her comfort zone. Firing a rocket at the wave of stone that blasted it apart, Seven-Seven sighed in relief as she realized she had the advantage again.

The stones gave Yeong-Suk the moment she needed to get back on her feet. She quickly returned back to her fighting stance, more sloppy in stature compared to the beginning of the fight. Being attacked at point blank took a toll on her frail body; another solid hit like that.... no, Chung wasn't going to let herself even consider losing in the preliminaries. She had no more gun, which she would have really liked right now to just shoot the damn android and end the fight already. The small woman sighed as she reactived her Baegsases-ui Bal. She once again sprinted right towards Seven-Seven, using her speed to hopefully close the distance before the robot could respond. Yeong-Suk lunged at Seven-Seven, hoping to just tackle the robot to the ground yet again, where she could just wail on the aritifcal woman once more.

This was too easy for the robotgirl. All Chung did was play into her hands... and the same trick never works twice. Seven-Seven aimed a rocket at the ground in front of Chung, and fired it. Creating an explosion right in her face that would hopefully launch her in the air.

A missile flew towards Yeong-Suk, fired from almost close blank range. At the speed she was going, there really wasn't much reaction time for the Asian woman to react to. Using the momentum from her superhuman running, she jumped as far as she could. She landed on the missile for a split second, boosting another jump off of the missile. It crashed behind her, detonating into a brilliant explosion. Yeong-Suk kept her eyes on Seven-Seven, deciding to turn her boosted jump into a flying axe kick aimed directly at the android's skull. One of the pair was going to go down in the next few seconds; mind as well make sure it was her.

In one last desperate attempt to save herself, Seven-Seven could only put her arm up to guard her face from the axe kick. However, she was using the missile launcher arm, and it got damaged from the impact. Her HUD went bright red once again as a warning from all the damage she received. She hissed in (fake) pain as she took a few steps back... while firing the missile right at Chung.

Yeong-Suk had enough of this fight. With the missile approaching her, she just stared it down and kicked it away, causing it to spiral away. It flew into one of the walls of the stage, detonating safely away from both combatants. The small woman approached the android, her mechanical ki-sensing eye briefly visible to Seven-Seven in its glowing rage. Yeong-Suk took a deep breath, and exhaled while peforming one last roundhouse kick straight at the robot's face.

There wasn't much more for Seven-Seven to do at this point... her body had already taken enough from the fight. Even though it had advance weapons systems, it just wasn't made to withstand this much damage. She took the kick square in the face, and fell sideways.

CRITICAL SYSTEMS ERROR, SHUTTING DOWN FOR REPAIRS.

The words flashed before her eyes, before her eyes went "dead." Essentially falling unconscious.

Yeong-Suk gave a quick sigh in relief as the robot woman shut down. It took her almost everything she had.... but she won.

"AND THAT IS A KO," Andre's voice beamed through the stadium, to the applause of the people watching, "THE LATE, TINY PIPSQUEAK OVERCAME THE WOMAN WHO JUST SO HAPPENED TO BE A MACHINE! CHUNG YEONG-SUK IS MOVING ON!"

Chung walked over to collect her pistol, staring at her defeated opponnent. She clicked the saftey back on, before sliding it back into her jacket. If this was what it was like to fight people of her caliber.... she would take them on. And win.

If a machine of war couldn't stop her.... who could?

[Holy Soldier]

Location: Lobby to Desert Arena

@Mr Allen J

---

Desert Arena Visual

Click Big Image Didn't Feel Like Shrinking it

Velvet felt the girl manage to catch her hip, stopping it with both of her hands. The auburn-haired woman did not even unfold from her hunched over position. Her butt remained above her shoulders as Velvet rested her fingertips upon the sandy ground. Brooke swung at her…Velvet hadn’t been expecting much tact from the arrogant girl (she was one to talk). The Russian leaned away from Brooke’s punch, leaning into a clockwise turn with every intention to have her hip knock into the extended limb to throw not only the swing but the fighter off balance if it struck. The motion seemed simple, but anytime her butt or breasts made contact with another, a concentrated explosion of “qi” or ki not seen by the normal eye erupted from her blows, causing more devastation than what spectators would realize.

Brooke had blocked the hip strike attempt she had made earlier and she was certain the girl had felt it. The unusual force that was behind her movements. Her opponent was strong, but she was certain that her Qigong would ware her down the more she insisted on tanking her strikes instead of evade them.

[Punished GN]

---

_{@Holy Soldier}

---

---

When Brooke entered the tournament, she expected to be fighting more... mundane fighters. Karate men, Judo-chicks, and so on. Maybe the odd fighter since she heard of magic and cybernetics being popular.

What she sure as hell didn't expect was to be fighting a boobie woman who fights by swinging her ass around like a Goddamn wrecking ball. Her punch was dodged easily as the woman swung her ass and sent her flying off balance. Before she quickly regained it with her arms up over her face. That was another thing her father taught her in that karate studio - good balance above all else! That wasn't important.

However, Brooke knew that she was probably charging up another weird butt or boobie based attack. She quickly threw her arms up in an X to shield her face, while tucking her chin in. Her body was charged with ki, as a glowing image of a triceratops appeared behind her. Roaring for a moment, before disappearing. What remained was a slight green glow over her body.

"Triceratops guard!" Brooke loudly shouted, facing down the woman.

[redbaron1234]

Klara Grimolfdottir vs

---

Otsana climbed the ladder up to the stage, her machine gun slung over her shoulder. It wasn't a long climb, but certainly enough that it'd hurt to fall that far if you didn't know how to do a skydiver's roll. Once she climbed over the edge, she saw that the stage had a square tier in the middle of the arena, surrounded on all sides with a gentle slope. It took up most of the arena, but around the edge of the stage was as series of concrete pillars painted and sculpted to look much older. She climbed up the top of the teir, standing on one end of it as she waited for her opponent to show up.

She didn't have long to wait as Klara sprung up from the opposite end of the tier, her breath creating a fog despite the Brazillian spring heat. The ice giantess looked around at the painted columns with curiosity as she swung the satchel she was carrying off her shoulders, not seeming to have noticed her wolfish opponent yet.

Otsana regarded her opponent with some curiosity as she was completely ignored. "Hey there, you must be Klara." She took a moment to double check that her guns were fully unloaded, opening each one up in turn before re-holstering them. "The name's Otsana."

Klara quickly looked over at the sound of her name, cracking a bemused yet friendly smile at the sight of the heavily armed wolf girl. "Sæl, Otsana!" the woman said heartily, her Scandinavian accent stumbling a bit on the name. "Indeed I am Klara, daughter of Grimolf." Rolling her shoulders a bit, the ice giantess glanced from the machine gun to the wolf ears of her opponent with curiosity.

Otsana grinned, crossing the distance to offer the towering woman her hand to shake. "Pleased to meet'cha then. I'd say you're an Amazon, but I don't think the Amazons went for the liquid nitrogen look?" So close up, it was clear that Klara was much more meatily built than the wolf girl, a fact that the latter made sure to keep in mind for later.

"Jotunn actually, or ice giants as most know them," Klara said with a chuckle, accepting her handshake with enthusiasm. "I must admit I am unfamiliar with what manner of creature you are. A lycanthrope of some sort, perhaps?"

Pointing to her ears, Otsana shook her head. "Naw," She paused to reconsider her words. "Well technically yes I could be called a lycanthrope, but I'm not a werewolf in the sense you're thinking. I'm an inumimi.Born with the ears and tail, and everyone in my family's got them too. Wouldn't be the first time someone's asked me that question though. I'm from Quebec, Canada. How 'bout you?"

"Heimskringla, Jotunn village in...what was it they called it? Norway?"
She dismissed her confusion with a hearty laugh. "Well met either way. This will certainly be a battle to remember!" She took a few steps back at that statement, leaving icy footprints behind her as she went.

Otsana waved off the giant's confusion. "Hey, another gal from the cold north. This is going to be interesting." She pointed to the frosted footprints Klara left. "Looks like you're bringing a bit of home with you, eh?

"Well, winter never leaves the Jotunn," Klara chuckled, lowering herself slightly into a fighting stance.

Otsana went to her end of the clearing, putting her hand on the handle of her Doorknocker. "Walking around with your own AC. I can dig it. I hope you don't mind things getting a little hot with me."

"Are you ready...?"

Klara nodded sharply. "Fight well, inumimi..."

Otsana nodded back to her. "You too, Jotun." They stood there for a few moments, eyes locked on the other until...

"... Go!"

Otsana drew her revolver without saying a word. With a practiced motion, she brought it up bear and fired a shot at Klara's center of mass. The muzzle seemingly exploded with fire as it bucked in her grip. The ice giantess raised an ice totem directly in front of her to shield from the fireball, then shoved it with her foot to propel it steadily towards her opponent.

Otsana spotted the pillar coming right at her, and quickly sidestepped it, careful to avoid the icy trail it left as it passed by. "Nice, nice, make your own cover. She put away her Doorknocker and drew her pistol, sending a trio of shots towards the giant, circling around the edge of the platform to try and keep the pressure up. Klara formed an axe in her hand but stopped to freeze herself to block the unfriendly fire. She quickly realized she was at a disadvantage here, as the heat from the shots scraped by her uncomfortably. Her ability to freeze herself would soon be ineffective against those fireballs, so the only option was to get close enough to avoid them. Simple.

"It is more then just cover," Klara said as she slowly thawed out from her ice form, the axe in her hand dissolving to frost.

Otsana was confused as her opponent seemed to explode into a light dusting of snow. Almost immediately the wolfgirl dropped low, ears up and alert as she scanned the arena in front of her for missing opponent. There wasn't much of a wait for her to find out where her opponent went. The crackling of ice behind her alerted her to the giant's technique, but much too late. Otsana barely had the time to pivot on the spot in time to see the giant's counterattack as Klara slammed her shoulder into Otsanna, knocking her back almost to the edge of the first platform. Grabbing one of her arms, the ice giantess made to pull Otsanna into a grapple. The wolfgirl struggled to keep control of her gun over the ice giant, panting as the barrel of the gun trembled. Reaching a stalemate, Otsana pulled back her fist and gave the giant a quick punch in the gut, followed by a punch in the face. "Let me go!

"Well, if you insist..."

With a grunt, Klara adjusted her grip and lifted Otsana, gun and all right over her head. The wolf girl struggled briefly before Klara pitched her headfirst into the second lower layer, throwing up dust where she hit the ground. Stretching her neck out, she made to jump down to finish her off before she heard an odd beeping sound. Looking down, she quickly spotted what looked like a cloth satchel attached to her chest, with wires crisscrossing it and a large blinking light set in the center.

"Oh for Frigg's sake...."

Face bruised, Otsana lifted up her arm, the detonator in her hand. "Hehe" The explosion was relatively small, but enough to send the giant flying halfway across the arena. Acting quickly, Otsana jumped to her feet, holstered her pistol, and drew her shotgun. She ran over to where Klara landed, closing in for the metaphorical kill with a grin on her face.

Klara wasn't down yet though. More then a little singed from the impromptu flight across the arena, the ice giantess slammed her fist into the ground and got to her feet just in time for her opponent to make her way around the circle. Still smiling despite looking thoroughly battered at this point, the ice giantess shrugged the tattered remains of her fur coat off her shoulders, leaving just a leather sleeveless top. "Not bad, I will admit," Klara said with a breathless laugh, flexing her bare, muscular arms as she braced for one last exchange. "Let us see what else you can do!"

"This." Klara got no further explanation as something sailed over her head and rebounded off the pillar behind her, exploding a foot in front of her face with a flash that would rival the sun and a noise akin to a volcano. An after image of the arena filled her vision only to fade to the sight of Otsana running up to her and sticking both barrels of her shotgun in her face. Klara was briefly surprised and barely had enough time to freeze herself before the shotgun blast blanketed her face in flames, but she managed to grab hold of Otsana's arm before she slipped away, pulling her into close range and, while the wolf girl was pulled off balance, the newly scorched Klara grabbed hold of her head and cracked their foreheads together.

Otsana grunted as she stumbled backwards, before falling onto her back. "Ugh, that backfired." Recovering as quickly as she could, she rolled over and got to her feet as fast as she could to avoid getting attacked while on the ground. She backpedaled away from Klara, drawing her Doorknocker once again, dual wielding her weapons. "Man, I wouldn't want to get into football scrum with you. Let's try this again." She opened fire with her revolver again, the gun practically exploding in her hand. This time Klara was ready for her and managed to hurl an ice handaxe at her opponent as she tanked the shots. The axe went wide, but it gave Klara the opening to begin drawing on her full power, the wind beginning to pick up rapidly around them. The temperature dropped as the Jotunn's eyes glowed blue with energy, the wind becoming an intense gale as it whipped Klara's hair around.

"Feel...the great winter!"

Otsana kept her guard up as the wind whipped up around her. The humid Rio air provided more than enough moisture to quickly form a flurry of swirling snow. "Aw, you think you can make me chilly? I used to walk to school in this." She put on her goggles, scanning the thickening cloud of snow and ice that started to sting. Within seconds her visibility was reduced to a few feet. "Come on, come at me..." It seemed like hours, but really only a few seconds, but she barely spotted the mass coming out of the snow. She opened fire on it, only to see it was an ice totem sliding in her general direction, not even on a direct course to hit her. Remembering the last time Klara used one of them, she kept her eye on it. "Don't think you can do that teleporting thing twice on me."

"I didn't!" With a triumphant shout Klara charged out of the wintry mist from where she stood before, slamming a knee into Otsana's chest and following it up with a wild hay-maker to her face. The wolf girl ducked under the punch and wildly tried to shoot Klara with her shotgun, getting her in the side, but Klara just powered on through the fire, feeling it sapping at her strength. This was her last chance to pull ahead, and she wasn't going to let it get past her. Using every last bit of energy she had, Klara put both her fists together and delivered an uppercut, knocking her wolfish opponent skywards. Otsana swung her gun around in midair to fight back, but Karla wrapped her hand around her leg first and, with a war cry that echoed through the arena, hurled her opponent into the ice totem. Ice fragments shot through the air as the totem shattered and Otsana sailed on through, hitting the ground and rolling right off the edge of the second ring.

Flush with victory, Klara didn't even hear Andre make the announcement as she dropped down to one knee. Checking to make sure there weren't any surprises left on her chest, she noticed a damp spot on her chest where Otsana had blasted her with the shotgun. Klara didn't want to think about how much worse it would have looked if the fight carried on much longer.

Otsana was battered and bruised. In fact she was sure she'd have broken something had she not been trained relentlessly in how to do a paratrooper's roll. Even with that, her head spun as she splayed out on the ground. Waving off the paramedics that came to attend to her, she took a few moments to collect herself as the crowd continued to roar. "Goddamn, I feel like Loki in that one movie." She sat up as she realized that someone was standing over her, blocking the warming sun.

"The trickster god has a movie?" Klara remarked curiously, still sounding friendly despite looking like she had been slammed repeatedly into a brick fireplace. "How quaint." Cracking another smile, she leaned down to offer a hand to help her up.

Otsana holstered her guns, and grabbed the offered hand. "Yeah except when Hiddleston got tossed around by a giant it was all movie magic." She slowly stood up, joints popping. "But yeah, looks like you won." She turned the hand up onto a two handed shake. "Congrats."

"Þakka fyrir. It was an honor to lock arms with someone as skilled as you." Klara declared, reciprocating the handshake with gusto. She turned to glance at the sun before throwing an arm around Otsana's shoulders, making sure she wasn't too rough given the fight they went though. "It seems there is time before the next battle begins. Come, let me get you a drink befitting a warrior such as yourself!"

Otsana looked almost surprised as she was pulled closer to the giant.Walking with a limp to match the Klara's, she let out a chuckle. "Hey, booze after a brawl? Best salve for pain I've ever known. Let's see if we can find something stronger than the piss they serve at the concession stand."

[The book of bad juju]

"Good afternoon, i'm Eulalio, and you're listening to KRDJ, your one stop shop for talk radio, all day and every day. It's another beautiful day here in the big melting pot of the city between the rivers, and tonight, we're gonna take a good hard look at the newest latest attraction to grace our fair city, the International Brazillian Fighting Cup, taking place just up the road from the old Palace building. Tickets will be available all throughout today and tommorrow, if you wanna come and watch some super-powered badasses beat the ever loving snout out of each other, this is the trip for you. With us in the studio is the head Referee of the event, Mister Steve Bannon."

"Que tal?"

"So, Mister Bannon, the first rounds have all but almost cleared themselves up, what can you say about our contestants, who should we keep an eye for?"

"Gracias, Eulalio. Well, we've had some wonderful bunch of contestant here on the first night of the competition. Two that really caught my eye, personally, were the competitors of Heat D. Interesting mix of both brains and brawn in this fight, up between the two ton terror of Tannhauser, Klara G-Grimolf-doter, and Missus 'Splosion Man herself, Otsana "Binladen" Corral. Let me tell you, i reckon the eyes of every red-blooded male in the audience were fixed on these two fierce competitors, and I'm not just talking about their performance on the mat if you know what I-"

"Misser Bannon, this is a family show!"

"I apologize. Still, this competition is doing wonders for the MMA scene, as you know. Hundreds, if not thousands of spectators for just the first night. And we've been hearing rumors of Ticketmaster actually selling out their stock, so buy in early, listeners! You're not gonna want to miss some of this spectacle!"

"Putting aside the blatant promotion, what do you say to some of the concerns that the events were Unsafe and Dangerous to look at? We here at KRDJ received word that a stray bullet from one of the heats, er... 'went into a spectator's shoulder, causing him to be rushed to hospital'. Any comment on that?"

Silence. Dead air, while Joaoquim tried to gather his thoughts. Gosh, this radio business was harder then he thought.

"Ah, well, this isn't a traditional competition, as you know. Many of the fighters are used to needing to demonstrate, erm... how you say, Dominance? My point is that we're probably not going to make action figures out of these guys. There's going to be blood and guts on display, maybe a few cusses when things get really hairy, y'know? So maybe don't bring the kiddies. If they wanna watch, we're going to air these matches on TV heavily edited. Which is gonna be a real pain, especially with all the cussing that went on with Heat A with El Uno, but we'll manage it. But i gotta say, there's something so amazingly raw about seeing these events live, y'know? This whole feeling that anything can happen between these guys and gals when they really do put their lives on the line. I'd hate to be against these guys in a dark alleyway in the favelas, am i right?"

"I'm sure. Still, I hear that the rampant use of firearms in this tournament has attracted some Ire, hasn't it? I think there was an article about it in the Rio Gazette, bemoaning how you're setting a bad examp-"

"Psh, the Gazette's a rag, you know that! What we're offering is some real action, real combat, and maybe even some real violence. We don't want to put limits on what our competitors can do, Arbitrarily fencing off a few weapons just because the average Joe on the street can't get their mitts on them isn't our way."

"Well, if you're sure. We'll be back after these words from our sponsors, don't go away!"

[Drag]

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

A few months ago, possibly on a Tuesday

"D-Dad I really don't think you're l-listening to me!" a small narrow looking and clearly terrified boy said, his red cap slid to the side and wearing a black T-shirt with a red and green snake printed on. The very epitome of tough.

"Son! After all the training and promise you've shown you'd be a fool not to go out there and follow ya destiny! Trust me, when ya out there with all them people screamin' your name as your handed trophies and titles; you'll thank me." a bald man replied, wearing a light brown T-shirt baggy tan workout pants and no shoes or socks.

"Dad, you made me send in my application and the applications guy sent back a picture of him laughing!" The boy moaned, clearly agitated as his father rushed from room to room in their modest home (albeit with very outdated shag carpeting) picking up clothes, shampoo and various other assorted items and stuffing them into a green backpack. "You keep m-making me go out there and get my ass kicked, why can't you at least have the decency to let it keep happening here rather than in Brazil with all these crazy martial artists a-a-and robots and g-God knows what else!"

"You're gonna catch 'em by surprise Luccy. Hit 'em with the 'ol one two Miller special! Same move that kept Battlin' Bill Ewan down for a whole two seconds back in MY day heh heh." Perry Miller said recounting his old "glory" days as he continued packing his son's bag without a care in the world.

"Okay, we're literally having two different conversations." Lucas said pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as he slumped against a door frame. "Pleeease just listen to me, I've seen these kinda fights! In one of 'em a guy was swung around like a baseball bat 'an thrown into the side of a scaffold! Do you really want your only son's death on your hands Dad!?"

Perry chuckled lightly and put his hands on Lucas' shoulders.

"Listen son, first of all no one dies in these tournaments. I'm almost positive! Second, you got all the potential in the world kid, you just gotta let it alllll out on them freaks and bums at that tournament. Trust me kid, you got greatness in you, I can see it! And soon enough, all them weirdos is gonna see it too! So go to Brazil and SHOW 'em! Show 'em that the strongest style around is the MILLER Family Style!" Perry, proud of his words of encouragement, gave Lucas a light slap on the arm and walked down the hall, hands in his pockets as he disappeared into his room, leaving his son dumbfounded.

"....THAT DOESN'T EVEN EXIST!"

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ok, it's the present day now

Lucas shuffled around the room filled to burst with men of proportionally insane muscles and insane cybernetics alongside women wearing some uncomfortable looking leather suits who could create storms with sheer will. Needless to say Lucas more or less collapsed into himself and kept his head firmly down facing the floor. Because of his frame Lucas went unnoticed for a time but his choice to wear a bright tie dye shirt with red knee and arm pads eventually made him standout against the muted colours and fighters looking for anyone they perceived could be weaker than them. Needless to say when looking at Lucas their search was quickly done.

Enduring a few mocking comments and side glances, Lucas made his way through the roster of combatants fairly easily and looked up at one of the TV monitors displaying the end of the Klara Vs. Otsana fight. Lucas stared at the monitor, unblinking and eyes widening as this goliath of a woman slammed her knee directly into this woman who carried several firearms and appeared to be a dog.... Wolf... Thing? The two continued on to the end of their fight on the replay as Lucas wordlessly turned around, slamming straight into someone behind him and knocking the person's drink into their chest.

"What. The fuck." a voice said as Lucas looked up to meet the face of a jacked up man wearing a gray muscle top and sporting a mean mullet. His massive hand crushed the paper cup his beer formerly rested in.

"I-I-I-I..." Lucas attempted to stammer out some kind of apology but was instead lifted by the collar of his shirt and thrown against the wall. The man pressing his face uncomfortably close against Lucas'.

"Somethin' tells me your scrawny ass ain't even MAKIN' it into the tourney." The man reared back his fist and in an instant began propelling it with bad intentions towards the face of Lucas, who in turned cried out in fear and slid his way downwards at the last second. Sending the man's fist smashing into the marble wall with a particularly sickening crack. Offsetting his tough look the man began screaming in a high pitched fashion and leaping around the room clutching his hand, his friends attempting to come to his aid.

"MY FUCKIN' HAND! THIS LITTLE BASTARD BROKE MY HAND!!" He cried out as staff members began rushing towards the two of them.

"I-I I'm S-sorry man o-oh J-Jesus I-I'm really sorry!" Lucas tried stuttering out in panic, actually going over to the man to try and look at his hand before being swiftly shoved away.

[Holy Soldier]

Location: Running through the streets, commencing battle with Jack Silvermane

---

There were too many factors that made Gideon’s ability to keep away from his pursuers more and more difficult. 1) Brazil was hot and running generated a lot of heat; 2) he was wearing a hoodie in a tropical climate, which might have contributed to him looking suspicious because…who really does that? 3) His chibi’s stomach was maxed out and running was the worst feeling ever. Little Gideon had sweat rolling from his hairline and dripping off his chin. The salty perspiration tried to burn his eyes and he kept them closed in his lethargic run. His stomach was churning, causing his face to pale with nausea. He was forced to stop at the end of the alley and staggered over to a wall that he pressed his hands flatly against, his to-go box dangling from his wrist. Little Gideon hung his head, mouth agape as he panted to not only catch his breath but to swallow some air to keep his food down.

I can’t run anymore…I’m going to throw up. It’s over. I’m going to be washing dishes until my hands fall off! Little Gideon thought.

Jack slowed from his sprint as he glared at the fat kid. He didn’t look like he had anymore gas left to run. Smirking, Jack offered, “Look, how about I do us both a favor and get the old man off our backs?”

As Papa caught up to them, waving his machete around angrily, Jack assumed a sideways stance and executed a single, side-skip toward the man before he rested his weight on his left foot. His right foot rose, tucking in before it shot out like a spring. His combat boot met with Papa’s stomach and the Brazilian man folded like paper against it. A gasp of blood and spittle left Papa’s mouth before the force of the kick sent him flying a few feet back to land upon the ground on his back.

Little Gideon stared in shock at what Jack had done, watching the man slowly lower his leg and expel a concentrated breath on pursed lips. Jack glanced over at the kid and said simply, “There, all of our problems are solved.”

Little Gideon pushed off the wall to hurriedly race over to Papa when Jack snagged him by the back of his hood and yanked him back. His other hand snagged the to-go box that was hanging from Little Gideon’s wrists.

“Well, not all our problems. I’m starving and your thieving bullshit cost me a meal. You owe me one kid!”

Little Gideon whirled and grasped the box greedily. “I don’t owe you shit! How does it make you feel to have the strength to defeat an old man?”

Jack’s eyes gleamed with anger. “That's quite a nasty mouth you have shrimp. You and I both know that that guy was no normal grandpa, so how about you shut your fat mouth kid before I break it!”

Jack pressed his foot against Little Gideon’s belly and pulled back on the to-go box until he managed to wrench it from his fingers. Little Gideon plopped back on his bottom, and angrily stared up at Jack like an affronted dog.

“Thanks, kid” Jack said with a nod and smirk before he turned to head on his way.

Little Gideon rose to his feet and rushed over to Papa to check on the man. Dropping to his knees next to him, he rested his fingers on his neck to make sure he still had a pulse and then lowered his cheek to his mouth and nose area. While he felt his breath on his cheek, he watched his chest rise and fall and was relieved to learn that he was okay.

“You’re a tough old man,” Little Gideon complimented. He inspected the man’s stomach and frowned a little at the bruise that was forming where Jack had struck him. If he didn’t get immediate attention, then Papa’s condition could become worse. He might had even faced some internal damage. Baring his teeth, Little Gideon bowed his head and growled, “This would have never happened, if I hadn’t come to your shop, and if I hadn’t lied. I will avenge you.”

Little Gideon rose to his feet. “But first, I’m going to get you some help.”

---

Jack was munching on a pasteis as he walked through the back streets of Rio. He didn’t care if he never found Adam in Brazil. Brazil was a vacation, and it was nice being able to leave The Agency every once in a while. He communicated to his handler between bites, “No sign of target.”

The fighter suddenly stopped as he felt goosebumps spread across his arms. He felt a strong ki appearing strangely what felt like from nowhere, and it was close.



Jack immediately whirled and tilted his head to the left, dodging a flaming foot that passed over his right shoulder. The burning ki singed his ear, neck, and shoulders but mysteriously, the fighter was unharmed. The leg passed over his shoulder until his assailant’s crotch slammed into his face. With a disgusted and humiliated cry, Jack was forced to collapse to the ground as his ambusher’s foot made contact with the brick-laden street. The earth under the attacker’s foot exploded. The aftershock violently expanded in a ring that slammed into the walls of the nearby homes and businesses, shattering the windows, and setting off car alarms. Smoke rose in an obscuring tower from a three meter in diameter crater. Standing three meters deep in it was a man wearing a white hoodie with the hood drawn up over his head. Black, charcoal-colored cargo pants rode down his long legs to a pair of dark sneakers as he peered down at the stunned man beneath him.

Jack’s eyes were wide in shock as he stared up the long legs to the shadowed face of what could only be…he gasped in surprise, “A-Adam! I found him!” He stared at the man’s oddly gleaming eyes. Those eyes…yes, it was him. He glanced at the crater he was laying in and could only imagine what would have happened if that kick had actually managed to hit him. As he laid there, feeling like prey beneath the claws of a tiger, he wondered what the abomination was going to do. Was he going to finish him off? He instead heard…snickering.

A long, guttural snicker left Gideon as an amused smile stretched across his face. He bent over a little, trying to hold back his laughter with his hand. Tears glinted in his eyes, and soon he couldn’t resist anymore. Dropping his hand, he rested it on his knee as he near folded over with laughter.

“I-I am so sorry,” Gideon laughed. “My dick totally hit you in the face HA HA HA HA!”

Jack stared at the laughing weapon…this was Adam? This…immature fucking idiot? He blushed in embarrassment, his silver brows twitching with a growing rage. The guy’s laughter was annoying.

“I hope you don’t want this idiot alive?” Jack asked his handler. “Because I’m gonna kill him!”

Gideon managed to leap out of the crater and weakly stagger away. He couldn’t overcome his laughing fit.

“Ha, ha, I said I was sorry!”

Jack twisted over onto his stomach in the crater and managed to stand. “You think I care whether you’re sorry or not!”

Gideon turned around to face Jack with a big grin shining from beneath his hood. “No need to get mad. It’s not like anyone else saw. It’ll be just our little secret.”

Jack hopped out of the crater and sank into a stance. His right foot was forward and left back, his knees slightly bent. His right fist was more forward than his left, and his left arm was bent 90 degrees.

“As much as I think you’re nothing but a joke, I’ve been told not to underestimate you. Fight me Adam, I’ll show you how far Daedalus has come without you.”

Gideon rolled his shoulders and nonchalantly taunted, “Man, you guys just keep saying the same thing.” He then beckoned the agent toward him with a wave of his hand. “Let’s get this over with.”

---

Мы нашли его.

Velvet rose out of her turn to stand before Brooklyn as she held up her green, glowing dino guard or whatever it was. She regarded the woman from behind her mask and rested a hand on her (Velvet's) rounded hip. Her work here was done.

“Hmph,” was all Velvet muttered before she turned and started walking away from the fighter. She brushed some sweat from her brow and muttered, “Oawh, it is too hot. You win, девушка. I have more important t'inks to do.”

The Russian winked at Brooklyn and puckered her lips to blow the girl a cherry kiss before she quickly and unenthusiastically left the stage, leaving her growing fan base with only a jumbotron visual of her sweaty breasts jostling around as she ran. The forfeit hadn’t been anything anyone had predicted, and it left several judges and audience members a little irritated, frustrated, and confused.

@Mr Allen J

[Dojo]

---

Last Monday Night in New York City...

ONE!

...

TWO!!

...

THREE!!!

ding ding ding

An all too familiar sight for fans of the New York based professional wrestling promotion, the World Championship Wrestling Federation. 40,000 people packed into a sold out stadium in New York at eleven at night, stood on their feets, going wild, screaming and cheering on Walter Duncan as he celebrates yet another championship defence, extending his already record setting time as WCWF Undisputed World Heavyweight Champion. Duncan takes times parading around the ring, holding his championship title belt above his head for all 40,000 fans in attendance to see as his rock music theme song pumps through the stadiums sound system. Duncan calls for a microphone, and rather than end the show with his iconic catchphrase, he shocks the crowd in attendance. He raises the microphone and speaks.

"Cut my damn music!" he begins, sounding as tough and grizzled as ever, draping the championship belt over his massive shoulder, "I'm sure you're all expectin' it, but I got some bad news for ya. I ain't out here to say no DAMN catchphrase. I'm here to make an announcement for the entire world to hear."

Duncan pauses a moment to catch his breath after an incredible back and forth contest, or to build suspense for the crowd, maybe a little of column A, a little of column B.

"Every four years in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, there's a little event called the Brazilian Fighting Cup that brings every man, women, and beast together in order to find out who the best fighter in the known galaxy is. I gotta say, I find it down right insulting that they wouldn't include ME! They have all these maniacal weirdos, and pencil necked GEEKS but not ME?! I am the longest reigning WCWF Heavyweight Champ, and the greatest pro wrestler of ALL TIME! How could you possibly hold a tournament to find the best of the best without including the man that has biceps big enough to give Mount Everest an inferiority complex!"

At this point, Duncan is quick to find the closest camera man and demands him to come close in order to get an extreme close-up shot of the Champ's biceps as he flexes. Duncan returns to the centre of the ring. Wiping sweat from his brow, he continues speaking.

"So, if they don't wanna invite me, I'm gonna go over there and force them to put me in. After the show tonigt, I'm going take all 3 of the smoking hot ladies in the front row back to the hotel down the street, give them ALL a night that none of em will EVER forget, pack my bags, fly to Brazil and show all those fairies how a REAL Champion FIGHTS! I am the Heavyweight Champion of the World, you hear me?! I am the greatest pro wrestler in HISTORY! And I'm gonna be the next Brazilian Fighting Cup Champion! Because do you know what ya get when you take all my muscle, elite skill, toughness, size and impossible power and strength? You get an UNSTOPPABLE FORCE!!!"

The crowd scream the final words of Duncan's iconic catchphrase in unison with him and go ballistic as he drops the microphone and raises the belt above his head. He exits the ring and walks back up the ramp toward the backstage area, disappearing into the back as the crowd in the stadium begins to exit.

---

Present day in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

Walking through a crowded street during the middle of the night as people flock around monitors in an electronic store window watching replays of the fights that took place earlier in the day, Duncan takes mental notes of the competition. Well, if we're being accurate, he takes the same mental note of everyone, "I've seen better." Bored with the replays, he continues heading down the street to the lobby area for the tournaments. Almost as if it was scripted by a writer, a loud mouthed and obnoxious man with a mohawk taller than most people, wearing worn out, dirty clothes with an old leather jacket, drunkenly screams in Duncan's direction as he walks by.

"Hey Big Guy!" the drunk began, "I recognise you from some-*hiccup*-somewhere...heyyyy, what's that shiny thing ya got there?!"

The drunk stumbles toward Duncan, getting in his face, the drunk lunges the WCWF Championship slung over his arm. The drunk pulls it off of Duncan's mountain like shoulder and holds it close to his face in order to drunkenly slur the text engraving on the belt.

"World Chaaaampioonshiii Wrrrestlin' Fe-*hiccup*-Federation Undiiiissspuuuted Wooorld Heavyweight Champion." The drunk looks up at Duncan, with a stern look on his face. "You a wrassler?", the drunk smirks and drops the belt and it clangs on the concrete. "You know that fag shit is fake, right?" The drunk cackles to himself as he goes to walk away.

He is stopped in his tracks when Duncan reaches out and grabs the back of the mans jacket and pulls him back. Duncan wraps his massive arms around the mans body, squeezing the life out of the drunk as he screams out in pain. Duncan then whips himself back with all the power he has, driving the drunk down on the back of his head, executing a picture perfect German Suplex. Duncan gets to his feet, leaving the unconscious body of the drunk twitching on the sidewalk.

He picks up his Championship belt and places it over his shoulder and then turns around to realise that the entire street has stopped in their tracks, staring at Duncan with eyes wide, and mouths agape. He straightens his posture, puffing out his already massive chest, to give warning to any lowlifes in the street.

"Who else wants to say wrestling is fake?! that I am FAKE?! HUH?!" He points at the twitching drunk that is flopping around the floor. "BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS!!!", he shouts, scanning the crowd as he does. With the situation taken care of, an angered Duncan walks off toward the bar ranting and shouting.

"I'M THE GODDAMNED WORLD CHAMPION! I'M THE GREATEST! I'LL SHOW YOU, I'LL SHOW EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU LOWLIFES! BUNCH OF GODDAMN SAVAGES, THAT'S ALL YOU ARE!!! SAVAGE IDIOTS! I'M THE WORLD CHAMPION!"

Duncan eventually reaches the bar, he stands over the bouncer at the door, but shows him his ID and is allowed into the Brazilian Fighting Cup lounge and lobby area. Duncan manages to be the largest figure in the room full off muscle bound meatheads, dragons, robots and other freaks. He sits down at the bar and asks for a beer in order to relax. He grabs the ice cold bottle that is placed down in front of him and with no effort, he flicks the beer's bottle cap off with his thumb and walks around the room. Scouting out the colourful cast of characters that litter the bar area.

[Punished GN]

---

_{@Holy Soldier}

---

---

Even though Brooke had her arms up, and fully prepared to guard against whatever weird ass-based attacks this woman was ready to throw at her....

“Hmph, Oawh, it is too hot. You win, девушка. I have more important t'inks to do.”

... Only to be severely fucking disappointed when Hips-Don't-Lie over here turned off, and ran off. Brooke dropped her guard only to see Velvet blow her a kiss, before running off stage. She raised an eyebrow out of sheer confusion.

"Hey! Get back here! Finish the figh-"

Before she could even finish that sentence, this slut of a woman was gone. Disappearing into the halls of the arena. Leaving Brooke confused.

"... Weird, ain't it?" Andre quietly said to himself, before realizing that everyone in the arena could hear it. "Oh! It seems the clash between the unstoppable hips of Velvet, and the unmovable techniques of Brooklyn Vanburen has come to a close not even I saw coming!"

Technically, the moment Velvet stepped off stage, Brooke won. But, it felt so... hollow. Her first win in a major tournament like this was merely by the opponent forfeiting. Her blood was rushing, she was feeling it, but then, it was all over.

Maaaaan, was this what "blue balls" felt like?

Slamming her foot into the ground out of frustration, Brooke nearly cracked the ground beneath her feet with the force. She said to herself,

"... I'll get a real fight out of you."

And that was a promise, for now, Brooke would try not to get disappointed by the next fight. There was a lot of work up ahead of hers.

"... My main lady Brooklyn moves onto the tournament!"

---

_@Drag

---

---

After losing the fight against "Jeremy," Justin merely retreated to the lounge area where he got to watch Seven-Seven lose her fight.

Perfect.

He sat down in a chair, with one leg underneath the other, resting his head back. Rather unconcerned with the fights. Man... was he really this weak? Or was "Jeremy" that strong. There was definitely something wrong with that man, and his suit. Justin's hand went back to the glowing core in his chest. It definitely felt like something happened to his ki there.

Which means there was a little more to Jeremy than Justin once thought.

His "inner-MAVERICK" wanted to look into Jeremy, but he knew that was a job for somebody else. He shrugged as his eyes drifted to the side as a burly man walked right through the doors. He looked like he was in the right place, as Justin completely forgot about him by the time his eyes made it to the other side.

Which allowed Seven-Seven to ambush him as she plopped down on the sofa with him. So fast and unexpected; that it took Justin a moment to register that it was his robotic friend, Seven-Seven. She leaned in close to Justin, with that trademark smile on her face.

"Hey, Justin," Seven-Seven cheerfully said, "Did your fight go well?"

"No, I got the beat dropped on me..." Justin looked off to the side, before muttering to himself. "... How am I going to beat Abel like this?"

"By improving of course!" Seven-Seven enthusiastically said, before earning a strange look from Justin. "I lost my fight as well." She said as that smile turned upside down, "Seems to be that my fighting capabilities weren't... up to snuff.."

You and me both. Justin thought to himself, before he took one look around him. He didn't had one little interest in this circlejerk of fighters.

"Ready for plan-B?" Justin asked.

Seven-Seven sighed.

"Yes, Justin..." Plan-B meaning do odd jobs around Brazil until they got enough money to move onto the next place. It was something that Seven-Seven didn't exactly agree with, but when they were racing against time here, their options are limited.

"Let's hang around for a moment." Justin hopped up, and Seven-Seven followed. Now, in the event that their friend Abel (or another associate of his) already long caught up, Justin knew that he was probably waiting for them at the door. Expecting them to leave soon as they lost. But, Justin was going to stick around for a little bit to throw off their opponents by using the tournament as cover.

Justin knew that Abel was smart, and only an idiot would attack a tournament like this directly.

Course, that didn't mean they had to sit around this room full of meatheads growling at each other. While walking to the door however, they came across a funny little scene. There was a little "fight" going on between some kid, and an actual fighter. Part of Justin wondered why he was in here, instead of the bleachers. However, the kid ducked, and the dude punched a wall, before annoying walling in pain. He raised an eyebrow.

He wasn't going to last long, anyway.

"Interesting..." Seven-Seven said, "That child has a small amount of ki residing inside of him... enough to put him above normal humans, but nowhere near our level."

"And that means?"

"He might be in training!" Seven-Seven said, before she noticed his friends looking at the boy in a rather hostile fashion. "Oh?" She said as she covered her mouth.

Justin knew exactly what Seven-Seven was thinking, and figured, well, what harm would be done if he helped. Better than wandering around the arena. Justin walked over to the boy, and stood in front of him to block him. Looking over his shoulder at him.

"Hey, kid..." Justin said, "Looks like his buds want to take a piece out of you...."

He shrugged.

"If you want to get out of this without getting every bone in your body broken, I'd suggest sticking with me."

[Drag]

@Mr Allen J

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"If you want to get out of this without getting every bone in your body broken, I'd suggest sticking with me."

Lucas near jumped into the air as the duo suddenly appeared in front of him, their bodies blocking him from the views of discontent and fury of the fighter's peers. Lucas trembled slightly as he looked up at Justin who gave the fighters and his companions a cold glare. Lucas glanced over the woman accompanying the man and felt like he knew who she was. It suddenly hit him, on the way to the tourney someone had been streaming the matches on the bus, he recalled her as the woman who had a machine gun appear right from her shoulder. Lucas' face went further white as the machine-gun-missile lady gave him a pleasant smile and turned alongside Justin to stare down the men harassing Lucas.

The man still clutched his shivering hand and locked eyes with Justin and Seven-Seven, wavering after a few seconds with a mumbled "fuck this."

His friends began leading him away from the scene as the man glared at Lucas. "I'm gonna carve my fuckin' name into your screamin' body and win this damn tournament, loser." he growled as he continued walking.

"H-hey, you g-g-got m-my vote p-pal." Lucas said earnestly with a weak smile, that instantly vanished after the man turned once more to give a murderous glare towards him.

With the immediate situation diffused Lucas now had to deal with the two new fighters, one who Lucas had seen lose a part of her face and continue fighting, and the other who Lucas didn't recognize but guessed he probably just as powerful as his not-so-human friend. Lucas decided to immediately go for gratitude, praying that they hadn't helped him just to beat on him themselves. It happened.

Lucas shakily rubbed his hand against his shirt, his eyes still very clearly conveying terror as his knees struggled to support his frame. He stuck out his hand towards the two.

"I-I-I L-Luke- L-Lucas." he practically mumbled to himself, trying to avoid the woman's gaze and not entirely keen on the man's either.

[Punished GN]

---

_@Drag

---

---

The goons walked off, and muttered something, but Justin's ears were closed.

Just usual "macho-men" that these tournament attract. It was natural. Though, Justin shuddered at the possibility that he could had ended up like them. Well, he could had, if... that day didn't happen. He sighed as they walked off, Justin then turned around at the kid who looked scared out of his mind. And just... awkward here. He didn't have the looks of a fighter, and according to Seven-Seven, not even the fighting spirit! He could very well get killed out there if he went up against the heavyweights.

Justin just couldn't imagine what would happen if this boy fought "Jeremy."

The boy couldn't spit out a single word he was so nervous! Justin crossed his arms, and shook his head.

"Brenton," Justin gave the boy his alias (because the last thing Justin wanted to do was alert a room full of Nomads that there was a price on them).

"I'm Andrea!" Seven-Seven also gave an alias, because she knew it'd be better than just telling the boy her name is Seven. Her electronic eyes shined with a bright blue color, as she looked at Lucas. "Are you lost? You look lost?"

Justin threw a thumb to the door. "The stands are down the hall, just take a right and you'll be right there."

[Savo]

VERSUS

---

---

Calvin walked to the arena, holding a bottle of water. As he climbed up onto the stage, he was both pleasantly surprised and pleased that the arena had an Ice theme. Reminded him of home. He pulled the cap off of his water bottle and started sipping, waiting for his opponent to arrive. Reading the roster earlier, he saw he would be fighting a person named "The One". Whoever he, (or she, Calvin doesn't judge) was, Calvin would be prepared.

---

Well, looks like he didn't have to deal with that bimbo and her fucking tree trunk limbs as he made his way past the crowds... and looky here, those cuckfuckers were making a huge deal out of a shitty display and one very grandeur one my yours truly!... as long as they were referring to his skills, then those fuckers had good taste.

Other than that, the god damn announcement was made that shit was about to go down and that these cockfondlers should stare at the screen to figure out who they were fighting... and for him, it was just some asshat he had never even heard of! Fucking perfect! As he walked between everyfucker, he was thinking over what the hell a "jobber" was; never even heard of that term until that assguzzler Andre mentioned it. It didn't take too long for him to discern what it was in his mind, after all, he was The motherfucking One!

... and shit, this place was a lot bigger than he expected. Walking out, he saw a slew of arenas, ranging from some retarded one hanging above fucking water to a stage that looked like something out of a asswipe rave...

... and as it turned out, he was fighting in the cold against this fucker, cool, great.

Ascending to the stage, The One grasped his hat as he shivered a fucking little. Nice to see that this barren bitching place is a little slippery... and that there was more ice under this arena, great...

Oh yes, his opponent... who looked like some random kid from Antarctica that decided to randomly come to Rio fucking De Jenairo to melt like a snowman. Yup, this bitch was a nobody alright, and he knew what to do with bitches.

"Oh, so you're the fucking jobber they pit me against? Surprised the fucking heat didn't destroy you first... no matter." The One pointed his walking cane at the young fucking man, stretching his smile to the point where he looked like a depraved Cheshire Cat as he grasped his badass hat.

"Gotta show off how motherfucking great I am first."

Calvin looked up at his opponent, and stopped sipping.

"Oh don't worry, I'm used to the heat. I'm Calvin, in case you didn't read... Okay, so we starting this for real?" he asked as he took one last sip and put his water bottle in his coat pocket. He raised both of his flat-palm gloved hands as he took his battle stance.

"Go!", Andre shouted, followed by the roar of a crowd.

Calvin held his hands wide open as he jogged to his opponent, holding his flat hands sideways as he closed in towards his opponent. He then jabbed both hands inwards to The One, going for an attack from both sides.

Of course... he is too fucking clueless to even know when he was supposed to begin fighting! Ha! This dipshit would go down faster than any lady who would spend time with The One! Heh, while this shithead was busy jogging over to The One, he had his safety protocols in check already as his top hat was already off his head, displaying his impressive cue ball head.

Aiming his hat directly at the cuckfucker, he decided to wait until the right moment as he evaluated what his move was... and it was obvious that he was going to try some bullshit slaps with both of his hands, ha! No way he would take a blow that fucking early.

Before the kid could get whatever stupid ass move off, The One shot off prematurely exploding missiles at Calvin Cuckducker legs, launching himself away as well as tripping that yiffbucket up.

Calvin fell flat on his face as the missiles collided into his legs. He tried his best to catch himself with his attack, but ultimately fell and got a face-full of snow. He lifted his face up, and spat out a mouthful of snow into his hand.

"Hey guy, don't you think it's kind of petty to bring rockets to a martial arts tournament?" Calvin asked, confused. "Not only is that kind of a dick move, it's really dangerous!"

He then started mushing the snow into a snowball, and infused it with Ki, packing it together.

"Now here's a *mostly* harmless alternative."

Calvin hurled the snowball straight at The One. It spun as it flew towards him, heading straight for his opponent's chest. He felt a pang of cold before it even touched him.

Yup, this dumbass was definitely one to talk as he did a flip in the air while flipping the fucking bird. "You fucking dumbass, didn't you listen to what Andre Cuckbucket said," he shouted out, attaching his awesome ass hat back to his head in midair. He easily stuck the fucking landing; why wouldn't he? The One always makes fucking due on his pays... or something.

Kneeling down for a second, The One wiggled his hand as he heard what Calvin lacking fucking Hobbes had to say. It didn't fucking matter as he shot up to his feet as he swiftly revolved his body to shoot... only to find his chest covered in fucking snow. It was still too god damn early to be hit!

And fucking hell, this was more chilly than Chile!... no, actually, fucking hold on, how did cockfodder get up so quickly?! No matter.

"D-draw mother fucker," his thumb pressed down onto an invisible trigger, causing a shot of motherfucking pressurized sound to fly forth at Calvin Klein's left shoulder.

"I know what Andre said, but that's still a-- Woah!"

Calvin noticed the stream of sound heading towards his shoulder far too late for him to block it. The packed sound his his shoulderblade, causing a brief sting of pain, followed by light numbness. He held one hand on his shoulder, massaging it slightly. Once it felt okay, he wriggled it.

Calvin then started to sprint towards The One again, this time holding his right arm out as light blue Ki swirled around it, eventually forming a rough, thick formation of ice, the size of a club. He leapt into the air and swung an overhead attack onto The One.

Seriously? John Calvin was stopping like a little bitch to nurse his boo-boo? Oh boo hoo, guess this pussy-poser wouldn't last too long at all if he was gonna act like that... Oh well; better taunt him while he is trying to recover from The motherfucking One's powerful ass move! Flipping his cane onto his shoulders, The One grasped his hat as he stared at the boy with a huge shit eating grin.

"Hey fuckboy, if you were lookin' for a snowball fight, I'll avalaunch your ass all the way to Alaska; there's plenty of snow there!" Eheheh, he was so god damn clever alright! Of course, jeering while the opponent was down didn't leave much time for fucking retaliating with more god damn shots! Eh, whatever, this was some weakass opponent anyways.

...

And looky fucking here! John Calvin was rushing forward with his arm out as if his own dick was lit a'fuckin' flame... Pah, what was his next asswiping move? To use a dick fisting move that made him shit sn- wait a minute. He could sense that shit anywhere!

Ki in that shitwipes hand! Ok, so maybe he was less of an incompetent fuck, but not by a whole lot... still, time to put those amazing defense mechanisms to use again...

Grabbing onto his awesomeass hat... no, no, someone as pathetic as him might squander that fucking ki attack. Might as well style on his pasty, baby fatass face!

Once more, The One drew his fucking cane, twirling it as it... oh jesus fuck, that's a thick piece of ice! The spin came to almost an immediate end as The One briskly grasped both ends of his fucking cane to block the chunky ass attack... and was promptly knocked back, almost tripping in the god damn-

... scratch that, he did trip...

... right onto his god damn ass, ugh. The One winced as he skidded back a little, feeling the pain of friction and the frozen snow now melting into equally cold liquid! Now his pants were fucking wet, great! Just fucking fantastic! Gritting his teeth, The One's eyesight became sharp enough to make an edgy person swoon as he glared at Calvin.

Grabbing onto his hat, The One used what little time he could to get up... and possibly maneuver away to piss on this jobber much, much more.

"Well, I got you down. So I guess I'll pull of my finishing move, if that's okay with you." Calvin informed, before squating down and holding onto his knees. He then struggled and grunted to roll forward. After about five seconds, which was more than enough time for The One to get back up, he rolled forward onto his back, and then back forward again.

"Ah, frig. I guess I haven't really practiced that too much... Guess I'll just do another trick.", Calvin admitted in casual defeat, standing back up.

He then stood in a defensive position. His left hand held an open palm outwards, while his right hand was held near his body, scrunching up his index finger, middle finger, and thumb together, before sprinting towards The One. He lunged his right hand forwards and pinched his opponent's leg, infusing it with ice cold ki, which would have caused a cocoon of ice to quickly grow on it.

"I guess I can atleast slow you down so I can beat your ass around like a piece of meat."

Wait, what the fuck? Lifting his leg had no fucking effect at all! This god damn dickweed was going to fucking pay for this stupid ass bullshit!... but how? Suddenly, he had the greatest fucking idea that would put buttered bread to shame! Yeah, fuck you bread!

"I bet you would love to beat all the meat you fucking faggot," The One screeched as he pointed his hat behind him as he launched another set of fucking missiles onto the shitsnow ground behind him. As they shot out, The One wasn't catapulted upwards, but rather given a quick boost of mobility as the arc shot him onto the top of his opponents back, slamming down onto that fuckboy.

Of course, that wasn't his main goddamn intention as soon as the arc was completed, he jammed his walking stick into the ass of the shitstalking assailant.

Calvin's eyes practically left their sockets in reaction. He hung space for a few moments, before the pain launched him forward into the air.

"OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOGGHHH!" Calvin screamed, clutching his rear, which inched in pain.

Calvin fell to the ground, struggling, unable to move. Every moment he couldn't move, his opponent had an opportunity to make an attack. He couldn't move his body, but he could still control his Ki. Straining himself, Calvin quickly erected a thick Ice Wall just high enough to create a half-dome that covered him until he could regain control of his body.

Well, that just fucking happened... then again why wouldn't it? He was the greatest f- oh, that thing came unhinged from his leg sort of... and his leg was cold as shitfrost! Shoving himself up, he ignored his internal fucking monologue screaming that there was damage done to his chest. Who fucking cared, Calvin College was about to land...

And The One? Well, he was going to fuck his shit up!

The One didn't waste any time as he sprinted forward... before a giant fuck you ice wall appeared in front of him... which meant he had to redouble his efforts, god damnit. Well, he was going to fuck this boy up one way or another!

Tossing his hat over the dome, The One put as much launched himself u- wait one fucking a minute. As he caught his awesome ass hat in mid air, he noticed that a part of the dome, well... didn't fucking exist. To him, it was more like one-fourth of a sphere in the ground, but what fucking ever.

Time to fuck shit up.

"MOTHER FUCKING GATLING ROCKET HAT, BIIIIIIITCH," he screamed, causing the noise to reverberate around the shield as a slew of rockets flew towards the wall, one measly rocket causing it to fall apart as it exploded... allowing the rest of the missiles to fly straight at Calvin.

Calvin's eyes widened as just one rocket shattered his entire dome, and there was still an entire horde roaring straight at him. He took blow after blow to his upper mid body, mostly face, unable to so much as lift his hands to protect himself. Yet, as the missiles collided against him, they caused his body to regain mobility. As the last rocket hit him, Calvin feld full control return. Well, almost.

The boy managed to stand up with one hand on his knee. Weakly, he made a finger gun with his free hand, pointed it directly at the one, and weakly muttered

"bang..."

Before he fell backwards and sprawled out. Just before he fell unconscious, Calvin raised one thumbs up, which quickly collapsed, defeated.

"K.O!" Andre shouted, followed by the roar of a wild crowd. Two paramedics jogged in holding a stretcher. They quickly picked Calvin up and placed him on it, and carried him to the Emergency Care Ward.

Sticking the landing, The One didn't have time to acknowledge that fuckboy being dragged off! Now that he displayed how badass he was on stage, it was time to milk the limelight for all it was mother fucking worth! In his landing, The One made sure to appear as if he was lunging out, head down as if bowing for playing their fucking role. His hat hand was extended out far off to the side, and the latter held close to The One's body as it could fucking would, with the cane near his hip as if he was sheathing a sword.

The timing, precision... he must of struck a cord as the crowd was insatiable with their roars and fucking cries! Yes, give it all to The One! Let this badass motherfucker know that he was the shit that would shit fury down the other contestants throats!

Twirling his hat and cane, he moved each of his arms in a methodical fucking fashion. The top hat landed straight onto his head with the cane grasped at the handle, pointing out at the fucking crowd.

"And looks like we all know the reason he is called The One!"

Shut the fuck up you cuckbu-

"Because he's The One stylish fighter who'll be moving onto the glamorous main event!"

... ok, you could have this one you bastard. Showboating until the next call would obviously be made, The One pointed his fucking stick up to where the camera obviously was. Mustering the biggest frown, he gritted his teeth as his eyes sparked with a flaring anger as he glared into it.

"Now you know why I'm THE. FUCKING. ONE. And don't you dare think of me as anything less you fucking bitch!"