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SkyeOfStars
Divorarel
N3v3rM0r3
Bork
LeeRoy
@Liliya
Gonad rose to his feet, convinced now that fighting on his knees would bring dishonor to the battle. But, the barbarian looked different. He looked flabby.
His once taut muscles now hung like fat, drooping chins. Even his cheeks resembled melting putty. What's more, his skin had become red, as if he had been sunburned through and through. He began to fall forwards, as though he had lost consciousness. Billuh might catch a whiff of what was really happening. A sort of premonition cast from the barbarian's body language. Most sentient beings, the ones with sense in them at least, would realize in their subconscious that the End had come, with a capital E. But then, Billuh wasn't like most sentient beings. Could a cyborg even be truly sentient? At any rate, this was different. Gonad was fighting something that was less of an enemy and more of an object, a thing that could inflict harm. The Beardforce was thrown for a loop by this, confused by the signals. Billuh had a strong chance.
Gonad's nose came to within three inches of the mat. His muscles, having been relaxed to the fullest extent of atonia and pumped fat with oxygen rich blood, contracted with a force that only could have been described as nothing short of outrageous. The skin would turn from blood red to bone white. For the briefest fraction of a second, the meat of Gonad's face was constricted back into a death's head grimace, every feature of the skull beneath visible. His eyes were black, gleaming pits. His blocky teeth were bared all the way to the jawline. His nose seemed to collapse into itself. As for the rest of the warrior's body, every fibrous, striated cord of muscle was impressed tightly against the flesh almost to the point of bursting through, the musculature of a perfect physical specimen revealed in full.
He phased through the distance between them as if it were but a single step, still inches from the ground. The technique that Gonad employed was known in wrestling as a Spear. A body-hugging shoulder tackle that drives an opponent into the ground. Should all proceed as intended, Gonad's left shoulder would crash into Billuh's body and the two would torpedo into the audience, bleachers exploding as if they were Black Cat firecrackers and aluminum girders flying to shreds. Good thing the fans were all rich, catcalling dicks. Who else would be able to gain access to an illegal death match stadium?
Referees and announcers alike would likely be unable to comprehend the high speed combat that could very well ensue should Billuh endure the spear, both fighters potentially descending into subterranean fisticuffs, coming to blows so fast and powerful that the floor beneath them would be unable to withstand the kinetic pressures, each kick, punch, and whatever else brutally marring the terrain. Certainly a solid step up from simply breaking the mat, but perhaps in this scenario the Beardforce worked both ways, each combatant's power receiving a dramatic boost as their ferocity increased. Billuh had a mighty beard, after all, and the Beardforce was inherently accessible to those with true manhood and beards most admirable. The ones fit to be known as the Beardlords. This was of course, assuming Billuh was responsive to the calling of the Beardforce. If not, neither fighter would be boosted and their capabilities would remain within reason. Regardless of their destructive capacities, Billuh may have had but one arm but his durability appeared to be a more than worthy match for Gonad's raw strength. Gonad was still but a mortal man, and each concussive impact would further damage his hands. Hell, at this rate he'd wind up attacking with the bony stumps of his wrists.
Gonad rose to his feet, convinced now that fighting on his knees would bring dishonor to the battle. But, the barbarian looked different. He looked flabby.
His once taut muscles now hung like fat, drooping chins. Even his cheeks resembled melting putty. What's more, his skin had become red, as if he had been sunburned through and through. He began to fall forwards, as though he had lost consciousness. Billuh might catch a whiff of what was really happening. A sort of premonition cast from the barbarian's body language. Most sentient beings, the ones with sense in them at least, would realize in their subconscious that the End had come, with a capital E. But then, Billuh wasn't like most sentient beings. Could a cyborg even be truly sentient? At any rate, this was different. Gonad was fighting something that was less of an enemy and more of an object, a thing that could inflict harm. The Beardforce was thrown for a loop by this, confused by the signals. Billuh had a strong chance.
Gonad's nose came to within three inches of the mat. His muscles, having been relaxed to the fullest extent of atonia and pumped fat with oxygen rich blood, contracted with a force that only could have been described as nothing short of outrageous. The skin would turn from blood red to bone white. For the briefest fraction of a second, the meat of Gonad's face was constricted back into a death's head grimace, every feature of the skull beneath visible. His eyes were black, gleaming pits. His blocky teeth were bared all the way to the jawline. His nose seemed to collapse into itself. As for the rest of the warrior's body, every fibrous, striated cord of muscle was impressed tightly against the flesh almost to the point of bursting through, the musculature of a perfect physical specimen revealed in full.
He phased through the distance between them as if it were but a single step, still inches from the ground. The technique that Gonad employed was known in wrestling as a Spear. A body-hugging shoulder tackle that drives an opponent into the ground. Should all proceed as intended, Gonad's left shoulder would crash into Billuh's body and the two would torpedo into the audience, bleachers exploding as if they were Black Cat firecrackers and aluminum girders flying to shreds. Good thing the fans were all rich, catcalling dicks. Who else would be able to gain access to an illegal death match stadium?
Referees and announcers alike would likely be unable to comprehend the high speed combat that could very well ensue should Billuh endure the spear, both fighters potentially descending into subterranean fisticuffs, coming to blows so fast and powerful that the floor beneath them would be unable to withstand the kinetic pressures, each kick, punch, and whatever else brutally marring the terrain. Certainly a solid step up from simply breaking the mat, but perhaps in this scenario the Beardforce worked both ways, each combatant's power receiving a dramatic boost as their ferocity increased. Billuh had a mighty beard, after all, and the Beardforce was inherently accessible to those with true manhood and beards most admirable. The ones fit to be known as the Beardlords. This was of course, assuming Billuh was responsive to the calling of the Beardforce. If not, neither fighter would be boosted and their capabilities would remain within reason. Regardless of their destructive capacities, Billuh may have had but one arm but his durability appeared to be a more than worthy match for Gonad's raw strength. Gonad was still but a mortal man, and each concussive impact would further damage his hands. Hell, at this rate he'd wind up attacking with the bony stumps of his wrists.
