* _-Quickhand-_ "Meet me in the ring. You goin' down!" Young Joc, "It's Goin Down" would boom from the speakers, energizing the crowd as fireworks exploded from the ground at the entrance to the arena. He emerged from the smoke, his boxing robe enshrouding his body as the crowd was ecstatic to see there undefeated champion. He was being carried atop his throne, members of his entourage carrying him to the arena. He then dismounted the throne at the steps, as some lucky fan broke through the gate and got me to sign him an autograph. Afterwards he waved at his fans and made his way into the arena. He was 5'11, and about 150lbs. He was a super welterweight at the moment and he had dominated every weight class he had ever been in. He walked around the ring, awaiting the arrival of the Mercenary.
The Mercenary was kneeled in a desolate locker room, his hands wrapped tight. He clenched tight to the crucifix in his hand, praying to the Lord not for safety, but for forgiveness for what he is about to do. He rose and exited the locker room while pulling up the tight black shorts he opted to wear. "Face the Pain" by Stemm was his hymn to battle. There was no extravagant display of fireworks. It was just him, the octogon, and well...his victim. The Mercenary was classified as a heavyweight. 6'2, 220lbs, and covered from the neck down in battle scars. He entered the cage and slid on his fingerless gloves, clenching his fists tight. He looked at Quickhand and said nothing. With a shake of his head and a flex of his arms, he sought to speak not with his mouth, but with his fist...
* _-Quickhand-_ The referee asked "Are you ready?" to both fighters. They would both nod, and the battle would begin as he would remove his Philthy Rich Records robe, revealing his muscular body for a welterweight. He had grown into the size, and could hit as hard as a heavyweight. He was, however, well known for his speed despite his muscles. Little did anyone know, they were fast twitch muscles. From the outside it just looked like they were built to such extremeties it was questionable if they could experience pain, but on the inside, they were for much more than just show. The fighter seemEd to be bobbing his head to something, a toune going on inside of his head. He would then begin shuffling apprehensively into the range of Mercenary. Being in an orthodox stance, both arms held up with his hands tight to his chin, elbows tucked in to protect his ribs. He would close the distance between Mercenary and himself competely.
The Mercenary heard the sound of the bell and suddenly everything around the octogon went black. There was no one there but Quickhand. The demons began to speak to him, whispering a song of sadistic demands. The Mercenary changed his stance just as his opponent approached. he raised both hands at even height with his eyes, presenting open palms to his enemy..his sworn enemy. His right foot was positioned forward, elevated at the toe. A basic stance for muay thai kickboxing. He shuffled, keeping himself squared on his opponent at all times
* _-Quickhand-_ As he had stated before, he had completely closed the distance between himself and his sworn enemy, and since he had not protested it then it was a success. Being the shorter fighter, inside is where he wants to be. Getting inside the longer arms of the 6'2 fighter, he would accelerate an explosive, unseen left uppercut to the man's chin. His lead foot would be outside the lead foot of Mercenary, as was the desired position for a southpaw vs orthodox. The man with his foot on the outside has the power. He had his head towards the chest of Mercenary, almost laying in it as he would drive the uppercut upwards. Since the man ws taller, and I had gotten inside, it would come from below his eyesight.
Mercenary just because he was taller than his opponent did not mean he wasn't watching his chest and shoulders during the approach. He was certain that this fighter was a striker, and sought to make this match as uncomfortable for him as possible. When the two were within range, Quickhand made a grave mistake. He got damn near body to body with him. The Mercenary's hands extended beyond the head of Quickhand and hooked inward before drawing down toward the back of Quickhand's neck, aiming to clench. With his chin tucked into his chest, he grunted and ate the man's uppercut to the jaw. Adrenaline numbed him, focus taught him, hatred strengthened him. His right knee, which had been placed inside by the tactic of Quickhand, rose while he attempted to pull the man forward and down. The fast rising knee strike aimed to bury itself in the belly of Quickhand.
* _-Quickhand-_ As his head was being pulled downwards, he was forced to look down. Thus, he saw the rising knee and he rose his left leg to slam his kneecap against the man's right knee while simultaneously bringing his right elbow downwards against the man's kneecap, completely nullyfying the attack. As every man knows, a kick to the shin hurts a lot. The bone down there is very sensitive, plus with the impact of the elbow to the kneecap would be very painful. Maybe not to this guy though, who seemed to be able to cope well with pain. He'd then swing his head to my left which would be his right, breaking free of the hold on my neck and bringing his right foot forth. he would slide his right foot to the side, angling it so his ankle would be behind the ankle of Mercenary and the back of my knee would be to the back of his knee. He would then bring his right arm to the man's belly, and he'd attempt to push the man over, my right arm pushing him backwards while my right leg would be moving in the opposite direction, trying to trip him.
Mercenary was almost amused. The knee to knee contact would have been enough to stop the rising of the knee, but Quickhand made the mistake of trying to add some flare to it by dropping his elbow into the strike as well. From that position, where the knee is folded and the muscles in the thigh are bulged, striking the knee with the elbow was virtually useless...However, when he dropped his right elbow to throw the blow, the mercenary countered by releasing his left hand's hold around the back of the head snapping his left elbow in toward the right temple of Quickhand. His right hand, which was still on the back of Quickhand's neck at that particular point in time would jerk to the left, securing the head to that the forearm could meet the temple. This particular manuever would nullify keep the hold-break and throw attempt from even happening. [combo breaker!!!] due to the fact that he would have to deal with this offensive manuever before moving forward. (Time simply will not allow you to do so many moves in one turn uncombated. Sorry buddy)
* _-Quickhand-_ As his elbow had dropped to intercept the knee of Mercenary, his hand was still up by his temple, so the man's forearm or elbow shot, whichever it was would be blocked. Also, since the man had not dodged the knee to the shin the shin bone of the man would become slightly fractured. Not enough to stop the fight, but enough to make it hurt hella bad when he walked on that leg. Since the man's left arm was now on the outside of my right arm. This meant his body on his left side was left unguarded. Taking advantage he would explode a shovel hook into the mans unguarded ribs, turning his hip into the punch. The shovel hook was right handed, and he was right handed fighter. This was his power punch, his trump card. This could very well be the end of the fight. <end>
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It seems that my accepting that the knee to knee contact was enough to stop my knee to his stomach wasn't enough as acceptance of a strike to Mr. Quickhand. Quickhand actually believes that he's capable of fracturing the shin of a muay thai kickboxer with a knee-strike that goes from the ground up. Mind you, he has no leverage of anykind. He's just lifting his knee. I honestly think the blow to the stomach should have been taken because I had in him a clench and used his body to gain leverage to throw a more powerful knee-strike. However, because I'm a good sport, I accepted his defense. However, I do not condone godmoding in any form.
Mercenary pain was a cancer. It was a signal sent by electronic pulses from the body to the brain. The mind of a soldier learned to cut pain from his mind. Right now, there was no pain. Though Quickhand believed a hairline fracture had formed in The Mercenary's shin, right now, there would be no pain. However, since he did slam his elbow against the right hand of his opponent, his opponent would be forced to draw back in order to even throw a shovel-hook. When he felt the hand draw back, he instantaneously dropped his left shoulder and thrusted his left shoulder toward Quickhand's abdomen while using his left arm to scoop toward the back of quickhand's right thigh. This would cause the hook to land on his arm, actually deflected in defense by the forward movement of the grappling motion. His head was position on the left side of quickhand, and his right hand was pressed toward quickhand's forearm. With his right foot he thrusted hard, pushing upward at roughly 40 degress. It was an attempt to perform a quick takedown.
* _-Quickhand-_ Since his head was already sort of brought down, his eyes were looking straight at the upper body of Mercenary. In other words, it was very easy for him to see the shoulder move and anticipate the incoming hand. He would perform a sort of one legged sprawl where he would send his right leg back, leaving the man's hand to grab air as my left arm would come over to brush against the outside of his left elbow, sending his arm to the side as I would use my quick footwork to juke to the left of Mercenary, my left arm riding his to then eventually snap up under his armpit and interlock his arm against his chest. Now pivoting behind the man, he would bring his right arm over to come from under his other armpit and lash across his chest, the right hand being locked in his curled up arm. He had the man in a yolk, his neck being squeezed tighter and tighter every second as he would lean down with it, trying to bring the taller man down some so I can put even more power into the yolk, squeezing with all his might as if his life depended on it. Would this be the end of the fight?
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And yet he can magically shuffle his way out of this pretty much point-blank range takedown? Then he had the nerve to say I was godmoding? In re-reading this, I almost consider quickhand not even worth fighting.
Mercenary: the little weasel scrambled back out of his grip, the grapple missed, but such was no big deal. When Quickhand sought to bear down and attempt his clench, he would be met by an opponent who refused to remain still. He pivoted just as his opponent came back toward him, remaining squared up on him. He raised both his fists and took a step back, putting some distance between the two, reassuming his stance. Once again, they were back at square one.
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Again, he tries another one of those over extensive manuevers only to have the combo broken again. Back at square one.
