Unbias walk-on (Open)

[Jeremiah Sykes]

OOC((Anything can come here. Fight, plot, social. Don't care.))

The same thing, daily. He asked for something new, they smirked and gave him slop. It was frustrating for a man who was his size to try and explain that he needed more than a peice of pizza or a slice of cheesy bread, yet his words just wouldn't compute, or so it seemed. He hated this school. He took a seat at his usual table, on the empty half of the lunchroom. Students seemed to constantly gather together, crowd around one another like a pack of rats, or sheep. They were afraid- afraid to be a target, afraid to be noticed. Uncivilized, spineless. Cowards. He spat on the floor to his left, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a cig. He stuffed the butt in his mouth, squinting his eyes under the shades as a plume of smoke puffed up past his eyes.

This seemed so nostalgic.

He went to class, he went home, he did everything a normal person did- yet he always found himself sitting here in the lunchroom and thinking the most. It wasn't even really lunch. Lunch had been over for a while, but his next period was open, and that left him back at square one. It happened to be that his only period that was open was at this time and it also happened to be the only time anyone felt the need to fuck with him. He should leave, go somewhere else, but the guy seemed not to learn his lesson. Or perhaps he knew what it entailed and he didnt care.

'Or maybe i aint gonna let some fucks push and bully me away from where i wanna be.'

Ah, so pride was the reason he kept coming back.

Regardless, Jeremiah reached down into his bag, pulling out a bottle of brandy, and began unscrewing the cap.

It was gonna be a long hour for him.

He needed something warm to keep him company. His first day back in high school, after all, shouldn't be spent sober.

[Mathew Amtrum]

I'm gonna fuck someone up today so bad.

Mathew was walking around the campus looking for trouble, his school classes were done for the day and he was just itching to start something, anything. It had been a while, or so it felt. He was lost only days before. Wondering what he wanted to do, who he was, if he should work to build something positive. Well fuck that, he was going to embrace who he was, and that was a trouble maker.

Storming through the halls his eyes darted from side to side looking for anything, he just wanted to ruin somebodies day. Tossing trash cans to the side as he pushed forward he kicked open the door to the cafeteria on the High School side of the campus. It didn't matter which part of the campus to him since he doubted anyone would stop him.

Entering the lunch room his eyes narrowed as he caught sight of someone. A kid he didn't know, but that was fine. Though the kid was about to find out he had come down with a serious case of the wrong place wrong time.

Mathew stormed in to the room, shoving tables and chairs out of his way as he beelined right for the kid. He wasn't being stealthy about it, he was making sure the kid knew he was coming for him.

[Jeremiah Sykes]

Jeremy turned, eyes latching on to the doors as they blew open, some students skittering out of the way to avoid the coming storm. As soon as those eyes locked on him, Jeremiah's heart turned frozen with terror. He stood, dropping everything, and took off, running for the front doors, tail between his legs.

That the story your expecting?

Life don't always play out like we'd imagine. Neither does this.

As soon as those eyes locked on his, Jeremy took a good, long puff on his cig. As the boy made his way through the massive lunch hall, practically blowing objects out of his way, the young Sykes blew out the acrid ash thickly. The kid was getting closer. Jeremiah stood, taking a good long drink of his alcohol, the bottle in his right hand while he used his left to toss his lunch table aside. The fellow would be eight or ten feet away, now. Jeremiah pulled the bottle from his lips, spewing the liquid contents in Mathews face and, more importantly, eyes. The giant male would do this at an instance when his could get the most trajectory and wide mist-like spewing. If it worked, He'd spin the bottle around in his hand and, with a violent swing, would try and smash it clean over the left side of Amtrums head and face.

Jeremiah Sykes had no idea who he was or what this little bastard wanted. He could see, by the looks in everyones eyes, that he was probably gonna get the holy hell kicked outta him. Still, a smile was on his face, his leather jacket and black glasses giving him just the right amount of flare to picked out of a crowd. Besides, a near seven foot tall student wouldn't be hard to miss. Yeah, he'd get fucked up, this he was sure of.

'Not like I'm about to go down without a fight.'

[Mathew Amtrum]

Mathew was closing the distance and people were clearing out. All except the kid who he was heading to. Either he was petrified with fear or he had some balls. It didn't look like he was petrified as he calmly continued to smoke so that meant he was ballsy. The kind of ballsy that came from not knowing who was about to fuck him up.

He was almost to his target, licking his lips in excitement his fists clenched preparing for the moment that he would be able to smash them in to his face. However he would have to delay that a moment, he watched the kid take a sip from what he was drinking and suddenly Mathew knew what was going to happen, it's something he might have done.

His arms went up to shield his eyes, just in time to protect them from the stinging sensation of booze being sprayed in to them. Lowering his arms quickly to see what was happening, he didn't have time to react before the bottle was smashed in to the side of the head. The glass shattered over Mathew's skull and the remnants of whatever remained would spill around them.

The kid was likely expecting Mathew to be out after that, or at the very least stunned. He didn't even blink, turning he would shoot his right fist hard and fast in to the kid's ribs, using the momentum of the turn with the punch to add a bit of force to it, just a way to say hello to the kid.

Following the right hook he would shift his weight assuming that the kid was going to be ready for another strike on the right side, bringing up a guard out of reflex Mathew would shift back to attempt and bring his left knee in to the guys torso, anywhere he could hit. Stomach, ribs, it didn't matter to him. He just wanted this kid to hurt.

[Jeremiah Sykes]

'FUCK! MY DRINK!'

That was the only real thought that passed through Jeremiah's mind. See, the bottle, having been 1/4 drunk, was now nothing short of a scatter-glass disaster. Using it as a weapon, though in the moment, was dumb. Now he'd have nothing to sip on after he woke up. Of course, he assumed he'd wake up later, since the blow to his ribs and cracking of bone gave him a wide measure of the males strength. His left hand, rather reflexively, came up to try and grip Mathews right shoulder, help him balance. Now, the knee was to be expected- being no amateur to a bar fight or two, and with people far more capable than one would imagine. Jeremiah stepped a little to the left, coughing as the sharp, stabbing pain in his side warned him of his action. The point of shifting left, even in so small a manner, was to lessen the blow of the knee to his ribcage.

The kid was fast, powerful, and had the body armor of a tank, it seemed. He would try and wrap his arm around Matts leg just below the knee and lift, trying to put Amtrum off balance. Then, rather simply, he'd step backward. The point of this was to try and put the kid in one of two positions.

See, the floor around Mathews feet was wet- either his other foot would slip and he'd be hanging in the air, trying to grab Jeremiah but unable to do so since Jeremy would keep that grip on the kids shoulder with his left hand, or he'd try and jump with it. Either way, something was gonna give.

[Mathew Amtrum]

Mathew was no stranger to fights either, bar or otherwise and he had been in this situation before. On both sides, a quick read of the situation told him just what he had to do. The kid was probably already hurting from the punch of his judging from the small crack he heard. Though it could have been in his head.

It was clear what he had to do, with the kid's freakishly large reach keeping him from pushing up to grab his head. Staying like this was certainly not an option. So Mathew would reach up to grab the arm that was gripping his shoulder, his body twisting and the leg that had been on the ground only moments before would now be heading straight for the kid's head.

However with Mathew holding the kid's arm his leg would have an obstruction, but that was fine as it would still hit the kid he was fighting, and Mathew's body would fall to the ground, his grip on the kid making sure that he fell too.

The down side of the plan was that Mathew would be landing on the broken glass, most of which would be on his back, which was protected by the very thick and heavy Earth Dragon Coat he was wearing, but not all of it would be there. Small superficial cuts started to bleed on the back of Mathew's neck, small shards of glass trying to dig in to him.

Gritting his teeth Mathew would shoot his head forward trying to headbutt the guy to get him stunned long enough to roll over and get on top of the kid, even if it would be awkward doing so.

[Jeremiah Sykes]

Perfect.

With the kid grabbing his arm and trying his rather awkward kick, it gave Jeremiah a rather rare opportunity. He would pull with his left arm, using the own boys attack against him. Tightening his hold with his right on on the boys leg, he jerked with his left arm and then pushed, so Mathew would be forced to do a sort of "mid air" crunch, if only slightly, before being forward backward again. Rather than simply fall to the ground, and suffer minor cuts, Jeremiah intended the students head to bounce off the ground, get a few pieces of that shit embedded in his skull.

Not only that, but the fuzzy vision Amtrum was likely to get would help too, maybe give him a little slack on that monstrously strong death grip on his left arm he felt a moment ago. Should his left hand get some leniency, he would pull on it as hard he could and, if it broke free, would look in amazement at the almost absurdly preserved smoke still between his fingers. A smile, before he'd waste his god-graced opportunity for attack on taking a very, very long drag from that smoke. Attacking would be pointless anyway- the boy was a god damned demon. Might as well get a little nicotine in him, feel a little flush in his nerves, right? Outcome wouldn't be no different, except the other way he wouldn't get another puff.

To hell with that.

Once done, and if he hadn't been assaulted/if everything went well, he'd flick the spent cig off to the side and let out a little sigh. Wonderful feeling. Taste wasn't too bad neither...

[Mathew Amtrum]

OOC: All non backlash nulls are used

IC: The kid wasn't bad, he knew what he was doing. Mathew was forced in to the midair crunch, his body moving until it was slammed on to the ground. Mostly as Mathew planned, his head smacking the ground hard and glass embedding itself in his skin. It hurt but it was all superficial. Mathew wasn't going to be beaten by shards of glass.

Another surprise for the kid, Mathew was tough and kept his wits about him, if he was Qi sensitive the kid might notice a faint glow around Mathew's body, his own Qi protecting Mathew's body, working in accordance with the symbols of his power. They protected his head when it smashed in to the ground and when the kid pulled away trying to break Mathew's grip he just grinned as he pulled inward hard. It would likely yank the kid forward and down on to him as he was apparently expecting Mathew to have been dazed from the blow, and if it was anyone else he would have been.

If he did fall down from Mathew's pulling he would be met with Mathew's free fist speeding upward to collide in to the kid's side wanting to break more of his bones. He was going to pay for the blood he drew.

[Jeremiah Sykes]

This guy was unfazed by any of his attacks, as though he were nothing more than a flea, hitting the side of a bull over and over. As the boys grip tightened and pulled, Jeremiah's body was forced over, the large man crumpling to his knees. Ah...ground fighting. Now this was the kinda shit he was talkin' about. Of course, as fate would have it, he would probably never get that final smoke, since the grip and the jerking-fall would cause it to flick from his fingers. Now, between the legs of Amtrum, he knew he was in a tough spot. Open ribcage, left arm clenched tighter than a new prison inmates butcheeks, Jeremy would be hard pressed to avoid incoming blows. Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't gonna plant some. But first, he needed to put himself in a more suitable position- the man didn't want those powerful legs wrapping around his waist, now did he?

Releasing the grip on Mathews left leg with his right arm, Jeremy planted his right palm on Amtrums lower abdomen, forcing it to remain on the floor. Point being? Well, with his weight now pinpointed on MAthews lower body, the former Dragon would be hard pressed to get much power, much leverage to his lower regions. Using this to his advantage, he would cock back his right leg and, being placed right between mathews legs, he would ram his massive kneecap into MAthews ballsack repeatedly. Of course, the blow to his ribs would probably falter, since Sykes' body would be slightly elevated now, and his extended reach would give him that advantage.

He tried to keep his eyes on Mathews core to predict the movements of his left fist- wouldn't do to have that powerful, nay, devastating left punch planted right into his Elow, would it? Jeremy was right handed- how could he spank the monkey with a broken right arm?

Yeah... that was DEFINITELY being watched.

[Mathew Amtrum]

Mathew grunted as the knee collided with his balls. It hurt, he wasn't going to lie. He didn't know the man that didn't get hurt by a kick to the balls. But it sure as hell wasn't going to end the fight. Each time the knee collided with his balls he grunted, but he had a plan. One that the glass poking through his flesh wouldn't let him forget.

Sure when the bottle collided with his head it broke, but the part of the bottle that the kid had been holding was still mostly fine, if sharp and pointy. Mathew's left hand reached out and grabbed the bottle before swinging it upward to try and slice the kid's torso.

As his left arm launched his attack Mathew's right would pull down on the kid trying to bring him closer, even if it caused him to push down harder on to Mathew's torso. This was timed between the knee attacks to Mathew's balls, for about when the kid was pulling his knee back to get ready to strike. If it all went well the kid would be unable to stop the glass from slicing in to him and possibly breaking off so that both of them would have embedded glass wounds. What's more is it would likely allow Mathew to push the kid off of him.

[Jeremiah Sykes]

Jeremiah Gritted his teeth. Mother fucker must have balls of steel. He glanced down at where he was hitting, and as he looked back up, he saw a very familiar bottle neck coming for his chest, a rather useful weapon he had discarded in favor of his own fists. Of course, being at the awkward state of balance he was in, he didn't have much of a say in the avoidance of this tool. His shirt tore easily, revealing nothing but chiseled, rippled muscle. Flesh and blood came into being, the glass digging almost crudely into his finely toned pecks. Being pulled down, toward the bottle, didn't help his situation any, but it gave him an opportunity most timely. Feeling the flame in his chest spread to his abdomen as the blood poured down his upper body, Jeremiah Sykes did the only thing a bald headed big-man could.

Using that right arm that was previously on Mathews stomach, he would grab Amtrums left wrist, trying to utilize that small frame of time between contact of the skin and reaction of the muscles to pull the arm aside. As this was taking place, his left fist, being held off to Jeremiahs left side, would plant palm down against the ground as Jeremiah would try and use this window of opportunity to throw a violent headbutt to the bridge of Mathews nose, using Gravity to add weight to his left hands planting on the tile. Still, even if Mathew did manage to hold it off the floor while it was extended, that would only add more weight to the blow.

It would just prevent Jeremiah from being able to push himself back upward for another strike, which, while unsatisfactory, was better than nothing at all.

[Mathew Amtrum]

He felt the hand move from his chest to grab his wrist that clasped the bottle as his left hand tried to plant down on the ground. The kid was underestimating Mathew's strength though and would not be able to pin Mathew's arm down to the ground. When the kid's head retracted Mathew's would as well, hitting the ground and glass, he gritted his teeth as he shot his head upward, meeting the kid's headbutt with one of his own.

His forehead would collide with the other kid's instead of his face. He suspected both of them would be ringing a bit after that. While recovering from the head blow Mathew would press again with the bottle, trying to push through the kid's strength and position to stab him again with the bottle. He knew it wouldn't last much longer before it was worthless and the glass broke off inside his flesh so he wanted to get as much as he could out of the bottle.

[Jeremiah Sykes]

As his head collided with Mathew's their reactions to the impact would be far different.

While Mathew would get a slight ringing, Jeremiah's head would bust open clean above his left eye, smear blood into the skin of his adversary. Of course, the pain was nothing short of excruciating, but he had dealt with such before, and knew that others would feel it different- even more powerfully. At this point in the fight, Sykes learned something. Sitting on the ground with Amtrum wasn't working out. For him, anyway. Moving up with his legs to try and push over Amtrums own, he would ignore the glass that was shoved into his skin, gritting his teeth at the extra pressure of him pushing into it. Once mounted, he would try and take payment for that glass bottle out of Mathews hide.

Punch after punch, cold-stone MMA style, right into Mathews face. He would shout while doing so.



Still, the glass, his ribs, his head- pain was mounting. His vision in his left eye was slightly fuzzy, blotted with blood. His knuckles slid with booze. If Amtrum released his left arm to gaurd, he would begin using both hands to try and pummel the form Dragons skull into the tile flooring.

[Mathew Amtrum]

The kid shifted his position on top of Mathew and began to punch him over and over in the face. Mathew would let the kid's other arm go to let him work over both fists. Mathew made no move to block and even tossed the bottle to the side where neither of them could use it. He started to laugh as the kid's fists collided in to his face over and over again. Blood started to trickle out of Mathew's nose at the kid's raining blows, still his laughter continued.

Then Both of Mathew's hands would shoot out to grab the kid's fists as they were coming down at him, and when he snatched them he would start to squeeze the kid's fists hard, a wicked grin started to cover his face as his eyes met with the younger man's, daring him to do something about it.

Mathew would do his best to crush the kid's fists and keep his arms from punching at Mathew, and he was prepared for the kid to try and headbutt him again. If he tried it Mathew would meet him once again head on. It was now his Jeremiah's move.

[Jeremiah Sykes]

Jeremiah wasn't an idiot. Headbutting, again? No thanks. That was a no-win situation. He would instead come to his feet, bringing up his right let and stomping down on Mathews face, silently this time. He wasn't yelling for Mathew to stop moving because he was desperate, or scared. He just yelled it for some sort of sound other than them grunting. Two dudes, on the floor, grunting and groaning...it was a little gross. And Sykes, being a slight homo-phobe, wanted to make it clear that he was straight and loving it.

Oh, back to the stomping.



If Mathew let go within that small period of time, the pressure and pull on his hands as well as his balance would shift, since there wouldn't be a grip to stabilize himself on. He would stumble left. Of course, with that, he'd get dizzy a moment- rush of blood to a head wound. Then, he'd turn around, planting a hand to his head as he tried to locate Amtrum with his one good eye, the single thought running through his head-