Fight or Flight (THEJustin)

[Dyne Burerra]

OOC: I'm going to try 1st person role-playing. I haven't had too much experience with it, so bare with me.. If I find it too hard for me to do, I'll switch to 3rd. Hope this wasn't horrible.

So here it was.. My first day at my new high-school. I had an odd feeling that this place was going to be different then any other place that I've been too. It was much bigger, that could be easily said. And from the crowds I saw, I could tell this school was fool of people I hated. Bullies, gangsters, the works. But I wouldn't let it bother me right now. I had no reason to ruin my first day at this high-school.

I would suck the final drag from my cigarette, the smoke rising up and away from my body as I wandered toward the first main building I came to. I didn't really know where I was going, but I was sure that it wouldn't take long for me to figure it out. It wouldn't take long for me to get use to this place. I had a knack for getting the hang of things rather quickly. As the cherry burned out, I was quick about squeezing the filter between my fingers and flicking it away. My eyes followed it to the ground, and the lifted once more as I carved m y way through the crowds, toward the set of doors which would lead me inside the monstrous compound that was #259.

My left arm would swing gently at my side, my right hand lifting up to brush a few strands of my dirty blond hair from my view. It would soon drop back to the strap upon my right shoulder, the messenger bag which held just about anything I needed on my first day was what hung there. And as my shoes tapped against the cement walkway, I allowed my amber-hued eyes to glance about the courtyard once more, sliding from girl to guy, just trying to learn some faces, and to learn who to be careful off.

But alas, turning my sight from my path, I had been moving forward, rather carelessly. I didn't realize that I was coming rather close to someone, and since I wasn't paying attention I would soon feel my body push hard against another. My head would snap forward, as I would immediately apologize for being so rude.

"Oh, I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to bump into ya'."

[Stu Pott]

Standing in the hall, he read the paper. It had his schedule. It had every class, their times, the teachers, the room numbers.

But damned if they gave actual directions.

He scratched his head absently, and then an itch upon his cheek. Suddenly though, he found himself poking himself in the eye.

~AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH~

What the hell?! Someone had bumped into him. He whirled around, nearly levelling four kids in the process as his bag made a sweeping motion, clearing a circle around him. He stared at the boy. Dirty blond hair fell disorderly around his head. As the boy breathed out his apology, he smelled the faintest hint of cigarette smoke.

~A punk... likes his fags...~

The other boy was young. Way too young for cigarettes. Amos bent down towards the boy, whom he towered over by almost a half a foot.

"A little brat like ya self shouldn't be hanging with those fags, you know? That shite'll kill you with just a skosh of it.

Also, bumping into me will get you messed up, wanker. I ain't no staple in this little pisser, but I can still kick ya teeth in, savvy?

Just be careful where you walk, ya toff.

He looked back down at his paper.

[Dyne Burerra]

A little brat like ya self shouldn't be hanging with those fags, you know? That shite'll kill you with just a skosh of it.

Also, bumping into me will get you messed up, wanker. I ain't no staple in this little pisser, but I can still kick ya teeth in, savvy?

Just be careful where you walk, ya toff.

I simply blinked as the boy in front of my spoke. His words hit clearly, but they really didn't bother me. I was use to kids like this by now. After all, moving around as much as I have, I didn't have a lot of time to make friends, but I had plenty of time to make enemies. I would simply smile as I stared toward the one who talked to me in such a rude manner. My right hand would drop slightly, resting bent near my midsection. I didn't dare drop it complete, just in case this fool felt the need to try and prove he was more then talk.

"I apologized. And I do believe you owe me some kind of apology for being so rude."

Thats all I wanted. But for some reason, I could sense that I wouldn't get one. In fact, I felt like I had just signed a contract to fight. This kid didn't seem like he was one to joke around. But I really didn't care. Sometimes, when you enter a new domain, you needed to prove that you were able to take care of yourself. If this kid wanted to fight, then a fight I would give him. I would promise myself that he wouldn't walk away with all his teeth intact if he really wished to throw down. I could feel excitement begin to build as well. So I would edge even closer to the knife.

"Or do you even know how to apologize?"

[Stu Pott]

"I apologized. And I do believe you owe me some kind of apology for being so rude."

Yeah, right.

He began to walk forwards, towards the boy, when he spoke again.

"Or do you even know how to apologize?"

OI?!

He continued walking. However, he dropped his shoulder, and drove it inwards, towards the boy's chest. The attack was somewhat subtle, as it would look like he was just walking on past him, until it was too late.

Yet, he was smirking the entire time, one half of his mouth tugged to one side. His blue eyes pierced towards the other boy as he did so. He was loose in his attack, as though he was made of liquid.

Part of his style. Silky smooth.

[Dyne Burerra]

The kid would come forward with a relatively hidden attack. I had saw him come in, but I decided that it would be best if I waited. So that I could see exactly what was in store for me. When he dropped his shoulder, I realized what was coming, so I tensed my muscles the best I could, and prepared for the impact. As soon as I felt the blow to my chest, I was ready to go. Sometimes it took me a hit or two before I finally got my head in the game. But now, I was prepared to slam this kid for what he had done.

The shoulder would connect and my body would begin to slide backwards slightly. This is where I would strike, as I moved away. It would give me exactly what I needed to pull off a rather impressive attack. As I moved backwards, both arms would lift up and commit themselves to the stance of a boxer. That right out would move sharply, as I would throw it in for a quick right hook, aimed to land hard upon my opponent's left cheek. And since Boxing often held combos, I planned to follow up on the attack, moving my right arm back toward my body to guard, while my left arm would shoot foreward in the form of a quick little jab, aimed to simply distract.

[Stu Pott]

~Good... A boxer.~

The Chest strike wasn't meant to exactly injure the boy, but was made for him to commit to the attack. He felt the boys army come up, and then a sudden arm movement. He was attacking.

A right. He assumed it would be followed by a left. Luckily he was right.

As the right hook came, he rolled to his own right, across the boys body. His backpack flew from him, impacting against the wall. It slid downwards, like a sack of potatoes, as it smacked against the ground. As the hook came around, it would turn the boy, allowing his left jab to come. Amos leaned to his right again at the quick jab, and forced his right hand to push the jab away, and with his own left, delivered a strong hook back at his opponent.

The fluidity of his movement was amazing, the grace in which he moved staggering. He judged that the two were of equal strength and ability, but he knew his opponents style, one that he had once used back in his earlier days.

In London.

Come on now, ya toff. you got more in ya than this pisser showing.

[Dyne Burerra]

A smirk would slip upon my face as I watched the action unfold before my amber eyes. I wasn't stupid, I attacked knowing full well that most initial strikes never hit their target, I had plenty in mind when I had swung, and I was quite prepared to switch up tactics, if the need arose. And I would do so, as my right hook had missed, I hadn't decided not to return it to guard, instead I had let it sit there for a moment as I sent my left to jab. My jab would be knocked away, but fortunately for me, I could read body language well, and being a boxer I knew many of the counters in which an opponent fighting with their fists could attempt to do.

As the left hook came roaring in, I would move in the same fashion in which my opponent had moved. I would roll my body to my left, dropping slightly so that kid's left hook would slide over the top of my head. And as I would straighten up, I would attack. Lifting that left arm of mine, which I would have brought back to my side as soon as it had been deflected, I would shoot it up in a quick and fluent manner, to slide up under the hook my opponent had sent, aiming to slam my knuckles forcefully into his chin. A expertly throw uppercut.

[Stu Pott]

~Ahh, to be so brash~

Amos watched as his left arm punched over the boy's head, and as the boy rolled much like himself. He also watched as his hand recoiled quickly and then struck out again, his speed quite good. He watched it arc. But he wasn't watching idly.

No, he was moving.

As soon as he realized his punch was going to miss, he threw his arm outwards, extending it, away from the other boy. With his other hand, he shot it across the boy's body, not aiming to hit him. However, as the boy would uppercut, he would force his right arm backwards.

Normally, not really doing anything.

However, he had other limbs. Quick acting, and in close counter, he kicked his right leg out, towards the back of the other boy's left leg, as they were now standing facing the same way (After Amos' small turning move), and as his right arm pushed against him, his right leg would push against him as well, in the end causing his concentration to be changed.

The idea was to throw the boy off balance, and onto his ass.

[Dyne Burerra]

It seemed that I hadn't made made my attack. It was slightly disappointing, but I figured that I could make it up later. And as careful as I always was, I glanced downward in time to see this guy's leg move, but it wouldn't save me. I hadn't been able to react quick enough, and so I was sent backwards from the leg trip, and I fell to the ground upon my ass, with a barely audible thump.

I wasn't completely screwed though. If I was careful, I could easily land a blow that could change the fight if my opponent felt the need to come in too close. As soon as I have landed, I prepared myself. My feet would press against the ground and I would push myself away from him with my feet, hands near my face, ready to strike if I felt the need to do so. It was all up to this European? friend here.

[Stu Pott]

Justin was still standing. He waited. Fighters of his caliber didn't win by striking at a grounded opponent, though he knew he could incapacitate the boy with a few quick moves.

He waited. If he wanted to call it off now, he'd be okay with it.

If not, he'd beat the boy down again.

"Come on now, boy-o. Little bloke like yourself gonna get hurt doing this right right?"

[Dyne Burerra]

Come on now, boy-o. Little bloke like yourself gonna get hurt doing this right right?

I would take caution as I pushed myself up back onto my feet. It seemed this kid had something against striking downed opponents. I did not have that same feeling though. If this dude was to drop, I would take advantage of that. But right now, I needed to make sure that I concentrated on landing the blows I needed first. For now, I would simply stand up, lifting my arms upward again, slightly in front of my face, and I would wait. Patience was something he had plenty of at this time. No reason to rush in and chance getting himself hurt.

"What is fighting without pain? I like what you bring, but I don't think you have it in you to bring enough to put me down."

[Stu Pott]

Amos laughed. Hard. His head came down after the laugh, a wicked smile set upon his features, as his eyes glared hard into the soul of his enemy.

Not enough power, what? I dare say, ol' chap, but I've got power coming outta my ears.

Boy-o just don't realize he's done for yet.

He stood, his hands dropping to his side, a lithe stance, shaking himself free. He prepared his liquid movements, ready to dodge, instead of attack.

If he could wear down his opponent, it would be a quick match for him.