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Post by "Unfettered" on Jan 28, 2008 2:11:15 GMT -8
RAEP, RAEP, RAEP, RAEP. =D!? Hit, the attack had hit his target. In fact, it was like the guy was just waiting for him to hit him. Some deranged look taking over his face... but "Unfettered", in the middle of his own attack had little time to notice or care. Always focusing on the next move. ...That is, of course, 'til he saw how quickly his opponent had risen back up.“… purity…” Deja---No. It wasn't.
Licking away blood from one's mouth? Toothy grin. Even the voice had a more... 'guttural' sound to it. In fact, all this guy needed now was a hat with a swastika, and an established laugh, and "Unfettered" could have very well found his heir to "Thrush". ...This would come as mindful musings of speculation later on, however, as the one called 'Saint' wouldn't allow him the chance.
He barely brought up his guard when it was quickly knocked away to his left, but blocking the shot to his head, his eye lighting with excitement, as he brought it up.. Only to have it be knocked away, and a stomp in his face. Blood flew into the air, as he stumbled backwards...
...In time to catch both feet in his stomach.
Flying backwards, crashing into the lockers. Cratering into them. Stunned. Plasma, platelets, blood... trickling down the metal, as he moved to free himself, moved and cut himself deeper.
Thrown off guard, not just by the raised up arms. No, it was the 'killer intent' that was being thrown at him, like an inescapable miasma. Goals. Goals. 'Saint', as he was now, wouldn't give him enough time to think without reacting first. Hence why.. if Saint continued to charge where "Unfettered" was, "Unfettered" would kick towards the punk...
The issue was, he was still stunned. And the kick would, regardless, miss. Therefore, if he had enough wit and time, he'd bring up his other leg, and to have the bastard dash on his knee, on the stomach. If he was fast enough. His arms were still stuck in the metal, as he wriggled to free them...
Goals.
Primary Objective: Defeat Saint.
Secondary Objective: Discover The Trigger Behind The Killer Intent.
Because suddenly... this 'Saint' had a lot more appeal to him. Possibly a candidate for the German's 'new group' in planning... But dominance had to be insured. He had to defeat this guy. |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 28, 2008 11:12:27 GMT -8
A quick look into the psyche of the student body president… metaphorically. Now imagine a person in the middle of a purely white room, in front of them is a jigsaw puzzle consisting of one thousand pieces. A time consuming ordeal to put that puzzle together, even for someone with a heightened intellect. Now to make it harder small children are running every which way high on sugar causing pieces to scatter about the room and the already completed sections to break back into the smaller pieces. Think you could finish? Back to the fight at hand. Saint rushed forward at full speed toward the indented Jonathan with one word in mind… destroy. He needed to save this body, wash away the sins of this world with his blood. Could they not see? This was the only way… soon the rest of them would join this youngster as soon as Saint was finished. Psychosomatic effect began to manifest as streams of blood began to seep out from his tear ducts and down his cheeks. Nonetheless he rushed forward without care or concern for what his counterpart was planning to do in defense, thus when the knee was raised up it collided with the abdomen of the sprinting psycho. Blood and vomit splashed against the back of the gritted pearly white as the muscles tensed whilst feet continued to push forward despite the knee digging further in. The pain was surging through the body and ignored. Once he could, the pillar reached back with his arms and unleashed a barrage of punches toward the man’s face. Right, left, right, left, right, left… and on until he was stopped or pounding nothing but mushy flesh, bone and the wall. The point of allowing the knee to dig in was to keep the man pinned, pain at this point was nothing as despite the metaphor time was short… even shorter should someone who knew Saint arrived. |
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Post by "Unfettered" on Feb 1, 2008 10:34:00 GMT -8
Hey... Hey... There's Someone I Want Ya To Meet... There was a heavy force slamming against his knee. It'd surely leave a bruise. But more noticeably was the amount of excess stomach fluid this guy had allowed to splash against his jeans. Wonderful.---
*THWACKTHWACKTHWACKTHWACKTHWACKTHWACK...*
"Unfettered's" head bobbed and weaved in between the punches some of the punches missing and, if too hard, would cut themselves against the broken metal behind him.
A good seven-fifteen seconds, before, he winded up his head, backwards..
And lunged forwrd, determined to attempt to headbutt this guy.
If this so called.. 'Saint' was too far away, "Unfettered" would simply rip his arms out from their metal traps, letting the metal tear away at it, carving up chunks, deepening cuts, and would proceed to dodge down to his down right to flail up his agonizing, but fisted left arm at the guy's head, before circling up to the right, and going down to the left. This time with his right arm. Fisted. And he'd continue, trying to get used to the pain in his arms.
...Unknown to "Unfettered", this was actually a loose version of the effective Dempsey Roll.OOC: Note - Defintely not as effective as the boxing move itself, however, since its much sharper, and involves a subsequent hook, bob, weave up, hook, etcetera. Only good at medium range... "Unfettered's" attack could best be described as 'flailing'. |
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Post by Deleted on Feb 4, 2008 2:27:17 GMT -8
The sounding of metal colliding with tightened flesh and bone was soon replaced by the sound of heads clashing together in a low dull thud. Saint stumbled backwards as a small gash formed on his forehead and began to leak blood down his face. The blow had more than dazed him, as would become apparent, however the flailing arm of his opponent slammed into his cheek and sent him reeling to the ground and across the hallway. These attacks had done more than damage and daze the pillar… going back to the previously used metaphor, the blows had knocked hundreds of puzzle pieces into place. The effects…
Writhing on the ground, young Zachariah held the sides of his head in agony, not of a physical kind but the mental version as he tried to regain control of his mind. Blood teared from the ducts in his eyes at a more rapid rate as he fought with himself, teeth clenched tightly in pain. The voices interchanged at random as he spoke through clenched teeth.
“…nO… stop IT… plEASe…arrhhhhhHHH!”
The student body president remained on the ground fighting with himself unable to make a move. A misconception might be made by those watching, it was not two separate personalities but two halves of the same whole. The anger and hate born in his past had been removed from the rest of his conscious mind as a way to save his sanity to so long ago. Ironic. As the student gained more control, preventing previous set offs from doing so, the hold when he was set off was that much stronger and controlling… nonetheless he fought it as helpful as it might be in such a situation.
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Post by "Unfettered" on Feb 8, 2008 18:57:09 GMT -8
T.K.O.? “…nO… stop IT… plEASe…arrhhhhhHHH!” Relinquishing his attack, he let the pain sop over his arms, as he watched the strange 'bleeding' come out of the boy's eyes. Crying blood. 'There's nothing sinister about it at all.' Breathing heavily. He looked about. All that crowding. Irritating. Why couldn't fights be one on one, or, at the very least, break out into brawls? Maybe it'd get the Enforcers out on their ass for once. No, everyone enjoyed watching...
...Damn hypocrites.
Entertainment?
This was a goal he was working towards, not some cheap show.
Grunting, his hands still tightly fisted, he'd quickly move to Saint. Seemingly dash over him.. which could be potentially dangerous---Except, right as his right foot was about to pass over him, he attempted to stomp it hard into the boy's stomach. And if that connected, and if it provided the desired amount of shock, he'd follow up, nearly simultaneously, with his fist in the boy's face, most probably the forehead.
Avoidable? Yes. Undoubtedly, this was a strong fighter, after all.
But now, "Unfettered" was gunning for a knock out...
For his own purposes.
...Listening to the 'Saint' scream in some sort of strange pain, a confused look crossing into his eye, but not showing on his face. As was usual. |
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Post by Deleted on Feb 10, 2008 6:25:56 GMT -8
There may have been a sense in the air as young Saint lay there in mental and physical anguish while his assailant geared up for yet another attack that the end was at hand, that every student who hated and opposed the system would get to see what they all wanted to see… a pillar laying motionless on the ground in defeat. Perhaps he could avoid the attack and continue to fight back, if he was not busy fighting himself. Without control he was nothing more than a target to be struck at will, incapable of moving away.
When the stomp connected with the abdomen of the pillar it created a response much like the previous knee that had struck there and caused blood, saliva and a small amount of vomit to spew into the air. In addition the forced caused the muscles to retract violently, which brought the student body president’s head up to meet the fist that followed suit of the stomp. The blow against his forehead and his weakened state made it impossible to prevent his head from slamming back against the hard tile floor of the school hallway. Blood began to seep onto the floor from a wound caused to the back of his head from the impact as the entirety of his body went limb… all consciousness leaving his body for the time being.
Those who hated the system got what they wanted…
… a pillar left cold in their own blood. Saint was beaten.
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Post by "Unfettered" on Feb 10, 2008 10:31:37 GMT -8
Starting Step Was "Unfettered" aware that he had just beaten a pillar?
No.
Was this an amazing victory?
No.
Was this a good fight?
...
A grin struck across his face.. the crowd around him starting to draw in clos---"Get ze fuck away."The movement stopped, some people in the crowd clapping for him, others booing, others just talking shit, many just beginning to gossip. Unable to discern anything they were thinking. But they weren't dispersing. Cracking his head upward, the blood hardening around his hair, he whipped himself about, whirling about. Stepping over his prey."GET AWAY UNLESS YOU VANT TO END UP JUST LIKE HIM."..Echo.
Slowly, the talking, the incessant, annoying talking did not cease. But they began to trickle away. There was nothing left to see, except the winner, who was just as badly bloodied as the loser... and the loser who had gotten into a mental state of... whatever.
Their blood mixed on the ground, as "Unfettered" finally stepped back. Thinking over. If the sudden change hadn't occurred, this guy may have won... but the differences in strength were more then obvious. Speed, however... that was outright amazing. What did he say that triggered such a change in personality?
It did not matter.
Stooping down, he'd pick up Saint, and have his chest on his right shoulder, as he'd hold him up by the waist. Carrying him to the nurse's office. And once there... excuse himself. He was in bad enough shape. Go home. Lick his own wounds.
...And mull over what had happened. |
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