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Post by "Unfettered" on Mar 23, 2008 10:11:14 GMT -8
"What's In A Name?" The boy began to take the defensive. Good. Gut. Even an attempt to copy his boxing stance. Grinning, the glaring did not falter, the gaze did not divert. A returned grin... ---Hmm?"By the was, I'd like to know the name of the man that I'm fghting." Chuckle.
Blown out into full laughter, until the German's whole body was shaking... "...Boy...""Mein name dependz on how you fair, from here on out."---!!!
A strange look in his eyes, his bouncing boxing-stance absolutely rigid. Letting the boy have the first turn, yet again. A plan brewed, and already being put underway... |
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Post by queya on Mar 24, 2008 16:41:44 GMT -8
"Mein name dependz on how you fair, from here on out."
Jon began to wonder at this latest comment. He thought to himself, does this guy have several names? After a while of just standing there, he realized that the german was waiting for him to make the first move. Jon then begna to feel an emotion he had not felt since his mentor was killed: Fear. Jon knew that if he didn't make a move first, he would tire out, because his wounds and bruises were still taking their toll on him. He decided to go all out on the german. This series of attacks could only end in two ways: He would finish off his opponent, or his opponent would stand victorious over his beaten body.
Jon tensed up, and leaped, but not toward the german. He leaped towards the wall to his right, the german's left. While in air, he curled into a ball, so his feet landed on the wall. He pushed off the wal with all his strength and crossed his arms in front of his head. This attack was meant to throw him off balance. If he fell, Jon would land on top of him and unleash a series of superfast punches while he was on the ground. If he did not fall, Jon would start an hurricane of punches. If his opponent managed to hit him in mid-air, only God would be able to help Jon.
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Post by "Unfettered" on Mar 24, 2008 22:50:22 GMT -8
German Design 'Come then... show me your true abilities.'
The sense of calm. He was a junior, after all... hardened. And yet still not as strong as some of the others at this school. Watching with intensifying curiosity, as the punk was holding himself up, tensing in the mimicked boxer-stance that meant only one thing: A morph of attack. No jabs, no straights? That was disappointing---Was it?
Grin.
Speed. Jumping to "Unfettered's" left, the punk sped off towards the wall, landing nicely, horizontally, before jetting off towards the German. A fine finesse... a lot of potential. ---Holy shit, this was---
*WHOMPF*
With crossed arms, the punk slammed himself into "Unfettered", the over-aged punk taking a step back, deepening his footing into the ground to absorb the impact (hah, absorb this? Yeah right...), or more rather... to take the attack. Silence the momentum, softening it with his left arm, which screamed in pain. No, this bought the right arm enough time to elbow the punk away, back to the left. Possibly into the locker, if it was a full-on hit...
But a bruised body?
Bleeding, grunting?
The will to fight remained... And even in this, "Unfettered"would (if the above was successful), step back, and re-direct his boxing stance towards the punk, ready as ever, swelling left arm."...Cheh..."This was more than interesting. This was getting dangerous for "Unfettered"...
...
KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE.
ALL ACCORDING TO PLAN. |
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Post by queya on Mar 25, 2008 14:23:56 GMT -8
Jon was successful in his leap off the wall. He felt his hit go home, and in those split seconds he felt the german slide backwards. In those seconds, he also felt a sudden overwhelming pain in hsi left shoulder. He realized that the german had slammed his elbow into Jon's left shoulder. The power behind the hit made Jon fly to the side, and he crash landed, finally rolling to a halt ten feet away. He got up slowly, and that was when he realized that his left arm was now dislocated. He gritted his teeth and snapped his arm back into place. Without checking if his opponent was ready or not, he charged leaping and spinning in air to get a quick sweeping kick. He was starting to feel numb all over, because he was internally bleeding. He had to finish this fight soon. Without checking if his attack had connected, he started to punch with his right arm, his punches a blur, his targets varying. One punch aimed at the face, and the next split second, another at the stomach. jon was putting all his speed into his punches. He was giving it all he had...
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Post by "Unfettered" on Mar 27, 2008 0:53:21 GMT -8
OOC: I'm assuming you're throwing a lot of punches at me, from the way you're posting... but if that isn't the case, PM me to fix it, and I'll edit.Fruits Of Labor
Theme Song: Poison by ParagonX9 Sensations of pain and annoyance was irking him throughout his body... But he bore through with the pain.
...Something felt good in that punch, after all.
That popping sound?
His plan was working. A devilish grin crossed his face, growing cocky, but his body still just as cautious, holding out for his defensive boxing stance. Resilience. The popping sound meant something had snapped out of place... but what---Holy...
A left kick went slamming into his right side. Barely tightened up in time... in fact, the force of the kick had rocked "Unfettered" to the side, leaving him breathless. But only for a mome---
*WHAP* *WHAP* *WHAP* *BAM* *WHAP*
Face, stomach, shoulder, air, face, face, stomach again... Blood began past "Unfettered", just as his arms came back into focus, slowly beginning to deviate the hits, slowly picking up to pace, moving his head accordingly, so the blood wouldn't blind his remaining eye, moving slightly to evade/block hits, so as to conserve energy, regain his composure.
Whittling each other down..."Strong..." was all he had enough time to mutter out.
He knew who would tire out first. Fatigue was ragging at the German's body, but it could still hold up for a while longer... But at this moment, this final burst of desperation... "Unfettered" was struggling to keep up with the movements of one arm.
Hah.
The power of one arm...
How nostalgic.
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Post by queya on Mar 27, 2008 5:55:53 GMT -8
Jon saw that his opponent was not giving up, so he decided to change things up a bit. He was going to attempt a move that reguarly required two hands, but in this case, it would have to do.
Jon put his remaining hand on his opponent's shoulder quickly and sprang up into the air. He was attempting a front flip over his opponent. If he made it over the german, he would kick out with both feet, thereby htting the geran in the back. His push up into the air had taken his remaining strenght, so this would be his last move that required him to do any flips or anything. If his opponent hits him in mid-air, he knew he was done for...
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Post by "Unfettered" on Mar 27, 2008 19:28:56 GMT -8
Life Or Death, Deal Of The Junge Deutsche
Theme Song: Industria - 2 by Trevor West (AlexanderZero) Blur, blur, blur... rushing past him. Every time, scrimping by him, pounding the air, banging at the German's eardrums. Scraping pieces of skin away.---In fact, "Unfettered" 'was so focused on dodging', 'so' jaded to the feeling of the rough touch that while moving quickly to the right, he didn't even comprehend that he was being held onto, until the amount of pressure forced his left shoulder even further down.
Grunt... Good. Gut. Gut.---*SLAM*
'Fumbling' forward, as the momentum of the kick forced him forward, towards the locker room. But before he could smash into it, his right foot went a little further up than normal, crushing into the locker, providing enough flow for his left foot to follow suit, and direct his trajectory up the wall.
Following up by throwing his arms behind him, his legs forward, he spun-flipped forward-up, twisting at the hips, quickly enough to position himself forward towards the punk. Landing hard... In fact, as he landed, he stayed down... Bringing himself up only to a slight crouch. Not even looking at the boy. But a strange look on his face..."Gut. Strong. Fast. Inventive. Creative..." Both his arms pounded into the floor, palm open, pressing his entire upper-body up. He'd use the reflective (but painful) action to bring up fists up, bleeding, fisted... but only half-way up. Not quite 'defensive', nor 'offensive'.
The only thing that did not change was the strange look on his face, this 'look' in his eye."You have potential... vy not vork for me? Or at least, hear me out, ja?"*Subtle Stomp* Quietly pushing himself up to his left leg, to a semi-crouch."...Zat, or you can zee how strong I really am..."Click. Click. Click.
What did 'that' mean? The German was bleeding, scathed all over... Looking closer to defeat than the punk. ...Unless...
...? |
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Post by queya on Mar 28, 2008 17:24:27 GMT -8
Jon was ready to give up. He knew he should have picked someone else to fight.
"You have potential... vy not vork for me? Or at least, hear me out, ja?"
Jon was somewhat surprised, and he would have replied if he wasn't so tired. Even though he was tired, he tried not to show it, keeping his hands in a defensive stance in front of his face. Keeping his hands up was demanding alot on him, for he knew he had at least a few broken ribs and a lot of bruises that hurt like hell.
"...Zat, or you can zee how strong I really am..."
Jon already feared the german, but hearing this frightened him even more. He kept his stance for a few more mineutes, and then he could not help it. He stumbled forward, bumped into the german, and fell on his back on the floor.
"Before i lose consciousness, tell me your name."
Jon was rapidly approaching unconsciousness, but he wanted to know the name of the german. He wanted to know who beat him.
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Post by "Unfettered" on Mar 29, 2008 18:10:33 GMT -8
'Freed' ...There was some waiting, as the punk held up his fighting stance. Already, thoughts were beginning to occur within "Unfettered's" head that this boy was tougher than he thought. Again, he waited, however, before time finally passed judgment, and the boy fell forward, towards the German, before falling back..."Before i lose consciousness, tell me your name." Gently... the Junior walked bit by bit, towards the boy, too proud to drag his already weary body, crouching to the left of the boy."...Unfettered."If nothing more was said, the German would quietly pass his hand over the boy's face, two fingers going over the eyelids, in a downward motion, indicating for the boy to sleep, if he hadn't already passed out by then.
...Now was a time for consideration. Looking down the hallway, he mentally mapped out how far it would take to get to... Sigh.* * * * * * * * * * * * * As the nurse tended to the boy, fitting him snugly on one of the open beds, closing the surrounding curtains about him, the German would look in from the tiny glass window of the door, before walking off. Grinning to himself..
*COUGHCOUGH*
*SPLAT*
...Lowering his hand from his mouth, he looked at the blood. Damn. Looked like he was pressed to his own limits...
---Kekekekekekekekekekekeke. Perfect. He'd meet again with the boy soon enough...
After he licked his own wounds. Another day. Another day.OOC: This thread doesn't have to end this way, if you choose. PM me if you do not like this... but, if you're fine with this, then we both get +1 EXP for our efforts. Well done. ^_^ |
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