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Thread: New Peaks Academy: Fight School - IC Thread

  1. #11
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    Another night alone. Another night crying himself to sleep. Kyami was having a tough time with things as it was, but he knew that he needed to go to sleep in order to get up for classes. He was doing very well in his classes. All A’s so far, and to think he was as exhausted as he’d ever been. Fight after fight, he proved that he was one of the top freshman of New Peaks. His record was unbelievably solid, and yet his still managed to balance a boyfriend, homework and preparation for a tournament. Another tournament. It plagued his mind over and over. The last tournament he was in the top 3, this time he hoped to make it further, but there was never any solidarity as to what position one would take in the fight. All you could do was your best and sometimes that would land you in the bottom.

    The sun peaked through his blinds and he looked over at the empty side of his bed. He sat up, realizing that he would be late for class if he didn’t get dressed. Slowly he stood up, and made his way towards the bathroom. A quick shower later and he was in his room again, getting dressed in his normal attire as of late. Instead of the colorful garbs he wore upon his initial arrival at New Peaks, he now wore black, and dark colors. Today he decided to wear black skinny jeans with black knee high flat boots and a dark gray long sleeve shirt which he pulled the sleeves up to his elbow. He combed his hair and gelled it in a sort of swoop like fashion before grabbing his watch, phone, keys and backpack.

    Another day at New Peaks and yet he wasn’t really happy. Sure he was happy whenever he was with Jun, or Kyle, but things have changed for him, this new depression he was facing was taking a lot to deal with. The school psychiatrist had prescribed him medication which didn’t help, but he still tried his best to be happy. He hated causing others discomfort whenever he was around, or being the “party pooper” that many associated those with depression. He walked across campus towards his first class of the day and hopefully this would be a great day, hopefully he could make it through this day without feeling like crap.


    CURRENT TIME
    Kyami answered a question the instructor had asked and watched as the instructor nodded and began to scribble something on the board.

    “That’s it for today class, remember you have an Essay due next week, so make sure to get that done, and remember to read chapter 17.”

    Kyami jotted down the due dates for everything and simply slid his books back into his backpack. He stood up and left the class. As he was leaving, he received a text from Jun and Kyle at the same time. Kyle’s message asked if he was doing alright to which he replied with a simple “I’m fine” before he focused on Jun’s message. He was telling Kyami that he would be meeting Vince at the rec center. Rolling his eyes, he began his reply.

    “I’ll be there shortly, see you soon, love you.”

    Pressing send, he pushed the phone into the pocket of his black jeans before heading in the direction of the rec center. It didn’t take him long. He avoided most eye contact and if someone stopped him asking for a fight, he ignored them or politely declined. When he reached the rec center, he entered in and saw a few students along with Vince and Jun. Moving towards the wall, he didn’t say anything to anyone and rested on the adjacent wall.
    Last edited by RisingPhoenix; 04-05-2016 at 07:08 AM.
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  2. #12
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    REC Center

    Leaning against the wall next to the vending machine, Nero was relaxing, taking it easy, enjoying his can of soda. He loved soda, yet very rarely treated himself to it, making these few moments very pleasing. His tranquility was broken by the Italian Hotshot, Vincento entering the room, suggesting people should start sparring. Nero shrugged. He had no intention of fighting anyone today, he was still a little sore from his training session.

    That is - till he walked in. Dan God Damn Williams. The most obnoxious douchebag in all of.. America. Dan locked eyes with Nero, the South American crushed the can in his hand before tossing it aside, not moving his eyes away from Dan, whom walked towards the ring. "I'll fight the Mexican." Dan said, pointing at Nero whom grunted. "Ecuador, idiot." His accent breaking through, as he headed towards one of the empty rings.

    Nero shrugged. He really wasn't happy with all of this, yet, Dan had been getting on his nerves lately, they had a lot of classes together and his ignorant behavior wasn't acceptable anymore. Someone had to show him his place. Might as well be Nero. Hit him really hard in his stupid freaking face.
    So this is how my day is going, dios mio.

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  3. #13
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    Class ended and it found Ryuko with some free time. She put headphones on to listen to some music, singing along to the song playing, "One Puuuuuuuunch! Senjou, hissou, shinjou saikyou! Nan datten da! Frustration! Ore wa tomaranai!" Of course, she didn't scream it, but was fairly loud as she walked the well-worn concrete of the path. It was warm out, but she was used to wearing wigs at cons full of sweaty guys, so it was no different.

    Her school year had been pretty quiet, a few challenges here and there, but nothing major. It was almost like she was blending in, like a real ninja! Maybe today she would jump into the forefront. Yes, that might be a good idea, that's the ticket!. In her idle wanderings, she found her way to the challenge board. Almost as if it was fate. Fate, destiny, luck, or whatever it was, she was here. Taking out her phone, she open her 'New Peaks Availability App' to search for an adequate challenger. Ah yes, here it be. She filled it out, challenging her chosen fighter. It had been a while since she challenged someone, possibly before the last tournament, and rarely anyone had come to see it. It was upsetting, to have so little a crows, when most people can draw at least a hundred spectators. Maybe having it in the middle of the night was a bad idea? Maybe.
    Last edited by Cfavano; 04-06-2016 at 11:49 AM.

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  4. #14
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    Cyst got up from the floor, brushing herself off before she noticed Vince walk in. Oh, thank god... She was starting to think this was all a scam, of some kind. Wouldn't be the first time she was tricked like that, but she was glad that this wouldn't add to the tally. When he said that the two would fight, she nodded, offering a small grunt before hopping into the other side of the ring. She was more excited than she looked, but that look was of determination. He was the second best among their class. She got eliminated because of a piece of dust. No matter how much he respected her, she had something to prove.

    She turned towards him and got onto her knees, bowing down before standing up and bowing again. She almost never did two bows, but she felt she needed to, this time. Like it was necessary. Good luck, maybe? Or maybe to ensure that Viktor was watching her. That he could see her finally grow into the martial artist she knew he wanted her to be. That SHE wanted to be... And she assumed her stance.

    _.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.-_.->

    Amaltheia frowned. "Nothing important" almost always meant "You already know" with him. Either that, or "Shut the fuck up, already". Given that he was challenging her to a spar, she assumed it was the former, as he never spoke with her, when the latter was true. She smiled and let the dummies fall to the floor, rubbing her oily arms before running towards the ring and leaping over the top rope, barely touching it for support. She always loved fighting Shotaro, It was exactly the type of heated adrenaline that she was so hooked on. Nobody else could really compare.

    She closed her eyes and muttered something fast and quiet in Greek before smacking her biceps, shouting out with pride the words that usually made students who knew of her very, very afraid. "Xekináme! Palévo me tin timí!" It roughly translated to "We begin! I fight with Honor!" To most students, it meant "Clear a space now, because this giant woman is about to throw somebody out of the ring, again..." With Shotaro, it wasn't so sure. She squared up and put up loose fists, grinning. "Let's make this one for the history books, no?"

  5. #15
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    THAT MORNING

    Aine rolled over in his bed groggily. He had gotten food poisoning the day before and had been home trying to ride out the sickening feeling in his stomach. It seemed that rest had worked as when he finally got his ass out of bed his stomach growled so loud he thought people all the way in Germany could hear it. "Ah, don't worry, we'll get you some fuel." Looking in the fridge he frowned at the selection he was given. Damn, gotta go out for a milk run today too. Oh well... Even though it wasn't as much as the young fighter was used to eating his plate was filled with three pancakes, five eggs, and a couple strips of bacon. "There we are, all better." He knew today was going to be a good day. He couldn't spar or train for an entire day and now he was feeling 100%.

    CURRENT TIME

    Classes were boring as always. Math, science, who really cared about all that stuff when it didn't apply to any of their careers? He got the concept of being a well-rounded individual but in his mind it's just taking up space in his head that could be used to remember more useful things. As he looked around he saw a few members of the various factions. It seemed the only one he really liked were the Janissaries and even then he wasn't too wild about them. They acted like White Knights over the entire school, which is more than he could say about Imperius Gloria who just gloated about their muscles all day every day.

    Feeling like he needed to get at least some practice in Aine walked over to the Rec Center. He was surprised at the number of students that were there and looked over at all the potential challengers. Finally his eyes fell upon someone that he thought would provide a good challenge.

    He walked over to one of the girls and smiled, excited to finally be able to spar after a full day. "Hey, Isabella, right? Don't think we've ever fought before. Care to help me dust off the cobwebs and spar?"
    Last edited by Bionicllama; 04-06-2016 at 10:26 PM.

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    Troy Duncan had a plan in mind. Not a great plan, mind you, but it was better than nothing. It had taken him the short few minutes between himself arriving and just about half of the rest of the school spontaneously appearing in the rec center to come up with it, and he was certain that it would probably not work. Worth a shot, at least. Unfortunately, step one was probably the hardest step, and that was the worst kind of plan. It was all too easy to just not go through with a plan like that -- and so, as was appropriate, Troy approached the first step with a somewhat begrudging 'let's just get this over with' attitude, getting up and heading across the rec center towards the well-known Junkiro with a wave and a half-smile.

    On the way there, he took note of everyone else starting in on fights. Vince had since arrived, and immediately got into the ring with that chick with the speaking problems whose name Troy had already forgotten. Tumor, or something? Pimple? Wart? Probably Wart. It was a good thing he could look up just about any student's name at will thanks to the challenge boards. If he ever had to approach her for anything, he would hate to do it without knowing her name, especially after having vaguely spoken at her occasionally during Easter dinner. Aside from that, there was some kid -- Mexican, maybe? -- hopping in with a very stereotypically American-looking guy, neither of whom Troy recognized. Hm. Better hurry this up a bit. Probably a good idea to watch Vince's fight after, if there's time. He picked up the pace once he was finished looking around and finally reached proper speaking distance of Junkiro, laying his footsteps down a little harder as he got close to emphasize his presence.

    "Hey, big shot. Everyone too intimidated to fight ya?" Troy didn't know much about the guy, but they'd spoken a couple of times in the past. A usual, generic, mostly-friendly personality was what he'd used before, and was in fact what he usually used, so for consistency's sake he went with that. "I dunno if you're too interested in fighting the little people. Nah, who am I kidding -- you probably get challenged by dudes like me all the time. If I'm too boring or easy for you, I understand. No problems here." He raised one hand slightly, palm out, in a sort of 'no worries' gesture. "But if not, mind hoppin' in the ring with me? It won't take long, believe me."

    Punctuating his statement with a chuckle, Troy folded his hands into his hoodie pocket and stood slightly lopsided. It was subtle, but he was trying to give the idea via body language that he was waiting for a quick response, and was ready to head elsewhere were he to receive a no. Sometimes giving people a now-or-never impression could make them hastily agree to something they wouldn't normally care for, which was exactly what he was going for here. Might have been too aggressive again. Troy wasn't too worried about it, though. It'd be different if they were complete strangers, but this way he came off as more sarcastic and joking than simply weird.
    Last edited by Standatrocity; 04-06-2016 at 04:41 AM.

  7. #17
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    When he saw Kyami enter, Junkiro immediately went over to the blond teenager, pulling him into a tight hug. "Missed you, you know." Junkiro had been worried about Kyami over the last few months; like his wardrobe, his mood considerably darkened over time, and Jun wasn't sure how to bring his boyfriend out of his funk. It worried Jun where Kyami might be headed if he couldn't find a way to cheer up. Why was he so unhappy? He wondered if it was his fault. If it was, Kyami wouldn't tell him. But he'd try his hardest to change the boy's mind. He was too sweet to just let go.

    Then he was approached by Troy. He hadn't had any direct conversations with the hoodie-wearing kid, but all of a sudden, he was being challenged out of the blue. Jun quirked an eyebrow in mild surprise; he had never seen him fight before, but knew that he was never one to fight that much...his personality attributed to that. But if he wanted to take on the freshman champion, more power to him! Junkiro nodded, a soft smile on his face. "I won't say no. I would like to see you in action, after all." Junkiro led Troy to the furthest unoccupied ring after giving Kyami a kiss, stripping out of his shirt and jeans down to his Speedo. "Whenever you're ready!"

    Troy chortled deliberately at the word "action", following the freshman champion to the arena of Jun's apparent choosing. "Action implies excitement. But I'll do my best to keep up a little. Wouldn't want to bore you." He went ahead and removed his hoodie for a bit less extra weight, leaving him in a noticeably stained white t-shirt. "Ready. Try not to kill me on accident, now." He tried not to look at Jun with too much obvious disgust. He'd known the guy was prone to speedo-based combat, but he'd yet to see it up close like this.

    Troy's stance was something you wouldn't expect to see in an arena, in the sense that he didn't have one. He seemed to not know too much about things like balance, center of gravity, etc., and instead walked semicasually towards Jun. His actual fighting was equally lackluster -- in the most half-assed and untrained manner possible, he raised a sloppily formed fist and shoved it in Jun's general direction. "Ha-ha! Take that! Clearly you see now how undefeatable I am!" Troy's voice oozed with humorous sarcasm. He was trying to display a callous attitude, as if he knew he would lose and was only killing some time.

    Junkiro dropped his stance almost immediately when he viewed the slapdash, halfassed motions of his sparring mate and looked at him quizzically, easily blocking the weakly thrown punch and sticking his hand to it to cease any incoming strikes. "Okay, hold up. Do you even want to have this fight?" Junkiro eyed Troy with suspicion. "Why are you at New Peaks if you intend to bring only half your ass to these battles?" He sighed and dropped his sticky ability, sighing. "Troy. Before we continue...tell me why you asked to fight me."

    Troy wiggled his hand a bit after finding it stuck to Jun's, pretending to act slightly surprised. "Right. Forgot you could do that." He stopped when Jun spoke, giving a half-grin the whole time, but letting it slowly fade to a neutral expression as the champion went on. "Huh? Yeah, I want to fight. It's just, you know, I'm not really gonna win, right? I'm just kind of curious how badly I'll get my ass kicked." He laughed lightly. "No, I'm not half-assing it. I'm just not great, that's all. You guys who placed high in the tournament are obviously all pretty good. I figure, you know, I may as well fight someone way out of my range on occasion. I could learn something." Troy was careful to maintain his friendly demeanor, even as he gave somewhat halfhearted excuses for his actions. "Am I too boring after all? My bad, dude."

    "Will you shut up for a second?" Junkiro had grown steadily more annoyed with Troy the longer he spoke. Was this really how he acted? "If you really want to learn, then actually give more of a shit than you're giving now, and actually try to give a fight!" Junkiro glared at Troy. "Back where I live, not giving your all is the same as being caught naked in public. It is shameful! If you want to learn, then come at me with all your power, and try to win! Otherwise you will learn nothing!" Junkiro pushed Troy away, frustrated with the kid's almost-smug attitude towards the fight. "Quit making wisecracks and actually fight me if you want to learn something!"

    Troy had to keep himself from visibly frowning. Crap. I misjudged him a little. He's one of those 110% guys, isn't he? He pretended to just barely catch himself after being shoved backwards, then looked up with a slightly more serious expression. Might not be able to get away with laziness, then. He wasn't that much a better fighter than he let on, but he was holding back. Troy wasn't really planning on letting anyone know anything about him if he could avoid it. Still. Guess I have to be more serious if I'm gonna get him to fight me. "Fine, fine. I'll put a little more effort in, if it makes you happy. I'm really not that great, though. I think you've forgotten how good you are compared to most of us." He raised his fists in a still sloppy, but more purposeful fashion. "Get ready, I'm comin' in hot!" God, that was lame. Why'd I say that?

    Lowering his head slightly -- mostly to hide his annoyed-at-himself expression -- Troy moved into range once more and threw a pair of not incredibly fast punches towards Jun's face. He would put more effort in, but he wasn't going to try to be clever about it. Generic, low-level fighting technique would have to suffice.

    Well, at least he was putting in a little effort. Junkiro stepped back, away from the punches. Something else was still bothering him. "Troy. Don't play yourself downward like that." He leaned against the ropes, confusion flitting across his face. "Listen to me. When I joined New Peaks, I was a D-rank. Do you know who my first fight was? It was Shotaro Yanmei." He let that sink in a moment before he continued. "I did not go in expecting to lose. I went in saying to myself I would give it my all and learn from my mistakes. And I did. Now shut up, quit beating yourself down, and prepare yourself." Junkiro calmly moved back within range of Troy, bowing slightly to his opponent. "Good luck."

    With one fluid motion, Junkiro reared back, aiming a high kick to Troy's face. A simple move. He wasn't going to go nuts if Troy wasn't going to take this completely seriously. This was really weighing down on what was his good mood at one point. Now he was just a bit annoyed.

    Troy registered the kick coming for him; 'registered' being the key word, as that was as far as he got. It sucks, but I'll just have to take it. In order to not come off as completely incompetent, he tried to move back a bit and made some motions as if he was attempting to place a block, but still took the hit to the end of his nose, making a pained noise and staggering away slightly. "Oof. N-nice one. God, I knew it'd hurt, but man--" He regained his composure quickly enough, trying not to stay off guard for too long. Troy was sort of banking on the hope that Jun was nice enough to not absolutely shred him at the first sign of weakness. "No, I'm alright. Bring it on." He tried to sound just a little bit pathetic with that one as he stepped back in and practically repeated the exact same move as before, with the lame punching, except this time aiming a little lower for Jun's torso area.

    Junkiro knew Troy wasn't all too experienced in the art of punching. His attack seemed fairly weak, so Jun puffed out his chest, tanking the punch with mild stinging the only real result. Troy would find himself unable to move his arm, as Jun had stuck his chest that way. He gripped the boy's arm, staring him in the eyes. "Is this you going all out? Is this all you have?" He sounded not angry, but disappointed. "Not to be rude, but I have fought D-ranks with more skill than this." He sighed, releasing his stick on Troy and kicking him away. "Listen. Do you want to get better, Troy?"

    Troy made a mildly frustrated noise as he found himself stuck once more, up until he was suddenly released and shoved backwards with a kick. Luckily, he'd been pulling away hard enough that the kick didn't have too much impact, as he fell backwards on his own the moment Jun let him go. "Urgh. These arena floors could stand to be softer, if you ask me." He picked himself up and brushed himself off as Jun spoke, then responded with a slightly annoyed tone. He was trying to sound just a little bit indignant. "Funny you should say that, actually. You know, it's real cool that you started as a D-rank and all, but I started as an E. And guess what? I'm still an E. A slightly better E, but an E nonetheless, right?" He chuckled, even though he hadn't said anything funny. "And yeah, of course I want to get better. Everyone does." As a matter of fact, I'm not actually too worried about it, but whatever he wants to hear. "But if you're trying to offer help, I don't want any. I'm doing just fine like this. ...Now, you wanna keep fighting or no? If you're bored, I can forfeit so it doesn't go on your record or whatever."

    Junkiro's eyes narrowed. There was something just a little bit...off, about the way he spoke. "You...don't want to get better, do you? At least...it's not why you're here." Junkiro walked back over to Troy, eyeing him with even more suspicion. "For someone who says they want to improve, you care FAR too little about this fight. If you REALLY cared, you'd go all out, have no nonsense, and be asking for advice fighting the freshman champion. What's REALLY going on here?" Junkiro was unsure if he was sympathetic, frustrated, or just annoyed with Troy. He just couldn't understand a mentality like that. How could anyone fight without the intent to improve?

    Troy let himself laugh out loud, just for a short while, at Jun's accusation. "Sorry, man, but that just sounds like projecting, to me. Of course you think that's how people looking to improve act, because that's how you do it. Not everyone's the same, you know. Besides, I didn't say I wouldn't take any advice." He shrugged exaggeratedly, for emphasis. "I'm just not looking for anything long-term, is all. This one fight's good enough for me." He stepped back deliberately, as if to keep a sort of invisible distance. Troy was hoping the metaphor stuck. "I'm fine with talking, but shouldn't we be doing some fighting, too? I think the people who stopped to watch are getting confused."

    Junkiro sighed. There would be no getting through to Troy. "Very well." Junkiro stepped forward, his stance intentional and stoic. "You want to fight the best, you get the best." Junkiro sighed, obviously in the zone now. "Now silence. Focus on the fight. No more words." Junkiro drew forward, judging Troy's reactions (and noting one of his simplest moves connected), then faked a right kick, instead immediately following up with a left kick aimed at the stomach. Another simple move, but with great fake out potential.

    Forget a fakeout; Troy didn't even move quickly enough to fully react to the false kick by the time the real one connected. He quickly adopted a pained expression, though it obviously helped that, as any normal person, he was in fact in quite a lot of pain. That's gonna be a day or two of stomach aches. Starting to question if this was worth it. Nevertheless, he was steadfastly determined to be as lame as he thought he could get away with, and dropped to one knee before making some attempt at a recovery, launching another somewhat slow fist in the general direction of Junkiro's chin as a sort of weird uppercut. He almost said something, but decided against it. Jun had requested no more words, and Troy wasn't about to risk annoying the guy more than he had to.

    Jun recognized an act when he saw one. He had fought E-ranks that would come at him more fiercely than Troy was. Even if it would hurt, it would not hurt THAT much. He'd still be able to fight fully, if in a bit of pain. Junkiro reacted to Troy's weird uppercut by taking one step back, then blatantly kicked Troy in the head, albeit lightly. "You're a terrible liar." He kicked Troy lightly in the head again. "WHY are you downplaying yourself? E-3s will put up a better fight than this. There was NO strength behind that punch at all. This is all an elaborate act. BUT FOR WHAT?!" Jun was absolutely livid. He had gone through all his speeches, and STILL the ingrate was holding back. WHY?!

    Ow. OW. Dick. 'least he's holding back on it. Troy took a couple of kicks, then did a clumsy roll backwards in an attempt to get out of headkicking range. It was reminiscent of a turtle falling over. Shit, anger? I went too far. Still, Troy could use that. There was a way to use everything if you were creative. "Alright, alright, fine. Let's say I really don't care that much like you seem to think." He clambered to his feet, a little off-balance, and held his left hand over the sore spot on his head. "First off, why're you so concerned about it? 's none of your business if I don't give it my all. I didn't ask for your criticism, big shot." He coughed a bit. He was kind of hoping he'd cough up a little blood for effect, but no dice.

    "And second, what's so bad about that? You know, sometimes you just have to be a little lazy. I could go all out, but then I might miss something important, and I'd still get my ass handed to me. Think about it." He was almost certain Jun wouldn't really think about it much, but that was the point. If Junkiro was already mad, there was barely any harm trying to egg him on at this point. He stepped back in once more, this time going for a kick instead of a punch. The kick barely made it up to shin height, but he still aimed it vaguely at Junkiro's legs. As always, he wasn't trying much with this one, though having his sense of balance throttled by head kicks wasn't helping him try to kick any harder.

    Junkiro countered Troy's kick with a kick of his own, his leg coming down on top of Troy's, slamming it into the mat. He was still pissed off by the terrible attitude of this guy. "You're a fool. If you do not go all out, you cannot apply what you learn. The mistakes you make going at 50% may not be made at full involvement. You fight differently when you are not trying." Junkiro groaned with frustration, rolling out of the ring. "I am done fighting you. I'm not fighting someone who refuses to try. Shotaro tried when he fought me, and I learned more because I did as well. If you ever want to actually give more than half an ass, talk to me. Otherwise, piss off." Junkiro sighed, putting his clothes back on. This was just asinine. Troy was an idiot. He moved back to Kyami, sighing as he gave his boyfriend a squeeze of his hand. "Can you make me feel better? That fight left me in a terrible mood..."

    Seeing Junkiro leaving, Troy hastily raised his right hand. "Not sure if it matters much, but I, Troy Duncan, hereby forfeit this fight." Wouldn't want any trouble over this. He listened to Jun's parting words, but did not reply, merely giving an unseen wave of farewell before leaving the ring himself, putting his hoodie back on. Well, that didn't go as planned. Still, I got what I needed. With a pained noise, he rubbed his stomach a bit and looked over in curiosity to see if Vince was still fighting the girl who didn't talk well. Probably not, though. All that talking made this take longer than it had to.
    Karma is the best.

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    Finally, classes for the day were over, Kacy thought to herself as she went out of History class. She maneuvered her way out of the crowd, and went back to her dorm to set her backpack down. She was free for the rest of the day, and contemplated on where she should go now. Then she had a sudden urge to yawn. Some of the classes were boring and made her want to fall asleep, but with scary teachers, she wouldn't be able to, not unless she wanted to get some kind of punishment. She wanted to go sleep, but at the same time, she didn't want to. She stretched a bit, hoping it would wake her up, even a little. It worked and she sighed. She needed that. Things were getting tense as the tournament is getting nearer. Then add that to exams, and things were even worse. Than made her wonder why did they even lined them up together?

    Standing up, she decided to go train for the tournament. One can never have too much practice. Besides, she already studied the whole day yesterday, and she badly needed a stress reliever. She wasn't sure if she wanted someone to spar with, but she'll decide when she got there. She changed her clothes into something more suitable for training. Once she arrived at the rec room, there were already many people there. But that wasn't surprising really. This was a fight school, after all. She scrunched her nose a bit at the smell of sweat, but she was already used to it. Her nose already adjusting to the sour odor, she decided practicing on one of the dummies.

    She did some simple kicks and punches, but as she got used to the exercise, she started to do techniques on the dummy. It wasn't long until she herself started getting sweaty. By the time, she had stopped, the dummy already had some rips here and there. She slightly panted and swung her arms to relax her muscles after using them continuously. She wiped the sweat off her eyebrows and took a break. She looked around the room and some of the sparring going on. There was one pair where one of them seemed like he was kind of goofing around with his opponent, even though he looked like he was getting his butt kicked. The only things she knew about him was that he was also a first year, just like her, and had a thing for dramatics. She recognized his opponent, Junkiro. Who wouldn't with the reputation he made for himself? He looked pretty irritated as he left the ring. Poor guy, she thought.

    No, she wasn't a creepy stalker who likes to stare at other people, but she had learned a lot from staring at other people's fights so don't blame her. She took her eyes off the lone boy on the ring, and watched other fights, taking note of some things she could use in battles.

  9. #19
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    Copost between "Dawscombine" and "Beta"

    "About time we got to fight." said Vincento, again failing to remember that Cyst wasn't very likely to understand him. Then again, the context and tone could account for a lot in regard to what a person said. Pacing back and forth in one corner of the ring, the Italian was clearly excited. His record had been spotty at best since the tournament, but it was hard not to be upbeat when surrounded by friends. Thought that would likely prove to be a BAD thing, as it went to his head a bit.

    Despite knowing Krav Maga was a very intense style and that it would be hard to make use of his special ability mid-combat, Vince played up like he was the cool guy and motioned for his opponent to make the first move.

    Cyst was almost the polar opposite. Cold, calculating, remaining absolutely still and in control while she watched him. Her mind had already started breaking him down, just as she expected he was doing, under that veil of jovial glee. She knew a few things that made her feel more confident. One, her foe was an analyst, like her. Two, she was most likely faster than him despite being physically weaker. Lastly, his leg had been injured. Her first move was clear to her, but she was already planning one step ahead of that.

    By the time he'd given her the first move, she was closing the space with her superior speed, aiming to drive the heel of her palm into his stomach. Not hard, but enough to wake him up, a little. Maybe make him a little sore, if it connected.

    By God, she was quick off the line. In seconds, Cyst was already pressing the attack with a swift strike to the midsection. Simple enough to avoid, of course. But the thought of how quick his for was stuck in Vincento's head. Swinging one hand down and out in a circular motion to deflect the blow and simultaneously open Cyst to a counterattack, Vincento stomped down on one foot and thrust his other hand forward in what some would call a Tai Chi strike. Granted, he'd just seen it in a video game and thought it looked effective... but some might erroneously attribute it to his skill at learning new moves.

    Much like Cyst's attack, it wasn't made to inflict severe damage so much as briefly stun or stagger the opponent. At this point, the two probably looked like they were just testing the waters, so to speak. But then what was the point of a spar if not to practice and improve while also learning the patterns and behaviors of your sparring partner?

    She knew her eyes weren't supernaturally enhanced in any way, but she had pretty good hearing. Once she heard the stomp, she knew the deflection wasn't just to spare himself from harm. Her slim body ducked to the side, leaning back as the close-proximity strike very nearly grazed her chest. If she had been even an inch closer, he would have gotten her... It was thrilling. Oh, her adrenaline was pumping now. Her cold, expressionless face watched his every move as best it could. Normally she would be smiling and laughing. Psychological warfare, like she learned from Viktor. However, she wanted this to be an honest fight. Clean. Pure. No tricks of the mind or anything anyone could call underhanded.

    Except for, of course, underhanded strikes. From her position there were two options. Give up the balance and go for a head kick, which would almost certainly put her on her ass and him in the most advantagious position you could put a Krav Maga fighter, or she could drive her palm into his chin. She attempted to go for the latter, bringing one foot back to stabalize her while she did so.

    That went about as well as expected. A quick exchange with no damage done to either fighter was about as bog-standard as it got in regard to the start of a match. Then Vincento's opponent did something a bit unorthodox. As she backpedaled and regained her balance, she sent another palm screaming through the air... this time almost like an uppercut. It worked, to a degree. Vince swung his head backward, but a split second too late. Cyst's hand hit its mark on the underside of his nose. Certainly not a BAD injury, but an annoyingly painful place to be hit, for sure.

    Stumbling back a couple steps, Vincento clutched his nose and shook his head. It was bleeding a bit, but thankfully the cartilage was not broken. He made an amusing face that meant only one thing... the sting in his nose caused him to sneeze quite forcefully, covering his hand in mucus and blood. "Per Dio, Cyst. Really?" said the Italian as he wiped his hand on his shorts. He wasn't mad, just annoyed that he was the first one to take a shot in this spar. It seemed like the loss in the tournament had really done a number on his confidence.

    Switching gears, Vincento launched into a series of quick but fairly straightforward kicks. If he couldn't immediately get his for to mess up, then he would try to tire them out by pressing the attack.

    Cyst had just spent the last half hour practicing her footwork, and she had been spending time and time again on her weaving. She did just that, taking a step back to shift her body around the kicks, getting a feel for the rhythm. He was quick. With her weak stamina, he was tiring her out rather effectively, but she had something else up her sleeve. However, as she went to catch the leg, he pulled back for another kick, nailing her right in the side of the head. Thank god they were weak kicks, or she wouldn't be standing.

    She backed up, shaking her head once, twice, three times before she could see straight, again. He had one hell of a side kick. Was he wearing boots? Whatever. She took a deep breath and grunted out a quick "Even..." in her rough, damaged, accent heavy voice. It was a work in progress, especially in a fight. That wasn't the main concern, right now. She had to do something about those kicks...

    She started to edge her way forward. Her stance had changed, a little. Palms more open, eyes more focused. She was looking for something... what, there was no idea to be had. Her hands were off-center, but close. What could she be after...

    Even? Had she LET him kick her? This wasn't looking good... was he really THAT off his game? Vincento's eyes went wide as he considered the implications of that single word. Though he was unaware of it, his stance became shaky and he was off-center just a bit. This small but blatant error left a huge hole in his defenses. Even so, he couldn't just stop after one hit. Hopping back and forth a couple times to shake off his nerves, Vince then rushed in one more time. Leaping into the air and torquing his body violently, the young man spun like a top.

    Most would think the next move to be a powerful kick, as many martial arts incorporated a spinning kick or two. However, Vince would strike with a spinning elbow brought down from above rather than a spin-kick from the side. Adding that turning motion to the falling albow attack would increase its power AND its speed, and hopefully make it more unexpected and difficult to evade.

    She hadn't let him hit her. Far from it. She had intended to get through this match without any injury at all, but he was bleeding and she was getting really dizzy... She had one chance to end this right here, before she passed out. She just hoped that this plan didn't do too much... Because he's in the air now, and she can see an opening so exposed, she's not even considering an alternative...

    As he falls towards her, an elbow coming to strike her, she places her hands on his back and attempts to drive her knee into his stomach. Then... she's in pain. Nothing but pain. She slowly turns to her side to see Vince's elbow driven into her chest, just above her breast. Hard. Well beyond what bones would normally allow. As she pulls away, it's clear why. She coughs hard, blood spattering out onto the mat as she dropped. First to her knees, then collapsed altogether. Once again, a fight ends in her unconscious on the floor... Predictable.

    Mid-rotation, Vincento felt pain. Searing pain, to be precise. Maybe a spinning elbow wasn't the smartest idea. Especially against a Krav Maga combatant who was likely used to crazy shit like that. Still, he powered through the pain and delivered the elbow... right onto Cyst's collarbone. He felt it buckle and bend, then break. Almost immediately, the girl collapsed in pain and coughed up some blood onto the mat. ... had the fracture somehow punctured a lung? No... that couldn't be. But then, there was no way was she THAT sickly and still able to fight, so that HAD to be what happened.

    The attendant in the Rec Center rushed over immediately and dialed the hospital on their phone as they took Cyst's vitals. Vincento on the other hand was having a crisis of faith. Was he so out of control of his techniques? Was he that much of an amateur? First he lost the tournament on a botched kick, now he might have critically injured a classmate with what should have been a fairly simple to evade attack. That, combined with his mounting self-doubt was enough to drive him over the edge, so to speak.

    "I think... I think I need to go." said the young man in a panicked tone of voice as he stumbled out of the ring and backed out toward the exit. Once outside, he'd run around to the back of Male Dormitory #1 and dry heave several times. He was completely freaking out. He was once on top of the world at New Peaks... and now he felt like he was nothing but an unskilled poser. First hurting himself, then a classmate. Over and over, he punched the stone wall of the dorm. Knuckles scraped the stone, then bled from the repeated blows. Once he could no longer throw another punch, he stormed inside the building and shut himself away in his room.

    He didn't deserve to be here.

    --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    Meanwhile, at Imperius Hall...

    Shotaro had climbed into the ring with Amaltheia. A heavy strinker versus a grappler, this was sure to be an interesting match despite the clear difference in skill between them. "You ready for this?" asked Shotaro before quickly closing the gap and sending a kick directly toward Amaltheia's left thigh. Take out a grappler's legs, and you took out a big part of their arsenal. At least that was what Shotaro rationalized. Really, it was true of ANY fighter, not just grapplers.

    Man, he was quick... Almost annoyingly so. He didn't even give her a chance to respond before he was tossing kicks at her, aiming for her legs. Smart, but she expected no less from him. She went in low, dashing to close the distance even further and pull his remaining led out from under him. She would take that kick to the shoulder instead of to the leg, but that was one of the touchest parts of her body. It would hurt, but it was worth it to get him down.

    Well, Amaltheia had ducked the kick, but took it in the shoulder. Always a plus... but then she grabbed for Shotaro's leg. Well that wouldn't do. As soon as she grabbed for it, a series of rapid punches would rain down on her shoulders and head. Shotaro did NOT want to be taken to ground. COULD he fight there? Sure. But he was far from a masterful combatant from his back. Hopefully she'd back off, but in the back of mind Shotaro couldn't help but doubt it.

    Even his punches hurt like a bitch.... she was thinking back to the first time she felt one of his kicks full on. She didn't want that again. She hooked her arm around his leg and tried to toss him backwards in a very, very sloppy suplex. She would have done better, but she knew he would take advantage, if she let go of his leg. It was neat enough to be safe, though, so he wouldn't be in danger of any serious injury. He might be sore in the morning, though... Granted it worked at all, that is.

    Several more punches struck, but that didn't stop Shotaro's foe from hefting him into the air and slamming him backward onto the mat. Shotaro landed a bit awkwardly, putting a great amount of the impact on his elbow. Pain shot through the arm, but he didn't think it was quite broken. Thankfully, his opponent was off-balance from the maneuver as well. Putting almost his full weight on the sore arm, Shotaro pivoted and swung one foot downward to hopefully drive Amaltheia out of grappling range. Well, either that or to hit her with said kick. Either one worked for Shotaro.

    She was in a bad position, and he knew it. Just as she was getting herself off the mat, he was trying to drive his heel into her. She backed off, only realizing afterwards that that was exactly what he wanted. He couldn't possibly have produced the power to to any real damage from that position. She could have caught the kick and put him into a submission hold like that, but no. She had to back up like a fool. Well, no matter. She closed the distance yet again and tried to stomp on his chest, if he was still on the ground. If not, the chest kick would come in the form of Pankraton's signature step kick. Proven to be able to break ribs, though this one was toned down. This was just a spar, after all.

    Not dumb enough to remain on the ground, Shotaro was actually forced on the defensive by the aggressive attacks of the school's biggest Pankraton enthusiast almost the instant he got to his feet. A stepping kick was her next move, but kicks were where Shotaro excelled. Snapping his own kick into the air, Shotaro chose to target the very leg she was sending his way. Kicking a kick? Not really a traditional way to do things, but still an effective one. Even should her attack strike true, the force would be reduced and pain would be rocketing up the limb from Shotaro's counterattack.

    She tried not to grit her teeth as he kicked her. Right in the leg, and right in the leg she was kicking him with, no less! Didn't he respect priority? Oh, well. She had already gotten another opprotunity. The kicking leg came down between Shotaro's, and she was going low again. This time, instead of getting into a shitty suplex, she went for a simple hip toss. One that would leave her standing, this time, should it hit. She hooked her arm around the inside of his leg and pulled out, attempting to pin the kicking leg between her chest and his. If all went well, she would lift him up and toss him back first onto the ground. Hopefully he didn't hit her head, but she had learned her lesson about holding back...

    Well, Shotaro's 'kick the kick' plan worked, but it once again left an opening for his opponent to exploit. Granted, he was half-assed leaving openings on purpose. It was a spar, after all. Just beating the hell out of each other does nothing. Still, it wasn't very amusing to be grappled and tossed like a toy. Grabbing hold of Amaltheia's arm and swinging his feet down and backwards with the rotation as he was thrown, Shotaro actually bridged the landing and avoided being slammed on his back. "You wanna call it here? I've had my fun and don't think we need to bust each other up. Not with the tournament coming up and all that shit."

    Granted, it must have been quite amusing to see the school's top fighter in such an unusual position... but he wasn't being unreasonable. The FUNNIEST part, though... was that depending on how Amaltheia ended the spar, Shotaro would either be helped back to a standing position or dropped on his back. Either option had pros and cons, least of which being a laugh at his expense.

    The transition from a perfect front drop to being offered to end the spar was quick, surprising, and a little unnerving. If this had been a real fight, she wasn't happy knowing he could nullify her strongest techniques with no issue. She had almost contemplated using the Shield of Aigis, but he knew about that trick already. Only newcomers got fooled, and they didn't get fooled for long. She smiled and pulled him back up, taking a moment to shout, "Theoí, afierónoume aftó ton agóna sas!", which translated to "We dedicate this fight to the gods". A traditional ending to a great bout. She looked to Shotaro with a smile before hopping out of the ring and grabbing one of her dummies, hefting it over her shoulder.

    "I'm gonna go to that sicilian place. The one run by the kickboxer. You wanna come?" It was an offer she had made before, but not to him. Generaly to people she beat. Help point out their flaws and failings over a plate of pasta. This time, she just wanted the food. Perhaps it would help if she put on more clothes than nearly none, first...

    "I STILL don't know what the hell you're saying half the time. It's all Greek to me." Oh, such a bad pun... using a figure of speech like that when the person is LITERALLY speaking Greek. In any case, Shotaro hopped over the ropes and out of the ring before responding to Amaltheia's invitation. "Nah, I'll pass. I got some shit to do here before I take any time for myself." What that WAS, he wouldn't say. But the fact he was passing up a meal meant it was probably important.

    Oh, well. Not like she could make him come with. She hoisted up the other dummy and nodded to Shotaro. "So be it. At least you'll know where to find me, if you need me." She turned and headed out the door, first heading towards her dorms. This was a fancy resteraunt, so she wanted fancy clothing. She disappeared into her room, setting the dummies down and getting dressed, ready to head out to her fancy dinner. Alone.
    Last edited by Dawscombine; 04-10-2016 at 10:55 PM.

  10. #20
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    A polite giggle passed Ayame's lips, her nail-painted fingers rising to cover her mouth at Boris's comment. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir, and you are?" Her smile implied that she was playing along with Boris's jest as she turned her attention back to Sasha. "Nah, I just got out of her class. She really is something, though." She sighed and shifted her weight on her feet. "I might ask if she'll teach me what she knows about fighting, with her whole Baji Quan deal."

    "Oh?" Sasha leaned back on her arms, her eyebrow rising in curiosity. "She's certainly a brunt fighter. You really think it would help you to learn a whole new art on top of your...uh..." She bit her lip and glanced away, unsure of Ayame's style. "...Tae Bo?"

    Ayame had to repress an earnest laugh. Tae Bo? That joke of a martial art? Really, could it even be called a martial art? Instead, she pushed it down to a short chuckle and shook her head. "You mean Muay Thai. They're very different."

    "Yeah, Sasha, even I know that." Boris gestured, one arm leaning on the arm of his wheelchair. "One of them is a full-body fitness program from the 90s." He shrugged, his shoulders rising and falling as a calm grin danced over his lips. "The other, of course, is Tae Bo."

    Sasha smacked his shoulder again, and he laughed it off. "Hush, you, the ladies are talking." Her attention returned to Ayame. "Still, do you really want to learn it so close to the tournament?"

    "Figured I would wait until next semester." Ayame reached back for the phone in her knapsack again. "I don't wanna get all confused between basic stances and..." She trailed off as her eyes looked at the empty phone screen, and she feigned distraction from a nonexistent text message. "Ah, man, I'm gonna be late. Was supposed to meet up with someone at the beach!"

    "Ooh, looks like I'm not the only one tapering." Sasha reclined from her arms to her elbows, then to the ground. "Is it that guy Erik? He's certainly got the eye for you."

    "Ugh, don't even get me started. And no, it's not him." She put the phone back into its pocket and reshouldered the knapsack. "I'll see you around, guys. Good luck in the tournament, Sasha!"

    "You too, Ayame."

    As the kimono-clad girl strutted away with another dainty wave, her friendly smile fell to a frown. Currying her favor can be so exhausting at times. It was hardly her intention to go to the beach, where Erik and many others would certainly refuse to leave her alone.

    A hot bath would be nice.



    "Hm?"

    Isabella halted her drills on the wooden dummy, her knees straightening from her horse stance. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths as a drop of sweat traced to the damp white hairs along the side of her face. Yet her eyes were unchanged by the effects of exhaustion, remaining pointed and focused.

    The dark-haired newcomer was unfamiliar to her, but that was no fault of his own. Isabella was not the most social of butterflies, and her few close friends were not as heavily into fighting as she was. Plus, she was absolutely horrendous with names, for as soon as one was announced to her it was promptly disregarded. Fortunately for her, a name was hardly required to respond to his inquiry.

    Dust off the cobwebs?

    "Ah...a spar?" Isabella's heavy German accent cut through her proficient English as she eyed the others that had inhabited the gym--apparently during her drills. Several other spars were already starting, some of them transcending the title of "spar" and ascending directly to "fight." Were they even holding anything back?

    "That's...probably not a good idea." Wing Chun rarely included sparring, let alone fights, for the moves were meant to finish battles as quickly and efficiently as possible. "I don't want to hurt you before the tournament. Perhaps...another time?" She tilted her head slightly, her lips spreading in a small, kind smile.

    Thanks to Karma for the dandiest set
    Spoiler: RPs I'm in 

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