Description: T. Hawk tracks down a shady Shadoloo deal going on at the US-Mexico border. He attempts to bust it up and find answers, but unfortunately, M. Bison isn't about to roll over for him.
"Hey! I said HEY! YOU! GET THOSE @)(#@#(@N' GUNS ON THE MOTHER @(*#@(#@N' TRUCK! NOW!"
The Shadaloo Boss that has come to be known as M. Bison (not that he wasn't already known as that but whatever, just go with it) is standing on the back of an uncovered jeep right now. He's decked out in what looks to be an overpriced fur coat of the fox flavor. Underneath that, he's wearing a simple boxing outfit made up of shorts and a ripped sleeveless t-shirt. Blue. His hands are warm because of the huge pair of boxing gloves that he's wearing.
"HURRY UP! THIS IS A COVERT OBSERVATION! IF THE COPS SHOW UP, I'M KICKIN' THEY ASS AND THEN I'M KICKIN' YO' ASS!!" M. Bison's shouting carries over the cold area that is filled to the brim with Shadaloo transports. There are also a few other vehicles from which crates of weapons are being taken out of and stacked into the Shadaloo transports. M. Bison doesn't even notice the bullhorn sitting next to him. He's far more interested in dunking an Oreo in the huge glass of milk he's got sitting nearer to him. As he munches on that cookie, he continues to oversee his latest operation.
Sidebar: It's snowing. Lightly.
T. Hawk has been tracking members of this 'Shadoloo' organization by whatever means necessary: local fighting circuits, the criminal underground of Mexico, the internet, you name it. It is the one thing that has been fixated on his mind ever since the battle to reclaim the Thunderfoot's land in Sonora and the subsequent kidnappings of tribe members and friends. At last, payoff: he's gotten wind of something about to go down at the US border near Texas. He took his truck and drove all the way to a little border town near where his source said it would happen.
The overnight hotel was just run-down enough to not need mention. He took off the next morning despite the snow. He was off-road know. The giant native's heart was pumping, adrenaline melded into a singular focus to his goal. He opens the glove box, checking the massive revolver he keeps there. Just in case. He pauses at a ridge and saw the transports below, counting the men there and the goods they were transporting. The one in the jeep must be the leader. He distantly recalls the face but can't place the name.
It was go time. He shifts into gear and starts driving. He will continue to do so even as he gets within sight of Shadoloo. His speed increases until he's hitting about 90.
It isn't Bison that realizes that something is amiss. Nope. He's too busy dunking cookies and chowing down on the delicious milk-enhanced flavor of them. He's barely paying attention to the weapons that are being moved from one working vehicle to the other. Really, he should've just taken the vehicles they were already in. But that would've been too much like right and so M. Bison has decided to make them all sitting ducks by doing it this way.
Noticing the incoming vehicle of justice, Shadaloo members start to scatter and get out of the way. These foot soldiers are nothing to write home about and it is all happening too fast for them to actually react in a proper way of using the weapons they are transporting to shoot at the vehicle. Nope. There's only time to dive out of the way in dramatic fashion and initiate a cinematic slow motion sequence about what is going on.
M. Bison, still oblivious, is focused on making sure that he brings his latest milk-dripping cookie conquest up to his wide open mouth. He drops the cookie in and is crunching and slurping away at it, the moment that a certain vehicle smashes into his. The resulting smash is enough to send him bouncing around the back of that jeep. He even dents the vehicle itself when his head smashes into a part of it. "What the hell?!" Bison looks around and spots his glass of milk. On the floor. Spilled.
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
T. Hawk uses the element of surprise by heading straight for the Shadoloo transports. His revolver tucked away, he opens the door just as he hits max speed. He has to time this just right. As the Shadoloo operatives dive for cover, he leaps out of the truck and seems to fly into the air. The truck is left to careen for either one of the transports or the pile of weapons left out; whichever is first, things are going to get broke.
He comes down like a giant bird of prey on the first Shadoloo man he sees. He floors the unfortunate guy with a hard stomp, picks him up, and hurls him like a baseball to another. He follows this with a forward thrusting leap that sends him chest-first into another guy. This will go on as the Mexican sees his targets. When they finally remember they have guns, he'll just shoot back. He's spent plenty of time at the range.
He is unaware of the spilled milk sin he has committed.
The jeep is practically thrown. Not at anyone in particular but off to the side. And standing there, chest heaving like a madman, is none other than the maestro of violence himself: M. BISON. He's kicking up enough steam from the anger in his body to make it look as though he's sweating, even while there's just a little bit of snow to go with the frosty weather. It's not -that- frosty, considering the location. But still, things happen like this.
"HEY! SITTING BULLSHIT!"
One boxing glove is thrust in the direction of T. Hawk as Bison has actually managed to put a couple of things together. Since T. Hawk is the only new face here (and he's kind of whooping the hell out of the Shadaloo soldiers), the spilling of the milk has to be his fault. "You spilt my milk, sucka!" Bison throws his fur off as he takes some predatory steps in T. Hawk's direction. With each step he pounds those gloves together at the knuckles in preparation of getting ready to whoop some ass.
"Now I gotta' kill yo' ass!"
COMBATSYS: M. Bison has started a fight here.
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M. Bison 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: T. Hawk has joined the fight here.
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T. Hawk 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 M. Bison
T. Hawk stands in full view of Bison now, holding a limp Shadoloo trooper by the collar in one meaty hand. He wears a heavy knitted poncho for the weather rather than his usual bare-chested self. He tosses the Shadoloo man away as he stares the boxer down, a deep frown on his hard, hawk-like features. "You must be the 'brains' of this," he says, ignoring the threat. You can practically hear the quotation marks when he says brains. He rolls his neck.
"Now I'm going to spill your blood, Shadoloo pig." With that retort he takes off in a run for Bison, though he's slow. He leaps, aiming a drop-kick to the boxer's chest once he gets close.
COMBATSYS: M. Bison blocks T. Hawk's Medium Kick.
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T. Hawk 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 M. Bison
Bison feels as though he's something akin to the Terminator right now. He doesn't seem to waver in the face of adversity in the shape of T. Hawk. No, instead, he just continues to stalk towards him, unaware that this guy is a fighter of some reliable caliber. In fact, he almost doesn't get his hands up in time to protect himself from the sudden arrival of T. Hawk's feet. They come at his chest and Bison covers up just in time to take brunt of that dropkick to the arms.
"Shut up, sucka!" The Not-So-Witty Banter is released as Bison brings his arms back into an offensive position. He takes a step and dips to the right, putting a little more power behind this swing than he normally would, hooking that right arm around to see if he can't catch T. Hawk with a sudden sucker punch to the side of his head!
COMBATSYS: T. Hawk blocks M. Bison's Hook Punch.
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T. Hawk 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 M. Bison
Hawk lifts his arm and blocks the hook punch just in time, but man does it hurt. Shock runs up his arm, his muscles shaking to keep Balrog's fist from driving his tricep into his jaw. He shoves the fist away, arm red from the point of impact. It would soon bruise. He just grunts. Now he remembered: this guy was a former contender in the States. Something about killing his opponent in the ring. Well, great. Just what Hawk needed.
He controls his breathing, then aims to grab for Balrog. If successful, he'll leap slightly into the air and actually windmill the boxer around with just on arm, before slamming him into the ground as hard as he can. "OWA!" he cries.
COMBATSYS: M. Bison interrupts Mexican Throw from T. Hawk with Dash Low Straight.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
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T. Hawk 1/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0 M. Bison
M. Bison is barely registering the fact that T. Hawk has blocked his fist. He's more apt to just continue punching until the person on the other side of his fists has been completely wrecked. Which is what he's trying to do right this moment. He's already moving backwards a couple of steps after that block, in preparation of coming at T. Hawk with another one of his powerful punches.
Luckily, Bison finds himself stepping out and away from a grab attempt. This causes his eyes to light up with an angry fire and he rushes the justice filled interloper with a sudden blur of speed, crouching low and jabbing with a powerful left arm to crumple his enemy's leg!
"Bison Don't Play Dat!"
CRACK!
That's the sound Bison's jab makes when it meets T. Hawk's leg. Pain explodes through his body as he falls clutching the wounded leg in agony. Not broken, but it was damn close. T. Hawk yells, then grits his teeth to bite back the pain. He re-focuses and, despite everything, still rises to his feet. He'll be limping for a while though. If he gets out of this. "I wanna know one thing," he says in a low voice. "Why is Shadoloo kidnapping people?"
He leaps and tries to grab Bison again, this time lifting him up and choking him for a few seconds. "TELL ME!" He yells, heedless of the fact a person being choked can't really talk all that well. He'll then toss Bison into one of the transports. Shit, this guy hit like a truck. He could probably kill a real Bison like that.
COMBATSYS: M. Bison fails to interrupt Neck Hanging Tree from T. Hawk with Turn Punch.
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T. Hawk 1/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0 M. Bison
There's time for a little shuffle feet dancing from the boxer as he pops back up to a full stance. He bobs and weaves, shadowboxing for a second in victory, as he pretty much figures he's ruined this fool's leg and therefore there's no reason that he should even still be talking. Why does he hear his voice then? "Fool, you ain't dead yet?!"
Bison's eyes narrow as he listens to T. Hawk's words. "What?! I don't even know what a Showerloo is!" It's funny because as he turns his body around, the Shadaloo tattoo on his shoulder because hugely visible. He immediately turns his body back with a high velocity, aiming a strong jab in T. Hawk's direction but--
"URK!"
T. Hawk's hand has him up and into the air, choking and shaking him like there's no tomorrow. Next thing he knows, his body is sent sailing towards one of those random transports, crushing and denting the vehicle to all hell, before his body falls out and hits the ground. "Grrrrrrrrr." This growling only causes Bison to punch the ground and hop back to his feet. Anger. Rising.
Hawk, spiritually attuned as he is, takes a moment to refocus his energy and dilute the pain still in his leg. He does this while limping towards Bison, staring him down and still frowning. He saw that tat, he knows what it means. He's seen it many times in pictures over the internet. Long hours spent researching, knowing something funny was up. "Bullshit," he spits. "You know."
His arm moves quickly, raising up and then coming down in a hard chop to the boxer's left shoulder.
COMBATSYS: M. Bison blocks T. Hawk's Strong Punch.
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T. Hawk 1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 M. Bison
Bison is getting ticked off. And when he gets ticked off he starts to get riled up. And when he gets riled up, he's ready to pound his opponents into some former form of themselves. Like mincemeat. When T. Hawk's chop comes at him, Bison ducks behind his arms and moves right towards it, letting that hand collide with his muscles. He winces lightly at the impact and then he's backing off.
"Look here, Chief Runyamouth! I don't know nothin' 'bout no people gettin' kidnapped!" Bison starts pounding those fists of his together again. Bouncing on his heels and getting a little bit of momentum going beneath him. "I missed the last six board meetings!"
COMBATSYS: M. Bison gathers his will.
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T. Hawk 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 M. Bison
Hawk thinks he believes this guy. He didn't seem smart enough to be a good liar. A winter breeze blows through and ruffles his poncho. He closes and opens his fingers as Bison takes a breather. "Alright. Then I guess after I beat you up, you can be a message to your bosses," he says with finality.
He leaps, spreading his arms out and back like they were wings as the wind seems to carry his big body forward the entire distance between himself and Bison. "CONDOR SPIRE!" he yells, attempting to bodily ram right into Bison and close the distance for his next move.
COMBATSYS: M. Bison blocks T. Hawk's Condor Spire.
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T. Hawk 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 M. Bison
Bison is playing a defensive game right now. Looks like he's an ex-champion boxer for a reason. He's taking the hits on his arms to make sure that he maybe tires out this fool that has decided he wants to have a funeral out here in the middle of nowhere. Because that's where he's gonna' leave this dude. Right here. On the ground. Bleeding to death.
Bison blocks the sudden chest bump of T. Hawk, tanking the pain like a champ and he wastes not even a moment before he rushes in at T. Hawk, hoping to catch him off-guard from his attack, and he goes to down with a series of quick jabs and hooks to see if he can't stumble in the bronx this fool.
"It's Condor/man/ dummy! Get ya' movies right!"
COMBATSYS: T. Hawk interrupts Rapid Combo from M. Bison with Canyon Splitter EX.
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T. Hawk 0/-------/----===|=======\==-----\1 M. Bison
Hawk is ready for this. He takes some of the blows to his chest and arms, not letting any blows to his head connect. That's fine. But before Bison can really lay into him, he rapidly chops at the boxer's head and shoulders with his right arm, striking like an axe chopping wood. Then, he follows that up by leaping with his knee extended, rapidly kneeing the boxer in the gut as they both sail high into the air. At the apex of the jump, the native american lands back in the snow with his arms out, making sure to land on his good leg.
To be honest, M. Bison doesn't even know what hit him. One moment he was about to knock this sucka out and the next moment, he's sprawled out on the ground on his ass and feeling pain course through his head. He grunts away at the pain that's pouring through his body and slams those gloved fists into the ground once again.
"Stop hittin' me, fool! The hell is wrong with you?!"
Bison hops back to his feet and pounds those gloves together. "You gon' die today!" And in the next moment, there's a sudden rushing of wind as M. Bison slides across the ground in T. Hawk's general direction. Shadow Bisons follow as he swings punch after punch after punch in T. Hawk's direction. Each one of these elongated swings of huge fist seems to be carrying more power and anger behind it as he's clearly trying to knock T. Hawk into the middle of his next fight. The punches keep coming for a total of five. That's a good round number to knock somebody the F out!
COMBATSYS: T. Hawk endures M. Bison's Crazy Buffalo but gets knocked away!
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T. Hawk 1/----===/=======|-------\-------\0 M. Bison
Now this dumb lummox has shadow clones? Hawk can't believe it. He has no choice, now - Bison is coming in too fast. He clenches his fists and...TAKES IT. Blow by blow, Bison's fists slam into his huge body like cannonballs. He takes a swing to the gut, the chest, twice in the face, and his other leg. Each hit makes a low booming sound as if trees were being felled. He slides further back in the snow, but he does not fall over. He REFUSES to fall over. When the sick barrage is over, he stands there, blood dripping from his mouth and his breathing heavy and ragged. He turns to spit a wad of bloody phlegm onto the white ground.
"You hit like a baby," he retorts flatly. Then he grabs Bison and jumps, performing another of his typhoon maneuevers by windmilling his arms and slamming Bison to the ground. But if successful Bison will bounce, causing T. Hawk to grab him AGAIN and jump higher this time, spinning him all the while. "DOUBLE TYPHOON!" he yells, and comes down back to Earth to slam Bison into the jeep.
COMBATSYS: M. Bison auto-guards T. Hawk's Double Typhoon.
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T. Hawk 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 M. Bison
"What?!"
The look on Bison's face is one of anger. He can't believe that this Tonto fool done stood there and took his punches with ease. He's actually pissed off that this dude didn't get his head knocked clean off his body. The snarling and the growling that comes from Bison makes him sound like his namesake. He actually looks like he's about to turn into a violent animal. He's about as smart as one, anyway.
When T. Hawk mounts an offense, Bison immediately covers up. His body leans backwards and his gloved fists go out in front to make sure that Hawk's grab attempt hits nothing but gloves. He watches Hawk's movements and just puts a little push behind his sliding movement towards Hawk, that rushing wind carrying his dashing body towards his mighty foe. Bison raises one of those powerful fists up to try and catch T. Hawk before he even knows what's going on with one of those terrifying uppercuts!
COMBATSYS: M. Bison dazes T. Hawk with Dash Upper!
- Power hit! -
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T. Hawk 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 M. Bison
Hawk sees what's coming and tries to respond in kind, switching up his stance so he absorbs most of the force in non-vital areas. But Bison is too fast, and blows past his defenses easily. The uppercut slams into his jaw and sends the big man flying up into the air, but not the way he wants. He comes crashing back down with a cracked jaw, stars shooting through his vision.
Slowly he rises, now seeing double Bisons. He's swaying, as if drugged, holding his head with one hand. No, not this way! With a mighty war cry, he lunges at Bison again, fury in his eyes as he attempts to make one last grab, another wind-mill leap into the air and smash. He seems to really want to bust up Bison's jeep, as that's precisely what he aims at again.
COMBATSYS: T. Hawk can no longer fight.
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M. Bison 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: M. Bison blocks T. Hawk's Mexican Typhoon.
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M. Bison 0/-------/----===|
M. Bison can sense that T. Hawk is getting angry. Thus the leaning back and extension of his gloves once again. This should be enough to keep himself from being grabbed, as he throws a couple backpedals into that to make sure that he's not about to get thrown around like some rag doll.
The moment that he notices that he's probably got an opening to bounce, he turns and starts booking it for his jeep. "Ahahahahahahahaha! Asta La Pasta, Sucka!" And he leaps into the back of it, slamming his hand on the hood to get the driver inside to start with the escape.
The surviving Shadaloo soldiers do the same! It's time to bounce!
COMBATSYS: M. Bison has ended the fight here.
T. Hawk, exerting the last of his strength, falls face-first in the snow, the poncho billowing in the wind as Shadoloo make their escape. It will be some time before he regains consciousness. Not to mention the prospect of getting that damn truck fixed.
Log created on 16:29:59 02/16/2015 by T. Hawk, and last modified on 21:10:19 02/16/2015.