Description: Bluegrass, Chicken, and Wrestling, Nashville has it all. And taking back at the right in the heart of the Brute Force Wrestling Arena. While people line up their food, it sounds like that wrestling is being treated as a sport as the USA Sport Team is looking to recruit one of the most famous luchas in the world. Jaguar King has come out to face against the number one fighter in all of football, Brian Battler, in a recruitment push for the USA Sports Team. The lowbrow fights against the jaguars brow as the ex-NFL linebacker comes over to TOUCH DOWN right on Jaguar King. Right? It would be a shame if some jerk would crash this fight...
BRUTE FORCE WRESTLING ARENA!!! Brutal! Forceful! Wrestleful? Arena... ful?!
This isn't working.
Do you know what is working? The promise of high-profile violence that is to be a launching point for even greater heights, because by god, someone's not gonna get snapped in half in half. In the King of Fighters, you don't get sent plummeting forty feet up onto an announcer's table. No, no. There is a more succinct way to describe the greater magnitude.
You get brutalized.
Throwing around the words 'upcoming King of Fighters' at least seven times in the pitch is what got the BFW brass to go for it, and so, an exhibition has been arranged for the sake of...
Brian Battler and the USA Sports Team?!
The ex-pro football linebacker heads down the entrance aisle with a convincingly confident stride with his two best buddies flanking him on either side to some trumpet fanfare that transitions to some riffs on a guitar.
"HAILING FROM BRADY, TEXAS... WEIGHING IN AT THREE-HUNDRED AND THIRTY-FIVE POUNDS, STANDING A TOWERING SEVEN-FOOT-TWO, WE GIVE YOU... BRIIIIIAAAAN BATTLEEEEEEERRRRRRR!"
Brian has his game face on. Black streaks of paint under the eyes, his least-filthiest jersey, old worn football padding (this is costing him badass points, who wears that much safety padding in the BRUTE FORCE WRESTLING ARENA?!), and a shoulder plate held in place with a belt around his torso.
He leaps into the twenty-by-twenty foot canvas ring with a hop and a horizontal spin like he were a hurled frisbee, coming to rest in a three-point landing in the center.
Lucky Glauber and Heavy D! head off to other parts outside the ring.
"You think this is gonna work, man?" Lucky asks over to Heavy D!.
With the searing overlight spotlights, the roar of the crowd, the overwhelming gusto of announcer, and now Brian Battler's dramatic entrance...the energy in the air has hit a boiling point. The fans here were promised a showdown and one can practically feel their anticipation. Brian no doubt has gotten a mass of cheers from his diehard fans, but so far that's only half of the picture.
Pyrotechnics explode at the opposite entrance as the spotlight tilts to illuminate the curtains. "Ladies and gentlemen, from Mexico, at 6'7 and weighing in at 270 pounds..." He pauses, letting the anticipation build, and then:
King walks out from the curtains with a confident stride, waving his arms and pumping his fists to work the crowd with a "amp it up" gesture. He then thumbs his chest before pointing straight up in the sky, his arm fully extended.
King, it would seem, says he's going to the top.
He makes his way toward the ring, blue cape billowing behind him.
You can feel the energy of the crowds by the time Jaguar King's name is announced. These guys before him? Sure, they were fine athletes, even great athletes, before.
The Jaguar King... that is a storied name that is beyond even that. Brian Battler is physically the bigger man. He does not measure up to the wrestling maestro by any other stretch of the imagination. The Jaguar King may well be standing before an infirm child, to compare the two between one another.
A microphone dangles from above on a wire designed to give the appearance of being worn and torn, casting off lights to represent stray sparks. You know, because BRUTAL.
Brian taps it gently with his finger. "Mic check. Mic check. Mic check." He murmurs, before clearing his throat and taking it with uncharacteristic delicate movements.
"Heeeeey." The mic feedback is awful. He cringes. "Pff. The hell is wrong with this shit."
The microphone does not tune. It chooses. The microphone has chosen that Brian is unworthy. With the slap of a meaty hand, he just sends it flying off into parts unknown.
"Hell does it matter, I'm talkin' to you, just you! Better listen up good, man, because I'm BRIAN GOD DAMN BATTLER, and I'm a third place finisher in King of... King of... uh..."
Lucky and Heavy get the cue cards raised. Brian's the best man for the job, but god, they know how many times the man's hit his head over his career.
"...Fighters. King of Fighters! I came in... some... place..."
Heavy D! holds up a card with the number '3'
"Three place! I came in three place." If only because his name was accidentally left on the team registration on account of his invite being stolen. A technicality! A curious quirk of bureaucratic fate that rode on the coattails of Ken Masters and Rocket, and no more. "So y'know, USA Sports Team is badass!"
There are soft boos.
"So, uh... J... J..."
Lucky holds up a card saying 'Jaguar King.'
"Jaguar King! You're a hard mother fucker in the ring. I know because I watch you wreck shit! Every time you're on, and I didn't just forget your name 'cause I'm not a fake."
Brian pats his chest with a meaty fist, so loud! You can hear him do it even without the microphone! He's certified tough! Or at least too thick and stupid to understand it hurts! Maybe both!
"So as the baddest dude on the USA Sports Team, I gotta ask you, the Jaguar King, the baddest dude in the organized sport of pro wrasslin', do you wanna..."
There's a trailing pause. Wait. Where's Lucky Glauber? Did Heavy D! just D!sappear on him?
"Uhh, guys... line... line...?"
Why was there a delay?
Because right now, there was a -growling- coming from under the ring.
Lucky and Heavy D! were staring at the apron of the ring, as another roar comes out. There is a murmuring in the audience. And then, from somewhere under the ring apron? Lucky looks at Heavy D!, and there is a nodding, the attention away from feeding Brian his lines. Bravely, Heavy D! approaches the apron, and pulls it away.
And the arena goes dark.
The audience begins to rise into a cacophony, as the suggestion begins. The hinting, the suggestion, the -atmosphere-. And in the darkness, there arises a single red eye. Another snarl erupts out, and at that moment the entire audience erupts in cheers and hollering. There is the sound of pummeling, and the moans and groans of two men. The single red eye drifts through the darkness, rising up and entering where the ring would be. Brian would see the eye descend on him, with a third snarl, as the mysterious figure in the darkness would lift Brian up, and then, swing him around by his ankles in a massive giant swing, before releasing him flying towards the outside of the ring. All with a growl and a red glowing eye, all with the rising crescendo of madness overtaking the audience as the ONE TRUE MATCH was about to begin. THey could taste it. They could feed on it. The USA Sports Team did not matter. What did matter was a growl and a snarl and a single red eye. And even there, in the shadows, they could see the outline.
Of a jaguar mask.
Jaguar King takes a step back--no, a half step. It's a movement of preparation rather than fear. King points a finger accusingly at the newcomer, shaking his head. He finally sweeps his arm in a dismissive wave in front of him.
"*jaguar noise*!!"Jaguar King seems indignant. Perhaps even insulted.
King points to the newcomer, then thumps his own chest. He points to the ring.
The audience was building into a frenzy. Frothing, at the edge of their seats. The anticipation was killing them. Even at home, people were glued to their sets. The livestreams were afire. THey knew what was coming. And then, the cries from Jaguar King. They were... off. Wrong. This wasn't the sound of a challenge. This was the sound of... the sound of... anger? Not kayfabe anger. But real anger. How could that be?
And the lights turn back on.
And it's fucking Marduk.
You could physically feel the letdown of the entire audience. A lead weight overtakes everyone, as people get physically sick at the display. Heavy D! and Lucky were unconscious at the foot of the arena, while Brian himself lands head first into a strangely placed Tuba for the Mother Mary Marching Band coming to watch the match. Oh, it would have been bad enough if it was just Marduk. But Marduk was wearing... a Jaguar mask. A black one, with a red light eye, obviously a cheap knockoff of what the people -really- wanted. And what does Marduk say as it truly sinks in the sheer depravity of the situation?
"HAW HAW HAW!"
That was Marduk laughing as he holds up the mask, pulling it off his head, looking at the audience. "Yeah, BITCHES! You thought it was ARMOR KING! But it was me! MARDUK! YEAAAAAH!" The crowd does not go 'yeah'. The pure venom and hatred that pours from the crowd could melt the faceplate off Dr. Doom. The sheer caustic spittle was the gnashing of teeth, the -boos-. Not even the incident with Rainbow Mika could compare to the sheer disappointment and outright loathing of the crowd. And when Marduk throws down the mask, and stomps on it? An actual gunshot goes off somewhere, the bullet ricocheting off of a turnstile? And what does Marduk say, as he stares back at the crowd cockeyed?
"IT'S A JOKE!"
"HAW HAW HAW!" Marduk leans over the ropes, snarling at the audience. "You bitch ass rednecks can't take a joke? I'm not actually Armor King you fucking morons. Armor King is a damn ass pussy who wouldn't even show up to take the temperature! Cause he knows I'm here, and I'm gonna PARK HIS ASS DOWNTOWN! I'll EAT his MOTHER FUCKING PANCAKES and SHIT OUT SOLID GOLD! YEAH!" Marduk pushes off the ropes, turning back around right towards Jaguar King. And there, arms crossed, he looks down at the wrestler. And he almost -spits- out the contempt.
"Why the fuck are YOU still here?"
COMBATSYS: Marduk has started a fight here.
COMBATSYS: Jaguar King has joined the fight here.
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Jaguar King 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Marduk
Jaguar King stands, arms still slightly extended at his sides. His posture is a man who is furious and on the edge of a lunge. It's not /quite/ his usual stance, but it's close. Jaguar King is like a coiled spring being wound ever tighter with each line from Marduk. Eventually, it will snap.
Someone watching closely can see it. Almost every line makes Jaguar King wince, but his focus never breaks. That pointed death glare stays laser focused on Marduk as he insults the fans, insults Armor King, insults the very nature of the sport. The mask is tossed down and stomped on, with each footall winding that spring tighter and tighter. And then question comes.
Jaguar King answers with a roar of such intensity that one could almost swear the lights rattle. A camera briefly loses feed. King launches across the ring like a runaway train. His arm snaps out, half-extended and bent at the elbow. The lariat swings for Marduk's neck, aimed at catching him in the crook and slamming him down hard onto the mat.
COMBATSYS: Marduk blocks Jaguar King's Shadow Lariat.
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Jaguar King 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Marduk
Marduk didn't even register that Jaguar King would be doing anything but just walk out.
The brawler pretty much expected that the wrestler would cry real tears, and then saunter out. Maybe dream about Marduk the next night, not tonight, bu the night after. A real wet dream, like something a queer would do. But Marduk wouldn't be offended, cause he was okay with fags and shit that jerk off to him in their dreams. I mean hell, that just meant they had good taste. But no, as the crowd goes rabid, what does he do?
Try and take him down.
Marduk only has enough time to bring his long arms up to catch the lariat, while the camera goes out. As it snaps back in, it shows them both on the floor. Marduk does end up on the mat, but his neck protected. Slamming his back hard, Marduk just snarls as he groans on the impact, the crowd SCREAMING for his blood.
"Look, maybe you just don't, haw haw, GET IT!"
Marduk moves in, without even getting off of the mat, with a roll and grab for the wrestler's leg. He wasn't aiming for anything impressive, just a quick legbar to wrench at the knee socket to get the pressure off. "I'm looking for Armor King, not some pussy ass pussy cat poser that dresses like him. I mean shit."
"You're not even worth my TIME!"
COMBATSYS: Jaguar King blocks Marduk's Quick Throw.
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Jaguar King 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Marduk
The lariat drives them both to the ground, but despite his bulk Jaguar King is deceptively agile. He rolls away from Marduk and springs to his feet, likely ready to follow-up with a splash or an elbow drop. His temper is still running hot, and King is out for blood. Before he can follow up, however, Marduk goes for his legs. Jaguar King grinds his soles into the mat, shifting his footing to get a better grip. He goes down anyway but lands on his locked arms, breaking his fall.
Jaguar King makes an accusatory jaguar noise, pointing at Marduk. He points at the mask, as if to call him out on poser comment. King then shifts his point back to Marduk...before transitioning to a downward thumb.
And with it, Jaguar King's boot snaps out toward Marduk's face since they're both grounded. The kick is aimed to stun the bruiser, giving King a chance to twist around so that the arm that was grabbing King's leg is pinned under his other leg as he swings it up and over. With Marduk's arm between his thighs, King grabs hold of Marduk's hand, applying pressure to the elbow using his legs while twisting the hand with his arms.
COMBATSYS: Marduk endures Jaguar King's Improvised Throw.
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Jaguar King 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Marduk
Marduk didn't seem to get the gravity of this situation.
As he brings King to the ground, he actually laughs aloud as he fights with the wrestler, trying and failing to overpower him. He looks at the pantomime with a full grinning attention. He doesn't seem to take it with any grain of salt. Until, that is, he takes a boot to the face. The smile doesn't fade. But the tone does.
"Oh, are you serious?"
"haw haw, oh my god, you are fucking serious." He chuckles a bit as Jaguar overwhelms him, sending him on his side as the wrestler goes right for his hand. "You really want to get down on the mat with me you god damn poser jaguar shit pile? Oh my shit, you Jaguars are really that fucking retards."
"And of course, I got to get with the faggot-ass Jaguar."
And then it gets right between the thighs, and Marduk suddenly tenses up."Oh my god." Marduk says as he barely conceals his OWN rock hard body as King starts to wrench. Looked like it was time for a counter-attack. Marduk on King action comes to full force as both wrestlers refuse to take respite. As King goes to wrench his own hand into a viscious bar, he was already getting his other. He would tense up, and lift the opposing wrestler right back.. as he brings the full force of his free hand straight for his throat. Oh, his trapped wrist was -agony- right now. But if this uppity Jaguar wanted to board the Marduk Express?
Well he was gonna punch that ticket.
COMBATSYS: Jaguar King Toughs Out Marduk's Fierce Punch!
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Jaguar King 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Marduk
Jaguar King applies the pressure, but Marduk doesn't give him long to keep it up. Muscle strains against muscle as the two push and pull against each other. Marduk lifts King and brings his fist around toward the luchadore's throat...
...but King lifts, taking the shot to his chest with barely a flinch. There's a heavy thump of fist against muscle, and it will definitely leave a mark, but Jaguar King continues on as if he'd been hit by a waterballoon instead. It serves it's purpose, however, as King turns loose from his joint-crunching lock around Marduk's arm.
But even as Jaguar King unwraps his legs, he swings on Marduk like his arm was a parallel bar. He brings his legs up for the bigger man's head, shooting for a leg scissors that'll put him atop Marduk's shoulders. From there, King backflips, aiming to flip Marduk completely over his own head and slam him hard into the mat!
COMBATSYS: Marduk barely endures Jaguar King's Frankensteiner.
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Jaguar King 0/-------/-======|===----\-------\0 Marduk
What was this Jaguar made of?
As Marduk's throat punch comes, he expected the man to at least flinch. But the lucha proves he is more than just a man as the wrestler pivots, taking the full force of the blow right in the chest, wiping the smile off of Marduk's face. The brawler begins to struggle desperately as King pivots, barely giving him enough time to reposition himself before those meaty thighs wrap around his head. "GAAAAAAY" He groans as is flipped, and smashed -HARD- into the mat.
He just gets up.
Well, 'just' is a misleading word here. As the audience roars in joy at being slammed, Marduk hits right on his recently trapped hand, turning a bad wrist into a worst one. He actually has a fracture now, he actually was hurting full force now. Taking two clean hits into it without anything from the Jaguar? This wasn't some woman he was beating down on now. This was a close friend of the old Armor King. So what can he do?
Start getting mad.
He doesn't have much to make up for the momentum. But with both grapplers getting on their feet, he was going to bury him. "You better watch out for this one, pussy ass." He snarls as he aims to snatch up King with both arms. Should he get a grip? He would swing him up, and then slam him down -hard- across his knee. All with a brutal, crippling intent. But that's not what gets a rise out of the crowd. Oh no, what causes ANOTHER shot to ring out? Was what he says with it, all with a nasty chortle.
"I pulled this shit on the last Armor King!"
COMBATSYS: Jaguar King blocks Marduk's Back Breaker.
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Jaguar King 0/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Marduk
After the Frankensteiner, Jaguar King rolls forward and springs back onto his feet. He pivots on his heel when he does, refusing to give Marduk a moment where his back is turned. He may enraged, but he knows better than to turn his back on Craig Marduk. King's arms at at his sides, bent at the elbow with his palms up. He shakes his head with a quick jerk, practically trembling with anticipation.
Marduk comes in and slips past King's defense. The man may be huge, but he's surprisingly swift on his feet. King is lifted up, up, and then he starts to drop, slammed down toward Marduk's knee.
A young man charges at Armor King. He parries the blow and pushes him away. He goes in again, but this time reroutes the shove to grab Armor King's leg and pull it out from under him. It's not enough, and Armor King hoists him up, bringing him overhead for a powerful downward throw. There's an exchange, almost a lecture in its nature, as Armor King teaches the young man how to roll with such a hit.
Jaguar King bows up, bracing himself with his arms and then rolling his forearms onto the knee instead of his back. There's still a meaty thump and the crack of bone against bone, but it saves King the painful consequences of taking the hit full on. He lands on his knee and backsprings away from Marduk. The gap between them does not last long, as King is soon springing back toward Marduk and bringing down both hands in an axehandle intended to clobber the man with enough force to buckle him over. If he can bring Marduk down, King slips his arms around his waist and hoists the man, upside down and high into the air.
And then King brings him back down with a massive tombstone piledriver.
COMBATSYS: Marduk blocks Jaguar King's Jaguar Driver.
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Jaguar King 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Marduk
The grappling intensifies.
Marduk slams the lucha over one knee. Yeah, he could be fast. But the wrestler just braces for it, and takes it in the arms, not the back. "BULLSHIT!" Marduk screams as he releases, getting ready to reposition. But the wrestler doesn't let him have it. Marduk is scooped up, the massive Vale Tudo fighter getting carried up. Repositioned for the move that broke Stone Cold Steve Austin, the brawler immediately makes like Goldberg and turtles up, breaking his arms out to cradle his noggin. His head avoids a main impact. But when he turtles up... that includes the bad wrist, which goes from worse to "OH MY SHIT!" Marduk howls as he falls backwards, breaking from the TOMBSTONE.
"Alright, that FUCKING DOES IT"
"All of you WRESTLING NUMB NUTS are really CRAWLING RIGHT UP MY ASSHOLE!" Marduk bellows, standing up and staggering away, pulling away from Jaguar King. Dazed and enraged, he just begins to babble out as he crashes into the ropes of the ring, barely holding himself up. "You MORONS just CAN'T TAKE A JOKE, and CONSTANTLY RUIN EVERYTHING. I TRIED to get the POINT through your THICK HEADS when I PUNK'D that RUST HOWARD LOSER, but OH NOOOO you WRESTLING TURDS are just TOO SLOW." Marduk just ROLLS his eyes as he pulls from the ropes.
"YOU'RE ALL DUMBASSES!"
"ALL OF YOU WRESTLERS! THE MURDERHOUSES, THE MIKAS, THE ANDIES, AND AS THE KING OF THE LOSERS? THE JAGUARS!" Marduk roars, pointing at the booing crowd. "SHUT UP YOU REDNECKS! SHUT UP MORONS, I AM TRYING TO MAKE A POINT HERE!" "PRO WRESTLING IS GARBAGE! IT'S NOT PROFESSIONAL! AND IT SURE AS HELL ISN'T WRESTLING! AND SHUT. UP. YOU WON'T LET ME MAKE MY POINT? YOU WON'T LET ME TALK! YOU JUST KEEP MESSING WITH ME, AND GETTING IN MY WAY, AND SENDING BEAUTIFUL WOMEN TO CONFUSE ME, AND =THREATENING MY MOMMA AT HER HOME!=" And the thunder drops. Marduk turns red as he covers with sweat, the last point pushing him over the line. Turning back over to Jaguar King, the spit flies from his lips, as he screams at the masked wrestler.
"WELL I WON'T STAND FOR IT!"
"I WON'T TOLERATE IT!"
"I'M GONNA SLAM THE GAY RIGHT OUT OF YOU, KING, YOU GOD DAMN HOMOPHOBE!"
COMBATSYS: Marduk gathers his will.
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Jaguar King 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Marduk
The tombstone piledriver slams Marduk into the map, but his quick-thinking turtle saves him from the worst of it. In a moment the two are separated again, Jaguar King resumes his low wrestling stance, his arms spread. He breathes heavily, still very much worked up.
And then Marduk drives it in harder. He insults the sport. He tears into the crowd. He tears apart name after name, then turns around and claims himself the victim. Perhaps, at one point, that last line would catch Jaguar King's attention. It would be a step to far--something enough to draw sympathy for even Marduk.
But then King notices the tattered mask of Armor King once more, and that ignites the fire in his belly all over again. More than insulting the sport, more than calling him out--what infuriates Jaguar King is the insult to the memory of the very man he killed, and the gumption to joke about it.
With a mighty roar, Jaguar King surges anew at Marduk. He surges in low, aiming to power into Marduk's waist and knock him off balance. From there, King moves to slip around, to catch Marduk under the arm and bend him at the waist then lock him into an arm lock--a Cobra Twist. Using his body as a lever, King will then try to pull back on the arm, brutally twisting that already stressed arm. And from there?
King tries to hoist Marduk up again, this time onto his shoulders, then fall back into a reverse suplex into the mat. Still unsatisfied, King then leaps off the nearby ropes, crossing over then launching up and back down into a vicious heeldrop.
COMBATSYS: Jaguar King blitzes into action and acts again!
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Jaguar King 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Marduk
COMBATSYS: Jaguar King successfully hits Marduk with Brutal Throw Chain.
- Power hit! -
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Jaguar King 0/-------/=======|=======\===----\1 Marduk
COMBATSYS: Marduk endures Jaguar King's Roundhouse Kick.
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Jaguar King 0/-------/=======|=======\=====--\1 Marduk
That is the response from Marduk as the Jaguar King comes roaring back. Marduk wasn't done talking. But King thought otherwise. Before the brawler could get another word in, Marduk actually is knocked off-balance... straight over the ring. King's momentum carries him over onto the concrete as he is smashed straight down into Lucky, only barely breaking his fall. There, he is torn right into a nasty armlock, bringing untold pain to the wrist that was already broken. Prone and dazed, he barely has time to get back up. The heeldrop from the face actually fractures his skull. The injuries were stacking up, they were stacking faster than he could handle. But as the crowd screams in joy, as the crowd goes into rapture at Marduk getting utterly -trounced?-
Marduk rises into a stand.
"King." The Vale Tudo fighter says in a very flat tone. "King." He turns as he stands over King. He wasn't letting King get up. The way he approaches King almost outside of time. Too fast, too present. It was like he was walking faster than what reality could handle. He was upon Jaguar King before the crowd could even stop it's cheering. He bends down at Jaguar King's legs with the methodological timing and presence of lifting up a bag of potatoes. The sheer lack of hesitation was overwhelming. The lack of screaming was unnerving. But as everyone slowly begins to react, they realize what Marduk was doing. He was going to try and lift King up by his knees.
And slam him flat on his back.
COMBATSYS: Jaguar King endures Marduk's Skull Crusher.
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Jaguar King 1/---====/=======|>>>>---\-------\0 Marduk
And Marduk slams King on his back.
The audience knew what it was seeing as Marduk mounts himself on King. They knew what they were watching as Marduk starts punching the lucha in the face. They could register what was happening. And yet, the cheers die too slow. And when they die, they fall into a cold silence. Marduk wasn't making a sound yet. He was just focused, with mechanical precision, on sitting on King's chest, and punching him in the head. Over and over again. This is how people die. This is how people die.
And this is how people let people die.
What breaks the silence isn't mercy. It's rage, a boiling over rage that was too slow to catch up to Marduk. The brawler suddenly growls, and then screams a feral roar. An unending roar that magnifies as he punches HARDER and HARDER into King's head, before the relentless fury overtakes him. He grabs the mask, and doesn't take it off, no. He just slams the back of King's head into the concrete again. And again.
He does not stop.
It never stops, until someone makes it happen.
Jaguar King ignores Marduk's protests at first. Filled with fury, he tears into the man well beyond King's normal limits. He is a wrestler; he makes his living beating people half to death, but he also has honor. He knows his limits and makes it his business to know theirs. He stops within reason and handles himself with honor. This is what Armor King taught him. This, however, has gone well beyond that.
And Marduk responds in turn. When Marduk doesn't speak, but also doesn't stay done, King's eyes widen to the point that it's clear even with the jaguar mask on. He gets just a moment to brace himself, but then Marduk barrels into him, taking him down to the ground by flipping his legs out from under him. King hits the concrete hard, and his well-muscled body thumps meatily against the floor.
There's a steady sound of thumping, muted by the crowd at first but growing steadily louder as the din fades. King weathers blow after blow, with bruising and the cracking of bones as accompaniment. As it intensifies King goes deathly silent, refusing to break character with anything other than a jaguar noise. Is he dead? Did the crowd sit by and watch a man get murdered?
The response is like a cobra strike. It's a sudden, vicious movement like the stinger of a horror movie. The last, sudden jerk of a monster, not dead after all. King reaches up to grab Marduk's wrist and pull the arm forward. That, however, is the distraction. King's knees launch up into Marduk as the luchadore tries to exert enough force to bodily throw the man off of him and over his own head. Fortunately for Marduk, with any luck it may launch him back up and into the ring for what comes next.
Jaguar King roars once again. It's guttural, almost wet noise that's telling of the damage he just received. Even so, it does not stop his advance. He barrels toward Marduk again, practically expecting him on his feet again since King is still fighting. He feints left, then feints right, sweeping down and under Marduk's grasp to try and sweep up and catch him in a headlock--a cobra clutch, specifically, putting that injured wrist in a chicken wing.
But it doesn't stop there if he gets hold. King uses the cobra clutch to apply brutal pressure, switching his grip from a cobra clutch into another cobra twist, practically trying to fold Marduk across his chest. Pressing hard, King then tries to hoist him up and over, repeating that suplex before....or so it seems.
It continues as King rolls over Marduk, transitioning into a second German suplex from behind. Then another. Emboldened by his bloodlust, King then spins around, aiming to hoist Marduk up again, spinning him around his head before slamming him back down with another piledriver.
But it keeps going.
Still unsatisfied, King lastly tries to scoop Marduk up once final time, launch into the air, then start a downward death spiral into a ferocious screwdriver.
COMBATSYS: Jaguar King successfully hits Marduk with Mexican Magma Driver.
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Jaguar King 0/-------/-------|>>>>---\-------\0 Marduk
Marduk didn't feel any pain.
He didn't feel any when he punched with a broken wrist. He didn't feel any as he was overpowered, the lucha lashing back, fighting back, overpowering back with intense, powerful precision. He didn't feel any when Jaguar King unleashes the intricate chain of body locks, arm locks, slams, and throws. He didn't even feel any as his broken bones multiply and intensify. Because there was only one thing that he felt.
Pure rage, over the insult over Jaguar King still fighting back. He was numbed to the endless chain as he is brought harder down again and again and again and again. Every blow was magnifying the broken body of the brawler, doing damage that his body knew, but his mind did not. As the suplexes come, the head injuries follow, as he reaches M. Bison levels of concussions. And yet, nothing. Almost totally numb. But there was one thing he wasn't numb to.
The rising cheers of the audience.
"Aw man, King." Marduk belts back, as he suddenly rise back up from the screwdriver, no hint of slowing down. The audience gasp, as Marduk doesn't seem to realize just how much he had gone under. His pupils were different sizes. His speech was awfully slurred. "Mythy're CALLING fa me. They WANF me. Alrightmmmmou fucking Jaguff. Fhey wanf murh? Then itime faf..."
'The Marmup Essssss'
Marduk lurches down, as he adjusts his trajectory. His arms were crooked, a bit of bone poking out after the cobra twist. The damage that was done to this towering behemoth's body was unbelievable. He looked like he fell into a piece of factory machinery, he was twisted, battered, and broken. ANd yet, no sign of slowing down just yet. Marduk would grab Jaguar with his broken limbs, unfeeling, by his very throat. And there, he would worry him, shake him like a british nanny, before slamming him head first into the edge of the arena. He felt fine. His body wasn't fine. But he felt fine.
COMBATSYS: Jaguar King blocks Marduk's Strangle Slam.
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////// ]
Jaguar King 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Marduk
Jaguar King finishes the complex series of the throws that make up the Mexican Magma Driver. Normally, this would be the time when King would take center ring, raise his fist in victory, and work the crowd. Even beaten and staggered as he is, King has enough of his head to wrap things up. Or he would, but Marduk keeps coming.
King snaps to attention, spreading his feet wide for a low blocking stance. His growl is questioning. Possibly perturbed. Marduk /should/ be down for the count. In some ways, King may have been hoping on it to sate his bloodlust and keep him from going for more.
And yet, Marduk keeps coming. King digs in, bringing both arms up to block the incoming chokehold. He's holding on to Marduk's arm when he's lifted and slammed, likely making matters worse by clutching tightly to the shattered bones and bruised muscles. But Marduk keeps coming, driven by rage. King flies into a fury again himself, frustrated at his inability to keep the man down.
He swings out, aiming to catch him in the face with a quick jab, intent on breaking his hold.
COMBATSYS: Jaguar King successfully hits Marduk with Quick Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////// ]
Jaguar King 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Marduk
There was another watching this fight, a seven foot giant who had quietly taken to the front row. There, surrounded by excited fans sat the black-haired, black-mask wearing "MURDERHOUSE" Mick, dressed casually in black shirt and black jeans as he glared out at the action. As he did so, he kept his eyes on the one with the cat head, having fought the armored version some time ago. After that defeat, the Auteur of Hardcore had been looking to avenge himself.
But that would come later. For now, he merely enjoyed watching a slugfest, and enjoyed scouting his potential opponents even more.
Marduk wasn't stopping.
As he throws King away, he already moves in. And in turn, King moves into him. Every step that the titan was taking, was building in the damage against him. And slowly, ever so slower, he was beginning to realize just how much damage was done to him. He was staggering, slow, stumbling. The weight was building on his shoulders. And yet, as King goes for the face punch? Marduk doesn't even BLINK as he tries and fails to catch it.
"Oh you're down sucker."
"OH YOU ARE DOWN!"
Marduk suddenly and swiftly hurls in recklessly and violently. Twisted and broken limbs lashing out, he was attempting to finish this. Not with a face punch, no. He was going for a full takedown. And should he seize up King in that takedown? He would just flip him over, and unleash the most unceremonious and unfulfilling end to this fight. He would catch his leg between Marduk's thighs. And twist in a leg bar at the knee socket. Not even a KO.
But a cripple.
COMBATSYS: Jaguar King endures Marduk's Knee Bar.
[ \\\\ < > //////// ]
Jaguar King 0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0 Marduk
Despite all odds, Jaguar King keeps going. He can hardly see by this point, the injuries from earlier gradually catching up with him. All things considered, he took the beating on the concrete like a champ. Mika was practically out like a light, but Jaguar King soldiered on, driven by righteous indignation and a burning desire for vengeance.
But now, even Jaguar King's ability to keep going is burning out. Marduk goes for for the takedown, knocking King off his feet. The Aussie takes his leg and puts it into a wrenching lock. King slams his fist down against the mat in pain, letting loose a pained roar.
But Jaguar King musters another tremendous effort. He surges forward, pulling himself with his arms with such force that he seems like he's trying to take Marduk off his feet. If he gets him to the ground, King staggers up on his shredded leg, moving for a twist of Marduk's leg in return. From there, he sidesteps, practically hopping to try and wrap the still resistant Marduk into a pretzel.
He he succeeds, King backdrops onto him and then rolls Marduk up, pulling his arms back into a King's Bridge. He pulls tight once, twice, but that's all he can manage before losing his grip, exhausted.
Even so, King seems to have aimed for a statement. It may not have been his signature Muscle Buster, but still the manuever of a King.
COMBATSYS: Jaguar King can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\ <
COMBATSYS: Marduk interrupts King's Bridge from Jaguar King with Gator Slam.
[ \\\\ <
Marduk was a blight on the entire fighting scene. His existence, his actions, were beyond deplorable. And what was worse, he went for a pathetic finish. The crowd boos, amongst the one Mick hidden amongst the crowd. Marduk didn't see him. But as he falls on his bottom, and rises up too slowly, King suddenly latches back on. Marduk nearly falls to the ground, his entire body groaning in pain. Pain, that was returning. Marduk suddenly felt the rage fade and the pain return. He was on borrowed time. And as King attempts to whip around him-
Marduk seizes him up.
With a singular, strong lash, Marduk snaps King forward straight, and then just -slam- him by his leg, the leg he barred, right down on the concrete, using the moment to rise to a stand. His arm would be in a cast, Marduk's. Recovering would be slow and painful. But breathing hard, Marduk looks back at the fans, at the audience, as he brings down the Jaguar. And what does he say?
And Marduk gets pelted with beer cans.
FULL beer cans.
And out of nowhere, a steel chair brains Marduk, sending him stumbling backwards.
COMBATSYS: Marduk has ended the fight here.
MEANWHILE, SOMEWHERE NOBODY CARES ABOUT
Brian Battler lies in a bloody, broken heap. One leg is in the air, twitching, as he drools out the side of his mouth with a vacant stare.
Lucky and Heavy D! sit down, heads hung low.
"This has been D!meaning," Heavy D! laments.
Log created on 12:46:38 07/05/2017 by Marduk, and last modified on 12:01:32 07/07/2017.