Match of the Millennium

Description: The last stop in our American birthday extravaganza is the capital of another titan of industry: Germany! The great American hero Mike Bison will put his fists to the test against German** steel in this clash of powerhouses! Both fighters will be driven to the battleground before the gate in top-of-the-line vehicles provided by our sponsors, Ford and Mercedes-Benz, under the glow of fireworks above the iconic gate!

[M. BISON]
The former world champion of boxing, Mike Bison, is hardly on German soil for five minutes before he's escorted into the rear driver-side seat of a waiting Mercedes-Maybach GLS SUV outside Berlin Brandenburg Airport. Rushed past crowds of shocked travelers - many of whom stop to take photographs of the infamous boxer - the Shadaloo enforcer and all-around great guy is surrounded on every side by his suit-clad security team... although the usefulness of such a shield is questionable, considering he stands a full head taller than any of them.

Already waiting in the luxury SUV is his long-time manager, the equally famous and shady Don Sneed; the man who has been at Mike Bison's side through most of his career, and who has organized the tasteless 'exhibition' matches he'S taken part in after leaving the professional circuit. The 6'6" beast of a pugilist settles in beside his manager - the fact that the suspension doesn't immediately buckle under his weight is a testament to the quality of German engineering, and probably a better advertisement for the vehicle than any of Mercedes' stupid TV commercials.

The drive isn't a short one by any imagination, and after an hour or so of traveling on winding European roads - the sounds of 'Love Train' by the O'Jays on repeat for the majority of the trip - the famous Brandenburg Gate is finally in sight, along with a veritable throng of onlookers and media.

Bison turns his head to face his manager... who, it must be said, doesn't exactly look at ease, for whatever reason.

"So, who's this chump I gotta fight, Don?"

His manager clears his throat audibly, the slightest hint of apprehension appearing on his ruddy, alcoholic face. Slowly and with a bit of hestiation, the well-dressed Don Sneed pulls out his phone, unlocks it and scrolls through the pictures until he finds one of Leo Whitefang - taken surreptitiously during some operation the officer was part of. Bison grabs the device out of the man's hand and holds it close to his face; he squints at the image, as if in disbelief at something.

"...Don, he's got swords."

"...yeah, Mike..."

"...Don, this is a boxing match, right? He's not gonna use those, right?"

"... ... ..."

"...right, Don?"

"...weeeeeell, Mike... about that..."

"...You son of a BI-"

The various bystanders and camera crews who have assembled to witness this titanic clash might be surprised when the Benz slows down significantly, causing the cars following behind him in his motorcade to press on the brakes as well. The rear passenger side door swings open, and the unconscious body of Mike Bison's manager is booted out of the still-moving vehicle; the crowd reacting with a hushed silence, as their roaring applause suddenly dies away.

As the car comes to a stop, Bison's opens his door and steps out before the vehicle has even come to a complete stop. The boxer is wearing a rather gaudy pair of American flag trunks and a sleeveless robe similarly adorned in the Stars and Stripes. Walking up to the cordoned-off square where the fight will be taking place, his arrival is accompanied by fireworks going off high above the German capital - and a stirring hip-hop rendition of 'Amazing Grace', featuring the vocal stylings of Kanye West.

As he steps into the spotlit courtyard and slides off his red, white and blue robe, Bison is approached by a diminutive (in comparison, at least) German man holding a microphone. He holds it up towards Bison's mouth, reaching only about shoulder-height even with an extended arm.

"Ja, guten abend, Mike... what do you think of your chances tonight?"

"I'ma win, Fritz, or whatever the fuck your name is."

"It's Reinhard, sir."

"Yeah, thas cool, Hans - like I said, this fool ain't got no chance against me, with his goddamn Victor Creed lookin' haircut. Absolutely disgraceful, no style - swinging them swords around like he's one of the seven samurai or something, black and white movie watching motherf-"

"So I take it you don't think highly of your opponent?"

"Naw, honestly, I'm sure he's arright... seems like a nice guy, nothing against him, but uh... I'm definitely gonna make orphans of his children."

"...oooookay. I'm not sure he has ki-..."

"Arright Friedrich, we done."

Shoving the man away, Bison lifts both his hands up in the air as one of his entourage rushes forward with a pair of boxing gloves - beginning to tie the objects around his massive, meaty fists as the audience awaits the arrival of his opponent.

[LEO WHITEFANG]
A few hours ago.

"For God's sake, Alyssa. What in the seven levels of fresh hell have you gotten me into!"

"You requested, and I quote, an opportunity to begin to show the world the quality of Illyria's leadership and knights - you also noted that you were tired of playing nice with the bounty on your head by the NOL and were - and I quote - interested in thumbing your nose at them at least once in awhile. Also an opportunity to personally investigate any signs of Ramlethal and--"

"...But I didn't mean,,,THIS.."

"I thought it an opportunity to show the world..your quality."

"..You're mocking me now."

"Never, sir."

"Alyssa...he's a boxer."

"..He's a famous boxer?"

"For killing someone in the ring?"

"..He's a famous boxer?"

"...Fine..I'm committed now. At least the match is in Berlin. I suppose the organizers have SOME taste.."

Second King Leo Whitefang is -not- pleased. He becomes decidedly less pleased at Bison's arrival and antics in the ring. He's already present. The Illyrian delegation arrived early to inspect the site with their own brand of security. With a bounty on his head and the other various magical assorted sundries that Illyria gets involved in..one can't be to careful. An excitable hunter might very well attempt to interfere here. Thus a cadre of various armoed Sacred Order knights and Illyrian assistants dot the crowd and the side of the 'ring' that is considered Leo's. Thus he watches with a dour expression on his face as Bison does his..ah..introductions and he just gets angrier and angrier.

An instant later and he's vaulted forward to land into the ring with a heavy thud. When the mic turns towards him he reaches out and snatches it up.

"WHO DARES STAND AGAINST ME??"

On cue the Sacred Order knights bellow, "AN UTTER FOOL, SIR!!"

"And WHO CHALLENGES ME??"

"ONLY THE BRAVE, SIR!"

"WRONG! BOTH ARE FOOLS!!"

[M. BISON]
As his opponent roars away to the apparently well-orchestrated responses of his fellow knights, Bison turns to the security team waiting in his corner of the courtyard - just outside the borders of the fight - and whispers to them harshly.

"Why the hell don't WE do shit like that?! Y'all better learn some GODDAMN CHANTS when we get back to Vegas you useless punks... I oughta take you out back this piece of shit tourist trap an..."

His chastisement of his entourage is cut short as one of them points behind Bison's shoulder - seemingly to indicate that Leo has finished his boisterous introduction. The boxer cranes his neck to check, catching the last statement the blonde man shouts out.

"Did he just... oh I do not fucking BELIEVE this, I am gonna BEAT his anime convention looking ASSSSSSS...."

Trailing off with a lisp, Bison points one glove at his assembled crew - as if to remind everyone that he's not done with them, not by a damn sight - before turning back towards his opponent and taking a few quick steps into the well-lit courtyard. The crowd roars as he stomps forward, his massive frame just barely beating Leo's in height by two inches - a small advantage, which is sure to be rendered void by Whitefang's combat experience.

"If that's the case then call me a damn fool, bruh."

Bison may act like a loud-mouthed buffoon in every other aspect of his daily life, but in the ring he is a different man; eyes darken, his mocking expression turns into a dangerous scowl, and his face creases with concentration. Taking up his boxing stance as smoothly as an Irishman drinks their way to the bottom of a bottle, the Greatest of All Time shuffles back and forth on nimble feet - gloved fists weaving circles at chest level and staring daggers at Leo.

"Take your shot, sideburns."

[LEO WHITEFANG]
"I believe I will place your name next to the word 'obstinate' in my dictionary..." mulls Leo as he listens to Bison and remains, unmoved, in the face of his aggressive and intimidating physical presence.

But despite his declerations of Bison's own status regarding such things, Leo Whitefang is himself, no fool. He would not have been second in command of the order and now Second King of Illyria by being 'a fool'. Bison may be coming across as bargain bin basement thug in attitude..but some research has been done.

"I understand you're strong enough to kill an elephant with one blow. You are just as dangerous unarmed as I am armed..still.."

Leo slides into a combat stance and iron chi and sorcery interact to warp the liquid metal of his Iron Cross blades into being, "I believe it would be prudent to use a larger percentage of my own strength to make this fight fair. Don't worry though. I've enchanted these blades to not disembowel or otherwise barbarically harm you as this is an broadcasted exhibition bout after all.." He grins, confidentially, and adds "But they -will- hurt.."

He inclines his head in consideration of Bison's offer to take the first blow. There's a brief pause...and then he does!

He moves with the speed and power implied by the name of the super-villainous fictional character that Bison mockingly compared him to. Though ultimately it is the impression of a Lion that he also leaves as he dashes forward a blaze of golds and silvers that seeks to cross Bison up while trailing chi behind him in a slashing arc against the powerful boxer's frame.

COMBATSYS: Leo Whitefang has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Leo Whitefang    0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: M. Bison has joined the fight here.

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M. Bison         0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

COMBATSYS: M. Bison blocks Leo Whitefang's Kaltes Gestober Erst.

[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////////  ]
M. Bison         0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[M. BISON]
Even as Leo addresses him, the former champion keeps his guard up - an instinct beaten into him long before he ever stepped into the ring, as a youth on the rough streets of Metro City. If he were more introspective, Bison might take a moment to consider the juxtaposition of his life - from brawling with fellow hoodlums in alleyways, to fighting a Sacred Order knight in front of thousands in a European capital.

But a few too many blows to the head have robbed him of the brain cells for such thoughtful retrospection; if he ever possessed them in the first place.

Keeping up his practiced footwork, the large man bounces on his toes with a remarkable grace for someone of his size. As Leo makes it known that he's kind enough to not eviscerate his opponent on live television, Mike responds with a rumbling chuckle that comes from deep within his barrel chest, made all the more threatening because his face remains deadly serious and with a sharp focus that comes from decades in the boxing ring.

His attention pays off, as the Knight takes full advantage of Bison's offer to open the hostilities with a speed that seems unusual for a man of his size. Will he duck and weave? Sidestep the attack?

He might attempt such a thing, but what would that prove? Bison made his living as being an intimidating beast of a man; and establishing his toughness early had won him many bouts in the past. His bouncing stops suddenly, feet planted firmly into the stone of the courtyard as he raises his gloved hands up to his face - thickly muscled forearms protecting his neck and chest. He crouches slightly, balling up his giant body as much as possible as he braces himself for the attack. It hurts, there's no doubt about that, but Leo was being honest when he said he'd enchanted the blades, not that Bison even knows what the hell that means - and he doesn't lose any limbs in the process.

Leo has hardly slid past the boxer, before the man drops his guard and spins his body around to follow... the chi still hangs in the air as Bison dashes after the Knight - crouched low as he moves, drawing one fist back behind his ear before unleashing it at midsection-level in a quick punch. He's not doing much more at this point than testing the man's defenses... but if it lands, that won't make it hurt any less.

For all his bravado and trash talk outside of the ring, Bison is well known for his concentration when it comes to the fight itself. For the time being, he's silent as he studies his opponent's movements, gauging strength and speed with every action and reaction...

COMBATSYS: Leo Whitefang blocks M. Bison's Running Grand Smash.

[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
M. Bison         0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[LEO WHITEFANG]
It might be a test but a testing impact from a small electric car is going to land differently then one from a semi. Bison is a semi and faster then Leo had initially calculated. His initial strike is weathered and countered as Leo turns about to bring the flats of his blades up and to brace his prodigious frame against the force of the blow just in time to ward it off.

The force resounds powerfully, vibrating through the broad expanse of his iron cross swords and sending a visible shockwave out away from the two powerful fighters that ripples along the ground and shakes the nearest bystanders.

Leo holds firm though his face scrunches up in a grimace at the force of the blow...and then he's off again, lunging backwards a pace and then forward again with a spinning slash attack that sweeps his blades around in a backhanded strike for Bison's considerable torso with speed being exchanged for power..

COMBATSYS: Leo Whitefang successfully hits M. Bison with Kahn Schild.

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M. Bison         0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[M. BISON]
Gritting his teeth as his glove slams into the crossed swords, Bison damn sure wasn't expecting the big guy to recover and react so quickly after his initial attack. The impact from striking the flat edge of Leo's massive weapons travels up his arm before dissipating across his thickly muscled shoulders and chest. For his part, the giant boxer's arm doesn't even flinch - quickly drawing it back in an effort to defend himself against any swift counterattacks.

He's quick, much more so than Bison might have expected at a glance - and his movements have an uncharacteristic agility for a guy that big. But that's a trait he shares with the infamous brawler, and the audience seems enthralled by the swift exchange between the two. There's a /lot/ of German being muttered in hushed tones among the crowd, as the applause dies down to better focus on the two men fighting it out in the courtyard.

Leo is so quick, in fact, that there's barely a pause before Bison finds himself on the defensive - far sooner than he might have anticipated. A quick, rushed backstep is the only sign that he's been taken unawares by his opponent's haste - but it doesn't do anything to help him escape the danger zone. Leo steps back, lunges forward, spins... and Mike is just seconds too slow to guard his midsection; the blades strike, a heavy blow that smashes into his tensed abdominal muscles. It doesn't cut deep thanks to the Knight's honourable debuffing of his magic weapons, but it still hurts like hell.

Though that's a sensation Bison is more than comfortable with, and he makes his own lunge forward - attempting to step into the fray rather than be driven backwards from the sword blow. Two massive red boxing gloves come reaching to try and grab Leo; one aiming to hold him from behind the head, the other trying to wrap an arm around his back.

And if he manages to get his opponent into a clinch? Well, it's headbutting time, baby - the Shadaloo agent aiming a few bone-crushing slams into the man's nose and mouth using his thick skull.

COMBATSYS: Leo Whitefang blocks M. Bison's Violent Clinching.

[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////       ]
M. Bison         0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[LEO WHITEFANG]
He can see where this is going. These repeated hammerings and counters are going to tire him out faster then the massive boxer.

"Ergh!" Leo grunts, gruffly and roughly as he brings the blades around again to block Bison's meaty grasp from entangling him and drawing him into the clinch. The attempt itself surprises him as well and he calls out, "Not exactly a manuever I would associate with a boxer! both curious..amused..and perhaps deep in the back of his mind..lightly alarmed.

The force of the block causes a rebound effect to occur which Leo uses to help push himself away from Bison, gaining some distance briefly while commenting, "It would seem we both need to get more creative..!"

He springs forward at that, lunging at Bison and leaping upwards into a turn and then a wild spinning kick that sends a massive leg hurtling downwards like an incoming thunderbolt.

COMBATSYS: M. Bison endures Leo Whitefang's Quick Strike.

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M. Bison         0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[M. BISON]
Leo's skill with a blade gives him a slight advantage in this match, as the boxer has little experience with such weapons. Even among Shadaloo's enemies whom he is sent to intimidate and defeat, there are few who wield a sword - particularly with the honed skill that a Sacred Order officer possesses.

Hell, the last guy swinging a blade he tangled with was that damned Mad Gear boss out of Metro City... Chainsaw, or Switchblade or something like that? Anyway, even he used a katana and was weighed down by a ridiculous samurai suit - Leo's weapons pose more of a threat than some puny Japanese sword, and he moves unencumbered by any armour.

His clinch is expertly escaped with the aid of those massive blades - and as the Knight makes his surprise known a cheesy, toothy (well, minus one tooth, at least) grin makes its way across his face. Usually he doesn't smile in the ring until he's well on his way to beating his opponent to a pulp, but he finds the man's shock at his underhanded boxing style somewhat amusing.

"Shit, you ain't ever seen me throw down? Then you in for a surprise, Captain or Lieutenant or whatever the FU..."

Cut off before he can finish by another rush from Sabr- Leo, Bison doesn't take a step back or to the side... instead, he steps /into/ the attack. He's expecting another swing of those swords, so when his opponent takes to the sky it comes as some surprise.

But there's an opportunity there, as well. He's far more used to eating strikes from legs or fists than he is walking into the business end of a sword... and so, when the kick comes crashing down on him, Bison braces himself. The blow impacts his massive shoulder, and to an amazed gasp from the crowd it doesn't even shake him - the boxer remains standing as tall as he was before his large foe brought that weight smashing down upon him.

With an enemy as quick as this Knight is turning out to be, enduring such an attack and staying in close quarters might be the difference between missing his next punch and landing it... and one good blow could prove the turning point for this fight.

It would, after all, take him some time to live down a televised loss against THAT haircut.

"CATCH..." he bellows in a voice that rises above the din of the crowd, accompanied by a bodyblow thrown with his left. Even if Leo manages to block the first strike, he keeps coming - decades of training combining with a lifetime of anger to drive him forward in a vicious combination.

"THESE..." - a quick uppercut with his right hand, aimed at Leo's chin.

"HANDS...!" - Bison's roar cuts off after this last word, stepping forward and finishing his combo of punches with a savage straight using his right fist.

COMBATSYS: Leo Whitefang interrupts Hard Pressure from M. Bison with Konigliches Gesicht.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////           ]
M. Bison         1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[LEO WHITEFANG]
They seem surprisingly well matched. Bison may have the edge in raw pure power but Leo is no slouch himself. A hard hitter and a rapid striking beast with strength to drive his blades to sheer apart stone, metal and the reinforced chassis and magical armoring of Gears..he's got muscle to spare as well. But Bison occupies a specialized league that is hard to compete with and as Leo recoils from the lack of give on his kick and lands roughly, exposed and vulnerable, his mouth tightens and his eyes narrow as the rush of fists come hurtling in.

There is no option to block, and to attempt to weather the strike would be foolish..sturdy though he may be. That leaves only one option..one that happens so fast that the crowds can hardly follow the movement.

Chi both golden and silver flares in a brilliant display of light as Leo thrusts his chest out to meet the incoming attack. He seems to enlarge, torso growing to twice its original size only to reveal it's an illusory image. A vast bust of his torso forged from his purest chi which blazes upward to meet the strike head on and take the flurry of blows directly. The chi is a solid physical thing which blasts upwards into a rising column of force that pushes back against Bison to rebound the force of his blows back onto him..but it's not -all- blunted and Leo is sent skidding backwards, nearly falling over as the two fighters are again pushed apart. The chi visage dissipates, leaving Leo looking bruised but not looking like he'd probably be looking had those blows landed in full.

"I think I'm starting to get the picture...and it's 'King'.." is his retort, finally, to Bison.

[M. BISON]
His opponent might not know it yet, but trading blows is one of Bison's specialties - and an advantage that has carried him to victory in many past bouts. His toughness and general recklessness when it comes to injuries helps him to shoulder past counterattacks and keep up the pressure, when other fighters might be forced to relent.

It's part of why he seems to be constantly moving forward to attack in this fight, rather than taking a step back to compose himself and properly react to the Knight's assaults. If sideburns wants to keep exchanging hits, Mike is more than willing to do so as well - especially since the Sacred Order officer seems to be more than his match when it comes to swiftness.

A knock-down, drag-out scrap seems to be the boxer's only chance here... and he's just hoping his opponent doesn't realize that.

But it's not just the speed he has to contend with, it's techniques like Leo has just employed against Bison's frantic combination rush; a wall of chi that seems to reflect the impact of his own blows back at the Shadaloo enforcer - causing a growl of frustration to escape his scowling lips. And while the pain is no small thing, the fact that he notices his attacks having their effect on Leo as well means that he carries out the combo to its completion all the same.

He's used to forcing himself through pain and counterpunches to land his hits, and this is no different - despite the unusual abilities the Knight seems capable of. He'll just have to adapt, and by adapt he intends to punch harder and harder until something works.

His last blow against the column of chi reflects enough force to make him skid backwards several steps - feet pressed against the ground, but doing little to stop the reverse momentum. Finally coming to a halt some short distance away from Leo, Bison pauses long enough to roll his shoulders and crack his neck to one side, throwing a few quick jabs in the air as his opponent addresses him.

"Aight; go ahead and slay, King."

Ugh, Twitter slang. The man is an absolute menace to good taste.

"If you CAN!" he bellows just before rushing forward once again, his body weaving back and forth as he closes the gap in what might appear a desperate rush - really, he's just hoping that Leo can be baited into attempting another exchange like the last one.

Regardless of how the Knight reacts, Bison's forward dash carries him towards the man like a goddamn cannonball - one that happens to have a massive fist attached, coming out in a right hook aimed at the side of Leo's head.

COMBATSYS: Leo Whitefang blocks M. Bison's Medium Punch.

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M. Bison         1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[LEO WHITEFANG]
As should be clear now, the second king is no slouch physically be it defense or offense. The exact scope of his abilities may be a mystery to the public as he's shied away from tournaments and overt demonstrations of his might due to spending time laying low to avoid igniting NOL wrath while building Illyria's power base..but that may soon be changing.

He's not considered a combat genius for nothing...no wait that's Ky. Argh.

But Leo is indeed his own brand of combat genius and tactician, such that he knows that the veneer of Bison's brutality is just that - a veneer. He knows what he's doing and Leo will not win a war of attrition here. He must strike hard and fast and that suits him just fine.

Thus when the blow comes in, he again turtles and braces against it.. this time holding his ground to avoid being pushed back. He seems to obtain a burst of endurance then. A rushing kind of second wind that invigorates him as he brings his sword around in a counter attack slash from the side o try and throw Bison off balance, and then follows up with his other arm to bring forth an assault that is actually not to different from Bison's previous attempt at clinching him. This time Leo uses the reach of his second sword and the flat of the blade to try and pull the boxer in close in the aftermath of his initial strike.

COMBATSYS: M. Bison blocks Leo Whitefang's Klingenetz.

[                 \\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
M. Bison         1/----===/=======|=======\-------\1    Leo Whitefang

[M. BISON]
A man like Mike Bison - for all his faults and oafish ways - can always be relied upon to study his opponents long before stepping into the 'ring' with them, but even Shadaloo's data on members of the Sacred Order can be lacking at times. There was precious little information available, with the exception of a few photographs taken from long distance and some second-hand stories of the man's combat prowess.

Whereas anyone could go to their local library and pull countless tapes of Mike in the ring over the decades; not to mention documentaries about his training regimen, diet, sexual exploits, criminal record (in America), his other criminal record (in Thailand), and his other, other criminal record (in India)... as well as his remaining 47 criminal records (Azerbaijan to Zimbabwe).

It's put him at a disadvantage over the years, having his fighting style be so thoroughly documented - but he's usually been able to pull ahead with sheer brute force... the problem comes when he faces an opponent he cannot physically bully, and Leo Whitefang is proving to be one of those rare cases - able to nearly match the boxer in strength, and easily surpass him in speed... all while possessing a frame and musculature that is nearly as impressive as Bison himself. For all his trash talk, the Shadaloo agent has gained a bit of respect for the Knight today - not that he would ever acknowledge this fact, of course.

Leo's first counter-swing comes swiping through the air from the side, but the enchantment which is dulling the blades gives him an opportunity which jumps to his mind immediately. Rather than spin away, Bison stands his ground and raises his right arm above his midsection - seemingly giving the sword a clear path to strike him dead-on...

...but at the last moment, that lifted arm comes crashing down, wrapping around the business end of the sword and pinning it temporarily against his body. The edge still crashes into his tree-trunk like torso, but it doesn't even cause him to flinch - he's used to sucking up bodyblows and fighting for round after round, his endurance often outmatching the stamina of his opponents. And if Leo tries to pull the sword away from Bison's grip, he'll find himself temporarily trapped in close quarters with the monstrous boxer.

"Gotcha, bitch!"

Those two words are the only warning he's going to get, as Mike takes a step in - still doing his best to keep the sword pinned to his side with his right arm - as he rears back with his left fist and aims a straight punch into the middle of Whitefang's face.

COMBATSYS: M. Bison successfully hits Leo Whitefang with Dash Punch.

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M. Bison         1/---====/=======|=======\====---\1    Leo Whitefang

[LEO WHITEFANG]
The blow lands thunderously. Enough force that would probably kill an ordinary man, permanently ruin many others. For Leo....well..it hurts. It hurts badly. He was already weathered from his repeated defensive efforts against Bison's overwhelming strength. A clean hit is the last thing someone should want and it indeed forces him backwards with a spray of blood a muffled roaring cry and shock of pain that nearly sends him tumbling fro the power on display.
%Nearly sends him tumbling. His powerful legs flex, his torso adjusts and he twists to regain control before blinking a few times to clear blood from his vision.

And then he grins, "Finally showing your quality. So let me show mine! This hunt has only just begun!"

He brings his massive arms up and then slams his two swords together. Chi and magic warps into them, beginning to morph and modify them like some sort of insane T-1000 effect.

"And a lion always hunts with one hundred percent of his strength!"

Leo crouches back as chi bursts around him violently, blasting away dust in a billowing plume.

"Your very genes remember that terror! Every human knows in their soul to run in fear..."

Leo springs forward, launching like an incoming asteroid as he brings his weapons infront of him.

"...When the LION BEARS HIS FANGS!"

The morphing, whirling, blades suddenly form the visage of a gigantic roaring lion whose maw opens up wide as Leo seeks to literally slam full power into Bison just as his battle cry finishes...

COMBATSYS: M. Bison interrupts Windrad des Weltraum from Leo Whitefang with Gigaton Blow+.
*KNOCKED AWAY*

[                    \\\\\\\\\\  < >  /                             ]
M. Bison         0/-------/----<<<|======-\-------\0    Leo Whitefang

[M. BISON]
Here's where Bison's hard-earned expertise really starts to shine; he might not be the quickest thinker or the swiftest boxer on his feet, but he knows how to read an opponent. Their strengths, their weaknesses, and what really makes them tick in the ring. It took him a while to study Leo's movements and reactions, sucking up every bit of information that he could with his practiced gaze; no easy task, considering the Sacred Order officer's skill with those swords, and unusual, undocumented style of combat.

For most of the fight, Bison was on the back foot, even though his constant aggression might have disguised this fact to the audience - and possibly even his opponent. He's good at appearing confident and fearless, even when he's fighting to /barely/ stay one step ahead. Keeping up the pressure and utilizing the intimidation factor that comes when a 6'6" wall of muscle will /not/ let off the attack is one of his strongest hands to play in the ring, and it has rarely failed him.

His gloved fist smashes into Whitefang with a sickening force that causes a series of gasps, hushed whispers and a few 'OHHHH DAAAAAAAMN's to rise up from the assembled crowd... but if he's pleased with how things have turned out, his serious and stern visage shows no hint of such an emotion.

Mike has more important things to worry about than enjoying his opponent's pain - this is the first real break he's had in this bout so far, and he's seemingly focused on pushing the advantage as far as possible while he still has the chance. As Leo is forced backwards, Bison is /already/ stomping to catch up with him - though he is noticeably not making another reckless dash ahead, instead moving with a slow, almost T-800esque (the superior Terminator) determination.

The slow, consistent pace of Bison's advance allows Leo to make his own boisterous statements; he is far more poetic and well-spoken when it comes to trash talk than the simple boxer he is facing, that much is certain.

As chi and another, more unknown power begin to manifest into the Knight's unusual weapons, Bison finally stops in his place - though seemingly not out of fear for the attack to come. He doesn't raise his hands into a guard position, merely keeping them dangling loosely at his side - and he's not shuffling back and forth with his typical footwork, both feet planted firmly on the ground as he stares down the wild-haired officer.

He has the look of a man who is determined to make his stand here and now, no matter what comes his way.

Of course, if he knew what /was/ going to come his way, a sane man (which Bison, arguably, is not) would likely rethink that idea. But by the time Leo finishes his boasts and springs into action, it's too late to do anything but meet him head on.

"YOU think you can beat ME?" he asks, sounding almost insulted by the very idea - as though it wounded his martial pride.

Lifting one glove in front of his face, as if to inspect it, Bison suddenly smiles wide - exposing a few missing teeth from previous fights. As the spinning, twirling blades seemingly coalesce into the face of a monstrous lion, he cocks his fist out and back - like he were reloading a shotgun.

But that fist is more deadly than any traditional firearm.

"Momma said KNOCK YOU OUT!"

And then, like the big bang that birthed this universe - that fist comes barelling forward just as Leo is fractions of a second away from slamming into the boxer. What follows is nothing short of a goddamn mess, as his fist hits home right as that lion's maw - and the man behind it - smash into his lumbering frame.

As if on cue, one of Bison's entourage - who has gained access to the production booth some distance away from the courtyard where the fight is taking place - surreptitiously slips a casette tape into the sound system, cranks the volume to 10 and hits play. The engineers and workers in the booth look around in surprise as a goddamn /classic/ suddenly begins to blare over the loud-speakers.

o/~ Shadow boxin' when I hear you on the radio
Uuh, I just don't know
What made you forget that I was raw?
But now I gotta new tour
I'm goin' insane startin' a hurricane, releasin' pain
Lettin' you know you can't gain or maintain
Unless you say my name
Rippin', killin', diggin' and drillin' a hole
Pass the Ol' Gold
I'M GONNA KNOCK YOU OUT (HUHHHH)
MAMA SAID KNOCK YOU OUT (HUHHHH) o/~

The music continues, to no small amusement from the crowd - a veritable mob of German citizens suddenly shuffling, dancing, and throwing poorly-done gang signs in the air. Back inside the ring, though, Mike is done celebrating; he may have landed what usually amounts to a killing blow against lesser men, but he's learned enough about Leo Whitefang during this brief exchange to know that he is /anything/ but.

Once the massive, earth-shaking, elephant-destroying punch hits his opponent, Bison moves to take a step forward... but his leg suddenly gives way underneath him, and the massive man finds himself falling to one knee, barely catching himself with a gloved hand. Seconds away from falling face-first to the floor of the courtyard, he has managed to prop himself up for the time being... his head cranes upwards to try and catch sight of the shape his opponent is in after that last hit. Normally that would be the end of the bout, but something tells him Leo isn't /quite/ done yet.

"Shit... hurts..."

That groaned statement is accompanied by a brief cough, depositing a splatter of blood onto the otherwise pristine stone underneath him - to another roar from the onlookers.

ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!!?!?!?!?!

[LEO WHITEFANG]
It is -extremely- spectacular looking and satisfying to watch. That's for sure. Anybody who ever had anything against Leo and his vaunted level of confidence.and ego is probably rolling over dead with laughter or grinning so hard that the mad laughing gas from the likes of The Joker would be put to shame.

The molten silver of Leo's blades unspool violently and dramatically with a shower of sparks and a burst of flames and iron chi. Leo is caught straight into his torso with a resounding thunderous BOOOOM that roars out over the combat zone and over the crowd along with a visible shockwave. His blades reform into their original battle ready status, looking none the worse for it. Leo does not look none worse for wear. Leo looks...decidedly worse.

He goes flying backwards, tumbling into the ground and rolling violently before suddenly getting a burst of energy that lets him kippup mid flight and then bring his blades down to the ground to arrest his movements in a dramatic backwards skid. The pain seems to have not caught up with him yet and he attempts to press up to his feet only to then collapse forward in agony and bring his blades up just in time to keep from falling over.

"Strong enough to kill an elephant.." he spits out, blood coming from his mouth.

"Fortunantely I'm not just strong..I'm VERY strong." And so able to survive such circumstances if barely. Such is the power of the Second King..and fighters in this insanely madcap world.

"But..I now shall..I shall.."

He struggles to rise again and then finally drops to his knees.. "I think I shall declare this hunt over."

And down he goes. The timing such that Bison is still upright and so Leo is himself out like a light without seeing Bison himself double over from pain. In fact..the last thought in his mind is..

"..I need to find out who this Victor Creed is. He's stealing my style.."

COMBATSYS: Leo Whitefang takes no action.

[                    \\\\\\\\\\  <
M. Bison         0/-------/----<<<|

COMBATSYS: Leo Whitefang can no longer fight.

[                    \\\\\\\\\\  <
M. Bison         0/-------/----<<<|

[M. BISON]
The music suddenly cuts out, no doubt one of the engineers in the sound booth finally yanking a plug and saving everybody present from an entire casette tape filled with the same goddamn song. Though it must be said, there a collective moan from the audience and a few jeers to 'put zee damn sonk back on, ja?' and such - clearly Bison's style is rubbing off on the assembled Berliners.

When the boxer steadies himself on one knee and glances up, his opponent is already out cold on the stone courtyard floor. Despite that, he's still amazed the man was able to stay on his feet - albeit propped up on his swords - and /talking/ for so long after catching Bison's infamous killing blow. It's rare that anyone eats a Gigaton Blow dead-on without immediately lapsing into unconsciousness, and Bison is shocked despite the fact that it still won him the match.

After a brief, hushed pause from the onlookers - waiting to see if Bison, too, collapses unconscious - there is a sudden burst of fireworks that explode into the air from behind both pillars on the Brandenburg Gate. The colours? Red, white, and blue, baby. And what's that on top of the Gate itself? It looks to be several balaclava-clad individuals dressed in all black, and they appear to be unfurling what looks like a large banner that spans the entire length of the Gate.

It reads 'USA: 3, Germany: 0' on top in giant letters, then underneath - in slightly smaller print to accomodate the amount of words crammed in there - 'lol you guys suck seriously what's the deal? like, you start two world wars and we have to come beat your ass, then someone comes up with the idea to...' then underneath THAT '...fight MIKE BISON. what did you seriously think was going to happen? think you'd all sit down for some ale and a few schnitzels and...' then underneath THAT '...laugh about how lame the french are? come on, man, that was never gonna happen. y'all should've just stayed in your goddamn castles or wherever you people live and...' then underneath THAT... well, it goes on for about six or seven more lines, each one getting progressively smaller to fit more text

With a low groan that resembles the rumble of an approaching earthquake more than any sound that might come out of a man, Bison finally pushes off the ground with his boxing glove - using the sudden upwards momentum to propel himself back to his feet. It takes a second or two of swaying to finally find his footing, but he remains standing - and finally settles into a confident swagger, walking several feet ahead, then turning around and walking back in the opposite direction. The entire time, he's got one fist raised high into the air, head thrown back to stare at the open sky above as the Star-Spangled Bannercontinues to play on.

"OVER THE LAAAAAAAAAND OF THE FREEEEE..."

Yep, and he's singing along.

COMBATSYS: M. Bison has ended the fight here.

Log created on 19:36:33 07/02/2021 by M. Bison, and last modified on 23:09:39 07/03/2021.