Match of the Millennium

Description: Buford and Braun face off in Abigail's Scrap Yard, pitting beeg at beeg between the seasoned and well respected veteran of the NFG against a rude and crude fresh furry face. The duo unga their bungas in rushdown fury, but something else blossoms in the kokoros of the two fierce and furious fighters... (DRAW)

[BRAUN]
"Man....what a dump..."

He's seen worse places and it's also not like he doesn't fit in here either. Truthfully..he -could- have been Team Frost had fate not decided on Team Blaze. The gargantuaq Mad Gear CHief, while maybe only S tier compared to Zog's SS and Kongou's SSS in terms of size ..would have still been a powerful mentor to his 'A' tier bigness and brutishness. Juri's got that killer instinct and power and...well...she's Juri. Angel's fine as hell but both her and Juri are very much look but don't touch.

He's alright with just looking.

The rest he wasn't sure about. Not that he's complaining. It's just... "A scrap yard for a battleground? Really?"

Braun leans forward atop his massive motorcycle, posture and voice languid in contrast to the reputation he has garnered about his overall behavioral patterns. His immense arms are folded across the handle bars, left hand dangling on one side and on the right hand holding a nearly emptied off brand can of beer. His bike is just outside of the gated territory of Team Frost, having actually arrived early...even before the film crew and so he's been boredly watching them set up for the fight for some time now. His quiet menace unsettling them even though his expression was, at best, lazy mild interest to full on disinterest.

Eventually the time for the match draws nearer and nearer and he finishes off his and then crumples hte can up..tossing it over into a growing pile of cans that he'd been building up since earlier this morning.

He might be just sliiightly drunk right now.

[BUFORD]
"This -dump- is the workshop of the greatest craftsman I ever had the pleasure of meeting!"

Those were the words that rise up, as the big-bodied Buford comes straight out from behind a wrecked ice cream truck. He is clad in a thick black coat stretching last over his flame-decorated black cargo shorts, down all the way to his curly haired calves and a pair of black cowboy boots. Pins bearing the images of young-looking cartoon girls carefully stud the fashionable yet functional garment. The collar of the coat is popped, obviously used to protect his soft and hairy neck. Underneath the jacket, in the occasional moments it is open, reveals a form-fitting white t-shirt stretched over his healthy frame, his long brown hair is tied up in a samurai-style topknot, fitted neatly underneath his felt-brimmed fedora. Any other stray locks are kept under tight control by a dark green bandana bearing a kanji symbol. His icy blue eyes are protected by a pair of athletic black goggles, and he is armed with Suchimusodo, the reforged Vapor Blade.

HIs face was smeared with strawberry-colored cream.

Bringing his messy lips to the hilt of his sword, he gives a deep burble with, before unleashing a thick cloud of chocolate-scented goodness. "I had hoped that as a German, you could appreciate the finer nuance of fine engineering. Looking at that ridiculous clown bike, it's clear to me you represent the -other- German stereotypes. I'm surprised you didn't need training wheels to pull in here!" The Canadian turns up his nose, sniffing loudly in his own cloud. "Disgusting, and have you been polluting yourself with liquor as well? I hope you know that it not only affects the quality of your liver, but practically makes your sperm count into single digits! Hmph! You don't deserve my introductions, but out of respect to the New Fighting Generation, I will give it to you."

And Buford takes off his fedora, bowing like a samurai.

"I am 'Big' Buford Maclanky, of the MacClanky Clan, but you can call me the Faithless Samurai!" Buford replaces the fedora on his head. "As the Ronin of Rationality, I will act to protect the honor of Daimyo Abigail! Your insults against his garden of artistic delights will be punished most severely. Naturally, against a buffoon like yourself, I will need to use more than my finely honed swordsmanship skills, but my Acumen and Genius! Come on, remove yourself from that Harley Has-Been, and let us answer the age old question." He brings his sword back into it's sheath, gripping the handle tightly.

"Will Brains truly overcome Braun?"

COMBATSYS: Buford has wandered into a fight here.

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Buford           0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Braun has joined the fight here.

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Buford           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0            Braun

[BRAUN]
Sometimes having enhanced senses is quite the bother. Being what he is, Braun's got quite the animalistic awareness of the world around him. The benefits are obvious, of course, especially for one seeking the title of champion in the world of fighters, roughnecks, mercenaries and worse...but it can bring with it difficulties. Growing up with these talents plus training and added focus from that has aided him in not simply going mad with sensory overload, especially in a place like the roaring chaos of Metro City but there are times when he'd like to be able to just turn it off.

Like right now. His broad flat vaguely great cat like nose scrunches up, nostrils flaring as his whole being is assaulted by Buford a few instants before he makes his presence fully known. Such is his presence that Braun barely registers his words in the haze of trying to rebalance simply being able to tolerate being near him. It's a scent wholly his own. Specially crafted, presented, and carried and Braun suddenly has half a mind to just cancel the fight and go home.

Small wonder he's usually at least half drunk...

But some of Buford's words do pierce the haze of his confusion and annoyance and ..it only serves to just confuse and annoy him further leading into a befuddled stare with his mouth slighlty open. "Sperm Count..th'hell?" he drawls out before straightening up to his full height, rising from his seat. He rolls his neck and flaring his shoulders, physique visibly tightening up beneath his fur as his expression grows more sober. He then abruptly vaults forward and up off of his gigantic bike in a cart wheeling flip that contrasts his vast frame, and lands in a crouched stance before straightening up before the approaching samurai.

"..Somebody in this tournament's got a reaaaaaallll bad sense of humor.. I'd heard you were a piece of work but it figures they'd make you my first match. Th'hell are you inhalin'? Tar?"

He begins a slow looming approach towards the defiant canadian, lifting one arm up slightly and opening his fist up to reveal large massive talons at the end of tree branch thick fingers. "I shoulda brought my nose plugs. Let's get this done. Quick. B'fore my face melts off..."

He suddenly lunges. Moving with a burst of speed like a shot fired from a shotgun. He drags his arm behind him, brings it low and then sweeps it violently upwards and forward in a wild slashing motion that rips through the air and kicks up an arcing shockwave, visible through the blasting air distortion and the ripping apart of dust and debris as it blasts across ground and air towards the waiting Buford.

COMBATSYS: Buford just-defends Braun's Shockwave Claw!

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Buford           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0            Braun

[BUFORD]
Buford doesn't actually seem to be all that aware the fight has started.

Holding on the blade, Braun proceeds to complain about his vaping. As he moves like a shot, Buford beings to unsheathe his vapor blade, activating it's vibration function. "Well, if you are curious, I had imagined I was going to having an encounter with Guinevere Bouvier instead of a ruffian like you." Buford explains as he -cuts- the shockwave in half. He doesn't even seem to be fully aware of what he was doing, more focused on explaining to Braun about the facts with his fumes. He just- the vibrations- he just vibrated away the blast wave with a singular cut of his blade. Shouldering the blade, he begins to rush directly at his opponent with the opposite shoulder first, the remains of the blast peppering his jowls and leather coat. "And I had hoped that I was going to give her a rich inhale of her native Swiss Chocolate. It's a Sea Salt Seasoned Dark Chocolate, in case you are wondering. You see, unlike a brute like you, a woman -appreciates- the natural scent of a man."

"Especially one accented with the mouth-watering flavors of candy"

With the thought of a Buford dipped in hot fudge fresh on the senses, the samurai closes in at Braun surprisingly fast. Unshouldering his blade, he unleashes a staggering overhead swipe aiming straight across the chest of Braun. "All you Germans are alike, hairy and fanged, as well as being too big. Just like that Cleo Wolfsbutt or whatever that ridiculous Catholic zealot from Illyria is called. " Buford scoffs. "At least the men."

"The women are not nearly as furry."

COMBATSYS: Buford successfully hits Braun with Fierce Strike.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-

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Buford           0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0            Braun

[BRAUN]
It's not the wild insanity of Buford's prattaling that is the problem. Truthfully..Braun has spent his professional life immersed in the seedy under belly of the world. He's heard some -absolute- trash talking coupled with lunatic ravings and drunken threats and wild outlandish and outrageous comments with people believing their own hype and all sorts of wildness.

and that's just the tip of the iceberg where that's concerned. He's seen the videos. He had some vague understanding of the various tournament members so he had some understanding of what he was getting into with Buford.

Plus he saw The Rumble.

So there is all of that to consider. It doesn't make Buford's nonsense any less crazed to his ears but he can tolerate most of it. No. The problem is that Buford doesn't seem to be paying attention and he -still- managed to not only disperse his first attack but ready a second one faster then Braun anticipated.

At least it shouldn't have been that fast. He can see it coming. It's actually seems to be somewhat telegraphed. But perhaps he's just too thrown off still. Perhaps he's stll too drunk. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

None of it matters in the end. It lands. "Hey.." Braun begins just before the strike cuts in, pulling a loud bestial roaring sneer from him and a spray of his blood as the force of the hit surprises even him.

Almost on relfex he spins lunges backwards in a move to put some short distance between himself and the stout canadian in order to regain his bearings. As he disengages and falls backwards he jumps, lunging a huge clawed foot out and pistoning his leg out in a violent kick intending to slam into Buford and to use the force of the blow to push off of him to aid in his backwards lunge.

COMBATSYS: Buford dodges Braun's Light Kick.

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Buford           0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0            Braun

[BUFORD]
The roar surprises Buford as well.

It surprises him a LOT. Buford was so much up his own ass that when the bellow comes, it snaps him straight back to reality. HE didn't even seem to realize how -hard- he cut his opponent. So much, in fact, that Buford lets out a shrill squeal in terror. Nearly wetting his pants, he leaps back, trembling as his legs pump away. His own fear seems to have given him a moment of foolish respite: when Braun unleashes the kick, Buford had somehow lept up on top of the ice cream truck. Well. Scrambled up. He climbed up, precariously. Shaking, he holds the sword in front of him. Breathing hard, he swallows, adjusting his fedora. Finally, he gives a smug smirk.

"Hmph! So-"

There is a metallic groaning sound.

Buford looks around in terror, as the ice cream truck begins to fall over. Buford glances around in terror, gauging the ground and Braun. Afraid of the roaring man and of gravity, he lets out a whimper as he makes a wild leap off the ice cream truck. Flinging through the air, he swings his sword around wildly. It wasn't clear if he was going to even hit Braun this time. But the look on his face now?

The Faithless Samurai might have pissed himself

COMBATSYS: Braun blocks Buford's Soul of the Edge.

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Buford           0/-------/-----==|======-\-------\0            Braun

[BRAUN]
The massive beastman lands with a heavy thud, sliding back a few paces before straightening up and reaching up to press his hand against his bloodied chest. His wounds are healing but not healing rapidly enough..

"Nngh. Damn. Mebbe I.."

His nose wrinkles again and he snaps his attention to Buford's..antics. Befuddlement and shock at just -how- that slab of a human managed to end up on top of the broken ice cream truck and further confusion at Buford's reaction to the damage -he- inflicted!

"Man...." Braun breathes heavily, pushing up to his full height once more and then coiling his body as he sees Buford make an attempt at regaining some semblance of dignity about him.

"Alright we're gonna run this 'again'.." he rumbles, deep voice managing to sound both languid and predatory all at the same time. "Man, pick a lane and stay in it.." he grouses as he sees Buford's expression and, perhaps more importantly, smells just a faint hint of..shall we say.. unintentional and unwelcome added perfume from Buford's less then ideal bladder control.

There's no time for a snide comment though as he springs forward to meet Buford's decent, raising both of his arms up to blunt the strike of the sword. It scores into his flesh, drawing blood yet again but Braun pushes back against it, seeking to actually force Buford airborn from sheer momentum and strength.

He then leaps upwards for im, a lunging clawed grappling attempt that, if successful, will carry both massive men upwards into the air with a flurry of slashing wind. A spinning assault that would carry both men up in spiral and then back down again towards the ground for a thunderous crash that would mercifully at least not slam right into the ice cream truck, should the throw work as intended.

COMBATSYS: Buford blocks Braun's Cyclonic Driver.

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Buford           0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0            Braun

[BUFORD]
Buford wasn't exactly a stay in lane guy even on the road.

But as his flurry slicing charge is met with a crash, he only barely regains his composure as the ruthless fiend attempts to seize him. Well, he is snatched up. But fortunately, thanks in due part to Katana, Brian Storm, and also the Rumble, he was well experienced in being grabbed. Thus, as he is sent up into the spiral, he actually breaks free with a short, aggressive belly bump, blowing himself free of the thunderous crash with only mild cuts from the energy. He even avoids the knocked over ice cream truck.

The old washer machine, however, doesn't make for a soft landing.

Buford slams into it with a bang, falling off with a grunt. While not as badly hurt as of he stayed with Braun, he was definitely winded. Standing up, he puffs his chest out as he smirks. "Ah ha! See! Brains are superior to Braun! You see, its a pun. A pun is a type of word play, only those of superior intellects can leverage." He brings his vibrating hilt to his lips, and begins to puff. "Now watch as you become befuddled in all your senses, as I sink deep into my fog, and then, strike at you from all sides! It's pretty ingenious. I don't blame you if you get a headache from my, erm." He takes a deep breath, before choking, gagging out a thick burst of chocolate fog all around him, mingling with the natural odors of a true Samurai. In between coughs, he sputters out his question before he sinks into the mist.

"Who wet my pants?"

COMBATSYS: Buford pushes himself past 10% of his strength and chokes on his fattest cloud yet...

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Buford           0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0            Braun

[BRAUN]
The mean looking 'thundercat' manages a slightly more graceful landing. Sort of. It's still seven feet and nearly four hundred pounds of muscle and fur tumbling downward, out of control now from the break away of the belly bump forcing him into a violent downward spiral and crash into a pile of tires. He springs from them, using their own buoyance to help spring him back up again..sending him into a wild tumble that finishes with his claws diging into the roof of a trashed and long gutted car. Metal screeches and warps under his weight and the grip of his claws and he shakes his head, mildly stunned from that dizzying ordeal.

Buford's words cut in throug his haze ndd a bestial snarl rumbles from the depths of his massive chest. A sound no normal man should ever be able to make, even though it is muffled and restrained.

"I KNOW what a pun is!" Braun thunders .. but he's inwardly forced to admit that this buffon is better then he expected.

"Yeah, not bad... I guess I'm gonna need to put in some real effort to close this gap....urgh."

The fumes. The fumes. Both eyes squint shut violently and then one pops back open..twitching visibly as his body shakes. "Hurk...fine, that does it!"

Faint hints of a reddish chi crackles about his massive hands as he straightens up again ..and then he springs forward..kicking off of the hulk of the car to spiral into the air ..and then come thundering downward towards Buford with both of his clawed fists swinging downward in a crushing haymaker.

COMBATSYS: Buford dodges Braun's Aggressive Strike.

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Buford           0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0            Braun

[BUFORD]
"As my mother used to say, I think you'll find that it'll take a lot to close MY gap!"

Buford's words are followed by the wheezy, choked chortling of laughter, as Braun braves the choking cloud. It's a hollow laugh, and Buford -audible- moves to stay away from the deep growls of Braun. In the center there is a clear, shadowy shape. But as Braun rises then falls into the mist, he connects with.... a washing machine. The impact, along with the energy, quickly blasts away the mists. The swirl of motion comes as the shape of Buford moves deceptively quick in his dissipating chocolate fog. Buford makes an audible squeal as he realizes that his cover was being blown away.

Buford then proceeds to boof -another- cloud.

A wave of gravy-scented mist mingles with the faint tang of urine and hot chocolate, as the grey goodness layers over the black mist like a cake. "The land of Eternia called!" Buford declares as he dashes in from the remains of the mist, slashing in with a fierce full-moon overhead slash. "And it seems He-Man is missing his Battle Cat!" The momentum of the slashing accelerates as he clings to the mixture of clouds, slashing from the left, right, and under in rapid succession, dancing in and out of the cloud, the final slash completely disintegrating it. "Or perhaps I should say..."

"His Cringer, Bwuh Hoo Hoo Hoo Haw!"

COMBATSYS: Buford blitzes into action and acts again!

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Buford           0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0            Braun

COMBATSYS: Braun endures Buford's The Last Blade EX.

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Buford           0/-------/--=====|=======\==-----\1            Braun

COMBATSYS: Braun blocks Buford's Cloudchaser.

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Buford           0/-------/-======|=======\===----\1            Braun

[BRAUN]
The washing machine flattens under Braun's impact. He presses of of it, going airborn again with a trail of shorn metal and plastics falling behind him as he twists and arcs back around, grimacing.

It's hard to say if it's his miss that causes the grimace, his injuries..or buford's comment about his mothers 'gap'. Probably all of it. Probably mostly the last one.

"I'm gonna carve a new mouth on yer face for you, you little--"

he sneers, trying to regain his footing as he lands..only to turn right into the slashing whirl of the 'samurai's blade. He's no time to block, but just enough time to grit his teeth - tense his body and bear -into- the full force of the assault .. blood spraing as his eyes flash and his nostrils flare. His fanged teeth grit and there's a creaking sound as they begin visibly enlarging. His entire body seemingly stretching and changing. Piling sinew on sinew. Creaking bones and ligaments.. His very mane starting to lengthen.

"You Battle Cat!?" he roars out as the rapid succession of slashes come whirling back in. "I'll -give- you Battle Cat!"

He seems to almost explode in size with a sudden surge of red angry chi crackling over him. Seeming to gain at least a foot or more in height with his spike hair flaring out into a red hued mane and more tufts of hair spiking out on his forarms and legs. His garments strain and expand with him either by design or some strange interaction of his chi.. but either way when the slashes come in each one is meet by the giants flashing claws with sparks flying and loud *clangs* rippling through the air as despite his size he moves with matching speed to Buford's strikes.

The samurai sees the giants massive maw looming overhead as if he's about to literally try and clamp down onto his head.. but at the last second Braun instead suddenly surges forward. A blur of movement that comes in like a comet as he attempts to slam his body in a tremendous shoulder tackle that blazes energy along his immense form and trails behind him like a comet.

On impact, he would carry them both a distance, perhaps through more of the wreckage such as the ice cream truck. But hit or miss he rounds - lunging into a follow up attack still i this enhanced gigantic form as his body springs forward and then up - dragging his clawed hand along the ground and then upwards into the air in a whirling spinning upwards slash against the samurai.

Needless to say with the rapid movements between the two.. some high speed cameras likely need to be in action here.

COMBATSYS: Braun blitzes into action and acts again!

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Buford           0/-------/-======|=======\===----\1            Braun

COMBATSYS: Buford blocks Braun's Chimeric Crash.

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Buford           1/-------/=======|=======\==-----\1            Braun

COMBATSYS: Braun successfully hits Buford with Whirlwind Fang.

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Buford           1/---====/=======|=======\====---\1            Braun

[BUFORD]
The speed between the two now was beyond compare.

The fact Buford could keep up with Braun, the fact Braun could keep up with Buford. While the swordsman. When his cutting barrage ends, Braun explodes by trying to- trying to bite his head off? Buford brings his katana to deflect, stopping Braun from getting too close. It does little to stop Braun from carrying him off though, and as he is carried forward, the lion man erupts with an upwards slash, piercing Buford's guard as it rakes across his chest. Flabby form revealed, soaked with blood, Buford lets out something between a squeal and a moan. A Sqoan as it might be known. It might not be first blood.

But as Buford lands with a crunch, it might not matter.

The struggle here was the size difference, and it was building step by step. Buford wasn't used to fighting opponents so much larger than him. "I am beginning to suspect," Buford states, wincing in agony as he pulls into a stand, "That you are more than just a German. Dare I say, are you like one of those creatures of the night? Like the green French girl cursed the enormous chest pillows? Or the raccoon girl with the tummy? Or mayhaps even the unnaturally smooth legs of that witch? Or perhaps you are one of the suiters of fur, dedicated to the ways of the animals... not unlike myself?"

A confession?

Buford levels the blade before him, holding himself steady. "Well, let me tell you the truth. I can't escape this hell. So many times I've tried." It begins to sound like Buford was attempting to sing, though his grasp of pitch and volume is as much of a sensory assault as his vaping. "But I'm still caged inside. Somebody get me through this nightmare. I can't control myself..." And suddenly, brings the hilt to his mouth. Sucking on it with a deep burbling, he exhales. The Taste Of Normandy. A fresh rush of creamy vape scent spreads around him in a cloud, as he haikus.

"So what if you can

see the darkest side of me?

What I Have Become."

And Buford begins to cut.

Not himself, no. But with his blade! Not cutting himself with his blade, but Braun. Buford does a frenzied blur of slashes. Swinging his blade side to side wildly, he was moving so fast that the high speed cameras might have to get involved. While he lacked in the superhuman powers like Braun, he had something else that Braun didn't have. Confidence. Also, sobriety. A true Samurai must not just keep his spirit clean, but his body clean, untainted by the allure of the feminine flesh as much as the poison of the bubbly spirits. The relentless slashing assault ends as he steps back. And with incredible flourish, he spins with a swirling slash, sending the remaining mist into a tornado straight at Braun. The tornado.... doesn't actually do anything per say.

It really smells like brie though.

COMBATSYS: Braun blocks Buford's Tenderless Reaper.

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Buford           0/-------/---====|=======\=======\1            Braun

[BRAUN]
"Nngghh..."

Another rumbling snarling groan. It could be assumed that he's reacting to Buford yet again.

Most people would.

But it's something else. A painful pressure inside of him. The commentantors referred to it as a his curse. He didn't recall what he told them all when signing up for this. Maybe he didn't say anything. Maybe they somehow knew. but either way, the intense pressure on his body..the pounding in his chest.. It's not dood to say the least.

When he lands from his assault he's forced to one knee briefly. If he wasns't as injured as he was he might have been able to weather all of it but as it stands he's struggling. So much so that he almost misses that..performance.

Almost.

"You.." he begins, voice a demonic rumbling gutteral tone as he turns his body towards Buford only for sheer instinct alone to kick in as Buford flash steps the distance between them and the blade come whirling in towards him with speed that seems quite impossible. The twinkle of an eye is the space of time he has and in that his arms come up, claws out and massive limbs blurring this way and that, to catch the blades against them. Sometimes his against his dense flesh but usually against his massive claws sending sparks flying wildly and blasts of wind whipping through the area. A final defiant parry and whipping of his arms sends a shockwave out that blasts away the funnel cloud of mist just as it reaches him, leaving him in a crouched and ready stance as he grins furiously at Buford. His enhanced form crackling with visible chi once more as he maintains it.

"...You're absolutely horrible. I like that..." he drawls out with that big fanged grin..and then he suddenly blazes forward to return the favor.

His massive body lunges into a series of rapid fire blitzing swipes. Each one dragging a washing wave of jagged chi behind it as he flurries into Buford with attempted strike after strike that ends when he springs forward and attempts to burst past the samurai in a final cross up attack that trails criss crossing contrails of enegy in the air behind him. His bestial roar echoing wildly through the Bay Area as he does so.

COMBATSYS: Buford blocks Braun's Monarch's Relentless Fury.

[                    \\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////                     ]
Buford           1/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0            Braun

[BUFORD]
The speed of the duo was only accelerating.

As Buford unleashes his swiping frenzy, he was exposed in the flourishing finish. The tornado of scented mist being cool, but utterly ineffective in stopping Braun. For a moment, Buford felt the beast within him nearly unleashed. He knew that he had tried hard to contain his darkness. But if his opponent was a beastman... then he had only one course of action. Well, he was -going- to take that course.

And then he says he likes Buford.

Buford had imagined this kind of scenario before. Of course, it was less with a tall imposing figure like Braun, but maybe closer to the secret strong side of a beautiful yet gentle woman, who would be immediately commanding him and ordering him what to do, but also be affectionate. Like a mother figure, but a completely different relationship with completely different benefits. And certainly the idea would involve a -German- sometimes, just not a German -man-. And in completely different headgear. As Braun surges at him, the flurry of swipes are met with precise deflections by his sword. The swipes are stopped dead on, but the real test of the spirit was the waves of energy that followed up. Buford could pick between the swipes that he knew he could handle... or the waves he wasn't sure of. By sticking with the swipes, Buford takes wave after wave of chi full on, refusing to yield. A passion had filled his kokoro, and while his clothing was in tatters as it comes to the climax, the final cross up attack is met with the same stalwart endurance, a deft deflection as the contrails of energy cycle through him. HIs body was battered, beaten. But by the time he looks after his opponent?

Buford is blushing.

"I'm- I'm sorry," Buford gasps, gripping his vibrating blade with both hands. "I'm flattered, but I am saving myself for a barefooted maiden with white hair..." Buford was sputtering, face bright red. "A bear and a lion, I don't- I mean I always saw myself as more of a cub but- oh my g-g-goodness." Buford seemed to be completely flabbergasted, unable to control himself as he whipped his sword in a one-two slapping motion, trying to recompose himself. It was a terrible and embarrassing attack. But well. Buford wasn't exactly a wonderful and cool person either. Well at least Buford wasn't sure.

Not until Braun had confessed to him just now, at least.

COMBATSYS: Buford successfully hits Braun with Quick Strike.

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Buford           1/------=/=======|====---\-------\0            Braun

[BRAUN]
Both fighters seem spent. In Braun's case, the power sustaining his enhanced form seems to reach a limit. Visible chi rushes over him, draining away his bestial behemoth-king status and dragging him back down to the still over-swole but less gigantic standard visage. The extensions to his mane like hair seem to burn away, strands drifting into nothingness while the power that redressed him reforms his more standard clothing back to their tattored looks. Buford's swing comes just as this deflation occurs and the lesser giant brings his arms up in an attempt to deflect - but the strike ...messy though it is..lands true and scores a visible gash across a massive forearm.

Forcing himself through the pain, he lunges forward and lashes out with clawed hands to try and grab hold of Buford, roughly reaching for him and attempting to bring him in close with crushing strength despite the pounding in his head from both his injuries and the pressure from having called upon his power.

"I didn't mean it that way you idiot!" he bellows despite the two being potentially so....close..

"I mean I can respect a guy that sticks to his 'bit' even though it's awful and off putting and just plain cringey. Yer committed no matter who it turns off! And yer not a bad fighter on top of that."

He spins, trying to trip Buford up to get him off his feet, crushing arms wrapped about him to attempt to then slam him down towards the oil stained and debris scattered ground of the scrap yard.

"I aint tryin' tp pick our curtains or somethin!"

COMBATSYS: Buford fails to interrupt Fast Throw from Braun with Dewy On The Mist EX.

[                      \\\\\\\\  < >  ///////                       ]
Buford           0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0            Braun

[BUFORD]
The truth is, when a hairy German beastman flexes out some baby sized biceps and 'implies' you are a good boy, it can be hard for any budding Samurai's purity.

Buford's slapping strike lands true, but does nothing to stop Braun. No, instead, the german throws himself at the innocent Alberta lad. Squealing, he begins to spin, ready to twirl and spiral up with his blade, to slice into Braun three times. But his head was too scrambled, his thoughts too flooded. And what's worse, Braun was acting -just- like some of his Hitscord roleplays, and to be honest, he wasn't necessarily the strong and assertive man like he was in public, to say politely. As he says 'I didn't it mean it that way idiot', Buford immediately hears it just like the truest of tsunderes.

'It's not like that all, b-baka'

"Uguuu~" Buford burbles out as he is seized and slammed down into a pool of oil. Writhing around in it, he almost flails like a turtle on its shell, struggling to get up. "A guy who sticks to... sticks to his bit?!" Buford crosses his legs, bringing his sword to protect his pants. "P-picking curtains? Please! I was supposed to be with Kenzo! He was my rival... except... he hasn't been really showing me the respect I deserve..." Buford looks up at Braun, his eyes starry, his face blushing red, and an awful lot of sweat and oil on him.

"Maybe there's nothing wrong with having a bit of a bad boy rival on the side for Metro City..."

[BRAUN]
He doesn't know how to get out of this trap. He simply doesn't have the skills. A smarter person would disengage and focus on shutting Buford up. A more savvy person would turn the table and flip the script but Braun lacks such techniques. Such finesse. All he's got is confusion and burning anger and growing embaressement. Not the greatest combo here and subconsciously he realizes he's got nobody to blame but himself.

And the cameras.. Oh the cameras..catching every bit and hearing it all. They're going to have a field day with this one despite who walks away the victor.

"Uuuuugh.. he sneers. A long rumbling groaning bestial sigh at his unfortunante circumstances.

"I aint ready to pick a rival yet 'chum'. That takes a bit o'care and soul searchin' but I tell ya what...."

He leaps back again, energized from having landed the throw and chi once more burning violently onto him. His voice deepens as his battle-form rears its massive body again, looming larger and larger as he blasts at Buford. A shell fired from a battleship and dragging one massive arm behind him as he lunges forward violently.

"Let's see if you're worth bein' put on the list!"

Once close enough he swings, bringing his arm around and dragging with it a huge blast of chi as another area shaking roar bellows out. The very air shreds as his clawed hand sweeps in at Buford with incredible force and the energy wave behind it follows up in a wide arcing blast following the trajectory of his tree trunk of an arm.

COMBATSYS: Braun successfully hits Buford with Raging Thunder Roar.

[                             \  < >  //////                        ]
Buford           1/------=/=======|====---\-------\0            Braun

[BUFORD]
Buford was almost as befuddled as Braun was.

Struggling into a stand, he grips his head. "S-sir, you are clearly trying to get into my head." Was Buford justifying it to Braun, or himself. "A Samurai of my stature and character, is -pure- as the unsoiled, well, you know. Those things that maidens keep!Though I suppose it wouldn't be considered unfaithful if it was-"

Buford is cut off, as Braun blasts himself right into the ronin.

The brawler pours on the shockwave, and Buford... cannot cut it. He is blasted away, slamming viciously into the ice cream truck. He lies there, slumped over, fedora at his side. That obviously must be it. And yet, he lifts his hairy chin up, his jowls raised up. Bloodied, bruised. But smirking.

"Oh, I have to earn my way on your list, do I?"

Buford staggers to a stand. He brings his vibrating hilt to his shoulder, massaging himself as he steadies out. "Not ready yet... perhaps for all your bluster, you are more new to this than I am! It's quite alright though, for I consider a lack of experience to be just as appealing! But if I must prove myself, then my self, I will prove!" With that, he sticks the vibrating hilt into his mouth. Lips quivering, and most flooding around him, he springs. Bloodied and broken, Buford hurls himself desperately at Braun, throwing a one forward as he practically shuffle slides his way at Braun when-

COMBATSYS: Buford can no longer fight. Is this the end of lovable Buford?

[                        \\\\\\  <
Braun            0/-------/---====|

COMBATSYS: Buford successfully hits Braun with Musarama Wrath.

[                                <
Braun            1/------=/=======|

And it goes dark, as the mist floods all around Braun.

Churning black fog rolls around, bringing the hot and heavy scent of well aged roast beef and peppery horseradish with it. Buford's shape dances in the shadows, before he begins to dart out in a blur. Flashes of his vibrating blade lashing out slowly at first, and then faster and faster. A final blur of cuts erupt as he gives a single finishing slash, destroying the French Dipped cloud, as two crude katakana characters hang on his back, forming the Japanese word for 'Rose' as clear as day.

Right before Buford let's out a moan, and collapses face first into Braun, utterly knocked out, arms instinctively falling into the same embracing reaction one might have with a 7 foot tall body pillow.

[BRAUN]
"Hnngh!"

The very tail end of the swipe seems to rip the last of his energies from him, violently shearing away his monster-form in a torrent of red lightning which nearly drags his reduced frame along with it and drops him towards a crouched stance.

"Ugh..finally. This sponsor trainin' better be.."

Buford begins speaking.

"What the hell! Lay down, man!"

Braun twists, turning just in time to see Buford lunging at him with all-none of the grace-of a true warrior.

It's so telegaphed and ridiculous looking that he -should- be avoid to avoid it. He tries to avoid it. But he's too spent. Too over extended and as he brings attempts to bring his arms up, it's too late. The slash crashes into him with the rest of Buford's body in a violent spray of blood and Braun goes stumbling backwards.

"Urggh...dammit!"

He's lifted off of his feet but manages to avoid a full on tumble.. only to now be serving as the perfect cushion for Buford whose weight bears them both down to the ground. He's flattened and then stunned, arms sprawled out above his head and eyes rolled back upward.

A perfect finish.

COMBATSYS: Braun takes no action.


COMBATSYS: Braun can no longer fight.

Log created on 13:35:37 09/07/2023 by Buford, and last modified on 04:22:58 09/13/2023.