NFG Season Two - Odyssey R2 - Get Out Of My Garden!

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Description: After a night of drink and debauchery, Menelausley is looking for a place to sleep and stumbles upon Proteus' resting place in the gardens of Ras El-Tin Palace. He slips into a steady slumber until Proteus appears in his many forms to try and eject the inebriated intruder from his lair.

When Hawksley Moore found out that his match was going to be held on Saint Patrick's Day he wasn't a happy fella. "What the feck? That's valuable drinking time wasted." He'd moaned and groaned to his agent, Frank.

"Not necessarily." The older man had explained. "Your whole part for this round is playing a drunken interloper who shows up and disturbs Proteus in his resting place. Oh and Proteus is going to be played by Mister Finley."

This news had been greeted grandly by the Irishman. Not only did he not have to hold back on his absorption of alcohol, it was actually helpful to him getting into character. He'd be able to have a good old drunken brawl and who better to have that with than his buddy, Buck?

When he'd departed The Mermaid Cruise Ship this morning, Hawksley had been dressed as the man he was portraying, a Greek King by the name of Menelaus. His costume consisted of a rather beautiful set of blue and gold armour, including one of those helmets with the furry bits on the top, a rich red cloak, a dark wig of long flowing locks and a fake brown beard.

Somewhere along the journey he's managed to lose almost every bit of it and is now dressed in nothing but a pair of lightweight black cloth pants and a pair of black leather cowboy boots with red flames up the sides. These definitely didn't go with the rest of the costume but the Irishman insisted on wearing them. He's also somehow kept hold of the rather fancy bottle of Absinthe that fellow fighter, Genie had gifted him for his recent birthday. Concerningly, around two thirds of the contents have already been consumed.

The old-fashioned fishing boat Hawksley is currently travelling towards the shore on has seen better days, which also goes for its owner, whose age the boxer would estimate at somewhere close to a hundred. When he sees the lad looking his way, he greets him with a toothless grin and broken English, which Hawksley is just about sober enough to translate as "We are nearly there."

As the two men approach Ras El-Tin Palace from the Mediterranean Sea, just as the sun is setting, the sight is spectacular. The building is one of great beauty and in this light it almost seems luminous. Hawksley knows he won't be setting foot inside its hallowed halls. As one of the official residences of Egypt's President, its strictly out of bounds to commoners like himself. The gardens however are open to the public to visit and its them that will be serving as the setting for this evening's match.

Once on land, the Irish lad thanks the fishmerman with a boozy smile and a pat on the back. He presumes he's being paid for his trouble by the NFG. Staggering a bit as he takes his first few steps in the direction of the gardens, he pauses briefly to wave back at the old-timer and then focuses on facing forwards and finding his way to the fight.

The gardens are formal in layout and feature an abundance of fig trees, giving the air a fresh and sweet scent. In the early evening pinkish glow, everything seems somewhat surreal and dreamy or perhaps thats the numerous pints of Guinness, mixed with Jamesons and Absinthe that Hawksley has had today. He wanders amongst the pretty flowers and plants until he stumbles upon a fountain in the centre of them all.

"Well would you look at that. They've only gone and got mermaids here as well. I wonder if they built this just for us." What he speaks of are the statues of sixteen sirens, each holding a fish, that decorate the fountain. They're striking to see and it's not too surpising that the lad wants to get a closer look at them. As the brawler bends over to run his hand under the water, he falls into the fountain with an almighty splash that will surely stir even the deepest of sleepers. "Ah feck!" He bawls out before slipping under the water and becoming well and truly soaked.

Sleeping is exactly what Buck's character is supposed to be doing, and what Buck himself is doing. The man doesn't know how to pass up a good nap amongst nature, even cultivated nature.

There was some disagreement with the costume department earlier, so he's 'dressed' for the part in what equates to a white sarong over a pair of blue board shorts that last were worn in combat with Hawksley on a beach. He was also shirtless then, too. This is becoming a theme.

He had laid down on the side of the fountain opposite from where Hawksley entered to wait for the Irishman and promptly fell asleep. At least he remembered his sunscreen, probably thanks to Chevy.

As the water splashes away from Hawksley's unintentional impromptu swimming it splashes up over the edge of the fountain and over Buck.

Most might wake up at the annoyance, but Buck being being he mutters something about, "Five mi...." And then he's back to his dozing. At least until his brain catches up.

He opens up one eye and peers around, noting the sunset hue of the sky and the fact he's damp despite the desert heat. "Aw, c'mon! Who splashed me? Coulda just woken me up normal like, first." Not that it would have worked.

Until he turns his head just enough to see his buddy and opponent. "Aw, heck. That's right.. fight.." With a yawn he sits up and shakes his head, sending water splashing outwards from his dampened hair. "You okay there, Hawks?"

"Ah, I'll be grand." Hawksley claims, as he emerges from the fountain dripping wet and shakes himself off like an enthusiastic puppy, probably getting Buck more drenched in the process. The Irishman's dark brown hair seems black now it's wet and is slicked back from the tanned skin of his handsome face. As he tries to focus his eyes on his friend, he has to blink several times to do so.

"So the story is..." He starts to slur. "You're supposed to be mad at me for waking you up. So mad you wanna feck me up or something. So, you know, we can go with that or we can just have a brawl. Whatever takes your fancy really."

He takes off his boots, a brilliant birthday gift from Buck, before tipping the water out and then putting them back on again.

Not that Buck seems to mind being wet, it's better in the Egyptian heat, though less desireably as the night time cold is just around the corner. Still, it's getting into that golden time between day and night where the desert temperatures should be just perfect.

"And you're drunk." Buck states with a grin as he gives Hawksley and up and down. There's no accusation, he's just saying what he observes. "Well, we better make the higher ups a little happy."

Stretching his arms over his head he gets to his feet and turns towards the Cork brawler. "Grr.. you woke me up, now I'm gonna kick your butt. That good?" All delivered with his characteristic smile and cheery tone. You really think a shapeshifter would be a better actor.

He staps a bit away from the fountain into a clearing in the garden big enough for a good brawl. Afterall, he doesn't want to be in the news for ruining a national landmark.

Stifling another yawn he crosses his arms over his chest and waits for Hawksley, nodding that he's good and ready to go and drops into his usual brawling stance only once his opponent decides to join him.

COMBATSYS: Buck has started a fight here.

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Buck             0/-------/------=|

"I'm just a little tiny bit scuttered." Hawksley says, trying to hold his thumb and forefinger together but somehow missing the mark. "It's Saint Patrick's Day though. It's my patriotic duty. Would you be joining me in a drink now?"

He holds out what's left of the Absinthe to Buck, should he choose to partake in the intoxicating green liquid. "I'm thinking of asking for my money back though (Genie's money) because I've not seen any sign of no green fairies."

When the American steps into character, the Cork lad can't keep a straight face. "You're so fecking scary, fella." He says, trying to sound serious. "What an eejit I was to come and break into these gardens. I'm sure to be in trouble now, so I am." Hawksley's Menelaus impression is a little lacklustre but at least the thought is there.

Following Buck's lead, he steps away from the fountain, wagging his finger at it as if warning it not to mess with him again. "What you looking at, cailin?" He questions one of the silent sirens and then turns his focus back to his friend. "I reckon you should take the first shot since you've caught me intruding and all. I probably deserve to be punished for my wicked ways."

COMBATSYS: Hawksley has joined the fight here.

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Hawksley         0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0             Buck

"It is?" Buck queries at the mention of St. Patrick's day, tilting his head to the side. "Huh.. might as well." He takes the bottle of absinthe when offered and takes a swig, handing it back as he squints and shakes his head. "I like your usual whiskey better."

He throws his head back with a guffaw. "Maybe a few punches will get the little green feck.. fellas to show up." Damn, Hawksley is rubbing off on him, and he actually looks embarassed by his near foul mouthed slip. "Sorry, ma." He mumbles under his breath with a glance towards the camera crew. He's getting a phone call later.

At the offer to take the first shot, Buck shrugs. "Well, if'n you want." He reaches up to grab his nonexistant hat intending to toss it to a safe spot, frowning as he looks around for it only to spot it up on a tree branch with a snap and point. "Right.. Okay, fight."

Then he spins on his foot, quick as he can manage and bumrushes Hawksley, whether the man is ready or not, or perhaps distracteed by Buck pointing out his hat up a tree. Maybe it was a clever ploy? Probably not. He instead comes in, full steam and simply tries to clock the Corker right in the jaw with his fist. He may consider him one of his best friends, but a brawl is a brawl, and there's no holding back from Buck.

COMBATSYS: Hawksley blocks Buck's Aggressive Strike.

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Hawksley         0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0             Buck

"That usual whiskey you had costs thousands a sip." Hawksley laughs loudly. "You have expensive taste, fella. I've got you hooked on the good stuff now." He inspects the bottle of Absinthe as it's handed back to him. "Although, saying that, I looked this stuff up online and it's not cheap, so it isn't. We're surrounded by rich girls, so we are." Or at least by three in Coco, Genie and Iris.

The Irishman's dark eyes flash with delight as he realises Buck was about to curse. "Go on, you can do it." He teases. "You're a long way from home, so your mammy can't spank you." His own mammy has long since given up on him keeping it clean but since he probably picked his cursing up from his da, it's Liam Moore that's more likely to get the blame for the lad's language.

Hawksley does give a quick glance up to the tree in search of the cowboy hat but he's been in enough bar fights to know you've got to keep your wits about you. When the fist comes flying at him, he's kinda ready. Buck's hand does connect with his jaw, certainly enough to add to the Cork fella's collection of bruises but the punch is prevented from reaching its full power by the Irishman tightening his neck muscles and pressing his tongue up against the roof of his mouth. It's an old trick his da taught him years ago and one that's saved him from a shattered jawbone on many an occasion.

"So you're after some whiskey are you?" Hawksley questions Buck, bringing his hand down to reach into the pocket of the black pants he's wearing. A brief look of panic crosses his face as his hand returns empty. "Hold that thought!" He yells, backing up and reaching a hand into the fountain, causing the clear water to ripple. After fishing his fingers around for a few seconds, he raises his hand in victory, holding up his familiar silver hip flask. "Got it!" He grins, before taking off the lid and having a long swig. As he spits the amber liquid in Buck's direction, he uses his inner fire to ignite it, sending flames flying towards his friend's face!

COMBATSYS: Hawksley successfully hits Buck with Hedonism.

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Hawksley         0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0             Buck

"Yeah, it ain't spankin' I'm worried about. She won't send the brownies." Buck mutters, and the other man has had those brownies, so it's at least a relateable problem. He gives his fist a little shake, after the jaw blow. It's a good wway to break your hand too, but Buck knows how to throw his punches.

He initially braces himself against the attack he thinks is coming, only for the heat not to arrive. He quizzically looks over his guard only to see Hawksley fishing about in the fountain. "Really?" He asks, still in good humor as he rushes in again, expecting a free shot only to get the delayed face full of flames. "Aw heck, I think some got in my eye."

He's got one eye squinting as the flames clear. Twisting to the side, he grabs the edge of the fountain, pulling his legs up off the ground and into his chest.

His legs bared to the knee, it's easy to see his feet twisting into the pair of hooves he intends to slam right into Hawksley with a donkey like kick aimed at his center, even as he plunks his head right into the water of the fountain.

Probably to wash out his eye. Maybe..

COMBATSYS: Hawksley blocks Buck's Hoofing It.

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Hawksley         0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0             Buck

"Oh no, not the brownies." Hawksley's look of horror is genuine. He has indeed tasted these sensational sweet treats baked by Mrs Finley and that would be as bad as him never getting to have his mammy's stew again. "You best behave then." He nods solemnly.

Not that he's ever been one for behaving himself, as evidenced by the fact he's just breathed fire into his friend's face. "Did I get you in the eye?" He asks, his concern seeming genuine. The Irishman is about to move closer to inspect the damage for the cowboy but then he sees the hooves heading his way.

"Ah, feck!" He cries out, as one of the donkey feet connects. Thankfully for the Irish lad, despite his drinking habit, he somehow has a solid core to take the strain.

"What are you doing down there?" He questions as Buck ducks under the surface of water. "Will you be washing out your eye now?"

Before the other fella can give an answer, Hawksley has moved up behind him with the intention of pulling him up and around to face him. Should he succeed, he will deliver a left-handed jab, followed by a fast right cross to try and break open Buck's guard. His intent is to throw him off-balance, before grabbing his shoulders and pulling him face-first into his rising right knee.

COMBATSYS: Buck fails to interrupt Buzzkill ES from Hawksley with Spit Take ES.

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Hawksley         0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1             Buck

Well, yes, he's washing out his eye, but Buck has been known to stick his head in water for other reasons, too. And when he gets pulled up his cheeks are puffed out with a mouthful. But before he can get his usual spitting trick into motion, Hawksley manages to nail him.

He tries to hold on to his liquid projectile, but instead he ends up spitting across the paving stones with a cough.

Blow two has him gasp in, and the knee to the chest sends him stumbling back. "Aw hell, dude. You're worse to fight drunk." He mutters, rubbing at where he got nailed in the chest. He doesn't even seem to realize he dropped one of his taboo words, on recorded video no less. Poor guy. He takes a moment to recenter himself, pushing his dripping wet hair out of his face and letting his jovial mask slip into something more serious as he turns to fac Hawksley again.

It's true that Hawksley fights dirtier when he's drunk. To be fair, the brawler is always a little buzzed but this is probably the most wasted he's been in Buck's company to date. Despite the damage he's doling out to the Oklahoma man, his actions aren't without affection. Fighting for him, in almost every circumstance, isn't fueled by hate. On this occasion it just helps him to strengthen the brotherly bond further.

"Don't think I don't know what you were up to." He says with a wink and a rub to the back to try and calm the coughing. When Buck looks back at him with his game face on, he gives a nod of the head. Alright, it's time to go again.

Hawksley makes a grab for Buck, fixing to force him into a headlock. If he can, then the American is at risk of being punched in the head repeatedley until he can break free of the hold.

COMBATSYS: Buck blocks Hawksley's Submission ES.

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Hawksley         0/-------/-======|=======\=------\1             Buck

"Can't blame a man for tryin'." Buck mutters as he wipes his mouth on his forearm. "Also, I think that fountain water ain't clean." He sticks out his tongue and shakes his head. "But you're buyin' me a drink back on the boat for that one." He declares.

Buck doesn't struggle to much against the grab, he's watched enough of the Irish brawler's fights to expect it. But his grin returns after a moment. "Careful gettin' too close to a buck." He says and as the punch land on his head it meets sprouting bone rather than his skull bone.

Antlers quickly sprout from Buck's head enough to make trying to punch his skull a prospect that might end up with a stag point through the arm.

And at this range, all Buck needs to do is thrash his head about, trying to nail Hawksley with the antlers any which way, spikes in all directions and he's not shy about flailing. He whips his head back and forth as he tries to shove Hawksley off of him. "Save the huggin' for later, will ya'?"

Sixteen sirens had been decorating the fountain, but there's a flesh-in-blood siren waiting by the fig trees. With Hawksley and Buck sharing a fight card, Chevelle wouldn't have missed this fight for the world.

The redhead had considered costuming herself as one of the statues to surprise the guys, but... after a brief moment to think about that, she realized that *might* be a bit much.

Besides. She wasn't crazy about the idea of applying that much gray paint to her skin. She's dressed in a loose white dress, similar to the fashion of the time, with a pair of airy sandals.

So, instead -- she'd arrived a little while after Buck had taken his nap, and decided to idle beside one of the fig trees with her phone to keep her company.

Her eyes light up as Hawksley arrives -- not -just- for his arrival, of course, but at the prospect of a fight! She throws up a fist as the fight begins -- but mostly keeps to herself until Buck shows his antlers. Once he does -- she can't keep from blurting out just a little bit...

"Yeah! There you go!"

She -hopes- it wasn't so loud as to interrupt the fighters. One hand clasps to her mouth -- the other clasps to the antler necklace she'd recieved from Buck as a gift.

COMBATSYS: Hawksley blocks Buck's Bullheaded.

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Hawksley         0/-------/=======|=======\==-----\1             Buck

"God loves a trier or so I'm told." The lapsed Catholic lad states. "As for the fountain water, probably not but with the stuff I've swigged over the years I'm likely immune. I'll buy you all the drinks you want on The Mermaid though, especially since the en eff gee are paying for them on expenses."

Buck handles his grapple with ease, which is not too surprising, given his background of growing up with boisterous brothers. As Hawksley receives the warning, he has a feeling what's about to come. True enough, his rough hand finds the animal antlers of the American's namesake.

Given the amount of booze in his bloodstream or perhaps because of the familiar sound of his favourite redhead's voice, Hawksley's reaction in pulling away is delayed, meaning he ends up with an angry gash on his forearm. Gritting his teeth, he steps back to safety, wanting nothing more to do with the wild weapon.

"How about a group hug?" He suggests, waving over at Chevy. "Don't be shy now, cailin. If you wanna come and support your fella, feel free to do so."

No sooner are the words out of his mouth than Hawksley is picking up the bottle of Absinthe and taking a swing at Buck's skull with it. Sure, it's a waste of good booze but perhaps he can help his friend see a green fairy. Now wouldn't that be grand?

COMBATSYS: Buck blocks Hawksley's Light Random Weapon.

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Hawksley         1/-------/=======|=======\===----\1             Buck

Buck doesn't even look in Chevy's direction, but he shoots a thumbs up at her as she calls out. The antlers? Well, they stay in place for now. It at least helps to protect his skull a little. "That's cheatin' puttin' it on the corporate card." He retorts with a shake of his head, a little unbalanced from the extra weight his skull is dragging around.

"Woah! Woah!!" Buck calls out as the bottle comes swinging at him. He brings up his arm in time to clash against Hawksly's forearm rather than taking the bottle to the face. "Don't waste it." He bemoans, with the tone only someone usually underage who has to work for his booze can manage.

He tries to grab the sloshing bottle from Hawksley with his hand, rescuing in th booze.

Of course he's also bringing up his knee aiming for the Irishman's gut to get him to back off, and maybe release the bottle into Buck's loving care.

Sure he said he wasn't a fan, but free booze is free booze.

COMBATSYS: Hawksley interrupts Medium Kick from Buck with Numbskull.

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Hawksley         1/-------/=======|=======\=====--\1             Buck

As Chevy is called out, she answers quickly: "Don't you fret none! I'm just a lil' fly on the wall. Y'all keep it up!"

Of course, that won't stop her from taking out her phone so she can make a POV video of the fight itself...

"Well when you come and see me in Ireland, I'll buy you all the booze you want, fella. I can't help it if they're wanting to spoil us by giving us a free tab now, can I?" Hawksley protests.

Buck blocks the bottle and the Irishman looks him directly in the eyes, clearly impressed. "You saved it." He praises, a slow smile appearing on his face. "Just for that you can keep it as a gift. Just don't tell Genie, because she might think I'm ungrateful or something. He must be forgetting that this whole fight is being filmed.

As the knee comes up to get him in the gut, Hawksley catches it between his hands and pushes it away from his body. Whilst Buck is distracted by this, he grabs hold of the bigger fella's arms and holds them in place, leaving him with no defence against his fierce forehead as he smashes it into his face over and over.

But what is to become of the bottle of Absinthe? It goes flying through the air and lands at Chevy's feet.

Buck takes the skull to the face like a champ, even if his nose might break from one of those strikes, he'll just pop it back into place later and let his freakishly quick healing do its thing. Though its having trouble keeping up in this brawl.

Buck grinning at Hawksley through the blood streaming down his face is not a pleasant sight. Especially since there's a bit of a feral edge to the grin that Buck gets when he's really on the ropes.

"Eyessss!" He hollars, not for his benefit, or Hawksley's. No its a call out for Chevy, a promise incase she was about to see something she wasn't going to like. And the way he hisses that sibilant S might give some sort of clue. Especially as his bloodied face seems to crack open along the jaw, displaying teeth dripping noxious green venom.

Two more hisses join the first as more serpentine heads rise up over Buck on the end of sinuous necks, fanged maws open.

It's a celebration of Greek myth after all, it'd be a shame of the hydra didn't make at least a cursory appearance. Even if the sight is probably downright unnerving and a little horrifying for those witnessing it. One would think.

Then quick as the serpents they resemble all three maws lash out, snapping and gnashing in an attempt to sink those venom soaked fangs right into Hawksley.

COMBATSYS: Hawksley just-defends Buck's #Ultimate Hydration ES#!

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Hawksley         1/-------/=======|-------\-------\0             Buck

The sound of breaking bone is one that Hawksley has heard so many times. It still gives him a small thrill and when it's followed by the flow of blood, he's a happy chap indeed. To him the sight of Buck's bleeding face is a beautiful one but then he's a brutal beast, one who wears his bruises and scars like badges.

There is a turning point however, where the American man moves from being a hurting human to a potentially dangerous predator. The shift seems subtle at first but it's there nonetheless and when Buck calls out his warning to Chevy, the hissing sound is heard.

"You're seriously coming at me with snakes on Saint Patrick's Day?" The Cork lad chortles. "You know what he did with them, don't you?"

Whether Buck knows his Irish history or not, Hawksley is having none of it from the multi-headed serpent. The venom dripping from the shape-shifter's mouths may be green but it's not grand with the Eire man. He calls out to the creatures. "Feck off, will you!" Strangely, somehow they seem to listen without landing their lethal liquid. Well, it's either that or the fact he's just set his hands ablaze and is holding them in front of himself.

Deciding he doesn't wanna risk getting too close to Buck's upper body, Hawksley kicks out with one of his cowboy boots, aiming to strike the younger lad in the knee and send him sprawling.

COMBATSYS: Buck fails to interrupt Improvised Kick from Hawksley with Wingman.

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Hawksley         1/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0             Buck

Buck frowns as the hydra heads just kind of halt in their path towards Hawksley, making the Oklahoman frown with his own monsterous maw. "Really guys? I don't ask much you know. Fine!"

In perhaps the oddest twisting to date from buck, the two extrs snake heads sprouting from his back seems to just twist and explodes with feathers into a pair of wings. From devil to angel just like that.

HE flaps hard, trying to twist free of Hawksley, but just can't seem to manage once again.

At least until Hawksley manages to nail him with the kick that sends him sliding away on the wet paving stones a few feet, before he snaps the wings wide to stop himself.

"Drunk and Irish, god must have a soft spot for you today." Buck mutters rubbing at his chest, where another bruise piles on for him to sleep off later. "We should have done this tomorrow, where you'd be hung over." He teases, rolling his shoulders. He's getting that look in his eye. The one that says his engine is starting to run down. His tricks take a lot out of him, even his stomach lets out a grumble in response. "Cheeseburgers later." He mutters to himself.

"I cain't believe y'all're worried about booze at a time like this..."

The truth is, Chevy -can- believe it. But that doesn't stop her from teasing the two. As the bottle of absinthe flies over towards her, she sidesteps out of its path -- only to find that it lands upright and she doesn't have to catch it. ... The waterbender wonders if she'd had any subtle, subconscious influence over that.

"... Okay, yeah, that's the hi-test stuff. I'm leavin' that for y'all..."

Even with that ... Chevy had been so focused upon taking the best action shot that she could, that she doesn't even catch on to the sibilant lisp at the end of Buck's statement. But once she sees the color shift start to take place, everything snaps into place. She slaps her free hand over her eyes, with a grimace! While she manages to keep the action -mostly- in frame somehow, the mic might catch her grunt of disapproval. Any witness to NFG drama would know the rural North Carolinian is a huge fan of both Buck and Hawksley, but if they weren't aware of her distaste for snakes, it might be a bit more clear now.

The sound of more impacts is one sign that it's safe for the hayseed to watch again. Though, now she grows pale for different reasons -- the sound of breaking bone, and the sight of blood. Even though she knows Buck can heal faster than most, it's still... a little worrying!

Chevy wraps her hand around her necklace, drawing in her breath.

There's lots of things she -could- say.
But she keeps it short and sweet:
"Keep at it, Buck! I believe in you!"

As scales become feathers, Hawksley can't help but stare. "No wonder they cast you as this Proteus fella." He marvels. "It must be fecking mad to be able to change into all kinds of shite."

The Irishman's kick lands on his buddy, perhaps made even more cruel by the fact it was delivered via the birthday boots that Buck had bought him. As the shapeshifter is sent sliding, the wings save him from slipping further. "God may think I'm a lovely lad but the angels are watching over you." He quips.

Nodding in enthusiastic agreement at the suggestion of cheeseburgers he adds. "And some Guinness to wash them down with." Apparently he still has a thirst for more booze. He'll probably fetch that Abinsthe back off Chevy later too.

Hawksley can see that Buck is tiring somewhat but like Chevy he believes in his friend and knows he will keep on fighting till the very end. As such he can't afford to let up his assault. Dashing forwards, he twists into a left snap elbow to try and send Buck off-balance. If he manages, he will then pivot into a devastating right-handed haymaker toward the American man's centre of mass, intending to knock him backwards.

COMBATSYS: Buck blocks Hawksley's Detonator.

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Hawksley         1/-----==/=======|===----\-------\0             Buck

"It's a rush." He replies, flicking the wings once before they simply seems to sink back into him, his brow unfurrowing as he stops concentrating on maintain the shape.

"Only one angel." Buck replis, his eyes darting in Chevy's direction in a quick motion that's easy to miss. He grins but he's struggling to keep his feet as he shifts his stance ready for Hawksley to come at him again.

And come he does. He doesn't expect his fellow brawler to let up, he wouldn't if their positions were reversed.

He pulls himself together just in time to bring up his hand to take the brunt of the elbow strike, keeping his bruised core just a little safer.

Then in a echo of how their fight began he swings with his other fist, once more going right for the Irishman's jaw with his fist.

Though as he swings, the skin of his arm hardens into a glistening black carapace that seems slightly iridescent in the setting sun. Shiny, and spiky, as spines and ridges reinforce his fist for the hopefully incoming impact of fist to face.

COMBATSYS: Hawksley interrupts Shell Game from Buck with Shining Light.

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Hawksley         0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1             Buck

Hawksley has been around the block a bit. He is pretty sure to whom Buck refers. His expression softens into a smile with the romance of it all but now is not the time for love. It's the time for violence.

As the Eire man's elbow is fended off by his opponent's swift hand, he starts dancing from one foot to the other with steps reminiscent of those taught to him by his boxer father, back when he was a kid. When the fist comes in, it's a fierce looking thing and something he definitely doesn't want to get hit with.

Using the momentum he's built up from his movement, Hawksley is fast to react. He ducks down as his fists once again flame with fire. From this crouched position he pushes up high into the air, launching an uppercut punch straight at Buck's jaw.

Buck growls under his breath as Hawksley begins dancing around. And it's not a growl of annoyance, its and honest to God actual growl.

He bulks up suddenly, which helps keep him on the ground from taking the uppercut clean to the jaw. But he's running on pure adrenaline now and instinct is taking over as it tends to do in the last few moments of his fight.

HE brings up both arms, both nearly twice their normal size and fovered in a shaggy black pelt with massive paws ending in wickedly sharp claws.

His ability to pass through shapes one into another is so different from the last time he faced Hawksley. It's more smooth, less of a jerky mess of one thing than another. Not that it seemed to help him in this instance.

With a massive roar he brings those twin arms down in a massive hammering blow.

Hitting or not he stumbles a few steps back after his attack and falls right on his back, head angled so he can get a good look at Chevy.

He grins. "Hey, angel lady, you have my cheeseburger?" Which he slurs a little despite not being drunk, well, alcohol drunk. Punch drunk is another matter.

Then without even waiting for an answer, his eyes slide shut and he starts snoring away, resuming the nap that Hawksley so rudely woke him from.

COMBATSYS: Buck can no longer fight.

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Hawksley         0/-------/----===|

COMBATSYS: Hawksley blocks Buck's Bear Arms.

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Hawksley         0/-------/---====|

Hawksley has noticed the difference since the two fellas last faced off in their brawl on the beach. He can tell that his friend is more comfortable with the transitions and has tightened up his fighting in general. He may have took a bit of a beating today, but beware a drunken Irish man in a match on March 17th.

And what's this now? Buck has only gone and turned himself into a bear! "Would you look at that?" The Cork lad grins with glee. He's half expecting and kinda hoping for a bear hug from those hairy arms. When he notices the claws that come with the package though, he's less keen. It was bad enough when his ex, Tiffany caught him with one of her nail extensions and he's pretty sure this creature could cause him a lot more pain.

When Buck roars, Hawksley echoes him, though his efforts are less impressive, being those of a mere man. As the arms come down to bash him, the Irish brawler brings up his arms to protect his face, instead leaving his shoulder to take a hell of a smack. "Jesus. You hit like...well, a bloody bear I suppose."

He looks back at Buck to see what is coming next but his fellow fighter is on a downward decline, stopping only to send his food request his girlfriend's way.

"Rest well, fella." Hawksley tells him, bending down to ruffle Buck's hair playfully. "It was a pleasure and a privilege as always."

He heads over to join Chevy from the spot she's spectating from. "Make that two cheeseburgers will you, cailin."

Bending down he picks up the bottle of Absinthe from the floor and takes a long drink. "I'm sure he'll be grand after the first aid team have checked him over and you've given him some tender loving care."

If Chevy were sitting down, she'd have been on the edge of her seat. Since she's not, she's been antsy and hopping from one foot to the other at how the fight was going. The hayseed hadn't been even half as nervous during the brawlers' last fight -- but, suffice to say, things were -much- different, then.

Of course, the fact that both fighters are calling her out is enough to bring a blush to her cheeks. Somehow, she manages to keep from being an even bigger disruption to the fight, right up until Buck angles his heart-shaped eyes back her way.

The hayseed flashes a warm smile to him -- knowing full well how he tends to get a bit drowsy after his shapeshifting exhibitions. "Sure. It'll be here afore ya know it," she answers.

Of course, that just means: time to figure out a local place that delivers, and make an order! Once Buck's eyes close, her thumbs start prodding her way through her phone interface.

As Hawksley walks up to reclaim his absinthe, she seems to have -juuust- been ready to hit send on that order -- but she nods with a smile, going back to adjust the order. "Will do!" She smiles, sparing a glance over to Buck and the medics that are already racing to check him out.

"I think y'all'll like this restaurant. It's supposed to have the best burgers in the whole city." She grins back to Hawksley. "It's called 'Blaze.'"

Log created on 11:59:33 03/17/2024 by Hawksley, and last modified on 14:14:40 03/18/2024.