Description: A posh little scruffle in uptown, Metro City, pits the Royal Brute against Domino. While the Royal Brute proves to be quite the brute indeed, Domino's display of grace, finesse, and.. erm.. brute force earns a victory for the Shooting Stars' leader. But even the Total Eclipse wasn't enough to completely ground Preston. Crikey. (Winner: Drake)
Uptown girls aren't the order of the day, but there are destined to be quite the gaggle in the audience for the evening spectacle. Set within the lush surrounds of the uptown district, more accurately in the lavish and rather spacious arena setup within what is simply the most divine boutique within Metro City, there's definitely a sense of... pomp in the air. It's been billed as a fight between a star out of luck and a relative newcomer to the Neo League Circuit, but that means very little to the majority of the audience. With opera binoculars and fluffy, expensive coats in attendance, the fight itself, to the upperclass, seems more like a fashion show between two contrasting individuals.
Take for instance, what they've rather kindly labelled the Royal Brute. Not that he's actually royalty by any stress, but amidst the social elite there are certain facts which are leaked. Like the fact that Preston Alistair Wellington the II, standing over there on one side of the roped off area, is the son of a Duke of England. It's not a fact he likes being spread about, and he hears whispers as those in attendance, who are usually better suited to much more refined spectacles, stare at his rather barechested form. In fact, he almost looks the part of the brute, wearing nothing but a pair of slacks upon his legs. It leaves his bulk clear, and under the shine of fashion lights, he positively glistens.
Weary eyes watch, almost like a caged beast waiting to be unleashed. Shifting his grip on the massive oar that's always with him, he keeps it slanted across his broad shoulders as he considers his options. He could just crush most of the crowd now, and put aside one growing headache for another later. Then again, he's not entirely sure this Masters guy will put his legal team to work to keep him out of jail.
Not precisely where he wants to spend the night. "Let's get this thing started," he grouses, voice a gravel growl as his impatience shows. Again that grip shifts, as he watches the technicians working on the sidelines, away from the waiting cameras. Why they're fighting on a modified catwalk is beyond him, but he's down one end of it anyway, wearing what is positively last season's pants. If he's any judge of progress, then he'd say the fight should begin shortly, with final preparations nearly complete...
A smirk slides his features.
COMBATSYS: Preston has started a fight here.
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Preston 0/-------/-------|
And quite the opposite, Domino is looking rather suave, if not just plain stylish. He emerges at the opposite side of the catwalk and lifts a hand to wave to the spectators, smirking confidently. Training via the Neo League. What fun. But moreover, he's heard of this guy from his teammate. So why not have a fight?
But the moment everything seems clear and ready to go, Domino is suddenly rushing in towards his opponent. Behind a pair of mirror-reflective shades, amethyst eyes zero in on the Brit intently, all hints of pleasantris drying up. Despite his white coat, the Dark Side of Domino has emerged.
Suddenly airborne, Domino curls into a flipping white ball, aimed to land in a low frontal stance before Preston. The moment he lands, both hands rocket out in a double palmheel strike aimed for his midsection. And as soon as his arms are fully extended, a bright flash of white concussive energy explodes from his hands.
COMBATSYS: Drake has joined the fight here.
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Drake 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Preston
COMBATSYS: Preston endures Drake's Whiteout.
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Drake 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Preston
As soon as the signal to begin is given, the tall brute's eyes snap back towards the frame of his opponent -- who is already airborne! "Oh, you're fast," Preston growls the words out, the oar coming off of his shoulder as he awaits the landing and what he knows will follow; an attack on his personage. And sure enough, this Domino fellow, in his fancy little coat, doesn't fail at the predictable.
Surging forward, the Brit meets those thrusting hands as his smirk slides into a savage grin. Even as that explosion of energy slaps out into his sizable torso, there's little more than a grunt as he pushes forward and through the strike; "You call that a strike?!" he roars the words, leaning forward as he brings that oar to bear in a low and fast thrust.
If his shorter opponent can hit him in the middle, then turnabout seems fair play. Through the nimbus of the explosion, the blade of that sizable wooden weapon stabs forward with a vile intent; to slam right for the stomach with enough gusto to take one's breath away. But it's only the beginning -- should the initial strike hit, the energetic Domino can expect to find himself airborne once more in a very sudden lift, sent flying back into the air for a nice tumble!
COMBATSYS: Drake dodges Preston's Bunting Tosser.
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Drake 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Preston
Domino doesn't respond. He rarely talks when actually fighting. It isn't because he's anti-social - it just detracts from concentration. And in this instance, it seems to pay off well enough for him. The strike didn't have nearly the effect he hoped, and therefore he shifts to the defensive. The moment the oar strikes towards him, the nimble wrestler twirls aside, leaving it to strike absolutely nothing. And from this position, he attempts to hop up and loop an arm backwards around Preston's neck. This would put the two back to back.. but moreso, it would hopefully bend Preston backwards until Domino lands on his knees, smashing his opponent's head against his shoulder in a stunner.
COMBATSYS: Preston interrupts Medium Throw from Drake with Queen's Regulations.
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Drake 0/-------/--=====|===----\-------\0 Preston
On the flip side, it seems that Preston is downright flippant, willing to shoot his gums in an attempt to drive his opponent's concentration right out the window. With his thrust neatly evaded, there's a sour grunt coming out of the tall youth's mouth -- and no doubt more to follow, words on the tip of his tongue if not for the sudden nimble agility displayed by Domino.
Oh, the Brit realizes. It's one of those guys.
Even as his opponent's arm slides about his neck, he shifts, showing remarkable speed of his own to turn what would have been a rather devastating strike to the back of his neck into something else. What damage he takes is more a wrench to his neck, something to shrug off as he twists further. And that something else proves to be the sudden heft of his arm, to thwart the full stun and put Domino back into the air -- making him a prime target for the sudden series of sweeping strikes that are employed! The first goes for the middle, a little love-tap that's swiftly followed by a second, culminating in a sudden, but almost graceful, uppercut that sends the blade of that massive oar whistling through the air for some sweet chin music!
And Domino takes pretty much the full brunt of it all, with a yelp coming at the last strike. He lands on his back with a grimace, but quickly kips back up to his feet, expression a mite bit more annoyed. He seems, however, undeterred by this. He dashes in towards Preston once more, except this time he drops back into a slide. The idea is to simply slide right between the sizable opponent's legs, and scissor them up with his own to bring the orc crashing down onto his face.
COMBATSYS: Drake successfully hits Preston with Fast Throw.
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Drake 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 Preston
There's a definite smirk on the face of Preston after he administered that decisive series of strikes. The crowd is forgotten as he concentrates on the renewed assault as Domino gets right back up and into the thick of things. The slide is telegraphed, but his attempt to suddenly drop to a knee and block the impromptu sliding throw isn't fast enough. And so, the timber falls.
Right into a roll, coming clean through and onto one knee, the oar held wide. With a glance back over his shoulder, he shifts his grip, using the reach of his weapon as he sends the butt of the weapon hurtling backwards in an effort to deliver some brute force for his wily opposition. If this kid in his fancy coat thinks he's going to play cute, then the brute will just have to show him the error of his ways.
COMBATSYS: Drake blocks Preston's Weapon Jab.
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Drake 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 Preston
Domino kips up to his feet once again and whirls around to face Preston... in time to see him rise back to his feet as well. He quirks and eyebrow and frowns a little, but decidedly shrugs it off to keep his focus. The weapon strikes, for certain, but it only crashes against the wrestler's forearms. The impact is sufficient enough to shift him back a step, but he's instantly closing in again.
This time, Domino weaves low and attempts to outright yank Preston's left leg out from under him to topple him onto his front again. But the leg is not released. Instead, Domino sets a boot to Preston's back, and he wrenches the leg backwards towards his head in a modified boston crab submission hold.
COMBATSYS: Drake successfully hits Preston with Strong Throw.
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Drake 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\0 Preston
Rising fully after sending that oar backwards, Preston's still in the middle of reeling it back in when Domino comes at him again. It's a low and fast assault -- so he does what seems like a sensible thing, lifting his leg into the air as the opponent reaches for it. A moment later, the grappler has the advantage, and there's a rather sour expression on the tall youth's face as he finds his leg wrenched backwards towards his head.
"Oh, you're a cute one, aren't you?" he growls through the pain, and then exerts his own physical strength to free himself from the hold. Those legs of his are like tree trunks, after all. Rolling away, the Brit finds himself on the defensive, coming through to his feet to face the plucky American. That oar of his is held out in front, but for the moment... he opts to take a breather, which is very unlike him. It's a testament to the strength of his opponent -- and he doesn't like it, not one bit.
"Not even goin' to shoot the fuckin' breeze, aren't ya? Heh, alright then..." If there's to be no conversation, then so be it. He awaits the next strike.
COMBATSYS: Preston gains composure.
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Drake 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Preston
Forced back off of Preston though he may be, Domino seems fully intent on continuing his assault. The oar, however, gives him brief pause. No answer is given to either of his opponent's remarks - he doesn't necessarily feel the need to reply to those. Not that he would anyway.
Regardless!
That oar is entirely too tempting. Domino dashes in towards his opponent again, and this time attempts to grab the oar and suddenly yank it forward with every expectation that Preston will not, under any circumstances, let that weapon go. ...Or at least that it'll take him by surprise. Either way, the idea is to bring Preston staggering forward, whereupon Domino's other arm hooks Preston's leg and he takes to the air briefly. It's little more than an aerial somersault, but it finds Preston landing hard on his back and Domino landing squarely across his torso. And immediately following, Domino will simply roll forward off of him to get back to his feet.
COMBATSYS: Drake successfully hits Preston with Solar Eclipse.
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Drake 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Preston
Suffice it to say, the opponent is most definitely using momentum to his advantage. The oar is pulled, and indeed, it seems that the Brit is unwilling to let his weapon be taken from him. His footing off balance, again the coat-wearing American capitalizes, utilizing momentum to offset the massive weight advantage that the taller of the two has. Again left on the ground, Preston... starts seeing red. This is definitely not going according to script, and it's time to change that.
It may come as a surprise, but with Domino back on his feet, the Brit isn't far behind. And in this case, it's a massive hand descending for the back of the grappler's neck. A crushing grip, but a two-pronged strike; if the man is unlucky enough to be caught from behind, he can expect a massive swell of chi to erupt from the modified catwalk to take him high up into the air!
COMBATSYS: Preston successfully hits Drake with Cape Horn Fever.
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Drake 1/---====/=======|=======\=------\1 Preston
Domino certainly wasn't expecting him to be on his feet so soon after that hit. So he is, indeed, grabbed and surprised verily. Then comes the chi, and it rends him thoroughly, blasting him high into the air with a pained cry. Though then he hits the ground with a yelp.. and stays there for a second.
But a second only. Domino is then pushing himself back to his feet, glaring at Preston through those shades. In a flash, he dashes towards the tall Brit, and makes a sudden grab for his shoulders...
COMBATSYS: Preston fails to interrupt Total Eclipse from Drake with Bull of Barney.
- Power fail! -
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Drake 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Preston can no longer fight.
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Drake 0/-------/-------|
And with the shoulders grabbed, Domino demonstrates a strength yet unseen in this match. His grip is firm, and his arms give a solid yank to force Preston over. The Brit's neck is locked between Domino's legs, and his arms loop around the man's sizable torso to lift him into piledrive position.
And thus begins the first phase of the Total Eclipse. His arms flex and crush SHARPLY into Preston's midsection, concaving the torso inwards while his legs crush along Preston's neck. The pressure is alleviated only a split second before it comes back in even harder force, crushing out what little air may have been drawn in in that brief moment.
The inverted bearhug continues for several excruciating seconds in that manner before phase two begins. The arms and legs crush tightly around the torso and neck, and Domino takes to the air. Curling with his opponent, he begins a series of forward flips. The speed increases rapidly on the uprise, and by the time they're on the descent, the two fighters have blurred together into an opaque swirl of motion. The full momentum of the blindingly fast flips and their combined bodyweight gets driven squarely against Preston's skull when they finally reach the ground again, causing a small mushroom cloud of debris to drift into the air.
And after the hit, Domino hops back and stands at the ready again, eyes narrowed behind his shades.
Suffice it to say the turn of events don't quite go as Preston had planned. With his opponent streaming towards him, the Brit seeks to meet the rush with a very linear strike; his big close-shaved head thundering down in an attempt to put the elusive Domino into the hospital.
When all is said and done, it may well be the brute who needs medical treatment. Crushed into the modified catwalk, it's broken entirely with the thunderous impact of the two -- but sadly, at least for Preston, all the impact is felt by him and him alone. Left there for a moment with his back still curved to have his legs up and over himself, he flops out with a rather sour grunt. "Nice," he growls the word out, coming back to his feet with an equally sour grimace.
And with that, he slants his oar over his shoulder and about-faces, striding off and through the crowd as he massages his neck. There's no chit-chat from him now, and it seems he'll lick his wounds elsewhere. Domino is left on the stage by himself, to the adoration of the upper-class watchers. Golf claps abound.
Odd as it may be, Domino is used to the sounds of golf claps. But Preston's sheer ability to just get up and wander off after being put through the Total Eclipse is... something else. It has him bawking. He -knows- his finisher isn't weak. But off his opponent wanders, leaving Domino just to scratch over the back of his head.
But after a few seconds, showmanship takes over, and Domino is back on the Light Side. He turns to face the clapping crowd, and he offers a pleasant, charming smile. The shades are sweeped from his face, and in the same motion, he dips into a low, elegant bow. When he rises, the shades are settled back over those amethyst eyes, and he simply runs a hand throguh his obsidian bangs.
COMBATSYS: Drake has ended the fight here.
Log created on 14:51:54 10/19/2007 by Drake, and last modified on 12:38:51 10/20/2007.