Description: The Temple Street Night Market, in Hong Kong, is the site of an epically powerful battle between a large Texas man and a small schoolgirl. Film... at 11! (Draw Match)
Time: 7:30 P.M.
Place: Temple Street Night Market, Hong Kong.
Of all the open-air markets in Hong Kong, the Temple Street Market, open at 2pm but alive at dusk, is by far the liveliest one at night. The atmosphere is normally a lot like that found in Times Square--aggressive sellers hawking everything from Louis Vuitton bags and Rolex watches (real -and- fake) to people with portable noodle stands selling bowls of quick noodles to hungry shoppers.
And that atmosphere is even -more- electric tonight. The middle of the street has been bought out, for the night, by Howard Enterprises, and instead of the stalls one might see there, instead there's a long, raised platform, covered in thick canvas, angled upwards about fifteen degrees at each end. The platform is nearly twenty yards long and ten wide, the last five yards of each end being the uptilted sections.
And there are lights, and cameras, and makeshift stadium-style seating all arranged by the arrangers of Saturday Night Fights. This is a throwdown of epic proportions. Aislinn Doyle--sometime NESTS agent, sometime Blackjack agent--also known as the Silent Assassin--waits at one end of the platform, standing stock-still, feet shoulder-width apart, arms crossed across her belly.
She stands there... waiting. This is her first SNF in quite some time, and while she doesn't worry about the cameras, she does worry, a little, about her skills... is she rusty, now? There's only one way to find out. But she won't get to find out until her opponent arrives.
So this is Communist China. Huh.
Hong Kong, an area primarily inhabited by the Han people, is filled with short people. Occasionally, there will be someone like Yao Ming, but those are rarities. So while he's used to standing head and shoulders over everyone, Brian Battler is sticking out even more like a sore thumb than usual. Tall, massive... TEXAN... The only way the former linebacker could stand out more is if he was wearing a neon green cowboy hat and clown shoes. Striding forward with deliberate intent, people are quick to get out of the giant's way, be they shoppers, merchants, or even the soldiers of the People's Republic stationed to make sure the peace is maintained.
Having made his way to the makeshift arena, Brian lifts a can of Tsingtao, a Chinese-made beer, to his lips, emptying it into his gaping maw. The slight glaze in his eyes serves to show that he's had quite a few of these 12 ounce cans of stupid, but the Texan doesn't otherwise show signs of inebriation. Crushing the can in his massive hand, he tosses the aluminum ball over his shoulder and steps onto the mat, a slight grin on his face. Tipping his hat once towards his opponent, he now stands at the ready.
Let's break shit.
COMBATSYS: Aislinn has started a fight here.
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Aislinn 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Brian has joined the fight here.
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Brian 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Aislinn
Nh. A boor. A beer-swilling mountain of Texas meat. But... Aislinn saw him on the Suiryuu and while she never tangled with him directly, she knows he's not to be toyed with. The platform creaks as Brian climbs onto the mat, and the look in his eyes--that Limp Bizkit 'Break Stuff'-playing look--inspires the SNF announcer to hurry up his announcing.
"Making her return to the Saturday Night Fights after a several-week absence, Aislinn Doyle, also known as the Silent Assassin! And Brian Boit--I mean, uh, Brian Battler (pleasedon'tkillme), former football star and uh..." His voice falters slightly and he shrugs.
"I guess this is it. FIGHT!"
Aislinn hears the call and immediately she's rushing down the length of the platform, charging in on Brian. While he is a mountainous thing, Aislinn holds some not-so-inconsiderable strength in her small frame, and its that strength she puts to use as she flicks a leg out, just as she lands a step on her left foot, her right launched out to try and take Brian right in the gut. Payment for the beer, maybe.
COMBATSYS: Brian Toughs Out Aislinn's Light Kick!!
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Brian 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Aislinn
...
Brian shoots the announcer a look that could make Geese Howard want to turn tail and run. In fact, if it wasn't for the fact that the announcer is wearing brown slacks, everyone would've noticed why he just had to scurry off. Hmph. Turning back to Aislinn as she rushes in, Brian seems to just stand there as she launches a kick to his midsection.
Maybe it's the alcohol, but Brian seems to make no attempt to get out of the way of the attack, and certainly barely seems to move. His expression doesn't even change. It takes a moment for a change TO happen to Brian, and when it does, it seems like the actual effect of the attack was to alert him that "psst, it's time to fight".
Despite inebriation, Brian seems to still have some grip of his abilities... and, with a mighty paw shooting out towards Aislinn's neck, perhaps he might soon have a grip on the girl's throat as well. There's very little finesse here, as he intends to just squeeze... The trachea, after all, takes less pressure to crush than that beer can. It just requires a better grip than he's going for. Not that it really matters with his frame.
COMBATSYS: Aislinn endures Brian's Medium Throw!
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Brian 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Aislinn
The trachea -does- require less pressure to crush than a beer-can. This is true. Aislinn seems utterly unafraid as that paw reaches out, and grips her neck. The squeezing is hard to think past... but Aislinn manages, somehow. Stiffening her throat, she barely avoids having Brian close her windpipe--but only barely.
But she didn't let him grab her just to 'choke a bitch', as it were... instead, she lets him lift her up, then grabs his wrists, and then while he's squeezing... she's going to fling her legs back, then forward, then straight up.
This will hopefully do two things--first, it should break Brian's grip before he can do any permanent damage... and secondly, if her aim is right, she'll smash her booted heels right into Brian's chin. And this time, her legs flare with red-white chi lightning, crackling in a potent aura up and down from knees to soles.
COMBATSYS: Aislinn successfully hits Brian with Medium Kick.
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Brian 0/-------/--=====|===----\-------\0 Aislinn
For a moment, Brian envisioned Aislinn's head as a zlit he needed to pop. Unfortunately, this mental vision clouded his judgement, and he instead gets thumped in the chin, hard, with boots covered in that damn mystic energy crap. If he was prone to bruising, that red-white chi would've caused some bluing of his jaw, making up a nice little American stamp of approval on his face.
But whatever.
Even after getting stamped across the jaw, Brian's expression does little to show injury. In fact, it almost seems like his face is getting more placid, as if the alcohol was kicking in more... It almost makes him look like a cow. If only he had some cud, or gum, to chew. Well, he is a cowboy, so perhaps it's just getting back to his roots.
His grip undone, Brian's brain clicks over and decides he needs to attack again. Like a guided missile, Brian's hand shoots out, middle finger extended. Yes, Aislinn, he's giving you the finger. Right into an eye socket, if you're not careful.
COMBATSYS: Brian successfully hits Aislinn with Jab Punch.
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Brian 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 Aislinn
Right. That needs to stop. Aislinn gets jabbed in the eye--straight on--and she reels her head back. It isn't out of pain--rather, the move is to save her eye, although it's not in any serious danger of loss... however, with the successful attack on her eye, she decides to move back a bit. A swift crouch and then she leaps back, about ten yards, landing on her feet and gazing at Brian.
As she stands there, electricity begins crackling over her, sparking and crawling up her legs from the platform, power gathering, as she slides her right leg back and tightens her stance some. She's sure he's going to try -something-... and it never hurts to be prepared.
COMBATSYS: Aislinn gathers her will.
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Brian 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1 Aislinn
Oh, yes, he's gonna try something, all right.
Um. Wait, what? For a moment, Brian is unsure as to what to do. He thocked the girl a good one in the eye, but was unable to recreate a scene from Demolition Man. That was a good scene, too. Code 187, Northwest Quadrant.
Oh, yes, the fight. Sorry, tangent. Anyway. Given that Aislinn is now just standing there, looking like some kind of broken power transformer, the mountain of a man decides to move. Again reaching out, the Texan makes a grab for the lavender mop atop his opponent's head. Should his fingers find hair, it should be nothing to yank her forward, grab her by the back of the jacket and waistband... and then spike her into the floor. If he doesn't just make her look like she's got male pattern baldness, that is.
It's possible.
COMBATSYS: Aislinn counters Samurai Bomb from Brian with Heaven's Drive.
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Brian 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Aislinn
See, the thing about Aislinn is, despite being a combative sort of person, she doesn't actually -like- people touching her. Particularly when they have enough strength to rip out her hair by the roots. And though she -is- just standing there, she's in no way going to be passive about it, although she doesn't really know -exactly- what Brian has in mind.
But just by looking at him she knows it's not anything good. So, just before his meaty paw can grab for Aislinn's hair, suddenly, that electricity -stops-. Just stops. And then Aislinn's hands snap up and grab Brian by the wrist, stopping him cold.
An instant later the platform underneath Brian's feet erupts, as the Silent Assassin's power is formed into a man-sized, dual-edged blade of chi that lances straight up through Brian, searing into him as she releases his wrist.
And yes, that does include Brian's manbits in the searing.
If it wasn't for the time he spent in the NFL, being struck in the nuts would be far more excruciatingly painful. Given that time in professional football, not to mention bronc riding, being clanged in the crotch is enough to get a good grunt out of the Texan, as well as a few stumbled steps back... and really that's about all. Then again, it could just be the beer dulling the senses. Seems to do that a lot. Maybe that's why he drinks so much? Food for thought.
But let's face facts. Even in his stupor, Brian knows there's a difference between the two fighters. And that is... he's been hit more. This does not bode well. He must do something. Even though this play didn't work the first time, perhaps it will against a different state of readiness. His coaches were never shy about trying similar plays over and over again, so why should he be?
Again, meaty fingers attempt to interlace hair. The main difference being that, instead of trying to heft her forward, he wants to heft her up. Where he can grab her ankles. And then use her face like a sledgehammer about seven times. It worked against the Jinchuu champion!
COMBATSYS: Aislinn endures Brian's American Supernova!
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Brian 0/-------/-------|=======\==-----\1 Aislinn
Once again, Aislinn makes no attempt to move away from Brian, or to defend against his grab--although the hairpulling is painful--and she's grabbed by the ankles and slammed into the platform. Seven times. The only concession she makes is covering her face with her arms... she'll still bruise but she won't be dealing with broken bones or orbitals or anything really nasty. And with each swing down, she's calculating. Even a man of his size can't swing her forever...
And on the last swing, as she feels his grip loosen, she kicks out, throwing her hands down, and pushing off. The excess kinetic energy is used to force Aislinn into a flipping, tumbling arc... her goal being to land behind Brian.
And then she'll reach out for the back of his head and, should she get that grip, he will be introduced to approximately five million volts of pure chi electricity, from Aislinn's hands and into his head, and then the rest of his body.
COMBATSYS: Aislinn successfully hits Brian with Plasma Reverse.
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Brian 0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0 Aislinn
What? He's grabbed? What the h--
The last time Brian ate this much electricity he was drunk in the New York subway. Mythbusters be damned, he still got a shitload of shock to his netherbits that day. Staggering back and out of Aislinn's grip, smoke wafting from eyes, nose and mouth, the Texan looks even more dazed than normal. And why shouldn't he be? When was the last time you kissed a car battery?
It seems that the shock has taken a lot out of Brian, as he staggers away from her a good fifteen feet before starting to collapse. First to one knee, then the other, then onto his hands. His head droops, and his breathing laboured. Is this the end for Brian Battler? Has the schoolgirl taken the mountain of meat out this early? Is the fight over?
Of course not, you feeb.
Brian snorts. His breath seems almost visible. His arms stabilize, weight resting now on fingertips instead of palms. His legs lock, popping his knees off the ground. His head snaps up, eyes seeming to flicker red for a moment, as the faint afterimage of longhorns shimmer from his head. His left foot paws at the canvas.
Are you ready for some football?
Charging forward, Brian aims his shoulder at Aislinn's waist, even as he swings his arm up to try and catch her across the knees. His strength and force should send her airborne... But even then, he'd whip around in a tight circle to make another pass, then another, then a fourth. Because in Brian's mind... one is good, but more is better. Especially when it can cause grevious bodily harm.
COMBATSYS: Brian successfully hits Aislinn with Big Bang Tackle.
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Brian 0/-------/-------|=====--\-------\0 Aislinn
*BANG*
*BANG*
*BANG*
*BANG*
*THUMP*
That is, my friends, the sound of extreme pain. Aislinn didn't consider trying to get out of the way, and apparently she should have. The first shoulder tackle knocks her into the air--the rest juggle her, to unceasing waves of pain. When she finally lands (that's the *THUMP*) it seems as though she... shouldn't be getting up. Except she does, her breathing more than a little labored.
Breathing hurts, but it's necessary. Pain is little more than a distraction. Aislinn marshalls her strength, masters her body... and then she lunges forward again, closing with her opponent... and leaping up to throw a sacrifice roundhouse kick, her right boot whipping around to try and tag Brian in the temple. And since she thinks he likes it so much once more her chi flares along the kicking leg.
COMBATSYS: Brian fails to interrupt Light Kick from Aislinn with Jab Punch.
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Brian 0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0 Aislinn
Ah, the sweet, sweet feel of flesh someone else's flesh bruising. He always enjoys making someone's life a little more painful. It toughens them up. Makes them better people. Or cripples. Or dead. In any case, it makes his life far more interesting, which is all that really matters.
Turning around after his onslaught of shoulder bashes and forearm slams, he watches Aislinn pick herself up and launch again at him. What he needs to do is clear... he simply needs to chop block her at the knee. Her own momentum on both the kick and her jump should cause the simple attack to snap her kneecap in twain, and though the kick will still hit, he'll be the only one able to stay standing.
Problem is, she kicks higher than he thinks she will. He was expecting a nipple shot at best, not a crack upside the skull. So, instead, he just gets thunked, and Aislinn gets to keep walking.
Dammit.
Brian is doing his best to cripple her. Aislinn respects that. The chopblock would've most certainly snapped a kneecap at the very least. But with the uninterrupted momentum of the attack, Aislinn doesn't have to land hard; she is able to whip her legs around underneath her and land steadily on her feet. Down to the wire, now; she can see that Brian's hurt and she knows she is, too. Probably it won't take much to take Brian down.
But just to play it 'safe'... Aislinn draws her right hand back, forming a fist, and energy sparks around it as she steps forward, thrusting the fist forward and slightly angled upwards. But the fist isn't meant to hit--instead, with that oh-so-typical *snaphiss* that George Lucas's ILM team popularized, a flaring blade of that chi erupts, its target Brian's torso.
COMBATSYS: Aislinn successfully hits Brian with Lightning Blade.
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Brian 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Aislinn
You know what? After getting kicked in the head, Brian really doesn't give a rat's ass about this fight anymore. The announcer sees it. The crowd sees it. His few fans see it. His detractors cheer when they see it. He's about to throw in the towel.
See, Brian has only genuinely lost one fight... every other one, he's stormed off instead. It's something he's known for, and something he's been doing since his days in peewee football. He'll stick around until the last minute or two of the game, and then bail if his team isn't performing. Sometimes, his team still wins... Hell, he stormed off at the end of the Super Bowl one year and the Cowboys still won handily. He got a fine and a suspension out of it, but he also got the ring.
Again, tangent. Nevertheless, it would seem that the time has come once again for Mr. Battler to give in. Getting skewered by the blade of chi is just the final straw. He's leaving.
But not before he gives that announcer a piece of his mind.
Turning away from Aislinn, Brian stomps over to the announcer's desk, grabbing the cowering man by the lapel. "It's Battler, you fat-faced son of a bitch," he mutters in the man's face. "Don't forget it again." The man nods wildly, hoping his compliance will save him from further injury. It doesn't. Because he now uses the small man as a missile, winging him hard at Aislinn as one final "screw you" to both her and the announcer before stalking off.
Boitano, my ass.
COMBATSYS: Brian can no longer fight.
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Aislinn 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: Brian successfully hits Aislinn with Large Thrown Object.
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Aislinn 1/------=/=======|
Sore loser. Right. Aislinn will remember that... and doubly so because she just wasn't expecting him to HURL THE ANNOUNCER at her. But she doesn't really want to be hit by a flying announcer either. Nor does she have much concern for his fate. So she shoulder-blocks the announcer aside, and is left... standing on an empty platform. Hm. Not exactly the end she expected.
But, with Brian having just walked off 'before the end', so to speak, Aislinn is no longer terribly interested in sticking around either; she turns, and while the announcer is getting back on his feet and people are muttering about Brian's exit, she herself hops off... and blends into the crowd.
By the time everyone's focused back onto the platform, it's empty. Looks like any decision will have to go to instant replay.
Log created on 11:57:03 11/10/2007 by Aislinn, and last modified on 09:39:31 11/18/2007.