Description: The MGM Grand Garden Arena, one of the glitziest of stops in the city that never sleeps. It is here that Mike Bison makes a triumphant return to the city that was his base... his first publicized, promoted fight in Vegas... but will Ayame and Marisol be enough to make the reunion a bittersweet one? (Winner: Bison)
There are just three words running through Bison's mind at this moment. They are, in this order:
OH.
HELL.
YES.
Now, anyone who knows Bison knows that he's proclaimed that he doesn't 'need' the boxing scene anymore. They dropped him, their loss. But really... it's his home. Of -course- he misses it. It rankles that he'll never be able to be a champion -boxer- again... so to be able to strut his stuff on the mean streets of Las Vegas, in the place where he earned his first fame... oh hell yes.
The arena is -packed-. This might not be Howard Arena, but Las Vegas makes 'em big, too, and the return of Bison to the big ring has certainly sparked interest of the legal and not-so-legal kinds.
Of course Bison is the favorite--he's long been renowned (and feared) for the power of his punches, and that he's up against two girls... well, it won't be pretty either way. Scantily-clad ring girls are marching around, sashaying and swinging their hips, clad in the briefest of gold lame bikinis, holding up placards announcing the event. In the center of the ring is none other than Michael Buffer, the grey-haired, most-famous of announcers standing mid-ring.
"AND TONIGHT, LADIES AND GEEEENTLEMEEEEN! We have a very, -very- special treat for you folks! The Raging Bull, the man who killed an elephant with his bare hands... MIKE BISON... -HAS RETURNED!!!!-" He has to wait for the cheers to die down before he continues--he's a master of the crowd.
"But his opponents are no slouches! Marisol O'Connell, of Southtown's Pacific High and her team the Pacific Resistance... and the weapons fighter known only as... Ayame!"
Somewhere in all the hubbub Bison's already appeared, gone out in full boxing regalia, gloves already laced on firm, boots secure, his blue silk boxing shorts hugging his hips, a red cape with a black bull embroidered in on his shoulders. Buffer gestures, and a spotlight hits him, making that cape, with its sewn-in sequins, glitter as he drops it to the mat. Where are the other two? They're here somewhere--Buffer will get to them in time, as he intones his trademarked phrase, as dramatically as he can.
"AND NOW... LET'S GET READY TO... RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"
Going up against yet another legend in the fighting world? Business as usual for Ayame. Week after week she finds herself tossed either against mobs of fighters of her own calibur that all want to beat the hell out of her, or in the line of fire of one of the masters of various styles to supposedly work as a /team/ with said mobs... And this week is no different.
Announced, the girl saunters out toward the ring, a six foot long titanium metal staff resting against her shoulder, recently polished and shined so that it reflects the lights of the arena with a scintillating array of sparkles. Just in time to get marred by the blood of another opponent, as far as she's concerned... Dressed in her usual affair of skirt and blouse, belts a plenty, neck tie, and ankle high Doc Martins, the girl is as ready for this match as she is for any other.
It isn't her opponent that troubles her thoughts, however, but rather her partner. Dealing with someone of Bison's calibur can be dangerous work as-is. Stepping into the arena alongside another girl that would probably be happy to see Ayame take some savage hits is a whole new level of risk that Ayame isn't sure she's comfortable with.
But on the surface, she appears to be as calm as can be as she hops up onto the side of the ring and slips between the ropes. Sending her staff into the air in a lazy spin, the girl catches it on the way back down with her other hand and twirls into a position tugged beneath her arm. Brown eyes regard the boxing machine she's up against. She's reviewed tapes of him in battle. He's a... rather... direct fighter and packs the power to make it work. Getting struck is going to be bad news indeed.
"Bison, huh. What's with the bull motif - seems like you're already packing an animal name to begin with." she remarks, resting her right hand against her hip. "Well. We'll see if you can hold up to either large animal's reputation, ne?" A shake of her head sends some of her long hair back over her shoulder, the girl doing her best to ignore her troubled doubts about the third fighter.
A packed house at the MGM in Vegas. Is there anything more exhilarating? Or daunting?
It's not Marisol's first time to visit Vegas, and it's certainly likely not to be her last. In fact, she distinctly recalls a particularly chaotic SNF again Luc AND Stasya of the Guardian Kings. That didn't end really well, and left the casino of the MGM Grand a horrible mess. Thankfully Howard Enterprises footed THAT bill. She may be an heiress, but...damn.
By order of the SNF crews backstage, Marisol was ushered out when she and her unlikely teammate were announced after the Vegas favorite by the equally-famous Michael Buffer. Deep down inside Marisol gets butterflies in her stomach. Who DOESN'T know about the (in)famous Mike Bison, killer-of-elephants and likely other large land (and possibly aquatic??) mammals?
A few moments after Ayame parts the backstage Marisol walks out, taped hands clenched into light fists at her sides. Clad in a khaki skirt, lightweight white sneakers and a casual white hoodie with the hood dropped, the half-Spaniard makes her way rather swiftly to the stage, eyes not one cast toward the enormous crowds filling the boxing arena. She's nervous as hell as it is - she doesn't NEED any added uneasiness, damn it.
Slipping her form through the ropes, the girl's eyes finally lift, observing the other fighters gathered. Idly gnawing her lip, the girl's eyes hood lightly as she peers at Bison himself, sizing the much larger and stronger man up before she sighs and shuts her eyes. This won't be easy, she privately decides, lips pulling into a light pout. But the frown swiftly becomes a smirk.
That's what she likes.
An eye opens eventually, a gray eye cast toward the other infamous fighter present. Peering at Ayame, the redhead says nothing to the blonde girl wielding the pole; instead, she offers a neutral look to the 'Sneak Thief' before she saunters over, closing in on Ayame without hesitating. Peering closely, the half-Spaniard leans in and narrows her eyes on Ayame.
Is she going to punch her..??
"Let's kick this guy's ass," the girl states darkly, lightly poking Ayame in the shoulder. "Yeah?"
With newfound resolve (of sorts) and confidence, Marisol pivots on her sneaker and faces Bison, giving her teammate room as she steps forward. Grinning proudly, the girl lifts a hand and jerks a thumb at her chest, head lifting as she calls out to the boxer, "Better not take us girls for granted, got it, elephant-killer? Just 'cause we're half your age doesn't mean we're pushovers!"
Clenching her fists, Marisol assumes a neutral stance, arms lifted from her sides with her fists at chest level.
"Come on, Ayame. Let's show 'em what we've got, huh?"
COMBATSYS: M.Bison has started a fight here on the left meter side.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
M.Bison 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Marisol has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
M.Bison 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Marisol
COMBATSYS: Ayame has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
M.Bison 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ayame
> //////////////////////////////]
|-------\-------\0 Marisol
Hyo hyo hyo. So, here they are, his opponents. Hard not to have heard about Ayame--her SNFs are legendary (in their disregard for her health). Marisol? Well, someone mentioned a woman boxer sometime, somewhere. The big, badass black man glares at Ayame, his muscles bulging as they tense. Mouthy lil' bitch, innit she? She'll get hers. That is for sure. Bison's sneer is not one of that stilted superiority that the rich get--though he is very rich--but the sneer of a man who fully intends on turning this girl into paste. It's plain on his face.
Reviewed tapes of him... that's mausing. As if a tape could properly express what it is to face -Bison-... the big man is far more than what a mere tape can show. With the fight not -quite- started yet, Bison moves his beady gaze to the other girl. Marisol O'Connell. Boxer. Lookin' quite alright in her little ensemble and the taped hands. Lookin' good. Well, thinks Bison to himself... we'll soon fix that.
Ayame... oh wait, the little girl addressed him, didn't she. Bison just grins, the kind of grin that reminds one that it's just a way of baring one's teeth.
"What's iwth the bull motif? You'll see, bitch, you'll see." A paragon of sportsmanship, he is not. He cricks his head, the pops sounding loud and nasty to the girls in the ring; Buffer is safely out of the ring, leaving just Bison and his opponents...
And then the bell sounds and Bison just lunges forward, an explosion of movement towards Marisol. Boxer versus boxer, right? Bison's fists clench inside his gloves, and as he arrives at Marisol's position he fires a punishing combination at her, right hand leading with a short jab to the stomach, followed by a hard left cross aimed to tag Marisol right on the chin.
As Marisol advances on Ayame, the staff user actually tenses up, turning to face the other girl directly, brown eyes narrowing just a little, clearly watching for the inevitable swing to come. If she's expecting it, she can perhaps avoid it, right? Her right hand reaches across her chest, tightening on the staff tucked beneath her left arm, clearly getting ready to defend herself, not from her assigned opponent but for the one she expects Marisol to be in very short order.
Let's kick this guy's ass, Marisol remarks, poking Ayame's bare shoulder and causing her to stumble back just a little in surprise at the anticlimatic 'strike', looking a bit caught off guard - a rare state for her to be in. Recovering as the Pacific student turns away, Ayame is left to blink, her expression one of mild shock. After their last time in a match together, after she threatened Marisol's friends as leverage to save herself... the girl seems to have had a change of heart? Or maybe, Ayame muses as she recovers, she's just playing nice, to keep from being backstabbed in the ring against the monster they're fighting. Perhaps that's it... her paranoia riddled mind seems to conclude after a moment.
But still, she should go along with it, and simply be wary. "Yeah," she replies, her grin coming naturally it seems, the girl pulling the staff out from under her arm and twirling it into position in front of her. "Let's."
Turning back toward Bison, Ayame stares at the powerful boxer silently. As usual, she can't seem to keep her mouth shut, which is why she replies readily, inviting certain death without an apparent care in the world. "Yeah?" she replies to his degrading retort. "I hope you weighted those gloves. You're going to need the edge. This girl here," she remarks, nodding her head to the side toward Marisol, "Is the best damn boxer /I've/ ever fought. Try not to fall behind."
The bell rings and the match begins, Bison tearing in toward Marisol, charging directly into the fray. Huh. Okay. That's where the bull motif comes from, she concludes with a silent cringe. But perhaps that aggression can be used against him. The girl is quick to release her staff with her right hand, reaching to her belt, clicking one of the clasps open and slipping off the two yard whip. "Okay, convinced me," she remarks with an idle grin, lashing the weapon out with her right hand at the limit of her range, aiming to entangle Bison by the legs and yank hard in hopes of sending him sprawling to the ring floor, perhaps in hope of securing an advantage for a moment by slowing him down!
COMBATSYS: Marisol blocks M.Bison's Medium Punch.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////// ]
M.Bison 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ayame
> //////////////////////////// ]
|=------\-------\0 Marisol
Ayame's reaction is...a little unexpected, much like Marisol's behavior toward the girl who, weeks ago, threatened her friends. Just what's with the change of heart? Is Marisol trying to play nice in favor of cooperation? Or is there something else to her methods..?
Whatever the redhead's intentions are regarding Ayame, she's almost impossible to read. The grin noted, the girl hoods her eyes lightly and nods her head, a friendly-but-stern expression on her sunkissed features before she turns and arrogantly addresses the boxer of the evening with confidence. He's tall and big and certainly black (Preston would have a heyday), but the half-Spaniard girl doesn't APPEAR to be cowed by him!
Just as the girl begins to open her mouth, Ayame speaks up from just behind her, causing the gray-eyed girl to blink twice before she glances briefly over her shoulder. Did she hear right? Did this 'Sneak Thief' girl really compliment her..? Surprised, the redhead stares...before she smirks and lifts a hand to absently toss her hair from her shoulder. Before she jerks a thumb toward the weapons girl.
"And Ayame here's one of the best weapons-based fighters I've ever been up against, so you better hope you've got Lady Luck on your side tonight!" she replies, lifting her chin a touch as she lightly puffs her chest. Take that!
With a resounding ring, a bell sounds through the arena, and immediately the formidable boxer lunges into action. Tensing her body, the girl braces for the attack, shoulders bunching lightly as she drops one fist and intercepts the stomach blow with her forearm before she lifts it and shields her face from the strike to the face with both arms. That was scary..!
And gave Ayame a chance to strike. Glancing to the side and observing the girl as she attempts to wrangle herself a scary six-six, two-hundred and fifty pound black man by the legs, Marisol makes her move. Charging at Bison, she attempts to deliver a straight punch to the face (or whatever she can actually reach), followed by a cross. Pulling back briefly thereafter, should both connect, the girl's fists ignite with dandelion-yellow chi, her body twisting before she thrusts both fists into the trunk of Bison's burly body, the impact resulting in a stinging burst of chi!
COMBATSYS: M.Bison endures Ayame's Hijacked.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////// ]
M.Bison 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Ayame
> /////////////////////////// ]
|-------\-------\0 Marisol
COMBATSYS: M.Bison interrupts El Matador from Marisol with Turn Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////// ]
M.Bison 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Ayame
> //////////////////// ]
|=====--\-------\0 Marisol
The gloves? Oh, the gloves -are- weighted. They're all weighted. But Bison generally opts for the minimum glove weight. Because, see, he already hits hard enough. The gloves are there to keep him from hitting -harder-. Truth is, if he weren't gloved, his hits would be far more painful and likely to bruise, break skin, or break bone. The girls should be thankful that he -is- wearing the gloves. Best boxer? Her?
Bison grunts a laugh, his voice low and malicious. "Best boxer? 'pparently you ain't seen ME," he growls, and if the girls are acting confident, then so is Bison.
Ayame's whip finds its mark, for sure--but instead of snaring both legs, she only snares one, getting Bison's right leg, pulling it wide and back. It drops him to one knee--but he also saw Marisol coming, out of the corner of his eye... and hearing her declared 'the best boxer'...? Well, he's going to have to prove to her what a -real- punch is. He actually aids the twisting pull down; just as at he's at his lowest point to the mat he -punches- the mat with his right fist, redirecting his momentum, and coming up -right- into Marisol's punches. The first two strikes hit, to little effect--and then Bison's right fist is drilling right into Marisol's forehead, a sure-shot strike that proclaims Bison as the best boxer.
Back on his feet, he grimaces a little--just a little. That pulled a muscle--he'll feel it, tomorrow...
Her boast on Marisol's behalf is returned with one on her own behalf by the Spaniard and Ayame mentally 'huhs', her mind continuing to try and unravel whatever it is that Marisol is up to. A gifted reader of people, she is quite often capable of predicting what others are likely to do with some degree of accuracy. But right now she feels like she's dealing with a completely different persona than the girl she was stuck on the runway with last time they were placed together in an event, and the incongruity of it all bothers the resident 'Sneak Thief' to no end.
But she hasn't time to fret about it when facing down the likes of the raging Bison. Quick on her feet, she manages to snare one of his legs, but not quite drop him to the mat. Drat, she muses, as she yanks back on the whip hard before snapping it back and coiling it quickly over her shoulder, unable to do anything to contend with the powerful punch sent directly into Marisol. She's given Bison a point to prove, and prove it he seems to intend to do.
Very well, the girl muses, gritting her teeth as she releases her whip's handle and clamps her hand back down over her staff, joining her left in holding the weapon in place in front of her in a defensive position. She's going to need to be able to pack some bigger punches to deal with the likes of this living legend. Fortunately, she has come to learn a technique very much for building up that kind of energy in a pinch if given a moment's respite.
As the girl concentrates, drowning out the sounds of the roaring crowd, ignoring the perspiration inducingly hot lights, the tension in the air as everyone eagerly awaits a savage beatdown one way or another... the girl begins to draw in energy from the air literally rife with the spirit of combat. Visible as red whisps around her feet at first, the chi whips up and around her, becoming blue as it gains height, giving the young fighter a sudden surge in combat potential.
"I've seen you now..." the girl grins, her jaw clenched in concentration, her hands white-knuckle tight on her titanium staff. "... and I ain't impressed!" Of course, that might just because she hasn't been socked yet. Good work, Marisol, tanking that guy. Keep it up!!
COMBATSYS: Ayame gathers her will.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
M.Bison 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Ayame
> //////////////////// ]
|=====--\-------\0 Marisol
"Well," the girl states idly, sparing a brief glance to Ayame. "He sure talks big."
But the girl says little after the first punch is thrown; instead, the half-Spaniard makes her move just behind Ayame, closing in on the surly, foul-mouthed boxer as he's snared by a leg and pulled a touch. Okay, so he's not felled, but that's no problem. She'll make do with what she can get, and hey. He's on his knee. That's not so bad. At least she can punch him in the facemeats?
It was a good idea at the time. Really. The moment she punches the guy in his face she smiles - before rather suddenly a massive boxing glove is slamming itself into her forehead with terrible force. The impact is certainly jarring; driven backwards with a loud grunt, the girl actually sails back, her feet skidding against the mat before her backside impacts with the ropes. Briefly, Marisol hangs there, her body sagging against the cherry-red ropes. It's so comfortable...
Shaking her head, the girl pulls herself off, a light groan escaping her as she gingerly touches her bruising forehead. "Christ," she mutters under her breath, her taped hand dropping to eye her fingertips. Did she get cut open? Fortunately not.
"Alright, gettin' ahead of myself, I think," the redhead offers, lips cutting into a light sneer. Narrowing her gray eyes, Marisol fixes her attentions entirely on Bison, attempting to fight off the last of the fuzziness and ringing in her head from that nasty forehead blow. Ayame and her chi gathering is noted, but the girl doesn't interrupt her; instead, Marisol smirks lightly. Tanking Bison hurts!
"I'll be less careless from now on, I think."
Gray eyes narrow sharply on Bison.
COMBATSYS: Marisol focuses on her next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
M.Bison 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Ayame
> ///////////////////// ]
|=====--\-------\0 Marisol
Henh. Little uppity girls, gettin' all uppity. Bson ain't gonna stand for that. Ayame backs off. Powering up or not, she's afraid. And if she isn't...
She should be. But he'll let her power up. He's seen some of her and he's none too impressed. At least not yet. Marisol, however...
Well okay. He ain't impressed by her yet either. But maybe she's got potential. He squares up on the gray-eyed, redheaded boxer, letting Ayame be for now. But this girl...
Bison starts forward again, seemingly slowly at first... then lunging again. It really is the foundation of his style--this forward lunge, the sudden burst of speed, feet not even dragging the mat as he closes in on the other boxer, his blood rage rising by the moment.
Bison drops his right fist to his hip as he lunges--and that explosive speed lands him right in front of Marisol. His left fist shoots out for Marisol's stomach, again, a quick, flickering jab...
That turns out to be a feint, Bison suddenly planting his feet and twisting his hips, hurling himself into a hard, hooking right. The punch is aimed squarely at Marisol's temple--a spot that has been proven to be a kill-spot, if hit with enough force...
... but you get in the ring with the bull, you risk gettin' killed. Bison has no remorse, no pity, only the purity of his rage and his overwhelming strength. It's what he stakes every fight on.
The energy whipping up around Ayame, playing with her hair and ruffling loose clothing, begins to die down, most of it clearly absorbed directly into her, refreshing muscles and invigorating her fighting spirit. Exhaling as the buid up is allowed to run to completion, the girl fixes her attention directly back on Bison. He's not slowing down in the slightest, even as the two younger fighters have fallen back for a quick reprieve.
In he goes toward Marisol again and Ayame che's. She's going to have to buy that girl a break. For all her talk, she knows Bison is someone who can back up his threats, and if her partner is to last at all, she's going to need to draw some of his attention, for better or for worse.
Opting to attack him from the side once again as he turns a blind eye to her for a moment. That can't possibly last forever, but hey, in the meantime? Darting in, the girl goes for the legs again, this time putting that staff she's been toting to use by stabbing it down, attempting to shove it right in between his footfalls and force him into tripping over the pesky weapon. "Hey tough guy, you afraid to attack me!?" the girl snaps. As if that wasn't enough... should she actually manage to trip the raging fighter, she'll bring the staff crashing down on his back as a followup just to drive her point home.
COMBATSYS: Marisol endures M.Bison's Hook Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
M.Bison 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 Ayame
> /////////////// ]
|=======\=------\1 Marisol
When Bison moves for the girl again, the half-Spaniard scoffs lightly and softly tosses her head with a smirk. It seems the big scary boxer can't keep his hands off the girl! She should be flattered...even if her body is starting to protest against the punishment. Her forehead STILL hurts and aches like a bitch. But it's the last thing on her mind.
The girl smirks, taped hands curling into tight fists at her chest.
"C'MON!" the girl bellows, just before the boxer breaking into a startling burst that really belies his big and bulky figure. It's distantly alarming but...the girl doesn't move. She just smirks, a glance briefly cast toward Ayame. Maybe the girl can get a swift blow in while he's distracted, she wonders.
The fleeting jab aimed at her stomach is noted, and in turn the girl exhales to shrug off the blow. The real pain comes when he delivers a harsh hook for her head - again!! - causing her to reels sharply to the side, her body daring to fall. Will she collapse?
No! Instead, the girl suddenly snaps back and blurts, "GREAT!!" before she laughs, gray eyes wide as she stares up at Bison. Still laughing, her fist erupts with furious yellow chi, her body curling back and away as the fire from her fist races up along her arm, her fist pulling painfully tight at her side...before she drops harshly and hits the mat with a knee, her fist punching INTO the mat.
...which rumbles angrily before a spot beneath her fist turns bright yellow, growing wide and swelling brightly. A split second later the ground roars upwards and towards Bison with a furious gout of dandelion-yellow chi, pieces of the ring flying at the bulky boxer to consume him in an angry plume of debris and energy!
COMBATSYS: M.Bison endures Marisol's Shoot the Moon.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
M.Bison 1/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Ayame
> ////////////// ]
|-------\-------\0 Marisol
COMBATSYS: M.Bison fails to interrupt Medium Strike from Ayame with Uppercut Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
M.Bison 1/-======/=======|====---\-------\0 Ayame
> ////////////// ]
|-------\-------\0 Marisol
This is where it gets tough to be Bison. The problem with smacking girls around is that they tend to get pissy about it. When Marisol just takes that hook... well, actually, Bison's a little bit impressed. Until of course she blows his world, literally, with that gout of chi and debris. He -hates- that shit. But she'll have to wait. Because Ayame's coming and he-- well...
The problem is, he's already airborne; the best he can do is try and turn his momentum against Ayame, trying to twist around to punch right through her staff strike. Sadly, it goes not so well--he's just out of position, despite his best efforts, and he gets a staff to the chest.
At least he's grounded again; that's something, he thinks, as he lands, growling, his eyes wide, almost vibrating. Win this fight? Hell, he doesn't give a damn about that anymore, really. Now he just wants to -hurt- these two. If they're enemies, they better make friends, -fast-. Because Bison is just going to want to smash them into the ground. Ayame asked about the bull motif--it's never more obvious than it is now, as he faces off against the two girls, his nostrils quivering, his breath issuing in snorts... practically pawing the ground with his feet.
Ayame finds herself spared an extremely punishing blow to the head by virtue of her positioning, her tricky weapon hitting his chest, and a fair amount of stupid, dumb luck that she'll be happy to take. But he's back on his feet and he looks pissed as hell. Something not missed by Ayame at all. Their taunts, his violent personality, and the powerful tension in the air of the arena all collide to power the fighter with enough adrenaline to light up a city.
A glance is cast toward Marisol, the girl who has born the brunt of the pain thus far, and Ayame studies her condition quickly. She's a tough one, that boxer from Pacific High, able to weather those impacts thus far is no small feat. Allowing herself a moment of being truly impressed with the guts of the other girl, the much less direct Ayame just shakes her head, turning her focus back toward the rampaging beast of a fighter.
"All right." she remarks, tapping her staff against her shoulder for a moment, the gears of her mind working overtime to try and make the best of her options. Deciding to go for another somewhat sneaky attack, Ayame charges forward, hefting her staff, appearing to be intending to deliver another simple strike with the metal pole... From a couple yards out, she spins in, using the weapon as a bit of a guard to keep her from being brushed off easily, but when she comes out of the spin it isn't her staff but rather her hand that slams forward, palm first, unleashing a small but forceful torrent of chi, as red-orange as the setting sun on a summer's eve. The blast packs some punch - probably not enough to fell a fighter like Bison, but maybe he won't see it coming!
Letting her adrenaline and emotions carry her, the half-Spaniard punches the arena, making quite a mess out of the million-dollar plus matting and set up that likely has a few executives in the MGM Grand fainting. Can't they ever catch a break when SNF chooses to schedule a match?? Survey says...no!
Regardless, it's the last thing on Marisol's mind. The ground roars to life, the gout of angry yellow chi barreling into the boxer along with various debris and launching his meaty form into the air. The laughter dies down from the redhead as she rises up, her hands clenching and unclenching as she watches the man sail upwards...and ultimately have a staff lodged into his chest.
Marisol exhales loudly after, the adrenaline fading a bit as she sags her shoulders and lifts a hand to her poor, bruising face. She's definitely going to be feeling those blows in the morning, she inwardly grouses. How awful. Couldn't he have punched her in the chest? At least those are easier to cover up!
Shaking her head lightly, the redhead pulls her taped hand tightly once more, knuckles straining as she watches Ayame swing her staff at the boxer. Nodding to herself, Marisol gently bites down on her jaw before she pushes off her back foot, lunging forward and into the fray once again. She moves after the other girl's attack, attempting to drive a swift punch aimed for Bison's ribs, followed by another punch aimed for the center of his chest...
Because the guy is like, seriously tall. Seriously!
COMBATSYS: M.Bison blocks Ayame's Midsummer Fantasy.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////// ]
M.Bison 1/=======/=======|====---\-------\0 Ayame
> /////////////// ]
|-------\-------\0 Marisol
COMBATSYS: M.Bison blocks Marisol's Medium Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////// ]
M.Bison 1/=======/=======|====---\-------\0 Ayame
> /////////////// ]
|-------\-------\0 Marisol
There are times when even the powerful-scary Mike Bison just has to hunker down. He took quite a beating over the last couple rounds of the fight--Marisol, he decides grudgingly, can hurt when she wants to. Ayame... well, she hasn't hurt him much. But she's annoying, which may be even worse. Suddenly, he's assaulted from both sides! ... well, okay, not all that suddenly, he was sort of expecting it. It's what happens when you're fighting two opponents.
Bison quickly adopts a defensive stance, dealing first with that torrent of chi, bracing his legs as he absorbs that hit. He has to plant his feet, which makes him a perfect target for Marisol's attack--however, that, too, bounces off his guard.
The big man sneers a little, at Ayame, and decides--now would be a good time to take her down. He turns away from Marisol and towards the weapons user, attempting to step in past her guard--if he can, he'll lock her up in a clinch, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, and lift her up for a few headbutts to the face before tossing her back into the ring ropes...
It is yet another example of just why Bison isn't a professional boxer anymore.
COMBATSYS: M.Bison successfully hits Ayame with Head Bomber.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
M.Bison 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\-------\1 Ayame
> /////////////// ]
|-------\-------\0 Marisol
COMBATSYS: Ayame has saved the state of this fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
M.Bison 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\-------\1 Ayame
> /////////////// ]
|-------\-------\0 Marisol
The two attacks sent Bison's way don't manage to get through his defenses, the man holding back, not quite lashing out with adrenaline powered aggression for a brief moment. The street rogue's chi blast defended against, Ayame starts to hop backward, intending to recalibate her plans based on observing how he contended with the small surge of energy. But she quickly discovers that she's at last garnered his attention, for better or worse. Mostly worse.
The second her feet touch the mat of the ring, Bison is there, inside her guard too tight for her to defend herself with her staff, which requires a bit of range in order to be at its most effective. A feeble attempt is made to pry herself out of his arms when he gets his hold, but the difference in raw physical strength between the two fighters leaves that option pretty much impossible to accomplish as well... Which is why the girl finds herself hefted up right into a number of headbutts to the face just as her right hand goes for a knife, hoping to use that to punish him for getting in so close to her.
Before she can stab, however, Ayame finds herself flung against the ropes, the springing constraints stretching then contracting, forcing her forward, stumbling a bit uneasily, her lip bleeding as well as a trickle visible from her right nostril. It seems like it takes her a moment to even get her eyes focused back on Bison at all as she tries to fix him with a glare. "All right, Buffalo Boy, you just got a lucky hit... don't let it go to your head." she finishes with a mildly groggy smirk.
Simply dropping her knife to the canvas, the girl charges right back in. At first it may seem as if she's attempting to avoid getting in close and take advantage of the range her staff gives her... But as she clears the halfway point, Ayame spins her staff such that one end of it points toward Bison, and sends a small capsul launching out toward his feet which instantly explodes into a sizeable plume of concealing smoke... Which she hopes gives her the cover she needs in order to leap up over him, her staff flaring to life with an earthly green, narrow aura as the girl spins in mid-air, attempting to drop down onto Bison's back, hooking the titanium pole under his chin and literally just try to choke him from behind with the chi infused weapon! "Down boy!"
When Ayame gets a face full of Bison's bony skull...Marisol winces. It hardly crosses her mind that her punches had minimal effect on the boxer; instead, she watches as Ayame falls backwards, hitting the ropes before she's sent staggering forward, bleeding and sore. That had to hurt - Marisol KNOWS it hurt. She's taken a few punches already from this guy. He's serious business.
"Careful!" the half-Spaniard calls out, as Ayame attacks the boxer with a plume of clouding smoke. Pursing her lips, she observes as the girl makes her move thereafter, to hopefully take the massive boxer by surprise. Smirking lightly to herself, the gray-eyed girl narrows her gaze and bites her lip...
Then she's off. Pushing off of her back foot, Marisol charges forward as the smoke clears, keeping her body low as she races in, while Ayame attempts to strangle the man with chi and titanium, attempts to drive a swift and fleeting punch right for the man's surly mug!
COMBATSYS: M.Bison blocks Marisol's Light Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
M.Bison 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=====--\-------\0 Ayame
> /////////////// ]
|-------\-------\0 Marisol
COMBATSYS: M.Bison endures Ayame's Nocturnal Solitude.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
M.Bison 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\-------\0 Ayame
> /////////////// ]
|-------\-------\0 Marisol
Marisol's punch is simple to deal with; he simply turns, catching her fist in one gloved hand. Releasing it, pushing to force Marisol backwards, Bison is then ensnared in a cloud of green smoke... and Ayame's distraction seems to have worked, for all that it did; she seeks purchaes with her staff against his throat, and she gets it. The tendons at his throat cord up, as he resists the choke, though he can't hold out initially... he can't even yell, but he can do -something-... he twists left, right, then left again, then HURLS his body around in a spinning twirl, finally throwing Ayame off. The raging bull just gave Ayame a four-second ride... but he's not quite done yet, as he continues his spin forward, suddenly lunging towards Ayame.
Apparently he can track her well enough to know where she's supposed to be after he flings her away, and his yell of rage is, while rough from the choking, no less potent for that. "BITCH!!" he shouts, his voice deep, menacing, dangerous, "You gon' PAY fo' that..." The words come while he's punching, his breath a little labored from the dual efforts of fighting and speaking. "Gonna turn you into PASTE..." he promises...
And so do his fists. Oh, do they promise pain.
COMBATSYS: M.Bison successfully hits Ayame with Dash Straight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
M.Bison 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\====---\1 Ayame
> /////////////// ]
|-------\-------\0 Marisol
Flung clean off of Bison, Ayame's feet barely even have time to touch down before the larger fighter's fists are smashing into her. The warning of his shout is heard, but barely in time to realize that he's coming for her still. One would figure she would recognize her moniker by now, she gets called by it enough! No time to even manage an attempt at defense, Ayame gets to experience some of that pain he's promising, struck in the face hard enough to be sent flying clean off her feet and back into the ropes, only to spring off of them and crash to the mat with a pained gasp, catching herself with her right hand just shy of a full face plant, her left hand still holding onto her staff even after being sent flying. She's loathe to give it up!
"Ugh... okay... I think that got his attention," she mutters, dropping one knee in order to push herself back up slowly, her vision a little unclear at first, not used to being drilled that hard by just a single crushing punch. "I've got a few more tricks for the likes of you," she continues, finally getting her focus back on Bison, spinning her staff around so that the opposite end of it as last time points toward him. "This is where you give up!"
From the end of the hollow weapon another small explosion announces the launching of a wire thin net that expands out as it spans the distance between the featherweight and the giant. The intent, clearly, is to entangle him in the sharp wires long enough for her to charge in for the follow up - a vicious beatdown with that titanium pole, strike after strike, aiming for his head, arms, shoulders, stomach, knees, trying to trip him, smash him down, all in all, a continuous assault intended to take the powerful fighter down for good and spare herself anymore savage punchings!
Just when Marisol thought poor Ayame couldn't face any worse pain, Bison shows her yet another trick as he tosses the poor weapon-toting fighter off his back and delivers a horrible turning punch that crashes into the fighter, punching the girl in the face. Marisol flinches and offers a quiet 'oh damn' in response, her shoulders softly cringing.
"Are you going to be okay?" Marisol wonders, as Ayame picks herself up from the partially-destroyed mat. "I mean, really..?" Fortunately, the weapons girl seems to be in well-enough condition to peel herself up and offer the boxer a few fighting words. Marisol's lips twitch into a ghost of a smirk.
"Show 'em what you've got," the half-Spaniard calls out, as Ayame strikes at the man attempting to beat the senses out of Bison. Her smile grows a touch as she spaces her legs a bit, hands dropping to the front. In her palms a spark ignites, a swell of yellow energy that grows, energy coalescing as she concentrates. And when it reaches the size of a beach ball...the girl's arm reels back before she swings her arm forward, launching the sphere right for Bison.
It's not a boxing move, but hey. She's not TECHNICALLY a pure boxer!
COMBATSYS: M.Bison Toughs Out Ayame's Entrapment!
[ \\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
M.Bison 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=------\-------\0 Ayame
> ////////////// ]
|-------\-------\0 Marisol
COMBATSYS: M.Bison interrupts Rolling Star from Marisol with Gigaton Blow.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
M.Bison 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=------\-------\0 Ayame
> /// ]
|=======\=------\1 Marisol
Pure nuclear force. That is what is contained inside Mike Bison's fists. Hot rage, harnessed into piston-like arms, fists toughened by decades of smashing them into things... This is the essence of being for Mike Bison. He would be hard-pressed to put it so poetically, but he rarely feels more alive than he does when he's in a fight--even a losing fight. He swears to himself--he's going to take one of them with him.
Tricks, she says--and tricks she has. She's moving blindingly fast--faster than most fighters he's fought. So he goes with it. Ayame's strikes hit--but they're turned away by sheer muscle mass, Bison hardening his body against her attack. Stil, she makes him reel--right towards Marisol. Can the two girls -end- this?
Not in this moment. Ayame's last strike pushes Bison back--a successful attempt it seems--and then he turns his body. One might see the savage grin on his face as he suddenly is facing Marisol, the momentum gained from Ayame's striking combination sending him forward--and then his feet touch.
That movement bursts the net off him, and then he's literally plowing, shoulder-first, through that energy ball.
"QUIT PLAYIN' AROUND!!!!" he yells, spittle flying--and then his right hand is cocked back and... and oh, oh Marisol. This is the essence of Bison's strength, the pure core of power he holds... impacting your face at a speed that is too horrible to mention. It's just one punch--it doesn't look, really, any different than most of his punches--but the power, the precision... it's a perfect delivery of his momentum, right into Marisol. It might be a while before she can see properly--this -is- the punch that took down an elephant--and Bison doesn't hold back. Ever.
"Gotcha," Ayame remarks, emboldened by Marisol's encouragement. The staff strikes ringing out, the girl spinning around the entrapped fighter, her position shifting each instant to deliver another blow wherever she can find an opening. Of course she can tell that he's just going to try and endure it out, like a caged bull that refuses to be dealt a finishing blow while entangled in some stupid net.
And then he explodes out of the constraints, the shreaded wire flying everywhere in a small cloud of debris as the elephant killer turns the full power of his punch back around on Marisol. Left in the wake of the attack, Ayame can feel the power behind it. He isn't being propelled by just simple muscle power, but rather all the rage, inner chi, and strength the monster of a fighter can muster. It provokes a cringe from the girl as she hesitates a moment, unclear of what the outcome of the strike is against her unexpectedly cooperative partner for this match.
All she does know is that she needs to try and capitalize on the moment if she's going to avoid a similar fate. Sprinting forward after him, all of her flash from before is replaced by a simple attempt to bludgeon the fighter over the back of the head with her titanium staff. Whipping the weapon back after the attempted slam, she'll risk trying to fling it spinning against his back and catch her weapon on the rebound back, hoping that that'll be the final assualt to drop the frightful Raging Bull.
The last thing Marisol O'Connell expected was this.
In the matter of mere seconds the burst of chi she launched at the boxer is suddenly devoured, as the large man rushes through it and makes his move like an unstoppable freight. And really, there is no time for the girl to properly react; startled, gray eyes go wide as she watches the man's glove-clad fist drives right into the center of her face. A loud CRACK erupts between them as the girl is sent flying back, her prone body colliding clumsily into the ropes a short distance away.
Again.
The girl sags, arms lazily looped around the ropes as she hangs there. For a minute she doesn't move, her head hanging forward and long locks of red hair dangling, obscuring her face from view. Briefly, SNF crew and other officials stare, wondering if the girl is even ALIVE. But then, be it a miracle or sheer stubbornness, the half-Spaniard stirs, her body shivering.
She's...laughing..?
Whipping her head up, the girl's eyes go wide, her bloodied face wracked with morbid glee as she cackles loudly. Untangling herself clumsily from the ropes, the girl staggers forward, feet scuffing against the broken mats as she moves...and moves forward.
"Th-that...was it?? That was it?! Are you FUCKING SERIOUS??!" Oh yeah, she's delirious.
"I've been HIT HARDER! So much harder!! HA HA HA HA!!" Clearly drunken on pain. Gray eyes gloss briefly, her breath ragged as she stumbles a bit further forward, her nose bleeding profusely, leaving a terrible mess on the front of her white hoodie. But she doesn't care. Adrenaline drives the redhead now, and it's adrenaline that gives her a sudden burst of speed, carrying her legs forward, right for Bison with a shrill laugh.
She closes in, attempting to deliver four fierce hook punches before she pauses and coils her body back, her arm tensing incredibly tight. Muscles tense, her knuckles white as she gathers all her strength in her fist...before she releases, lunging forward with a fierce, driving blow to the center of Bison's chest.
...and then, with one last, breathy laugh, the girl falls to her knees, eyes closing before she passes out and lands on her face with a sight. That was good.
COMBATSYS: Marisol can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
M.Bison 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Ayame
COMBATSYS: M.Bison dodges Ayame's Random Strike.
[ \\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
M.Bison 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Ayame
COMBATSYS: M.Bison dodges Marisol's Atom Smasher.
[ \\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
M.Bison 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Ayame
"SHOW ME YOUR MOVES!!"
... yes, some idiot kid somewhere is playing Super Smash Brothers Brawl and doing that damn Captain Falcon taunt over and over again. Fortunately he's not here in the arena...
Bison's proud of his physical strength. To most people, it's the only thing he has. So when Marisol -insults it-... well, we'll just see about that. Bison, however, still has two opponents to deal with in the meantime--and he knows, despite his toughness, he can't quite take a hit, much less two hits. Ayame's combination of strikes... well, Bison's big. But he's also -fast-. Fast enough to duck out of the way, not something he does very often because, well, he'd rather be hitting. But it can be useful, sometimes. Marisol...
He smirks. Facing her down like the toreador instead of the bull, he lets her -think- she's going to hit just for a moment. And then he sideslips around her, lunging forward and grabbing her by the head before she completely passes out. It kind of looks like he's being gentle...
... but he's hissing in her ear. "When you wake up, girlie, you gon' tell me who hit you harder than that. An' I'm gonna wreck their shit, you hear me? Ain't -nobody- punch harder than Bison." (Well, in actuality, several people do, but they're all cheaters, rotten rotten cheaters.) Once she's flat out on the mat--whether she heard him or not--he pushes, casually rolling her body off to the side. Let the medics take care of her, he doesn't give a damn.
Instead, he rises up, cracking his neck again, his dark eyes burning.
"Aight then, girlie... let's see if you can go the distance with me..." Now he doesn't have to worry about dual assaults...
COMBATSYS: M.Bison gains composure.
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
M.Bison 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Ayame
Now that wasn't something she had anticipated at all. The man had demonstrated a remarkable capacity for lunging aggressively, but his ability to get out of the way of the attacks of the two girls had not really been demonstrated much throughout the fight. Ayame flings her staff, the weapon spinning through the air over a remarkably short distance, but it meets with no resistance whatsoever, rebounding against the ropes and dropping to the mat instead. Well, damn.
Ayame hops back, putting distance between her and the destructive force of her opponent. She saw what he just did to Marisol and she isn't really interested in any of that. Her hands reach to the coil of cable she's had draped over her shoulder from the beginning of the fight, slipping it down, the pointed weight at the end of it dangling losely. He turns to face the smaller fighter now that it's just her and he left to fight and Ayame frowns faintly, spinning up the rope dart into a vertical loop at her side. "Nn," is the response he gets back. She seems to be out of things to say with the intent to distract or enrage. At this point the fight has come down to simply her and one hell of a powerful fighter. Either she can last the next few seconds or she can't.
Smiling behind her bloody nose, the girl whistles, "Better pay attention, don't want this fight to be TOO easy!" she remarks, stepping forward, spinning the dart down in front of her and spin kicking the small weight out across the distance between them, aiming to peg Bison right in the center of his forehead. It's time to figure out what she can expect from him now that there's only one attack to contend at a time.
COMBATSYS: M.Bison dodges Ayame's Medium Fling.
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
M.Bison 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Ayame
See... now he's just playing with her. The man grins a little--just a little. Mouthy lil' girl... and Bison's all too ready for her now. He ducks to his right, that weighted implement whistling through the air; before it can even drop on him, he's sidestepping. His grin grows, and so does his confidence. "S'up girl? Where's all that feisty fight now?" He's moving normal speed now, of course, so to speak; not even charging for her. But the reason for that'll be come obvious soon. While finger manipulation is impossible in boxing gloves, grabbing things isn't.
And there just so happens to be something for Bison to grab, right now--Ayame's titanium staff. He hefts it up, coming up out of a mid-crouch, and swings it a couple times. "Hn. Guess it ian't bad for a toy. Here, guess you want it back." He hefts it again, the metal pole flying up about ten feet; Bison steps forward, planting his left leg.
His right hand raised high, glove opened, the staff smacks down into his hand and then he whips that right hand forward, sending the staff flying like a cruise missile.
"SO HERE YA GO!!" It is, certainly, -one- way for her to get her staff back...
COMBATSYS: M.Bison successfully hits Ayame with Large Thrown Object.
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > //// ]
M.Bison 0/-------/---====|=======\-------\1 Ayame
The rope dart whistles past but Ayame's okay with that, nudging the small weight's trajectory in such a way that it comes snapping back in her direction at an angle that will take it casually over her shoulder, leaving her the option of putting it to use further or simply letting go of it and switching to something else entirely.
Fingers manipulate the wire thin cable, the girl getting ready to contend with... not that. Expecting the bull to charge she's met instead with the boxer going after her dropped weapon. Brown eyes blink as she watches from a distance, "Hey, what are-" she starts to snap back, but he answers the question readily, tossing the glinting weapon up into the air then smashes the weapon through the air toward her. The speed isn't of particular concern, she can see it coming easily enough...
The force, on the other hand, is a lot more than she anticipated. Taking a step to the side, snapping her hand out with the intent to deal with the pain the impact is bound to cause, the weapon bashes right on past, spinning around her limb in the process and cracking her hard in the back of the head as it continues right on out of the ring. Hopefully no one nearby gets clipped!
Stumbling forward, one hand coming up to rest against the back of her head, the girl can tell she has no time left to keep fighting. All other plans are thrown out the window as she flicks the rope dart back up off the canvas and sends it flying out at Bison a second time - though this time it comes in with an angular momentum intending to wrap him up as Ayame charges in right behind it.
Dipping low, she scoops up the knife she dropped earlier mid-step, before leaping up at Bison, trying to get in close enough to land a rapid series of slashes, cuts, stabs, and strikes. Whatever she can do to make him bleed and drop him. The endeavor is short lived, however, as the girl's legs will give out before long and her vigorous last ditch attempt will come to an end.
COMBATSYS: Ayame can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\ <
M.Bison 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: M.Bison blocks Ayame's Manslaughter.
[ \\\\\\\\ <
M.Bison 0/-------/--=====|
Yeah, Bison's like an elemental force of nature. But even he can be calm sometimes. It would be hard--impossible--to live life angry -all- the time. (Don't tell Jiro.) And the pleasure he gets from seeing Ayame get bashed in the back of the head by her own staff, plus seeing it clip an unlucky cameraman afterwards, is more than enough to keep him calm.
He admires her tenacity--she has some rather bull-like qualities, herself--and so he doesn't really move as she wraps him up with the rope of that dart. He's sure, after all, that she has -something- in mind... it's pretty amazing that she's got the energy for all this, but Bison puts his boxing skills to work again, defending against that cutting knife, letting it slash him, but not cleanly... she'll make him bleed, of course, but not enough to take him out.
Once the flurry is over, Bison shrugs out of the rope dart, swinging it around clumsily. "The hell is this..." he mutters, before pulling it completely free and dropping it, weight-first, next to Ayame's head.
"I'd tell ya ya did good, but truth is, you were doomed from the beginnin'. You wanna beat the bull, you don't go takin' it by th' horns. Maybe ya learned somethin'." The famous Michael Buffer, recently back from a trip to the world famous Men's Restroom, steps into the ring, now that it's safe.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! THE WINNAH! BY KNOCKOUT! MIKE... BIIIIIIIIIIIISOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!" And that's how the night will end, Bison rising his arms triumphantly, pumping his fists, yelling unintelligibly. The girls will be rushed offstage to be treated by the medics, presumably--they'll need the medical attention.
Log created on 22:34:34 05/02/2008 by M.Bison, and last modified on 14:29:22 05/09/2008.