Description: Drake happens across Zangief, whose sheer animal magnetism means that he cannot resist the opportunity to spar. So they do just that, in secret! And then Kurenai happens across them both! Zangief, enraged at both the possibility that his friends secret lack of burning hatred might be revealed, and at the fact that he's encountered more little girls with strange powers, proceeds to GO ON A RAMPAGE! And at the end, there are even more secret spoilers revealed than just witnessing the fight between Drake and Zangief! So if you don't like spoilers, don't read it!
Barcelona. Spain. The skies are cloudy and overcast, and the sun is nowhere in sight just yet. The temperature has dropped to a bit of a chill though, considering the time of year. A stiff breeze whips through the early morning air, with just the cobalt blues of sunrise edging into the inky blackness of night, lending the clouds a silver lining.
Drake's resolution is to toughen up. To kick his training up another notch, to pick up the slack, to give this Tour his best. There's still plenty of upcoming fights, and each one sounds truly challenging - just the way he'd prefer. And as for this as-yet unnamed representative of Spain? The mystery is enough reason for the teen to push himself harder than ever before.
So the young supermodel is out training against the chill, just as the workers are changing shifts and most of them are moseying out of their homes for the first time today. Not dressed in typical punky attire is he, no. Instead, a baggy hoodie is over his torso, along with a pair of sweats and cross-trainers. He jogs along the sidewalk of a steep hill towards the town center, throwing jabs in the air before himself, each breath puffing out in wispy gray.
Zangief has decided that it would be good for his reputation to spend a little more time in Europe. Training and fighting in Russia, or in Japan... well, that was all very well and good for the primary fighting scene. But it did nothing for his renown amongst the common people! And really, isn't that where he, as a good Russian, should be focusing his efforts? The working men and women of the world!
So it is that he has arranged for a special showing in the middle of the town. Coincidentally, just as Drake is getting to the town center himself! A small crowd of tired looking people has gathered... and there is the sound of ... an angry bull?
Zangief does not look all that concerned. Dressed in his usual red briefs, but with a long flowing red cape as well- to further enrage the bull- the Red Cyclone stands with his arms folded, glaring at the enraged beast, whose trainers can barely hold it back!
"ARE YOU READY?" He booms to the crowd at large, "To witness the TRUE STRENGTH of the amazing RED CYCLONE?!"
Whiff! Whiff!
Punches cut through the air as Drake continues his ascent up the hill, stolid focus on his half-hidden face, thanks to the hood of his shirt. But the odd crowd is enough to give him pause. Something big must be going on for all of them to be up this early! Then again, it's Spain. They're likely a seriously industrious people! Still, it warrants an examination! So Drake, keeping his identity on the down-low as much as his hoodie will permit, nudges his way through a couple spectators.
He was not prepared for the sight.
Zangief, in the good ol' wrestling trunks, facing off against an angry bull. With a cape, no less. How friggin' awesome is that? Can't no one question Zangief's fashion sense, either - he's not wearing one of those Mickey Mouse hats that he's seen in other bullfights. And you can't diss the trunks. Real wrestlers wear their gear everywhere they go.
Stunned as he is, Drake eyes the goings on. Whatever is the Cyclone up to? Will the poor bull be piledriven!?
Zangief grins as the crowd roars its approval, and with the wave of one hand, the bull is set free. The animal is so enraged that it is like watching a bullet rip from a gun. The ground is torn up in a cloud of dust and clods of earth as the poor, doomed bull rockets towards the Russian wrestler. Zangief, for his part, merely squats down, moving his foot back and ...
The bull finds itself literally caught by the horns, and with a grunt he hurls it bodily into the air above him. For a moment, they are suspended in a fabulous tableau, the Red Cyclone holding the bull aloft over his head...
And then with a sudden twist, he drops backwards, and brings the bull in powerful contact with the ground. There is a heavy, meaty thump, and Zangief picks himself up from the floor.
The crowd is silent.
The Red Cyclone's boot treads heavily on the side of the downed animal...
And the crowd goes wild!
Drake is guilty of cheering on the animal brutality as well. But he'd have words with any sissy that dares claim that wasn't the damn manliest thing, ever. But after a few fistpumps and shouts of approval, he quickly clears his throat and restrains himself, tugging his hood a little further around his face to better hide.
It simply wouldn't do for two wrestlers in an upcoming match to seem anything less than absolutely loathing of each other, now would it?
However, that display was certainly enough of a first-person demonstration to verify all the things Drake had seen on television of Zangief, as well as heard about. And considering their meeting, he seemed like a pretty decent guy. Err, the hype for their match aside and all. He'd definitely like to have a chat with the guy. But the crowd could be an issue. It all falls back on the 'supposed to be bloodthirsty' image, even if Domino's known for being an all around pleasant guy when outside the ring. In this case, it would be a matter of pride - an exception to the rule!
Drake frowns, despite himself. He could be toying with these notions all day and accomplish absolutely nothing. So he decides to bite the bullet and just see what happens. The crowd might call him on it, especially if they figure out who he is, or they could trundle on their way and make things easier. Either way, here goes!
Drake breaks from the mainstay of the crowd to approach the manbeast in Captain Morgan pose, hood still drawn up. "Quite the display there, big guy. Quite the display," he compliments as subtly as he can manage, trying to keep his head turned at a discreet angle away from Zangief.
Zangief is eating up the adoration of the crowd, until he is approached by a mysterious hooded figure. The large man turns around to face Drake a bit more fully. Looming over the smaller man, he squints. He was sure he recognized that voice from somewhere... but he couldn't quite place where. And he couldn't make out the details of his face. This could, therefore, only mean one thing: This was someone who Knew Things.
Zangief wasn't sure what sort of things this person Knew about, precisely. But he was busily involved in so many little things- like smashing up drug rings and tracking down murderers- that he was sure this man was here to tell him something important. Or to put him on another, important, trail!
So he growls his response, crossing his arms back over his chest, and letting his impressive cloak-flapping set the mood properly.
"That was nothing compared to what the Red Cyclone can do when he puts his mind on it, comrade! How may I help you, hmmm?"
"Well, that's the question, isn't it?" Drake considers just how to approach it, having said that. The crowd's not being a merciful one, after all. So he'll try to maneuver around them! Paparazzi might be an issue, but whatever. Cross that bridge when they come to it.
"Actually, I was wondering if you have a moment to spare. You know, out of the limelight," Drake suggests. "Maybe find a bull ring that's nice'n vacant, or a gym?" Somewhere people won't get all eyebrow-quirky at him for talking to Zangief all non-threatening, or where they won't spoil what's bound to be a solid, spectacular fight with previews!
"Whaddaya say?"
Drake's head turns just a hint towards Zangief, letting the sun's rays now just peeking over the tops of the buildings to illuminate a portion of his smooth face.
Zangief raises a brow at that, and then smirks. "If that is what you want, Comrade." He rumbles. Straightening up fully, he just begins to... shoulder his way through the crowd. Not renowned for his pleasant and sociable nature, after all, Zangief has no qualms about just barging his way forwards and through in the direction he wishes to go.
And with that, his manager and various PR people begin to disperse the crowd. Obviously the big russian wanted to be alone with this mysterious hooded figure. And one of the first things Zangief's managers learned was to respect his wishes for privacy. Which is how he knows the way to an old, abandoned bull ring. And one which he can throw the doors open to. Just a little place to come and train himself whilst he was in town, it seemed like it would fit the bill perfectly!
Perfectly, indeed! Just what Drake had hoped for! So when the doors re flung open, he stands taken aback momentarily. Heck, Zangief knows his way around Barcelona a lot better than him, apparently! He moves in after him, and draws the doors shut afterwards.
Finally alone, Drake turns around and draws the hood back, revealing his face in full. "Finally," he sighs in relief. "Sorry for the cloak'n dagger routine. Gotta make sure the people don't think something's up with our future match, and not spoil the awesomeness that'll come to be!"
Drake steps forward, moving to Zangief's side in the entryway. "Don'cha agree? Gotta keep'em in anticipation."
Zangief strides to the center of the arena before he turns around to face Drake full on. Taking off the cloak, at last. It was ... suitable for the previous occasion, but such things aren't really -him-. Besides, in an actual fight, having a long flowing piece of material draped around his shoulders was just going to get in his way.
"You are... Drake, yes?" He replies, nodding solemnly. He remembered now, and the secrecy made a certain amount of sense. "I am assuming that you wish to test yourself before the big fight?" He rumbles, stretching his shoulders lightly. "I should warn you, my friend. You have challenged the full power of Mother Russia... I will not be holding back!"
"Little more than that, to be honest," Drake says as he moves out to the central arena. "I'm trying to toughen up for these fights, including the one against you. Really wantin' to amp up my workout and training regime. So I thought..." The young warrior pauses his train of thought, second-guessing his approach.
"Maybe a test is in order first," he nods. "And I'd really hope you don't hold back on me. Just bring it on." Drake tilts his head to the left and right, each motion eliciting a pop of the vertabrae. "Mmh."
His hands lift, and an impish smile settles over his lips. The fingers wiggle. "Come'n get me."
Well, never let it be said that Zangief is hesitant to inflict horrible, horrible pain upon people who want to challenge him. In a way, though, he can respect the younger fighters zeal. He was just trying to learn so that he could toughen himself up... and that was fair enough. Zangief himself had done his training in a far harder way, of course, and his body bore all the scars to prove it. But wrestling bears in the depths of Siberia is not really for everyone, and if one was going to learn how to fight... well. He could respect -anyone- willing to take that challenge right to the top.
Which is, naturally, where Zangief sits.
"Very well!" He declares, cracking his knuckles, the large man steps forwards, and in a sudden, lurching motion, his booted foot comes swinging up, intending to plant itself powerfully in Drake's chest, and send him crashing to the floor. Slow it might be, but the power behind that blow is undeniable... which will be just as obvious even if Drake manages to evade the blow, as the ground will crash with the force as Zangief steadies himself instead. A test, really, to see what Drake would -do- when faced with such an attack.
COMBATSYS: Zangief has started a fight here.
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Zangief 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Drake has joined the fight here.
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Drake 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Zangief
COMBATSYS: Drake counters Strong Kick from Zangief with Solar Eclipse.
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Drake 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Zangief
The difference, however, is Drake's purpose behind this. Training, indeed... but in a way different from his norm'. Rather than attempt to weave around the attack, he moves right into it. He's fully aware that this is likely to get him hurting in a lot of ways, but that's all a part of toughening up! Hard to get tough if you never have to deal with punishment!
The huge boot lunges for his chest, and Drake maneuvers just outside of the strike and into Zangief's personal space. One arm hooks under the knee, while the other grabs Zangief by the unreasonably huge shoulder. Utilizing the momentary lack of balance, Drake yanks back to reverse the momentum and flip the mighty Russian over, driving his back down firmly against the ground underneath his own comparatively small, but lean body in a powerslam.
Following the hit, Drake attempts to get out of Dodge with a simple forward roll to end back on his feet. He hops to turn around quickly, smile no longer present on his face. His feet spread a little, hands lifting and fingers splayed at the ready for another grapple. "C'mon! Gimme all you've got, Zangief!"
Zangief is quite surprised by the incredible skill demonstrated by his nimble opponent. He crashes to the ground painfully, and it is with a heavy grunt that the large man rolls himself up and back onto his feet. Shaking his head to clear it of the momentary shock. He had truly not expected that! But, no matter. He would just have to make sure he was a bit more careful next time.
"Don't get cocky!" He bellows in reply, hands balling up into tight, meaty fists. He knows precisely how to respond to this situation... after all, the boy may be able to grab him when he kicks ponderously slow... but could he hope to do the same to this?!
"You face... THE RED CYCLONE!"
And with that booming declaration, he throws himself forwards, spinning with those massive fists stretched out all the way, aiming to smash into Drake painfully, in a firm demonstration of spinning prowess!
COMBATSYS: Drake blocks Zangief's Double Lariat.
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Drake 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Zangief
Cocky? Drake wouldn't think cocky so much as anxious to see what all Zangief can dish out, and how much he can force himself to handle. Just the kind of endurance training Drake was looking for. And when Zangief gets up with a roar, he's very pleased - the Cyclone's not gonna pull any punches with him.
The fists spin, and Drake moves his arms inwards to take the brunt of the blow against the forearms. "UNF!" The impact is enough to stagger the model back a few steps, but he keeps himself level-headed and sure-footed enough to launch a counter attack. He closes in with the much larger wrestler and attempts to lock up with him fresh from the spin, hoping for a lack of balance on his end after his assault. If caught, he drives his left knee up repeatedly towards the man's midsection to loosen up his defenses. Following this, he attempts to tuck Zangief's head under his left arm, right hand setting to his hip to hoist his body into the air upside-down in vertical suplex position. But rather than drop back to slam him down immediately, Drake grunts and hops into the air with Zangief, twisting aside to drive him down onto his back again with himself landing crossbody overtop him in a suplex powerslam!
COMBATSYS: Zangief interrupts Flashbang from Drake with Banishing Flat.
*KNOCKED AWAY*
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Drake 0/-------/-======|===----\-------\0 Zangief
Suddenly, Zangief finds himself being repeatedly kneed in the chest. Grunting, the large man doesn't even try to defend himself, however. The blows smash against his midsection, until, as Drake moves to grab his head, the large man pivots around suddenly, swinging his fist as he does so. There is a swirl of green energy, and he literally smashes the younger fighter back and away, throwing him a fair distance across the arena with the force of the blow. After which he crouches down, narrowing his eyes to take up his familiar stance.
"Good. But your technique needs work. You must grab quicker! You will not throw a wrestler if you leave yourself so open!" He shouts, appraising the boy. There was a lot of potential there... if he had used just a few less kicks and grabbed for his head sooner, he wouldn't have been able to deal with the technique so easily.
The fist drives into Drake's chest, and he's thus hit more soundly than he's ever really experienced before. Hard enough to clear several feet from Zangief, body thumping against the ground and rolling a few more feet still. He comes to a stop face-up, groaning. That definitely hurt... but it's why he wanted to do this.
Drake pushes himself up onto his elbows and looks over to Zangief. the stoic expression breaks momentarily into a half-grin, giving him an upturned thumb of approval. Not that he doubted Zangief could land a solid blow - it's just that it was a really good hit. But then Drake curls back onto his shoulders and kips up to his feet again, standing at the ready.
Grab quicker. Less open. These bits of advice are filed away for the time being. A hand lifts to set to his chest where he was struck a moment ago, feeling nothing more than a dull ache. He's bound to feel it a heck of a lot more later, but for now, it's almost numb. Convenient enough for him, though.
Suddenly, Drake is rushing across the arena towards Zangief. Oddly enough, a sparkling white mirror image of Drake separates from the physical entity, chasing with a second's lag behind him. When the distance is closed, the physical Drake attempts to maneuver in behind Zangief to grab him around the midsection. If caught, he bridges his back to drive the huge man's head against the ground behind him in a German suplex. He then rolls over the downed Russian to haul him up for a second chained suplex, and then a third! The 'shadow' Drake mimics each movement until it catches Drake a second later holding Zangief in suplexed position, where it then melds into the ground beneath the manbear.
Promptly, the ground explodes in a pillar of gushing white energy just as Drake releases, hoping to blast the man into the air.
COMBATSYS: Zangief blocks Drake's Whiteout.
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Drake 0/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Zangief
Zangief narrows his eyes. He hates tricks like this. It always made it difficult to decide what to do, exactly. So, he decides to concentrate on the physical Drake. Though he is lifted up, with each impact, muscles ripple and tense, there just... isn't enough force to really get through to the huge man, as he rolls and shifts to take it on his shoulders and back each time. With the final one, he breaks out, rolls, and ...
Then the world explodes.
Blinking, he shakes his body down. There isn't any advice offered this time- no. Zangief could probably help with the physical portion of that, but where did the distraction start and the real move begin? It was all very confusing.
So he decides to solve this confusing problem like he does with most things he doesn't understand. By hitting it. Hard.
One heavy fist lashes out to strike Drake in the chest, intending to force the smaller fighter to topple over, before he will scoop him up, and literally throw him, hard, into the ground. Not the most elegant technique, perhaps, but what it lacks in elegance it makes up for in effectiveness.
COMBATSYS: Drake fails to counter Combo Throw from Zangief with Star Breaker.
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Drake 1/----===/=======|===----\-------\0 Zangief
Drake can feel a lack of control in the move he's attempting on Zangief, and it'll be something he needs to work on more. It -is- one of his newer honed techniques, though. Fine tuning is to be expected! That being said, when he turns around after the geyser of energy, panting softly, the last thing he expects to see is a meaty fist barreling towards his chest. When it slams into his chest, it ploughs the remainder of his breath out and floors him, leaving him completely helpless to the follow-up.
Drake is scooped up.
Drake meets the ground again.
Wham.
Body thoroughly rattled by the rather graceless landing, the young supermodel writhes on his back before managing to twist himself over onto his side. He begins coughing, trying desperately to draw breath back in. Better reaction speed is the name of the game here. No dallying. Keep the heat on, keep focused, and... force the pain out of his mind. Pain does the body good in the long run. Just have to focus it out.
It's amazing, really, what one finds if one just... explores. Spain is a beautiful country, both in its ruralities and its urbanities. There's a certain... something to it. Kurenai appreciates it. After all, why wouldn't she? Of course this is a school trip, but what is a school trip without playing hooky?
She'd spent the day wandering around the city--Barcelona is a wonderful place--and just after lunchtime... just after she'd sated her desire for sweet things with yet another bowl of hot chocolate and churros (forget 'healthy' meals... she's a growing girl, she needs calories!) she'd heard... something. Something familiar and strange.
For someone of her size, it's no big thing to sneak around, even in a schoolgirl uniform, and she's pretty good at being quiet. That said, she's found herself a good seat--shaded, so as to be stealthy, and not -too- close... and she's watching the contest, what she can, avidly.
Zangief remains entirely unaware of the unannounced spectator... which is probably a good thing, because he isn't known for being all that restrained when it comes to people violating his privacy. Even if they are schoolgirls! He's just that horrible, really. Luckily, he's also not particularly renowned as a perceptive or aware person, especially in the middle of a fight. Someone could set a bomb off in the stadium and there would only be about a fifty per cent chance of him actually noticing.
Instead, he looms over Drake, and stomps his feet into the ground. "COME ON! Get up!" He roars, punching his fist into his palm heavily. "Show me what you can do! You'll have to do better than that, or you won't be walking out of this ring, let alone any others!"
COMBATSYS: Zangief gathers his will.
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Drake 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\0 Zangief
Drake is most assuredly unaware of a spectator. It's what he was hoping to avoid by suggesting a more discreet location, after all. Such a thing could ruin all the anticipation of their upcoming match or, worse yet, find that there isn't really any true animosity between them! It'd just be awful!
So fortunately for the schoolgirl, Drake's in way too much pain and entirely too focused on the fight to pay a lick of attention to his surroundings.
But Zangief's goading, the challenging, is enough to urge him to get back up. And this is something he can appreciate. It's an additional drive to push himself, to force the pain out of his mind. So gritting his teeth, the young wrestler pushes himself up onto hands and knees, then up to his full height again. Without hesitation, but clearly hurting at this point, he attempts to promptly grab ahold of Zangief's head under his left arm. If successfully caught, he drops back to the ground to drive the top of Zangief's head against the ground behind him in a stiff DDT.
COMBATSYS: Drake successfully hits Zangief with Medium Throw.
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Drake 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\1 Zangief
Zangief stands ready, prepared to roll with the blow as it comes in, he manages to misjudge his opponent completely! Rolling into the grab, his eyes go wide for a moment as he realizes his mistake. If he was in a better state of mind, he might be able to see the irony in the situation; that he had been lecturing the boy... only for him to slip up, and the younger fighters speed to take him by surprise, and result in his head coming into harsh contact with the floor.
Unfortuantely, he's not in a better state of mind. He's /angry/. Mostly with himself, true, but where better to direct his anger than his opponent!
So rather than act logically, Zangief, after he hits the floor, suddenly /leaps/ up, massive hands grabbing in an attempt to scoop Drake up around the ribs, and /SQUEEZE/ with as much might as he can muster. Literally intending to crush the life out of his opponent.
COMBATSYS: Zangief successfully hits Drake with Stomach Claw.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
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Drake 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\===----\1 Zangief
Wh--that--of course Kurenai recognizes Zangief. Big Russian wrestler is pretty well-known. Drake... looks familiar, but she can't quite place him. Of course, now she might be placing him under the obituaries... it was a good takedown that Drake made, but Zangief's response... primal fury personified. She does let out a little sympathetic squeak as Zangief seeks to crush Drake's ribs--hopefully the other wrestler can handle it!
Kurenai feels a little bad, but this isn't her fight to interfere in. She knows how she'd feel if someone just jumped in on one of her fights. Not that anyone would, but that's beside the point. So instead she just rocks forward a little, a frizz of cotton-candy pink hair visible in a crescent of light as she watches all the more intently.
Drake rolls out from under Zangief following the DDT, right arm resting across his upturned knee. Still panting, the supermodel starts to pull himself up to his feet... only Zangief is up much, much quicker. And grabbing Drake as though he were no more than a babydoll.
Crunch.
Drake's not usually one to buckle under submission holds. If there's one thing he knows how to flow with, it's the technical side of wrestling. He can flow with the best of them, reverse holds, work around them, chain them on.. they've never been a big hassle for him and his MMA-esque style of wrestling. But this one?
It elicits a scream of pain from Drake. Sometimes it just doesn't pay to have a slender, sleek body.
Eyes squeezed shut to force back the pain as best he can, hands setting to Zangief's meaty mitts to attempt prying himself loose, the younger blitzer struggles viciously. "G-gaahh!" His legs kick frantically, body twisting as much as it can without agonizing himself more. Finally, Drake manages to wrench himself to the side while pressing a thumb into the softer section of Zangief's wrist to press on a pressure point, easing the grip enough to force himself free.
Doesn't mean he lands with grace, however. Instead, Drake lands in a heap, almost collapsing completely with shuddered, almost wheezing breaths. It's nothing short of a miracle that he picks himself back up and sets himself into his stance again, snarling at Zangief - not with malice, but with determination.
Because of this, the schoolgirl goes unnoticed, despite her squeak and new positioning under the light.
Drake throws himself forward, attempting to lock up with Zangief. Those alluring amethyt eyes are now wide, wild and passionate for the fight, every aching muscle in his body pumping with adrenaline to overpower the reputedly world's strongest man, if even for a moment. And should he succeed in his truly ambitious endeavor, Zangief will find himself being forced into a bent position, neck locked between Drake's legs. His arms then hook around Zangief's midsection to hoist the man upside-down into piledriver position. The arms then pump more, gripping in against Zangief's midsection in a rapidly increasing vicegrip, applying an inverted bearhug. Once he's crunched down as tight as he can humanly achieve on the huge wrestler, Domino locks te hold on and launches himself into the air with his opponent. As they ascend, the two draw into a series of forward flips, picking up speed along the way. By the time the two have reached the pinnacle of Drake's considerable ascent into the air, they've become a singular blur of motion...
...Which is doomed to end with Zangief's head smashing against the ground with the finale of the piledriver, backed up with the elevation of the jump and the insane momentum built up from the spinning.
COMBATSYS: Zangief endures Drake's Total Eclipse.
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Drake 0/-------/---====|=======\=====--\1 Zangief
Zangief narrows his eyes as Drake falls to the floor, and he steps back himself. Lips curl up into a sneer. "More, Comrade!" He urges, delighting in the snarl from the younger fighter. "Show me what you can do!"
And so it is that Zangief does not try to roll with the attack, nor get out of its way. Instead, his eyes go wide as he finds himself forced back, and then flying into the air! Spinning and blurring, Zangief is taken back to that moment, long ago, when he decided on his own style... when he learned what it was to be the Red Cyclone!
The impact is incredible, the center of the ring cracks and breaks under its force, but... it isn't over yet! Zangief is actually bleeding from the blow, a cut running down the center of his forehead. But even that power... was not enough to stop the Red Cyclone! And he would not disgrace Drake by pretending that it was!
"HAHA!" Zangief cries, coming up from the ground incredibly fast. The Red Cyclone does not stop, and he intends to capitalize on the fact that, for one moment after the move, Drake was within his arms reach... "Very good, comrade! VERY GOOD!"
His hands snatch for Drake's collar, and if he can make it, he will swing the boy up over his head. "But now... It is time I finished this! See the power of glorious Mother Russia!"
And, because his muse was telling him there was only one way to follow up such a fantastic, spinning technique, Zangief intends to tuck Drake's head between his knees, and leap into the air.
Compared to the frantic blur both fighters had been but moments before, the spinning is almost serene. A wide, sweeping corkscrew that ends as Zangief brings them down in another part of the arena, in a second, powerful, crashing impact.
"SCREW PILEDRIVER!"
COMBATSYS: Zangief successfully hits Drake with Screw Piledriver.
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Drake 1/------=/=======|=======\=======\1 Zangief
Hurting and worn down as he is, Drake has little chance to do anything resistant to Zangief's grab. His hands set to his wrists to attempt fending him off, but the vast majority of his strength fueled the Total Eclipse - something mos opponents don't last through at all. It's certainly testimony to Zangief's durability, how fast he sprang up from that hit.
But that, for now, is in the back of his mind. The youth in the hoodie is hoisted off his feet and turned over, placed into piledriver position. All he can really do, locked down as he is, is set his hands to Zangief's legs to try and pry his head free before impact. But the opposite swirling motion sufficiently dizzies the model enough to prevent any and all chances of preventing full impact.
The head is driven against the ground soundly, and Drake's body spasms from the impact. He then falls limp.
He's taken his hits this fight. Exactly the kind of training he expected to get out of this.. and it's not been a disappointment. Once his wounds heal up, he's sure his body will be better for it. It can ration out pain better.. muscles won't weaken so easily. But... he can't let Zangief end this fight thinking he's weak. So with the last ounces of strength, Drake draws himself free from Zangief and up to his feet.
The youth wobbles a little, amethyst eyes unfocused, but still with a determined look. His hands lift at the ready, and he moves in, attempting to grab ahold of the Russian from behind. His left leg moves to set over Zangief's left leg, setting his foot between his boots. He ducks his upper body benenath Zangief's right arm, extending his left arm along Zangief's shoulders. He pulls himself upright and twists aside, attempting to apply a tight abdominal stretch hold. With his free hand, he dives the fingers against the massive Russian's abdomen in a tight stomach claw of his own, attempting to clench on the muscles painfully and maybe get a tap out before his body gives out completely.
COMBATSYS: Drake can no longer fight.
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Zangief 1/=======/=======|
She may have missed some of the match... but what she -has- seen has been, well... it's been epic, to say the least. She got to see Drake's Total Eclipse--and she got to see the famous Screw Piledriver. It was an awesome thing to see. She can't help but let out a girlish cheer at the spectacle that she happened upon!... and then she realizes she -did- cheer. Oops.
Quick as a flash she's moving, not gone, just relocating... hopefully the two wrestlers either didn't hear or are still occupied. Near a door now, she's just looking back to make sure she doesn't miss anything, but should one of the two notice her (okay, only Zangief is probably going to be in any position to possibly do so) she'll book it. 'cuz cheese it, it's the fuzz if they catch her. Not that she's particularly worried about getting away...
COMBATSYS: Zangief dodges Drake's Sterling Stretch.
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Zangief 1/=======/=======|
COMBATSYS: Kurenai has joined the fight here.
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Kurenai 0/-------/-------|=======\=======\1 Zangief
Zangief -does- hear that girlish cheer, and his response is simple. Almost distracted, he ducks around the side of Drake's grab. Looking around for the source of the noise... and when he finds it, his eyes narrow. A schoolgirl! Bah! Always, annoying young women found their ways into his private areas, and always it annoyed him! More annoying still, is the realization that, trying to pay attention to what could have been an annoying situation, he had twisted around and out of the way of Drake's last gambit!
BAH!
With an annoyed grunt, he scoops Drake up, and bellows across the arena: "YOU! STOP!"
And with that, he /flings/ Drake at Kurenai, and breaks into a run. Intending to plough his way up after her whilst, hopefully, she has to get out from underneath Drake.
Drake's final attempt to prove he's a Bad Dude to Zangief puffs up in smoke. Zangief appears to just casually side-step him! He's perfectly aware of his body all but giving out on him right now, but he'd hoped he could out-maneuver the big lug. Alas. It's not to be.
Instead, there's a girlie noise nearby. Wha? He tried to get away from spectators! Not that Drake wants this to be the result of their epic battle for the World Tour, but people could consider this spoilers!
Drake, however, doesn't have a chance to be diplomatic or anything. In fact, his whole purpose of fighting Zangief is all but robbed in one fell swoop. He's grabbed like a bad puppy, and promptly flung across the arena haphazardly at... a girl? With pink hair?
"Gaaahhh!"
It's all he -can- do at this point. Too much pain to focus it out right now, too weak from giving the fight his all... and this is what he gets for it.
COMBATSYS: Kurenai reflects Large Thrown Object from Zangief with Devil's Return.
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Kurenai 0/-------/-------|=======\=======\1 Zangief
N--noticed! Maybe she shoulda worked more on that whole 'ninja stealth' thing instead of her math. But... then she wouldn't be able to do... -this-! Poor Drake. Tossed like a human missile, probably headfirst, he doesn't deserve what happens next. See, Kurenai may look like a little girl but she is a little bit more; neither of the fighters might've seen the yardstick slung across her back.
But they'll see it now--as Kurenai draws it, like a sword... and the weapon glows, as she slashes outwards... catching Drake right in the shoulder. The impact reverses his trajectory, flinging the young model right back at Zangief.
For an eternal moment... Kurenai considers the cut-and-run. But maybe... maybe this just might be even more interesting than running! So instead... she moves forward a little, giving herself some room to move.
COMBATSYS: Zangief endures Kurenai's Reflected Large Thrown Object.
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Kurenai 0/-------/-------|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Zangief
Zangief narrows his eyes. Why? WHY does everyone use such insane powers these days?! Suddenly, the girl has managed to use... is that... a stick? A stick?! She's used a STICK to throw his erstwhile companion/punching bag right back at him. And Zangief doesn't even slow. He didn't know who the girl was... but he knew enough just from seeing her throw Drake back at him that he was going to have to have a SERIOUS word with her parents.
Drake hits him right in the face, and aside from shrugging his shoulders to the side, he doesn't let it slow him down for all that long. Instead, heavy, red boots pound the ground... and he leaps forwards. If Kurenai had thought how Zangief looked when he crushed Drake was scary... this must be downright terrifying.
His hands snatch out to grab the little girl, and haul her up over his head. There are no words, no negotiation, no ... time to explain herself. If he can get his hands on her, Kurenai's world is about to become a lot more painful.
First, there is a slam into the ground, and then another as he sweeps her into the stands, using her to batter aside a set of chairs. Before he lifts her back up over his head, squeezing much, much tighter before he leaps up into the air, spinning, to piledrive her back into the stands. His boots shatter the cheap wooden seats... as, in fact, will her skull.
Before, at last, the combo is completed by a powerful, overarm hurl, which aims to fling her all the way back into the middle of the arena... with Zangief between her and the door.
...and at that point, whether he's actually managed to grab her or not, he'll look back to where Drake lays.
"COMRADE! Are you alright?!"
Drake wanted to test his durability and strain against pain, and that's precisely what he's getting. The stick smacks against him, reversing his trajectory and sending him on a humiliating crash-course with Zangief. And he becomes like a wet washcloth, slapping against Zangief's face and curling around with a *spak*. Hell, Drake even has the X's for eyes at this point. With his damn tongue hanging out.
But just like a damp washcloth, Drake is shed and flopped onto the ground on his back. Though still conscious, the young supermodel writhes weakly, eyes squeezed shut. Normally, he'd suggest them to stop.. but he can't collect his thoughts enough to say anything. He's having a hard enough time just hanging on. He'll definitely have to make sure he's not actually injured after this ordeal. Pain? Yeah, he's got plenty of that to work through now. Surely anything else will be naught compared to this.
COMBATSYS: Kurenai blocks Zangief's Ultimate Atomic Buster.
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Kurenai 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Zangief
Wh... whoa! Big dude's moving a lot faster than she thought he would... of course, she -did- choose to stay. That is a decision she may regret--as she's grabbed by the hulking Russian. She manages to keep a grip on her weapon--so precious to her--and she uses her weapon to protect her head throughout the massive smashing and piledrivering... doing what she can to soften the blows, to roll with them...
When she's flung, she still lands in a heap, rolling twice before she stands back up. Y... yow. Ow. Ow god. She didn't want -this-...! But now... now she -has- to fight. Despite her fear--and she -is- feeling fear--she's also feeling that thread of excitement that spurs fighters on. So she assumes her stance, the 'blade' of her yardstick held up at shoulder level, point aimed for Zangief, and, as Zangief turns to check on Drake...
She waits, and watches. It would be utterly foolhardy to attack Zangief all out.
COMBATSYS: Kurenai calculates her next move.
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Kurenai 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Zangief
Zangief grits his teeth, taking in Drake... and then points his finger in a jabbing motion towards Kurenai. He narrows his eyes, and /bellows/. "ALRIGHT. You better get ready!" He roars, kicking his way back into clear ground, and assuming his usual, semi-crouched stance. "I don't know what you are doing here... but after what you did to my friend, I'm going to break you in half!" Yes. That's right Zangief. /She/ hurt Drake. Not the massive fight that had occurred beforehand! And, of course, calling him your friend was only going to cement the point of doing this fight in a secluded location!
... nobody has ever accused Zangief of being smart.
"THAT'S RIGHT, GIRLY! YOU ARE FIGHTING THE /RED CYCLONE/ NOW!"
COMBATSYS: Zangief gathers his will.
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Kurenai 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Zangief
... blink, blink. What =she=...
"What =I= did?!?" she yelps, sounding suitably indignant.
"What do you mean what =I= did?!? YOU were the one who tossed him at me, what did you expect me to do, just get hit?!? HMPH!" Yeah, this is a losing battle, just looking at the size of him... Kurenai's lips set into a disapproving frown. DISAPPROVING!! And since Zangief's yelling at her... she decides she might as well 'go'.
To that end, she suddenly darts forward, closing in on Zangief, her blade at the ready--as she gets within range (and really, who -wants- to get in range of Zangief?!?) she thrusts her yardstick-blade outwards three times, once high, once mid-level, and then once low--on Zangief this translates roughly to mid-chest, bellybutton, and into a thigh. Each strike is empowered by chi--a bright pink-white chi. Very cheery.
COMBATSYS: Kurenai successfully hits Zangief with Demon Flurry.
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Kurenai 0/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Zangief
Zangief is not amused. Not at all. Completely ignoring the accusation that he might, in some way, be mildly responsible for Drake's current condition. He grits his teeth, fumbling, he aims to smack aside that stabbing yardstick, but winds up getting thoroughly stabbed. Clearly annoyed by this, he growls, and lunges forwards. One massive fist balled up, he swings it around, and aims to plant it, with as much strength as he can, in the side of Kurenai's face.
Regardless of whether the blow hits or not, he'll be shouting again soon enough. Clearly angered by the amount of resistance the girl was putting up- not to mention the fact that she was using /energy/ as well. Why did they always do that? Little girls and energy... two of the things Zangief hates more than anything else.
"HOLD STILL!" He roars, "What ... WHY are you hitting me with a STICK? What is WRONG with you?!"
Drake manages a quiet groan and tries to roll over. He fails. But he did get the groan, at least! "D-don't.. kill.. her..," he rasps weakly. The eyes open, hazy and unfocused still. Sure, becoming a human 'pong ball sucked, but Zangief is crazy strong. Really, Drake knows. Just look at him!
But what this really means is that what Drake had intended to talk to Zangief about is not going to happen. Not now. Too many distractions, he's hurt a little too much to even stand on his own two feet, and with the girl listening in, she could run and tell all the other fans! It'd be dreadful!
COMBATSYS: Kurenai dodges Zangief's Fierce Punch.
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Kurenai 0/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Zangief
"Hold -still-? Are you crazy?!?" Well of course he is, he's Zangief. The swinging fist is... well, it's ducked. Because she's not crazy, except that she's going up against The Red Cyclone, a man who is insanely strong and big. Did we mention big? He's very big.
Drake's concern is touching, but she doesn't mention it right now. She backs away, quickly, taking a quick five steps back... and as she goes, she shifts her stance. Her weapon moves from the raised position to being slung across her back...
And then she takes three steps forward and leaps. As she goes, she hurls her body into a turning twist, and then she's slashing outwards with the blade--and as she does, the wooden blade flares again with that pink chi, as she sends it flying down for Zangief's face!
COMBATSYS: Zangief endures Kurenai's Fierce Strike.
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Kurenai 0/-------/=======|=======\===----\1 Zangief
Zangief is getting more and more angry the longer this fight goes on. The Red Cyclone is, unfortunately, just a bit too enraged to really pay attention to Drake's frail cry. Instead, he was more focused on beating the ever loving hell out of Kurenai. Which is exactly what he intends to do next, as he doesn't try to get out of the way of the block, but instead, takes it full on into the face, and then he -GRABS-.
And if he manages to grab, he'll begin laying waste to the surrounding area with her again. This time, in a more focused manner. He lifts the girl up over his head, gripping her by the shoulder and legs, and twists before he falls back against the stairs. Scooping her up, and leaping into the air in a long, spinning arc. Again, he crashes into the stands. Again, he swings her around like a rag doll, but this time, there is a second impact with the stairs, which throws up a huge cloud of dust and splinters.
"STAY. DOWN!"
COMBATSYS: Zangief knocks away Kurenai with Ultimate Atomic Buster!
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Kurenai 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|-------\-------\0 Zangief
Wh--again?!? She has no defense this time... Zangief savages her with his grip, swings her around like a ragdoll... tosses her away. Suddenly she's not looking so good... bruised and pained, to say the least... and a little incoherent. She slaps her face twice, hard, to wake herself up. "Nngh... you like beatin' up on lil' girls huh... Mr. 'Red Cyclone'...?" After all, what did she do, exactly, besides watch the fight? This is not exactly a provoked attack...
And now she rushes at Zangief, with the last of her ability, the last of her consciousness, her body working on instinct and muscle memory. She charges at him, intending to lead with her shoulder... and then she attacks. A flurry of attacks, stabbing with her wooden blade, kicking, the blade empowered with chi again...
And the final attack she makes throughout the combo is a two-handed stab upwards into Zangief's chest, with an even brighter flare of her chi. That is, if she manages to hit... And then she'll collapse. Because being Ultimate Atomic Bustered is quite enough to actually knock her unconscious.
COMBATSYS: Kurenai can no longer fight.
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Zangief 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Zangief fails to interrupt Devil Dancing from Kurenai with Double Lariat.
- Power fail! -
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Zangief 0/-------/-----==|
Zangief is incredibly angry that the girl /dares/ to get up after taking his most powerful attacks twice ... small girls. They seemed to be the very bane of his existence! And so it is that he lunges forwards, fists spinning, to meet her as she comes at him....
And he impales himself on the chi-infused blade. Staggered, he stumbles over backwards, losing his balance and taking blow after stabbing, slashing blow. She drives back the Red Cyclone, and, though it pains him to admit it, there is -nothing- he can do to defend himself against it.
The final stab literally throws him back up the stairs, and he picks himself up, painfully. Hanging on by a thread, the Red Cyclone hauls himself up to his full height, and glares down at the girl. And then back at where Drake lays. And then back at the girl.
"You..." He breathes, hard. "Had... better... explain yourself ... or... I ... Am ... going... to..." He raises one meaty hand, then. "DO... ... SOMETHING."
That's telling her, Zangief!
Drake has had a little while to regain some of his over-spent energy and collect himself. It isn't much of an improvement, and the pain is still wracking his body, but it's enough for him to push out of his mind for the time being. He twists onto his side, then pushes himself to a knee. His head hangs, bangs shadowing his eyes for a few moments.
"Z-Zangief...," he finally manages. Drake's head lifts, peering at the Red Cyclone. "Don't hurt'er anymore. Look at'er... she's down." He turns his gaze to the girl briefly, then back to the huge muscleman. "Don't.. kill'er." It was worth re-iterating. "..Wanted to ask you something.. anyway.. if she's out.. convenient for us."
Fortunately, she's not out long--Zangief did do a massive amount of damage, but she was doing okay before that. She does, however, 'play dead'--she has no wish to face Zangief again, not under these circumstances. So she holds as limp and still as she can, keeping her eyes closed...
It isn't that she wants to spy, she just doesn't see how she can get out of here safely--Zangief, with his misguided anger, will just attack her again...
Zangief hmphs. Straightening up, he seems to be recovering a bit. Looking down at the girl... she's not getting up, and that, hopefully, would be enough to ensure that she wasn't going to go blabbing to anyone else.
Stiffly, he makes his way over to Drake. Hefting him up into a chair, he cracks his neck, and exhales. Letting himself relax a bit, he's clearly exhausted. From one to the next, and it was all he could do to really keep himself standing, though he could, which put him at an advantage compared to the others.
"What is it, Comrade?"
COMBATSYS: Zangief has ended the fight here.
Drake is lifted like a puppy again, and all the model can do is just dangle until he's sat down. But he's grateful enough to be in a chair, slouching back into it. His left hand sets to his forehead, rubbing over it slowly. He definitely has a headache now.
Another look is cast to the female, giving her an odd look. But she seems out, so it's good enough for him. He trusts he can have a talk with the massive hulk.
So the amethysts return their gaze to the tuckered-looking Zangief. "Well.. it's been said that you're the strongest man in the world. You're obviously a heck of a wrestler.. and the fact that you got up after the Total Eclipse..." Drake pauses to shake his head slowly. "..No, got up so -fast- after the Total Eclipse.. it really says something about you."
The eyes break away to lower towards his feet and Zangief's big-aft boots. "This is a little awkward. But.. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I think I could really do well with some training under you." And those big amethysts peep back up at Zangief in a truly youthful way. "So, ah.. my question is, do you have time to train a guy?"
Zangief seems to consider this for a few, long moments. Rubbing his beard, he looks down at himself, and then back at the boy. Interesting. He hadn't really thought about taking on any students. His training methods weren't exactly for the weak of heart, and Drake doesn't -look- like the sort of person to be Zangief's successor... all spindly and... not made of Russian Meat.
But, then, he had seen a lot of potential in that fight. And he had a good spirit. Even if it was not of Russian birth, he couldn't fault Drake on that front. Yes, for long moments, Zangief considers this. And then he straightens himself up.
"After we have had our official fight." He rumbles, "I will make my decision. We will both fight with everything we have, and when you have shown me that, again, with the roar of the crowd backing you... then I will decide whether you have what it takes to train with me."
The ponderous pause in response has Drake all but literally on the edge of his seat. The eyes simply widen further, observing the huge, hairy monster as he considers. Hanging on every little nuance and gesture, Drake could quite possibly be in more agony just waiting on the response than he had been in that horrible submission hold!
And the answer, when given, seems to be pleasing enough. "Good deal. I didn't plan to give you anything less than my best. Otherwise, what's the point?" His head nods slowly before he raises up to his feet. "I'm gonna walk this off. But if you stick around in Spain a bit longer, maybe we can cut another promo for the match?" He flashes a rueful grin at Zangief, then steps down to the ground.
Though on his way to the exit, he pauses by the downed girl and frowns. "Geeze. Crazy thing, trying to fight him...," he murmurs. A glance is cast back to Zangief. "I'm gonna call an ambulance for her, just to be on the safe side, 'kay?," he warns. Because it might make Zangief look bad, if he went and hospitalized a girl like so. His eyes return to her, squinting one eye to peer at her. "Even if smackin' me with that stick wasn't very nice of you," he jokes to the unconscious (so far as he knows) girl.
That done, he resumes his trek out the door, fishing his cell out of a pocket.
Log created on 07:32:04 01/03/2009 by Zangief, and last modified on 06:39:46 01/04/2009.