Neo League 826 - #830: Mary vs Vyle

Description: Mary fought Vyle for the Neo League! GUESS WHO WON? Hint: the one with the bounce. Fight was on 2/11/2009. We fought at Masters Arena!? ( Winner: Blue Mary )



"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, I BRING TO YOU THE MAIN EVENT!!" The night was starting off quite nicely, a little fight exhibition show running in the spectacular Red Arena. While none of the big names seemed to be present, the fighters who have been featured tonight were more than able to hold their own for the crowd. And now, the two main draws, two Muay Thai champions rumored to be in line for shots at Joe Higashi, were ready to fight it out.

It would not be, though...as introductions were being made, a few gasps and ooohs were heard as someone in a gaudy purple jacket ran in...and before the announcer or either fighter could make heads or tails of the strange development, a steel chair cut them off. Once to each of their heads. The chair wielding psycho didn't stop there, knowing the fighters wouldn't go down easy after just one chair shot to the head. Each one was given two bashes to each knee...before the hood of his jacket was thrown back.

Smirking, and hoping's he's got the crowd's attention, Vyle walked over to the discarded microphone. Looks like he's got something to say in his...rather strange but oddly fitting re-emergence.

"Blue" Mary Ryan had taken the night off. As a fairly prominent figure in these fighting circuits and a guaranteed crowd draw, she'd been able to snaffle low-price tickets for some time. And sometimes you just need to get out of the apartment! Even if Anton is gonna be lonely.

Of course, she'd wished she hadn't come alone, but you can't dwell on that kind of thing. What you can dwell on, however, is this sort of shenanigans. In the third row, someone stands up sharply. "Hey!" comes a loud soprano, Mary raising up one jacketed arm to point towards Vyle. "What the hell?!"

Hearing the sharp soprano yell in the crowd, amongst other shouts of confusion and booing, Vyle just can't help but smirk. Oh, it was like sweet honey in his ears, the jeers coming down at him. This was him at his theatrical best, it seems. Picking up the microphone, the garishly colored heel lifts it up to his face.

"Sorry to interrupt the party, but I can't help but feel like something was missing this whole night. Maybe a little...bloodlust...maybe a little...fire. Ah...I got it...maybe it was TALENT!!" Vyle punctuates that last word with a loud shout, pausing to drink in the reaction before he goes on. Sure, this is different from a pro wrestling crowd, but there are always buttons to push to play the crowd. "Now...see...I just couldn't stand by here and let the night go to waste. I'm an altruist that way, and that's why, tonight, you get a special treat. You get a true main event...you get "The Sickness", the one, the only Vyle...making an open challenge to any chump here tonight. In the back, in the crowd, man, woman, manchild, whatever you want...if anyone wants to stand up to the Sickness, I'm making the call right now. Get down here, right now...and make yourself famous." Looks like he's not banking on a made name being here tonight...

Mary shrugs out of her jacket. "Here," she tells one of the two teenage boys who were for some reason sitting next to her, "hold this, it's important." She sidles out into the aisle stairway, meanwhile, as the crowd mutters with outrage!

"It smells like lady," says boy #1 to boy #2.

Mary jogs down the stairwell, vaulting over the railing that keeps people who are not crazy from leaping off and sailing through the air, almost impossibly far, with a curiously still gesture, as if some outside force is buoying her up - possibly with invisible hands under her armpits or something similar!

She lands in a crouch on the corner of the arena floor, straightening up and tossing her hair back. She breathes in deeply, because /she/ doesn't have a mike. "If you're 'The Sickness,'" she declares, "I'm going to have to be the shot that cures you!"

Vyle blinks as more commotion comes out of the crowd...just not the boos he's expecting. Looking around, he sees a blond, red, and blue streak fly through the air before landing in a crouch on the far end of the arena. Looks like he got what he was asking for. Just in spades.

If he's worried though, he doesn't show it, snorting at B. Mary's retort. "...god, everyone use that damn line?" he mutters to himself, shaking his head. "...well, I wasn't expecting someone worth a damn to come out...but if you really want to die screaming tonight, I'm more than willing to let a little of my poison in you," he snaps, smirking and tossing the mic. No rules...no ref....no announcement. Oh well...not like he had his theme on hand to blow out of the speakers for full effect tonight anyways.

COMBATSYS: Vyle has started a fight here.

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Vyle             0/-------/-------|


COMBATSYS: BlueMary has joined the fight here.

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BlueMary         0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0             Vyle


"Are you ready?" Mary says, seeming unmoved. She beams, even. However, well, this may just mean she had too many overpriced stadium beers. She stays crouched low, making her already smallish body seem even smaller of a target, before she moves, suddenly!

The incoming rush isn't too unpredictable for Mary, who 'The Sickness' has probably seen in both regularly distributed fight tapes and on the yearly Wardrobe Failure Compilation, but she doesn't go into a slide kick or anything else terribly fancy. She leaps at the last moment, aiming with a "Haah!" of effort to clothesline Vyle with her left arm and send him slamming down towards the arena floor!

"Roxy's got better hair!" she answers, in a slightly belated borderline non sequitur.

COMBATSYS: Vyle counters Medium Throw from BlueMary with Antidote.

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BlueMary         0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0             Vyle


Blue Mary wasn't the only fighter here tonight at the Masters Arena. In fact, it just so happened that another fighter happened to be watching tonight's fight as well. Albeit from a different location from where Mary was, but still here nonetheless.

Maki Genryusai was sitting in another section of the arena as well, apparently having purchased a ticket for tonight's match. And believe it or not, Maki's actually a friendly person when she's not in the arena. She's chatting it up with people near her, making jokes and even giving out a few autographs. She's in a good mood tonight it seems.

But that mood threatens to go sour when Vyle makes his entry into the ring. Maki immediately stands up and starts jeering him with those who are jeering him as well. However, her jeering turns into cheering when she sees Mary enter the ring. "All right, go get 'em, girl!"

Not unpredictable? Hell, Vyle remembers this crap from wrestling school. When Mary rushes in...and then comes out to try and clothesline him down, the rudo is ready. Smirking, he ducks just as the arm tries to collide into his chest and neck. Instead, arm meets arm, the green and purple cruiserweight reaching to counter grab Mary and reach out across her chest and neck. "HHIIIAAAAHH!!" he shouts out, his near leg coming as well to swing out into the back of Mary's own.

Between her own momentum, and the leverage of arm and leg, the Sambo fighter will likely end up finding herself crashing to the ground on her neck and shoulders. "STO Bomber, b****."

The grasp and counter-move strikes into Mary, although really it's the ground that does the striking. "Ufff!" she breathes out as she bounces, rolling along the ground like a rag doll for a moment before hauling herself back up with an almost casual kick up.

"Hah! You're not just a punk who's willing to dare it all, I see," Mary says, putting two fingers to her chin as she grins (again). Her head rolls as she takes a step forward, hand going to her side again. She turns to the side, as if she's about to start weaving like a street fighter -

Those blue jeans flex and her right leg jerks up, strike glowing a shimmering hint of red as she aims to slam the channeled chi strike, /and/ the kick itself, right into Vyle's upper body! Her leg jinks then, to slide around Vyle's head as she turns to try and get his head between her knees while turning, letting gravity, hopefully, jam HIS head and shoulders into the arena, with the additional bonus weight of Mary herself behind them!

COMBATSYS: Vyle blocks BlueMary's Deadly Spider.

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BlueMary         0/-------/-------|====---\-------\0             Vyle


The crowd cheers, knowing the fight they're witnessing is definitely one to watch.

Pulling back after hitting the STO on Mary, Vyle lurches down into a wrestling stance, watching the Sambo artists warily as she gets up. He doesn't say anything...he simply spits in her direction. Not enough to actually get anything on her, but it's the sentiment that counts, no?

When Mary finally comes forward, Vyle senses something...wrong. Very wrong. Arms come up to block....but depsite that, despite his guard holding, the dropping heel strike bears down on him fiercely, and the added twist nearly wrenches him clean around with wonders of how his neck is still intact. "Gnnh...you little g*****m..." he growls, teeth gritted in a wince. He's gotta pull out all the stops here. So...he spits again. Except rather than just a little loogie of disrespect...it's a cloud of mist. Stinging mist. Poison mist. Mist he hopes shows Mary why he's "The Sickness"

COMBATSYS: Vyle successfully hits BlueMary with Venom Breath.
Grazing Hit

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BlueMary         0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0             Vyle


As Mary recovers with an unnecessary flourish, she slaps her hip with one hand and waggles a finger at Vyle. "Ah ahhhh, you're on television, they're gonna type cast you as a heel if you aren't - What the hell!?" He's breathing... stinging, poisonous mist?!

It lands on Mary's bare arm, leaving an unsavory green sludge on her normally light-tan skin, the blonde woman taking a step back and grimacing. She can feel a hot flush spread out, uncomfortable and probably a good sign that she ought to make /damn/ sure to hit the shower after this. "Huh - So that's why they call you the Sickness, is it?"

She slaps her palms together, sharply. "But that's a dirty-ass trick! Do you really think it's going to stop me from beating you down!?" And with that she strides forwards, raising one majestic Size 5 shoe and slamming it downwards with another cry at where Vyle is; of course, if he's gotten up with alacrity this may simply dominate one of his shins and/or feet, but perhaps Mary is playing to impress the crowd as well.

COMBATSYS: Vyle dodges BlueMary's Strong Kick.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////       ]
BlueMary         0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0             Vyle


Vyle snorts, wiping his mouth as some green dribbles down from his lips. "...that's the name of the game, honey," he says with a vicious smirk. While he didn't get it in her face like he was hoping, but still...getting any of it on her is nice either way.

When the kick swings forward, trying to smash into his face, Vyle ducks down, trying to sneak in behind Mary from underneath the upraised leg. "Only one rule in the ring, baby, and that's 'Win'," he responds, trying to wrap his arms around Mary's head and drop her down into a harsh neckbreaker.

COMBATSYS: BlueMary blocks Vyle's Medium Throw.

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BlueMary         0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0             Vyle


The grasp at Mary's head succeeds, to some extent at least. She is kept in a firm hold, forced to breathe the unique and exciting bouquet of Vyle's body for a few moments. She feels her stomach lurch, although not fatally yet. Her back strains, upper torso twisting as she struggles -- In the end, the conflict strains her enough to hurt, and THAT's what makes her twist loose suddenly.

Thankfully, all that poison spit was a good lubricant. Sort of.

Mary takes one step back, tossing her head back as she lets her lips part in a moue of distaste. "That's the only rule you think there is? You don't have a hell of a lot of experience, do you!? There's a ton of rules!"

Her hands clench into fists as she lets her eyes widen, staring at the taller, purple-and-green man as the air around her seems to shimmer, body tensing despite the sheen of feverish sweat on her forehead from absorbed poison: "Come on, I'll show you!"

COMBATSYS: BlueMary gathers her will.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////       ]
BlueMary         0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0             Vyle


Vyle barely manages to avoid slamming himsef down in his attempts to drop Mary into that neckbreaker. She's a slippery sort it seems. Frustrated at the missed attacked, Vyle twists about to face Mary, glowering angrily at her. "It's the only rule that matters. The rest are just window dressing to make the losers feel better about themselves," he responds.

With the poison in her systems, Vyle isn't about to let up...and with her goading him, he decides there's no better time like the present to try and capitalize. Charging forward, he dashes for her and leaps. Twisting about, facing away from her, he tries to swing his leg out and up, hoping to catch her across the face with his heel and calf.

COMBATSYS: BlueMary blocks Vyle's Light Kick.

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BlueMary         0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0             Vyle


Mary is slowed by the poison, but the problem Vyle may be having is that she's just not slowed ENOUGH! She's feeling feverish, not thinking as well as she might, even if she's forcing the smile, just a little, for the sake of appearances. The twisting kick upwards gets countered with a cross-block and another step back.

"Wowww, you've got a really bad attitude! Here, let me bring you a little bit back down to earth!" Mary calls out, before taking a deep breath and using that added space to... hit the ground, which makes no sense, except...

For the forward slide along the smooth arena floor. A slap on the ground sends her rising upwards, aiming to kick Vyle right square in his ribcage while she continues rising, propelled by her own burning fighting spirit (or love for her pet dog), twisting around in midair as she goes past to try to grasp his head firmly between her powerful thighs.

The downstroke will hopefully slam Vyle to earth, not just leave Mary in a slightly awkward crouch.

COMBATSYS: BlueMary successfully hits Vyle with Vertical Arrow.

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BlueMary         0/-------/=======|=======\====---\1             Vyle


Ouch.

That's probably the operative word here. The fighting style is odd, not quite something Vyle is used to, even with experience. As such, when Mary rises up with that sharp kick, he's caught in mid-dodge, his aborted evasion only making the strike that much harsher. "HUURGHHHH...." he grunts....right before he's suddenly yanked down with a twist of Mary's hips and a clench of her thighs. "NGhh....." Now that hurt. A lot. Like...ridiculously so. Coughing as he tries to pull himself up, he wipes his mouth with his hand, as if trying to clean away any bleeding.

"B****, you just signed a death warrant..." he hisses, almost snake like....before he thrusts his hand out, as if trying to stab her right in the chest with his hand....and that mouth wiping? That was just an excuse to get some poison on his fingertips to try and further infect Mary.

COMBATSYS: BlueMary fails to counter Injector from Vyle with Stun Gun Smasher.

[           \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
BlueMary         1/-------/=======|=======\=====--\1             Vyle


Mary /dismounts/ with an unnecessary sway of the hips. She thinks that fever's clearing up. Ugh, she thinks, at least that beer's gonna stay put! And then she looks down as Vyle makes his move, putting a hand on her hip again to waggle a finger at him. "Aah aahh -- you think you can run from --"

She lunges forwards to try and grab at that hand. But maybe Vyle's lucky, or maybe his poison's taking her toll, or maybe Mary is just not having the best night. Maybe somewhere Anton is crying. Either way, the stabbing 'hand' slices into her top, drawing blood as she lets out a cry, staggering back at the sensation comes back again, twice as hard as before.

She touches the bloody wound, and lets out a deep breath, looking up at him. "You're better - than I thought. But if you're holding all that poison inside of you... Isn't it going to screw YOU up, too?!"

Vyle snorts. Now that's what he was hoping for. "Tricks of the trade....tricks of the trade," he insists, spitting out a little more green to the side as he pulls his hand back, now stained with a little red mixed with the green. "So how about I show you a few more whie I'm at it?"

Rolling back to give himself some room, Vyle drops into a crouch again...and sprints. Just enough to pick up speed and lunge toward Mary with a flying elbow smash.

COMBATSYS: BlueMary endures Vyle's Quick Punch.

[             \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
BlueMary         1/-------/=======|=======\=====--\1             Vyle


C'mon, Mary, thinks someone (guess who?) as Vyle crouches and lunges inwards with his elbow. She squats down, waiting - and grunts as the strike hits her square in the gut, eyes bugging outwards before she laughs, sharply. Is it cruel? Is she going to mock his weakness? No; she breathes in with difficulty...

And is holding his elbow. Fortunately her hands are kind of sweaty, so it'd be easy to pull loose. If he thinks to in time.

Mary lets go long enough to take a step back and raise a gleaming hand, and then dashes forwards, looping around in a series of tight circles as glittering red fragments surround her legs. It's confusing until -

The petals dissipate with a kick aimed low which turns shortly after into a rising spiral of glittering blue wind-streaks behind her hands as she tries to knock Vyle up, clean in the air, finally leaping away after one final punishing strike. Getting back to the arena floor is Vyle's job.

If he got hit at all. Otherwise, welp

COMBATSYS: Vyle counters Splash Rose from BlueMary with Relapse.
- Power hit! -

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BlueMary         0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0             Vyle


Indeed, /If/ he got hit. There be the rub.

As Mary tries to smack Vyle up into the air with the rising swipe of her energy-embued hand....Vyle has....other ideas. Seeing her step back, and then dash around, the wrestler grits his teeth, not willing to be drawn in by the confusion run. Finally, when she rushes in low, and tries to swipe him up, he sees his chance. "HELL NO!" Twisting about, he swings out a back kick, putting his weight into the whole strike and giving Mary a little medicine of her own. A grunt as he pushes off the ground, sending himself in after the blonde detective, trying to catch her on the drop down...and spike her head into the ground. Some call it a Northern Lights Bomb. Some call it Vyle's "Relapse". Right now...he just calls it "Pain".

Damn, Mary thinks. This move trickery of his is really adding up! She can feel her heart racing and not in a good way, and then she is kicked back. It is probably a testament to /her/ talent that she just staggers rather than being knocked down, until, of course, she is "helped."

Her skull cracks the ground as she says "grrrghk!" quite cogently, twisting to the side like a flopping fish and pushing herself up with one clenched fist as she pants for breath. "Hell no, huh? Well, I guess you ARE committed to your big shot here, aren't you?!"

She's weakening! Maybe. She turns to face Vyle again, slamming her fist forwards in a brief feint to the left and then a straight drive at his solar plexus.

COMBATSYS: Vyle blocks BlueMary's Quick Punch.

[                    \\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////                    ]
BlueMary         0/-------/-----==|======-\-------\0             Vyle


Vyle pulls himself up slowly after planting Mary. While he didn't hurt himself on the driver, the impact and accumulated damage WAS enough to make it hard to get up afterwards. Finally on his feet, he turns to Mary as she gets up herself. "Mnhh....whose the one bleeding out the head right now?" he asks in retort. Not that he knows whether the attack actually drew blood, but it's all he could manage to insult back with.

Lurching back down in his wrestling stance, he brings his arms back up, one arm trying to meet the left...and the other just barely managing to swat down the right before he gets it in the gut. "Now stay down..." he insists, trying to grab both arms and quickly whip Mary over onto her back in a modified arm drag.

COMBATSYS: BlueMary counters Medium Throw from Vyle with Stun Gun Smasher.

[                     \\\\\\\\\  < >  ///                           ]
BlueMary         0/-------/---====|=======\====---\1             Vyle


Mary's settling back for a moment and she smiles, if a little weakly, at the comment. Especially when her hands seem to part in front of her, with a pretty shine of blue light!

And her hands grasping onto Vyle's arms instead of him grabbing hers. She seems to burst into shimmering blue lightning-like energy, striking into his body even as she pivots around, using her own back as a pivot as she pitches him overhand and towards the far end of the arena!

She rolls onto her side for a moment after that. "Phew...! You know," she says, not getting up right away and instead pointing at Vyle with a lazy finger, "You're kind of an asshole, aren't you!"

Asshole is Vyle's middle name!....ok, it's Hines...which sounds a little like heiney, which is....you get the idea.

Regardless, Vyle ends up with his own medicine returned tenfold it seems in some karmic justice. When those arms glow, despite Vyle's attempted armdrag, he knows that's trouble...and when she starts hitting him with those damn glowing arms, that's when he knows it's not trouble...it's deep ****.

Finally, Vyle is flung to the far edge of the arena....and lands with a nasty thud. That...seems to be the end of it, right? Well, it normally would be, but the rowdy luchador doesn't seem to take the idea of losing lightly. Slowly lurching up, despite looking like he's on death's door, Vyle glowers with a sickly pallor to his face. "You.....*****...." he grunts out weakly....and starts to walk. Then jog. Then sprint. Where's that energy coming from? Well, it seems like it's a singleminded charge, arms out wide as he barrels forward to try and tackle Mary. Just what does this last gasp entail though?

COMBATSYS: Vyle can no longer fight.

[                      \\\\\\\\  <
BlueMary         0/-------/---====|


COMBATSYS: BlueMary blocks Vyle's Outbreaker.

[                       \\\\\\\  <
BlueMary         0/-------/--=====|


Mary's arms cross in front of her, blood still running down her torn shirt as she watches. At the proper moment, she strikes out! ... But without much force; more, perhaps, of an active deflection than any kind of blow. She turns as well, staggering back a step as Vyle expends his force outwards, brushing off her forehead with her less bruised arm. She wants a shower...

She then looks over her shoulder at the crowd and shoots them a thumbs up while beaming, likely to great effect. Then she looks back at the boys who were making as if to leave, holding onto her leather jacket, /quite directly/.

Unfortunately, that seems to be it for Vyle. With his charge deflected and shunted away, the wrestler faceplants, skidding on the ground and breathing harshly...before finally the sweet embrace of unconsciousness hits him, and the poor fool finally goes out like a light. Looks like he couldn't back up his arrogance there.

Log created on 20:18:34 02/11/2009 by BlueMary, and last modified on 14:39:38 02/12/2009.