Description: After getting his head together, Francois decides to set off in Southtown searching for somewhere to earn some all-important cash. What he finds, is Roland, the cheating scumbag. Drawn in by the promise of gambling, it isn't long before the two men come to blows. After all, even when war rages all around, there is no excuse to try and cheat a man out of his hard-earned pay, is there?
War. Pain. Panic. Anxiety. So many negative emotions run through the city, intermingling with the blood of the innocents that congeals and clogs the gutters of society! Although such poetic prose matters not to one person. For he is little more then a stray dog, preying on the scraps of war, profiting from misery. Roland Brown, a man of few redeeming characteristics, and little compassion or empathy! He has set up a simple table near an alley, and a few people have gathered around it. "Step up, step up! Everyone needs a little luck in these times, and I'm just the man to offer it!" His broad sleeves have been pulled up to his elbows, fingers waggling in the air. "Three card monte! You got the eyes to follow my hands?" He then holds up the three cards, two black and one red. In a genuine blur he shuffles things, before one by one flipping them over... and indeed, they are the same. A few people look startled, but some curious. "Think you saw it? That's a freebie! Got the eyes? Get the prize!"
Francois has laid low through the Southtown affairs up until this point. The war and bloodshed raised some nasty memories for the Frenchman, and he had needed some time to get his thoughts together. Now, however, he's gotten his head together, and he's come to a similar decision as Roland. Money was out there to be made, and Francois wanted his fair share of it.
Call him gullible, though, he couldn't help but find himself distracted by the street stall. Roland might be one of those brave vendors, continuing to peddle their wares in these dark times! He could also be a conman and a thief, of course, but that wasn't a conclusion Francois wanted to jump to. He watches, carefully, the little demonstration, and then produces a few crinkled notes, putting them down on the table. His one good eye meets Roland's...
And he smiles. "Sounds fun, friend. Lets test my luck, no?" He says, easily, a lilt of an accent quite audible in his speech.
A big smile, showing every perfect tooth, is bared in a wolfish manner towards Francois. A hint of being more predatory then amiable. "Yes, yes! Nothing wrong with a little fun... You put down money, I'll double it if you win. We'll just let a bit of luck and skill figure out who's fated this day! But I warn you, Lady Luck's got a thing for me." Wink. A brief moment is spent observing the other man, but Roland is somewhat confident. He's bigger and more imposing, and worst case he'll stab him in his blind spot then run away. The three cards are deftly taken and shown, before he places them down on the table. "Let's start out simple..." He begins to shuffle them quickly, but nothing the eyes of a talented boxer couldn't follow with trivial effort. Although the bystanders look to be having trouble. "Kick it up a notch..." The rapid beat of the cards smacking the table picks up. The bystanders look bewildered, but still Francois could follow. "And the finale!" This would take effort, but far from insurmountable. A few intense seconds before he lifts his hands, fingers splaying. "Just tap the card you think is right!"
Francois smiles slightly wider, following each movement with a definite intensity. He hadn't missed the look in Roland's eye. Francois was many things, but he was not a fool. This man was up to something, and it might just be that he would try to start something. The seconds tick past, and Francois's eyes flicker back and forth. The others may have had trouble- heck, if he'd lapsed in concentration for even a second, Francois wouldn't have a clue either. But. He was confident he hadn't. He knew precisely where it was.
And, with a simple tap on the table, the Frenchman makes his choice. Eye moving up to challenge Roland's, though his smile is still quite easy and relaxed. If he was intimidated in the least, he wasn't showing it at all. "I think today, Lady Luck is in my corner, no?"
A frown falls upon Roland's face, for the faintest of moments. Damn. He had hoped he lost the Frenchman, and would be able to get a legitimate win. At first he thought he was lucky, but that's immediately changed upon meeting his gaze. Confidence such as that... it seems this isn't a stooge who will get the wool pulled over his eyes. In another situation, Roland would let him win and avoid a confrontation with a man potentially dangerous. But in another situation, he actually has money to PAY. That makes things more difficult. Yet that smile returns, letting out a low sigh. He pulls his sleeves up further, before slapping his hand firmly upon the card. "Is that so...?" he wonders, yanking it to the edge of the table and crouching down to peer, as he lifts it up with his thumb. His expression is surprised. "Well I'll be." It's lifted up, showing a Queen of Spades. "Maybe you blinked, eh?" He rather quickly attempts to scoop up the rest!
If there is one thing that Francois doesn't like, it's a cheater.
For a split second, it looks like Roland might actually get away with it. Francois doesn't look happy, but he doesn't look surprised, either. Or all that angry. Mostly, he just looked... tired. But that moment passes rather swiftly, as he reaches out, intending to grab hold of Roland's hand, and squeeze.
"What's the rush, friend?" He asks, with a sneer building in the corner of his mouth. "You look like you are in a rush, eh? Why is that, I wonder? You won fair and square, no? You don't want to play a little longer, maybe see if your -lucky- streak continues?"
He's leaning closer at this point, and his anger flashes in that eye. Definitely pissed. "Come on, -friend-." He snarls, "Give me a chance to win back my money, no?"
When his hand is grabbed, Roland looks on the verge of terrified. This quickly passes however, when he glances towards his wrist and then becomes more surly then anything else. He's pulling lightly, attempting to gauge the other man's strength. After all, he is not above picking a fight he'll win. "I don't care for your tone." he settles, having found that the unknown boxer isn't in a league above. Also more importantly, he hasn't looked at the other two cards... to find out that the heart is mysteriously gone. "Suck it up." He jerks his hand sideways. Roland is strong; a lot stronger then just his well toned build would allow! The crowd looks a touch uneasy at this point, stepping backwards in anticipation of a building conflict.
Francois is confident he was right. So confident, in fact, that when his hand moves to the other cards and angrily throws them face-up on the table, he doesn't even bother to look. His eye is locked, dead, on Roland's. The shocked gasp of the crowd is enough to reassure him that he was right. Though, the fact is, Francois isn't really all that strong, and his grip doesn't last long.
It is, however, enough to ensure that Francois leaps into action. Not usually one for this kind of thing, he nevertheless decides to go for a little dramatic flair, his foot hooks under the stall, and in a blur, he's flipped it up, one hand grabs it, and he swings it forwards in a (somewhat clumsy), overhead swing. Aiming to crash the impromptu weapon directly over Roland's skull. Roland might have the size advantage... but, quite clearly, Francois had no intention of letting -that- stop him from exacting his revenge on the fraudster.
COMBATSYS: Francois has started a fight here.
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Francois 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Roland has joined the fight here in the center.
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Francois 0/-------/-------|
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Roland 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Roland interrupts Random Weapon from Francois with Random Weapon.
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Francois 0/-------/-----==|
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Roland 0|-------|------=
That gaze. Roland doesn't like it. There's an intensity behind it that unsettles him. But that doesn't particularly mean he's intimidated. If there's nothing that the conartist lacks, it's resolve and an inflated sense of self confidence! Yet he's confirmed that he's the superior physical person in this encounter. Well, then he'll just put the Frenchman in his place! Catching the sight of the table, he twists, and catches it with his shoulder. Cards go flying, Roland warps his face in pain, but then with a growl he surges forward. Swinging it right back, while the boxer is still following through. Francois might not be used to hurling around unwieldy objects on a whim, but Roland happens to be a master of it, colliding with the other man's jaw hard enough to create a sizeable dent! "Oh, it's on!" he offers, more then a little atagonistic.
The blow sends Francois stumbling back a couple of steps, a thin trickle of blood comes from the corner of his mouth, and he grunts, wiping his broken lip with the back of his hand. The Frenchman gives a firm nod. "So it would seem, friend." He states, calmly. That sneer returns full force, and he raises his fists, apparently not that put off by the painful blow he'd taken. It had hurt, certainly, but... "You know, normally, I wouldn't bother." He says, conversationally. "But I am going to beat every cent out of you."
With that, he comes forwards. Striking out twice, his guard remains firmly up, covering himself as his fists lash out at Roland's body. Already stepping back, it seems he's learned his lesson, taking a more defensive approach to his advance this time. He might not be out of the fight yet, but that didn't mean he wanted to take another hit.
COMBATSYS: Francois successfully hits Roland with Raison Detre.
- Power hit! -
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Francois 0/-------/----===|
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Roland 0|-------|----===
Here, Roland would really make a smarmy comment about how he doesn't have any money to beat out, but that isn't conducive to getting an advantage in this fight. He brings up his forearms, assuming a rather... laughable guard. His stance is off, his balance is bad, he's vulnerable in many areas, and similarly has little overt opportunities to press an offense as well! These things are subtle, but add up to paint a picture of someone who is either lazy, untrained, inattentive, or all three. Unsurprisingly, the talented boxer shatters his guard with practiced ease, Roland's eyes widening as he's slugged twice in the torso. Sent backwards, he hits a few trashcans, but catches himself on the side of the wall. "...the hell?" he grunts, rubbing his chest. He just got owned, but he's used to that involving him flying through walls, or wondering up and down. His entire body is in pain, but that's something he's rather used to. "Man, maybe you've bitten off more then you can chew, if that's the best kinda shot you have..." Slithering closer, he then brings up his right hand, which suddenly erupts into green fire. "KASANE ATE, BITCH!" Sweeping it down, a jagged crescent of green energy tears through the intervening distance, aiming to slam into Francois and send him staggering backwards!
COMBATSYS: Francois blocks Roland's Kasane Ate.
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Francois 0/-------/---====|
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Roland 0|-------|----===
Energy. Francois really does hate it when it's energy. Roland's words were annoying, but not all that much. Francois cared more about what the result was than what he was saying, and the result was... Roland just get sent for a rather painful ride. The energy splashes over his raised guard, an annoying burn, but, rather like Roland, Francois had taken much more painful blows in his time, and he doesn't look like he's ready to back down just yet himself.
"Oh no!" He cries, grinning from ear to ear, "Ze horror! You can throw things at me, what~ever shall I do? Zut alors!"
His voice simply oozes sarcasm as he dances his way forwards, his fists jabbing this way and that...
But the real attack comes as his foot aims to slip around behind Roland's, and his fist just... *jab* him on the nose. More humiliating than anything else, as he intends to bop Roland over backwards. His sneer now a full on, asshole grin. Should it connect, of course. He won't be as pleased with himself if it doesn't.
COMBATSYS: Roland interrupts Zut Alors! from Francois with Sleight of Hand.
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Francois 1/-------/=======|
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Roland 0|-------|-======
Another smirk is offered at the comment. He didn't mean to blow the other man away with that wash of chi. Nah; he just wanted to stagger him, hunkering his arms in further. As the fist begins a journey, something interesting takes place. A wash of energy once more goes across the sleek man, and all of his rough, unskilled stance melts away in a heartbeat. One booted foot slides forward, as he snaps his head to the side. Grazed across the face, but from his smile it's insufficient to stem the tide of his encroaching assualt. A hand dips into his pocket, and then... BAM! A handful of sand flies /right/ into the boxer's face, in a rather disorienting manner. It only takes that split second of opportunity for Roland to now be behind the boxer, snapping a wire beneath his chin and beginning to strangle. "NOW what do you do?!" he hisses out, gripping the wire in one hand. His other begins viciously slugging Francois in the kidney and livers, as hard as he can. And he does have quite a punch. ...This might be the most illegal series of moves in a short amount of time within Francois' career. Roland should be proud.
Francois really did not see that coming. The series of attacks is vicious, the burn in his eyes had bought Roland the time he needed to land the hit, and if Francois did have any pithy comeback to say... he's sure as hell not saying it right now. No, he's far more interested in choking, and struggling for breath, it seems. For a moment, it looks like Roland may just have gotten Francois where he wants him.
Then, with a sudden twist, the Frenchman is facing Roland dead on. The look in his eye... is deadly. Quite suddenly, he's actually stepping forwards, inside Roland's guard, and then his fists are smashing out. Intending to drive the larger man back on a cushion of pent-up anger and frustration, before leaping up to finish with a powerful uppercut, right into Roland's chin.
... Well, he did ask what he'd do.
COMBATSYS: Roland blocks Francois' Tour de Force.
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Francois 0/-------/-------|
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Roland 0|-------|--=====
Damn. Raw strength is sufficient to escape from the wire, if remarkably unsurprising. He's offbalance from the effort, letting out a mild grunt of surprise. In a rather notable panic, he brings up his guard, and begins to expertly weave himself. Each slam hits forearms, none this time slithering between to impact the fighter head on. Scrabbling his footwork together, he weathers the entirety of the onslaught with myriad bruises on his arms. "Ouch..." he grunts, then suddenly whips out his foot. Aiming to snake it right between Francois' legs, and land a hopefully resounding blow in an even MORE illegal spot! Thank god there's no referee within eye's sight. But Roland has done what he's done best. Pissed someone off, and only questionably having the tools to handle the fallout!
COMBATSYS: Francois blocks Roland's Light Kick.
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Francois 0/-------/------=|
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Roland 0|-------|--=====
Apparently Francois has some experience fighting people who fight as dirty as Roland does. His arm comes down, and simply soaks the blow, making it a very much less unpleasant experience for the boxer, that much is for certain. "Perhaps I am out of practice." He laments, to nobody in particular. "Or perhaps you are better than I expected you to be, but I actually felt that last one. What is a man like you doing hustling tourists for pocket change, eh?"
Maybe Francois actually cares about Roland's story! Maybe he's trying to engage him in a discussion, so that he can find out what makes the other man tick.
Or, perhaps he's just angling to get Roland where he wants him, before his head suddenly lashes forwards. Aiming to crunch heavily against Roland's forehead, the lunge comes in a sudden slip forwards, pretty difficult to see coming, that.
COMBATSYS: Francois successfully hits Roland with Tete-a-Tete.
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Francois 0/-------/------=|
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Roland 0|-------|=======
"There ain't no tournaments in this stupid town right now. Gotta scrap together what I can for a meal. I ain't picky. A hamburger and fries'll get me through." Roland seems to have no qualms about idle banter within the fight, and it doesn't seem to throw him off balance. Hell no, he's the kind of trash talker that uses such distractions to his own advantage! It's purely his own fault that he's struck right in the face by that slipping jab, having realized the danger of it about one inch from connecting. "Hnnngh..." He whirls around, showing his back a moment, but in a rather frantic manner faces Francois again. He can obviously take a hit, and has the air of experience by this point. "Like I said..." is mulled out, assuming a peculiar but disturbingly effective looking stance. "...you might've bitten off more then you can chew... I'll show you one of my better moves!" And then he lunges forward, arching through the air in what seems a dive destined to never reach. But he catches himself on his hands, twisting his hips as his knees are brought to rest against his chest. But a billow of energy displaces the dust upon the ground, heralding the raw force within this maneuver...! "ROLAND--" And then he's corkscrewing upwards, both heels attempting to impact Francois' face with a rather respectable amount of force! "ROCKET~~~"
COMBATSYS: Francois endures Roland's Roland Rocket EX.
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Francois 0/-------/---====|
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Roland 1|-------|=======
Never let it be said that Francois doesn't know how to take a punch.
The blow slams into his nose with all the force that Roland had mustered. And it -is- impressive. The trouble is, when it hits Francois, the Frenchman stands firm. Like a wall, the fact that his nose has broken doesn't really seem to detract from this implacable force. The knees hammer on home, and he simply... takes it all. His hands come up above his head, Roland still in the air at this point, and clasp together as he begins to recover from the blow.
"Hmmmmm." He ponders, blood pouring from his nose, and then he grins. "Non." He concludes.
And with that, his hands come down in a sudden, crushing axehandle blow, aiming to crash into the back of Roland's head with all the momentum he can possibly muster behind it.
COMBATSYS: Roland dodges Francois' Coup de Grace.
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Francois 0/-------/-------|
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Roland 1|-------|=======
Crap. Roland doesn't like people who can take a hit. His style revolves around making sure his impacts connect, and them being unable to absorb it. Any other fighter he can think of, especially that whore Ayame, would be on the ground at this point. He's in a very precarious position, every card in Francois' court. His eyes widen, cursing, but he tries. He tries his damn hardest. And in the end, it was that which allows him to whirl around, his hat cleanly knocked off his head by the force of the boxer's thrust, escaping the heavy impact by a hair's breadth. Quite literally. "Damn... you're bein' serious now." He backs away, before grinning. "I'll try to finish you then... I don't like taking risks!" Both arms extend, forming his body into a T. Before he's erupting forward. Fast -- incredibly fast. A blur of green energy, as two retractable blades hidden in his jacket slip out, crackling with chi. Trying to sink them both into Francois' torso, and then kick him off in an explosion of emerald fire!
COMBATSYS: Roland successfully hits Francois with Jackpot!.
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Francois 0/-------/---====|
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Roland 0|-------|-------
The blow comes in clean. Simply put, Francois didn't have enough time to recover his guard after failing to connect, and by the time he's coming up again, the blades have already struck home deep into his ribs. The Frenchman grunts, and suddenly, finds himself flung backwards by the force of the explosion. That... has got to hurt. And it does. For a moment, it looks like he might even be willing to lay down right now and not get up again.
But far be it for Francois to let Roland get the last laugh entirely free. With a grunt, he rises back up to his feet. "Of course, my friend. You stole from me, and if zat is not worth getting serious about..." He replies, already starting forwards a second time, he aims to grab hold of the larger man, and simply heft him up over his head. If he can manage that, he'll simply -hurl- Roland as far as he possibly can, before sinking back down. "What is, eh?"
COMBATSYS: Francois can no longer fight.
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Roland 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Roland dodges Francois' Au Revoir.
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Roland 0|-------|-------
Well. Jackpot isn't about annihilating opponents, but Roland is still impressed by the relentless nature of his opponent. The grapple is escaped by a rather energetic leap backwards, grazing the front of his coat. A slow huff is let loose, before he holds his hands up in a placating manner. "You know, when you got me, you got me. I cheated. Fair enough. Cheating's only fair if you didn't get caught. But I'm not a fair man. So." He pulls out a coin, fingering it before flipping it high into the air. "We'll let Lady Luck decide for real. Call it." A few seconds later, it cracks off the alley, finally rolling to a stop. Heads. Yet did the Frenchman guess right, if he bothered to at all?!
COMBATSYS: Roland has ended the fight here.
Francois forces himself back up. He's not in any fit state to fight, as evidenced by all the wobbling, and the fact his guard isn't up. But he still does make himself get up. Shakily, one hand moves to fish in his jacket pocket, producing a cigarette, which he lights, and takes a long, slow drag from. "Non, non." He says, at last. Waving his hand loosely in the air in a vague and unstructured manner. "I promised to beat it out of you, you, beat it out of me. Is only fair, after all, that you keep it my friend, a second wager of sorts, if I'd have one, I'd have taken every penny. And probably your shoes, too." A vague nod, but, well. It was only a few dollars. Nothing major. "You keep it. /I/." He declares, suddenly losing his balance and toppling against the wall. "Am going to go and buy a drink."
Well, when the Frenchman puts it like that, he's got a point. Although his hat, prior knocked off, suddenly flicks through the air; yanked by an unseen wire to be settled back atop his head. "Only money I got is yours, buddy. You got one of the most accurate punches I've ever seen. Shame it only staggered me, huh?" He smirks at that, although rubs his jaw thereafter. Stagger indeed. It hurt a hell of a lot, but if there's anything Roland's good at, it's taking a beating. In this case, he just gave one a little better. "Fair enough. You paid for my dinner, and I'd damn well say I earned it." A tip of the hat follows, before he picks up his table, looking it over. ...this was a net loss. He liked this piece of furniature. He lugs it into the alley, pondering how workable it'll be once he hammers it back into shape.
Log created on 18:28:12 04/27/2009 by Francois, and last modified on 12:25:36 04/29/2009.