Description: The King of Fighters tournament boasted some amazing fighters battling across the world. Ratings were high. Advertisers were happy. But most ask...what happened with the last fight? How did it end? How did it BEGIN? The tempestuous nature of the island of Great Interest made it impossible to get any decent video feed of the event's apex, leaving a great many people angry. Television stations have received hateful mail, death and bomb threats about! The world wants to see what happened. NO! They DEMAND to know! Therefore, the gracious Saturday Night Fight people have gone through no small effort to present to the world a faithful reenactment of the final round: Shadaloo vs Wrestlefriends! (Winners: Fake-Wrestlefriends)
Beijing Stadium is no small venue. Large enough to hold the Olympics and its thousands of fans, it really is a lot of effort to book something here. It must have cost tens--if not hundreds--of millions just to host this event here. That's why the stadium is packed, to say little of the roads leading to it. Cars are useless; there are just so many people trying to get in that the main entrances are jammed with tightly-packed fans. The seats are always full and then some, with people sitting in aisles, people sitting in other people's laps, and even whole mobs of folks sitting around the edge of the fighting floor! Safety be damned tonight as the owners of the stadium pack more and more people in, heedless of fire hazards and building codes.
As one of the people chosen for the night's event, Hector has to look impressive. Chosen tonight for his massive build, the man is just short of a walking mountain. Seven and a half feet in height and made of piles upon piles of lumpy muscle, Mister Faceblain certainly looks, to the untrained eye, like he belongs. Led onto the stadium field, he's adorned in little but a pair of shiny shorts of blue and red, modelled after Sagat's famous fightwear. An eyepatch is pulled over his left eye. As bald as he is, he could be the spitting image of the Muay Thai champion if he weren't so...damned UGLY. With his squashed face and broken nose, he looks kind of close, but different enough to be distracting.
"YEEAAAH! WHO WANTS TO SEE THE BAD GUYS WIN?!" He's certainly loud enough to be heard...somewhere. The boisterous crowd makes it all but impossible to hear him, but the television cameras easily pick up on it. With lifted arms, he settles himself on the far side of the makeshift arena, pounding his chest and making some sort of half-assed attempts at kicks that, if he tries REALLY hard, might even clear hip height.
For once, Blanka is not the tallest of his teammates! What with his normal penchant for being crouched up, it's hard to tell how tall he really is - but when he strides in behind the man made of muscle, he's a smaller figure indeed. Luckily, the outfit choices were designed to take that into effect, and the ratio of the two 'evil' people is approximately close to what it would be, were it actually Sagat and Juri there!
At least, that is what Blanka tells himself as he walks in wearing the standard Doll outfit, the blue leotard clashing pretty horribly with his bright green skin and blaze-orange hair. He's gone the extra effort to make it work, though he has put his jungle trunks on over the top of it after remembering some of Cammy's reactions to him in just the uniform.
He bounds in next to 'Sagat'. Without knowing much of Juri, he tries his best to imitate the Dolls he'd met - which mostly means instead of his normal boisterous manner, he just loudly and monotonely chants out. "Yes! we will win! Bad Guys always win, all hair Shadaroo!"
"Oh you got to be kidding...." Those were the words Faolan uttered when told what he has to do. At the same time he is rather glad he does not have to be part of the other side. He wonders what poor sap has to be dressed as the puppy chick. If he only know what was awaiting him outside when he finally does step out into the arena. Of course it might just be one of those fighters where everyone can see just how badly they can dress as the person they are trying to portray.
Out comes Faolan looking rather annoyed and looking only slightly less silly than Blanka. There is a fake strip of hair looking like Zangief's style taped onto the top of his hat. He is shirtless which only shows he has another huge amount of hair taped to his chest. Sure he has some on his chest normally, but he doesn't have a forest growing there like the large Russian. The red speedo is also pulled up over his pants because damned if he is going to skip about in nothing but that damn thing. He is also carrying his bata in one hand as he wonders if they even wanted some sort of accuracy to the fight that happened. They know the Ikari isn't a grappler, right? "Uh, go Wrestlefriends." he finally says while raising his arm in the air.
Allen Norris, perhaps a little late to the party trots out after Faolan. He is perhaps fortunate that his is something verging on normal, tights and mat-boots fit snugly to his legs while a yellow sash circles his waist. His chest is left bare, ginger-pale skin over a fighter's physique. His face is largely hidden by the mask, his shaggy, red hair poking out of the back here and there between the laces that hold it tight.
" Viva la Lucha Amigos!" bellows the young man as he bounces on the balls of his feet, a finger thrust into the air.
His enthusiasm is almost palpable as he dashes towards the ring, bounding up onto the edge and grabbing hold of the ropes. He rocks back and vaults over. It would have been a beautiful entrance... had his foot not caught the top rope and sent him face first into the mat!
Ah, both teams are present! As the four line up, the commentator--or ringmaster, given how garishly he's dressed--plays up the event. The King of Fighters, the end, the hidden fight that the world has been waiting for! Tonight, it's explained, the world will see the forces of good and evil clash for the sake of one small island!
An attendant rolls in a heavy metal gurney, upon which is set a massive round sphere. Bisected and riveted together, the thing is newly-shined and polished. The metal is more black than it is silvery, but shines wonderfully in the sun that beats down on the open stadium. Myriad wires and blocks have been affixed to its base, as well as a gaudy digitial timer. As the 'bomb' is set in place, the attendant punches a few buttons and a bright "60:00" springs to life on its display. For the sake of the fans, the massive Jumbo-Trons all display a shot of the timer as an inset, while the cameras focus on the fighters themselves.
At the moment, Hector is just...puzzled at Blanka. His ugly face is scrunched up even further as he looks his teammate over, thoroughly disgusted at the leotard. "You serious? This guy ain't even got the tits for that outfit!" With a heavy sigh and shake of his head, he tries to push the thoughts from his mind. One massive fist pounds into the other's palm as he sizes up the other fighters. He's been waiting for this chance, to go out and brutalize people. Difference is, now he can do so in public. LEGALLY. And for money! "Less talking, will ya start this damned thing already?!"
COMBATSYS: Hector has started a fight here on the left meter side.
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Hector 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Hector focuses on his next action.
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Hector 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Blanka has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
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Blanka 0/-------/------=|
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Hector 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Faolan has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Blanka 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Le Bomb has joined the fight here in the center.
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Blanka 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/-------|
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Allen has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Blanka 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
"Blanka does too!" is a hot-headed rejoinder to his teammate's pointing out of costuming flaws. However, as always, Blanka has come prepared. Being forced to dress up in most every single SNF he's been in has made him ready for these small nitpicks - and he prides himself on giving a good show, even if it makes him look the buffoon. Better that than the monster! Quickly, he pulls two oranges from his denim shorts and tucks them into the leotard un-self-conciously. Without any sort of attention paid to his 'partner' after, he looks to the opponents - and almost bursts out laughing at Allen. Oh, such a good disguise! "Fine! Juri start with special Shadarooo technique! ... BELLY FLOP!"
With that, the Brazillian Beast launches himself into the air, arms and legs splayed wide, intent on capitalizing on Allen's tumble and precarious position. Angling his body as wide as he can, he tries to just flatten his opponent to the arena floor!
COMBATSYS: Allen blocks Blanka's Fierce Punch.
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Blanka 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
Well at least someone feels more exciteable about what is going on. Allen at least does a pretty good impression of the hyperactive Mexican. He could even see El Fuerte landing flat on his face too really. "Yeah time to get...." he trails off and he gets a horrified look on his face when he finally takes a look at the other team. "What....the.....hell." he says while having to make himself look away at the horrifying sight that is Blanka. He slaps himself a few times to get his head back into the game. "Right, time to fight."
He can only be so lucky that Blanka decided to play with Allen instead of come at him. It allows Faolan to keep his attention elsewhere for the time being as he looks towards the big man. "Looks like it is you and me, pal." he comments and then grins some as he grips his bata with both hands. There is a crackle and black energy snakes around the wood and starts to gather in one tip. He then lets go to hold it one handed before giving a bit of a thrusting motion with the bata to set the energy sailing away from him and towards Hector. It is slow moving, but if the big guy is dumb enough to let it touch him he will find himself in for a good electric shock.
Excitement quickly bleeds into shame as Allen eats a good healthy serving of the mat.
At least it's high in fiber.
Attempting to shake it off, the copper-topped young man, starts to haul himself off the ground only to have the lights suddenly go dim. It takes him a heart beat to realize the sudden darkness surrounding him is actually the omnious shadow of the wild man from the southern land. Blue eyes widen as he glances over his shoulder and.. oh lord. It's horrible!
He flops onto his back and crosses his armsms over himself, nearly curling into a ball before Blanka crashes down on him like a transvestitte half-ton of bricks. Grunting beneath the impact Allen is keen on getting that face full of denim crotch he just got away from himself as quickly as possible! With legs coiled like springs, the fighter tries to angle his feet beneath Blanka and give him a good push off!
COMBATSYS: Hector endures Faolan's Bata Blast.
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Blanka 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
Ah, someone seems ready to fight! The ugly brute sneers as the Ikari comes in to...to totally beat him with a chi stick, just like Zangief would have! They really didn't pay ANY mind to fighting style, did they? Ah, but why would someone like Hector care? He's out in the world now, and he has two targets before him. How could he care about anything? He doesn't shy away from the oncoming bundle of energy, no. He spreads his stance, puts his hands on his hips, and just TAKES it. His pecs jostle with impact, a force so strong that it actually sends him skidding back a few feet on the grass! And then he...shakes. His shoulders hitch up, his eyes narrow, and he lets out this boisterous "YYYES! GOD! YEAH!" It's really quite terrible.
High on his euphoria, Hector plants a foot and rushes in to help his 'companion'. Fighting fair is overrated, and Allen is MUCH closer, with the perfect, puny neck to grasp in his iron fingers. If he can get a hold of the guy, Allen is going to have a VERY bad experience, lifted up and slammed into the ground, all by a vice-like grip on his throat. He had better avoid that if at all possible.
COMBATSYS: Blanka dodges Allen's Quick Throw.
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Blanka 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
From his perch upon Allen's blocking form, Blanka takes a second to check the situation. One Wrestlefriend safely smushed beneath him, the other grappling with 'Sagat', the bomb still safe.. sort of. All is right with the match so far!
When Allen's legs dig up and push under him, Blanka's no longer there - or just there enough to use it to help himself up, balled up and tumbling in midair, switching opponents as Sagat goes for the gusto. He aims at Faolan, and somewhere in the midst of the tumbling ball, two giant feet come out, intent on catching the fighter right in the middle of that fake hair strapped to the man's chest.
COMBATSYS: Blanka successfully hits Faolan with Backstep Rolling.
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Blanka 0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Allen endures Hector's Guillotine Choke.
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Blanka 0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
Hey if they wanted authentic styles they should have gotten a wrestler. Faolan hurts people and that is about it. Most of the time it involves stickbeating and not much throwing at all. "Hey, get back here you chi-....." he is cut off when he realizes that Blanka is now sailing towards him. Oh Christ what did he do to deserve this? He can't even look the green guy right now without wanting to turn green himself. He just closes his eyes and starts to lift his bata to try and have Blanka land on it and not him.
Instead he feels the weight of Blanka's feet strike him on the head and he goes stumbling back. "Go! Get out of here! Go bother the luchador and tell the big guy to get back here!" he says while flailing his bata about in front of him and trying to keep his gaze covered with the other arm. No, this isn't going well for the guy at all. He just wanted a good fight! This was not in the contract, dammit!
The kick-off nets him little beyond the releif of not having a face full of Blanka-crotch.
He could have sworn he smelled mangos...
He has little time to recover. No sooner is he on his feet than does Hector close on him, a hand thrust towards Allen's throat. No time to react, he can only do his best to brace for it. Fingers close around his throat, clutching around his windpipe and forbidding him his next breath. Suddenly he's on the mat again, the force of the slam pushing what breath he has free of his lungs!
What can be seen of him beneath the mask turns red as he wheezes his breaths. This is not a good situation, not a good one at all! A glance finds it's way to the bomb, taking note of the timer. He has to act fast. THIS IS NO TIME TO TAKE A NAP!
His own hands attempt to latch onto Hector's wrist, anchoring the man there as he tries to get his legs looped around the man's upper arm. As soon as he can secure himself he arches his back, trying to free his throat and painfully strain the taller man's arm!
COMBATSYS: Hector blocks Allen's Medium Throw.
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Blanka 0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
As the four men begin to brutalize one another, the bomb makes a loud, obnoxious tone. It's sort of like a clock's ticking, but louder and synthetic. The time has already ticked down to read "50:00"; far faster than ten minutes, but surely for dramatic effect and nothing more!
Meanwhile, Hector is having a hell of a time. His boisterous laughter sends spittle raining down upon the poor man he's thrown. He is REALLY getting into this whole "team evil" thing, isn't he? Unfortunately for Allen, he is very, VERY large. While he may find a fine grip on his arm, he's just such a mass of muscle that the attempt to throw him just causes his upper body to lurch forward. Again he laughs, amused by his opponent's efforts. "You can't throw me! Sagat! AHAHAHAHA! You'd have an easier time killing the bomb before me!" Ah, the numbskull. The boast reminds the commentator to remind the audience that, if they so desire, the "Wrestlefriends" could simply defeat the bomb and win as well! It's a not-too-subtle hint for the Wrestlefriends themselves, besides.
As Allen is dangling off of his arm anyway, Hector tries to lift him higher up, pulling him close. At the same time, he lifts one of his massive legs, seeking to drive the bony knee right into his stomach with a loud "TIGERRRR KNEEEEEEEE!" Sagat should probably be really pissed right now.
COMBATSYS: Blanka dodges Faolan's Medium Strike.
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Blanka 0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
"No! You fight who Shadaroo chooses! Juri here to fight yooooou!" Blanka isn't going to be scared off the fighter he's chosen, a pale imitation of the formidable friend Zangief! With the bata swung wildly and Faolan's eyes covered, Blanka is able to eel left and right, avoiding the strikes!
He's not done making Faolan's life hard, either. As he is bata'd at, Blanka is sizing up and lining up his next attack. Again, he uses his knowledge of Cammy's fighting style, not Juri's - bouncing back and then ducking low and throwing his body at Faolan's knees, feet-first. As he does, he calls out the attack, his bestial voice breaking the last word into a howl. His limbs blaze with blue-white energy as he tries to lay into Faolan! "SPIRAL AROOOOOOO!"
COMBATSYS: Faolan endures Blanka's Electric Thunder.
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Blanka 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
Blind fighting is not a skill Faolan has picked up at all. The fact he is swinging mostly at air is proof enough. Maybe he should just go after the damn bomb. His chance for a proper fight seems to be going out the window at the moment. It is only getting worse too when he hears the cry come from Blanka. He keeps his feet planted firmly and he squints an open to try and see where Blanka is coming from. He then curses as he gets a nice shock when he wasn't anywhere near prepared to be hit in the legs. It causes him to stumble back and he goes down to a knee as he lets out a light 'tch'.
He almost rather be dealing with the real Juri at this point. That is saying something since the last time they met she kind of tore him and Hakan apart with relative ease. He gets back to his feet and he starts running. Something Faolan doesn't often do in a battle. He isn't running at the bomb or Blanka. Instead he is going after the Sagat wannabe. "You dick! Get your woman offa me!" he yells and he swings his bata about with a powerful swing to try and knock Hector off balance. If he does so he follows it up with several other strikes aimed all over the large man's body before finally jabbing him in the gut with the bata and unleashing a jolt of energy into him to send another shock through the system.
COMBATSYS: Allen fails to interrupt Medium Kick from Hector with Vaulting Kick.
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Blanka 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
Well, this isn't a good day at all.
Allen almost seems to dangle at the end of the man's arm, feet kicking and flailing as he attempt to get those boots locked with little success! At the very least he can breath again! His legs wheel beneath him as he continues to struggle.
Then that knee comes up and Allen gets himself a bright idea! He'll kick the tall bastard, that always works!
Save for when it doesn't.
Attempting to swing into a swift, trio of lifting kicks, Allen gets as far as "Vaulting Ki-HUAGH!?" It's like a power wheels playing chicken with a truck. He just didn't have the momentum behind it. The knee drills into his middle , his organs feeling as if they rearrange themselves to make room for more hurt.
He drops, thumping to the mat where he has the bare-where withall to roll aweay, coming up in a kneel, a arm bent over his middle protectively.
COMBATSYS: Faolan successfully hits Hector with Hair of the Dog.
- Power hit! -
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Blanka 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 1/---====/=======|==-----\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
Every man has his limits. Hector apparently enjoys pain; that much is apparent from the way he nearly got off from Faolan's earlier blast. Allen's pain is avengened thrive over by the weapon-wielding "Russian". The giant stands firm and just LOOKS at Faolan as he comes over. The first strike draws a wince, but it's not enough to cause him worry. "Hey, bitch! The hell are you doing over thEHHOOGH!" Even his sturdy build is fallable under a steady assault of rapid strikes. The bata collides with bare flesh, smacking and bouncing off, but it's not long before the springiness of his muscles give way. The tip of the stick digs deep in between the armor-like muscles, stirring up what's left of his organs within...and THAT is enough to finally drop him to a knee, hunched forward with an arm around his midsection. The last blow is just adding insult to injury; Hector gives Faolan a murderous glare just moments before the massive meat miracle is sent sprawling.
Lying face-down, the man is shaking. It's not like before, where jolts of pleasure coursed through him. No, he's clearly in a fit of rage as he rises. His nasty, ugly mug is twisted with fury. When he stands, his body looks...off. From under a rib, a gash is cut in his skin, but it's not natural. The flesh looks torn and stretched not unlike rubber. Black ichor leaks from the wound, dribbling between the fingers that try to dam it back. "You...YOUUUUUU..." His steps are heavy and slow, quicking as he all-out charges toward the Ikari not-wrestlers. "YOOUUUUU! RUINING EVERYTHIIIIIING!!!" Like a train, he barrels down on Faolan, his uncomplicated plan little more than throwing and beating and outright BREAKING that asshole Faolan.
Blanka helping! Blanka helping! Blanka.. what the hell!? He chases after Faolan while the man savages his teammate 'Sagat', about to leap on Faolan from behind and give him a patented headbiting. And then, well.. His eyes go wide at the damage given.
That ain't natural.
Blanka sees Hector turn and twist and head right for Faolan, and Blanka suddenly decides that he wants /nothing/ to do with his partner and that anger. Instead, he bounds over the pair, leaping high above the arena. Instead of trying to belly-flop again, he just swings both his arms down high above his head in a hammerfist blow aimed at the top of Allen's stylishly-bedecked noggin!
COMBATSYS: Hector successfully hits Faolan with The Mangler.
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Blanka 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Allen endures Blanka's Strong Punch.
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Blanka 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
On the gurney, the bomb counts down another ear-wrench beep. The display counts down to read: 40:00 The time is unnoticed by most of the fans, however, given the nonstop violence! The stadium literally shakes with the roar of the crowd, so much so that it's impossible to keep the cameras steady.
There, now he feels better. Or at least for the moment the Ikari can feel some satisfaction. He isn't fighting a crossdressing Blanka and he is getting to dish out some good old whoopass. Of course he soon finds that perhaps he should be more careful in picking his fighters. That big man is still moving and Faolan actually looks a bit surprised. "Hey that ain't bad. I am surprised you can stil-HORF!" that is when the first fist slams into his gut. He really had no plan on if Hector was still standing after all that punishment. It seems that it is the mercenary's turn to get a sound beating and he is tossed about and slamed hard into the ground where he actually leaves a bit of an outline.
He then rolls over and manages to still have some of his wits about him. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu-..." he starts screaming as he just jams his bata upwards with enough force between Hector's legs to lift the man off the ground. All the while another burst of that black electrical chi forms at the end and is aimed to give the big man one hell of a ballblaster. Someone better hope he wore a cup. "-CK YOU!"
Allen again, Allen is assaulted by a jungle transvestite, the masked ginger just wobbling up to his feet when he gets that 'You're about to get hammer-blow'd bya green dude in a singlet with (fried) orange sized boobs.' that we are all so familier with.
He glances up just in time for -WHAM!- a good view of the stars that now whirl around his head. The mask, while incredible and stylish, does nothing to protect Allen from the double-fisted pounding that Blanka levels down on his skull. By all rights he should drop right now... But damned if the man in the black tights isn't as stubborn as... a guy in black tights!
He reels and staggers, trying to shake his vision clear before he rights himself, posture straightening and dukes coming up before, holy crap, what is that?! Allen's eyes bulge wide and his mouth drops open in sudden, gaping astonishment. Wordlessly, he thrusts a finger in the direction past Blanka's left shoulder, poining out the amazing, stupendous-
NOTHING!
PSYCH!
The mysterious masked man makes a sudden break to the left, bursting into a sprint towards the bomb, chugging along as quickly as he can before launching himself into a drop kick that will.. hopefully, at least knock the bomb from it's gourney!
COMBATSYS: Hector Toughs Out Faolan's One for the Road!
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Blanka 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
Poor Faolan is like a ragdoll in Hector's grip. Like a bully swinging about his sister's doll, the Ikari is tossed and whipped and smashed and slammed. After throwing the man down so hard that he DENTS the ground, the giant lifts both arms and flexes, walking around the downed fighter in an obvious celebration. The wound in his side is wholly uncared for despite the ichor spurting from it. With his arms lifted, the 'skin' tears even further. Sharp eyes will catch a glint of metal peering out from the wound. The cameras, unfortunately, are not lucky enough to catch it.
"YEAH! See what you get when you mess with Shadaloo?!" He thrusts a hand down, flipping Faolan one of the biggest birds he's probably ever seen. For the big lug's efforts, he's rewarded with...a smash to the oysters. It's a move that causes most of the audience to cringe. Even the commentator winces and lets out a pained "Eeeeyowch!" over live air. Not that's just not nice.
But why, then...is Hector still standing there? The bata collides with what should be his Mike & Ike's. The sound of metal rings out and Hector only grunts with gritted teeth...and then he grins. The followup blast draws the same reaction, but every muscle in the bastard's body is tense and stuff as he just endures it. His shoulders hitch anew as a shudder rips through them. "GOD, that is IT! MMNH!" Wasting no more time, both of his arms lift up, hands clapping together with interwoven fingers. With all of his strength, he slams the hammer down, apparently trying to bury the poor Iro-Ruskie. Has nobody told him that he's not REALLY supposed to be evil?
COMBATSYS: Blanka endures Allen's Strong Kick.
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Blanka 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Faolan
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Hector 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
Allen got past him! Allen got past him! Blanka'd fallen for the oldest trick in the book, the 'Look at that behind you!' thing. It's not easy to fool the canny jungle-man, but that one seems to work /every/ /single/ time. His head cranes and gawks out at the aseembled throngs, and then Allen is paste him and aiming a kick at Le Bomb, trying to knock it and send it all hither thither and yon.
"Noooooooooo!" Moving in what feels like slow motion to him, Blanka bounds forwards and throws himself in-between Allen's kick and the bomb. The kick catches him square in the gut as he splays himself outwards in mid-air - the momentum knocking him into the bomb and making it fall to the ground. This must be how it happened in the actual fight, too! Blanka rolls with it - literally.
Wrapping the bomb up in his body, he bounds around the arena and aims right at Faolan, trying to light the man up again with those blue-white arcs of electric energy! Unfortunately, Blanka is still holding the bomb - and when he lights up, it does as well!
COMBATSYS: Blanka successfully hits Faolan with Electric Thunder.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > // ]
Blanka 0/-------/=======|=======\==-----\1 Faolan
[ \\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Hector 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Faolan interrupts Shadaloo Smash from Hector with Jig Kick EX.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Blanka 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Allen
[ \\\ <
Hector 1/------=/=======|
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Faolan can no longer fight.
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Blanka 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Allen
[ \\\ <
Hector 1/------=/=======|
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Blanka successfully hits Le Bomb with Electric Thunder.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Blanka 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Allen
[ \\\ <
Hector 1/------=/=======|
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-----==
What the hell is wrong with these people they picked for this fight? "The hell? Are you all really Shadaloo people or something. Certainly messed up to be." he says while looking as if he is just wanting to get the hell out of here. But there is the problem where he is still rather prone and if it wasn't bad enough that Hector was wanting to crush him he seems to be under attack from Blanka as well. Well doesn't this shit just beat all? Look there is only one way to handle this. The Ikari way.
Sadly he really isn't close enough to punch the bomb so hard it would explode while he attempts to look all cool and such. Instead he looks like he is about to lunge forward and just clash with the big boy and take the electric zap like a man. Of course the electricity hits him and it causes him to jolt and his leg snaps upwards and just offers more ball punishment to the guy that has been confirmed to like that sort of thing. Looking a bit frazzled and the taped on chest hair falling off the Ikari staggers a bit and then keels over.
He's got it, he's got it! He don't got it, he don't got it...
Blanka makes the save and all Allen gets is to kick Blanka, this is not a fair trade at all! Getting his feet back under him, the martial artist makes a quick study of his situation. It is fortunate that he chooses this time to give things a good looking over, because it lets him see his partner, the hair-chested 'Zangeif' drop.
Oh, this ain't good, this ain't good at all!
With Zangeif down, it is all up to the scrappy cuisinart, El Feurto to save the day!
Only that sucker ain't here. All you've got is Allen Snider.
Still, he'll have to make do.
He's back in the fight, turning his attention towards Blanka once more, the man has the bomb! He steps forward and breaks into a leap, arcing through the air towards the green man in the singlet, his soul flowing into his fist as he comes down, knuckles driving towards the matt with everyone's favorite orange-busted transvestite in between!
Again and again, Hector is just assaulted in ways no man should be! His attention is divided now, however, by the rolling green leotarded wizard that Blanka comes pinballing through as. "What the fuck're you doing, ya dumb ape?!" So much for pleasantries among teammates. His callous insult is rewarded by a sudden kick to the metal goods, and what's more, a sharp jolt of electricity as Faolan's leg acts as a conductor! his whole body convulses for a few seconds with residual jerks following for a short while after. His expression his blank, his eyes glazed and empty, his mouth agape...
And then his consciousness sort of just...reboots. A blink restores his vision. A lifted hand restores consciousness. As Allen and Blanka do furious battle before him, memories flood back to his tiny, addled brain. "What the hell am I doing here?!" Then he sees Blanka, adorned in his leotard. He knows that outfit. "YOU! I know you! Youb--zzzz--cch!" His head jerks as wires suffer their shorts. "You left me to die! You d--zzz--itch! I'll f-fffff--ill you!" Unaware of the damage to his body, he stomps forward. It's more difficult than it should be; he no longer has proper bones and muscles don't work as they should. In his single step, he slumps forward, falling like so much QWOP meat. In the meantime, he'd already begun to swung forth a furious fist, apparently willing to punch THROUGH the bomb to hit the not-Juri that left him to his fate on that terrible island! How's he to know he's mistaken? A Doll is a Doll.
COMBATSYS: Hector can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Blanka 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-----==
As for the bomb itself, its surface menaces with arcs of residual electricity. The wires that have been glued to its surface are melted and burnt, their plastic sheaths letting out a terrible smell. So too is the timer display ruined, its liquid-crystal face having exploded in a nasty-scented puff! Now, who knows how long it'll be until it's supposed to explode?!
COMBATSYS: Hector successfully hits Blanka with Kiloton Blow.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Blanka 1/----===/=======|======-\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|-----==
COMBATSYS: Hector successfully hits Le Bomb with Kiloton Blow.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Blanka 1/----===/=======|======-\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|--=====
COMBATSYS: Blanka interrupts Jumping Knuckle from Allen with Direct Lightning.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Blanka 0/-------/----===|=======\=====--\1 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|--=====
"Wha... ?! No! Blanka never leave anyone ...!" Shock is on his face, Blanka's sudden surprise at Hector's change of demeanor and attack leaving him completely open for the incoming attack. Hit at the same time as the bomb, he's left dumbstruck, and in quite a lot of pain indeed. The hole in the bomb is see-through, and Blanka can look at and through, seeing Allen leaping in at him. In his confusion and shock, he does think it's El Fuerte - his friend, attacking him too!
"Blanka no leave anyone behind!!!" He puts his own fist through the hole that Hector left, and grabs the other fighter by the hand, massive green paw wrapped around Allen's own. He roars, and blue-white chi explodes off his body, coating himself, transferring /through/ the bomb and right into Allen's form. He's panting and heaving afterwards, trying to breathe with the bomb as a new bracelet for his forearm, stuck on him. "Blanka... Blanka no leave people behind. Shadaroo do that. Blanka not.. not Shadaroo!"
Not Shadaloo? Does Blanka realize that he's SUPPOSED to be playing a role? The commentator does his best to cover up for him, though! "Just like that sneaky Juri, trying to disarm her--his opponent with deceit and lies!" The explanation is apparently good enough, as the crowd is still cheering to the point of being deafening. Cries for Shadaloo and Wrestlefriends each strive to drown one another out. In the meantime, the 'bomb' in Blanka's grip is punctured and...leaking. It's not liquid this time; there's a powdery residue that seems to be leaking out of one of many wrapped packages secured inside. Is that supposed to happen?
It's a strange view as he drops in on team Evil. 'Sagat' turns on 'Juri', punching clean through the bomb. Then Juri goes a little nutso... Maybe this is perfectly in character. This wouldn't be so troubling if that didn't involve Allen's fist suddenly being enveloped by Blanka's green mit. "Eh?" he manages a heartbeat before SUDDEN ELECTROCUTION!
Chi hits him like a freight train, every muscle in his body is set to dance to a horrible revolution. When the tide finally ebbs out, Allen is left looking rather toasty in his El Fuerte costume. There's even a bit of flame crawling up the end of the sash looped around his middle. Coppery hair stands up like needles where it can be seen and the smell of burning fills his nostrils.
This. Is a learning experience.
He feels a awful lot like just laying down now. It would be so nice... But the crowd roars, it thunders in his ears like his own heartbeat.
Folks still want a show. People need to see a hero win. He might not be the one they're cheering for, but he's the one beneath the mask.
His wavering posture suddenly steadies, stance firming as his fotting shifts. He drops into a crouch, right fist cocking low next to his hip.
Then there is fire, his spirit pouring fourth surrounding his fist. The fist rockets upwards, carrying him along for the ride as it streaks towards Blanka's funky bracelet.
People have seen this move plenty of times. They might already know it's name. To Allen Snider however, this is called "DRAGON FORCE!"
COMBATSYS: Blanka endures Allen's Dragon Force.
[ \\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Blanka 0/-------/=======|-------\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|--=====
It's just a match. It's just a match! The problem with being a jungle beastman shoved into a world he's still getting the hang of is that occasionally the oddest things can set them off. Blanka's mostly recovered now, mostly bacck to the realization that he's in a match, that 'El Fuerte' is still standing, and that the bomb wrapped around Blanka's wrist is precariously perched and perilously positioned in a way that will make the rest of the fight awkward indeed! Were he to use his lightning, he might set it off, the way it sparks and smoulders. If he goes and punches, he might swing with the wrong arm, and the impact could detonate it - either way, a loss!
And then Allen leaps into the attack and rises up - leaving Blanka no choice but to put his arm behind him, and lean /into/ the hit. Through the fire and the flames he stands, and when it fades out, he's left with singed green skin and his red hair smoking and floofed out. Dizzied, he reacts in the only way he knows how.
Leaning forwards, he tries to fall on Allen. His mouth opens quite wide, and his jaw seemingly unhinges. With one hand behind his back, he tries to use the unencumbered one to grapple the man in front of him. With his mouth, he tries to gnaw the other man into submission, using the tactic known and feared throughout the fighting circuit! From the crowd, a voice rings out..!
"NO BLANKA! NOT THE HEAD BITE!"
COMBATSYS: Allen endures Blanka's Wild Fang.
[ \\\\ < > ]
Blanka 1/------=/=======|=====--\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|--=====
He got him, Allen got him!
The Ginger luchador drops back onto his feet, just waiting for Blanka to topple. Just waiting for the big, green man to drop in a smoldering heap. Just waiting for that strange guy with the floofy, red hair to try and eat his head.
Wait a minute...
OH SHI-!? HE DIDN'T GET HIM, HE DIDN'T GET HIM AT ALL!!!
Jurilanka suddenly falls onto Allen, worn and battered himself, he cannot resist the sexual wiles of the jungle man/woman! Then there are teeth and oh jeesum crow, this will not end well at all!
The mask tastes /NOTHING/ like the real El Fuerte's which likely has a delicious, spicy flavor. The thick material is what saves Allen from having his scalp perforated by all dem teefs. Instead he gets the crushing force of JAWS trying to crack his skull like a egg!
"Get'emOff! Get'emOff! Get'emOff!" prattles Allen franticly as he punches Blanka in the sides, the head, he might even punch himself once or twice on account of
HOLY CRAP, THIS GUY IS TRYING TO EAT MY FAAAAAACE!?
COMBATSYS: Allen has reached second wind!
[ \\\\ < > ////// ]
Blanka 1/------=/=======|====---\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|--=====
COMBATSYS: Blanka fails to interrupt Medium Punch from Allen with Wild Fang.
[ < > ////// ]
Blanka 1/-----==/=======|=====--\-------\0 Allen
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Le Bomb 0|-------|--=====
COMBATSYS: Blanka can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\ <
Allen 0/-------/--=====|
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Le Bomb 0|-------|--=====
Nom nom nom, nom nom nom! Tasty candy wrapper outside a meaty shell, thus is El Fuerte's mask! Blanka chews and chomps while Allen struggles, up until the frantic man manages to get him far enough away that he can begin swinging again. However, Blanka has not had quite enough of chomping yet!
The first two or three punches Blanka takes, and bears through - trying to get the perfect time to finsh off his opponent - and when he sees it, he goes for it. Unhinging his jaw, he tries to snap up Allen's punching hand - but manages to catch it right upside the chin instead! His jaw shuts with an audible *clak*, his head rocks back and Blanka goes down like a rag doll. Glass jaw perhaps - but either way, the beast-man is out like a light!
Punch, punch, punch, punch, punch, clak!
It takes Allen a moment to realize that he got a punch in that mattered, maybe the mask got pulled over his eyes, maybe it was just a heedless rush of adrenaline. For whatever reason it only registers when he feels a weight lifted off of him. He stops, halting a moment to gather his breath and scramble backwards.
He's slow to his feet, but when he gets there he realizes he's the onlyone left standing...
Holy crap, did he actually win?!
"I...I don't believe this! Ladies and gentlemen, coming back from the brink of death... El Fuerte... Wrestlefriends, your King of Fighters re-enactment champions!" The declaration sends the already-energetic crowd into an absolute frenzy! People are starting to pour over one another, pushing left and right and sending others all tumbling down the ranks like some sort of gravity-assisted bodyboarding. OF FLESH. There are police everywhere to try to keep them back, but it's soon apparent that there are just too. Damned. Many. Little by little, fans slip through the barriers and the like, all swarming in to congratulation Allen, who, in their eyes, is the legitemate King of Fighters champion. The 'bomb' lets loose a hydraulic hiss and comes apart at the seam, spilling out an AWFULLY realistic pile of explosive bricks. However, with the wires connecting them all melted, they're relatively harmless. At the very least, there's no danger of it going off from being stepped on.
And that, precisely, is what makes a certain shadowy overlord VERY unhappy. Safe and sound in a well-armored command center deep in the heart of Beijing, Vega himself watches a multitude of monitors with a smattering of his best engineers. One of these specialists is looking extremely ashen right now, and when his vile master places a heavy hand on his shoulder, he knows he's in seriously deep shit. "I was told that our gift would be indestructible..." The poor sod swallows hard and stammers out: "I-i-it is, lord Vega! I mean, it was! But your--the agent, we never thought he would assault it himself, and I can't--cc--kkk!" Ah, it's far too late for him. Vega's hand glows with the terrible power that he holds. It's not enough to torture the incompetent fool. The man's brain is liquified in short order, his body dropping limp as his ears, nose, and mouth begin to...leak.
With a mere half-turn, the Psycho Master gives a different, living-for-the-time-being engineer a new command: "Do it." A button is immediately pushed.
Seconds later, Hector, who'd been struggling to just get up, cursing and spitting and looking like he's having a mild seizure, just shuts up. As though nothing were at all wrong, he lurches up in the most unnatural way, his head lolling and wholly unsupported by any neck muscles whatsoever. "What are...WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP THIS!" As fans are swarming the spot, his limbs lift up and swing out, knocking men and women alike aside. He forces himself to walk through the sea of people, thinking nothing of kicking and stomping through them. The throng is thick around him when he finally stops, caught in the midst of fans and policement alike. "You can't do this! You NEED me! Stop--STOP IIIIIIIIT!"
If the noise of excited fans is loud, the sound that follows is downright deafening. Within Hector's semi-fabricated body, the whole of where his lungs and heart used to be, a most dangerous package comes to life by remote control. Just after hunching down adn clutching at his chest, Hector quite literally explodes! The blast is a massive gout of fire and pressure, sending people flying, launching them back into the stands. Heat and flames scorch the ground in a wide area; a number of folks lie scorched all about where Hector WAS standing. As realization sets in, panic is soon to follow. There is no order in a mob this large trying to escape: people are rushing toward the exit as quick as they can, breaking whatever they have to trample in the process!
COMBATSYS: Le Bomb has left the fight here.
[ \\\\\\ <
Allen 0/-------/--=====|
Log created on 17:18:54 09/18/2011 by Faolan, and last modified on 09:20:38 09/19/2011.