Description: In Edge's first foray into the NDP, he ends up against a seven foot tall monster called MURDERHOUSE. Concussions and lacerations for /everyone/! (Winner: Edge)
Rolling his neck, Mick decided he didn't like it here. A bunch of snot-nosed shits looking down at him, staring at him as he waited. Duffel bag dropped on the floor, dressed in simple jeans and Motorhead shirt, complete with the black hockeymask strapped tightly to his face. He stalked around, seven feet of lean muscle kept active, kept from being stiff. He didn't think about his altercation with a gang of skanks in the mall, didn't think of his drag-out fight with Ken and Ryu, his mind was on the present, kept focused, on the task of hand.
Where the fuck was he?
Where the fuck /was/ Edge.
At the moment, he's nowhere to be found. A rather large contingent of Gedo students has gathered around the pre-determined fighting area, forming an impromptu ring while they wait for one of faithful leader Daigo's second-in-commands to show up. Already a few minutes late, the teenagers are starting to mumble and shuffle before Edge just.. sort of appears from behind the wall, leaping up to perch on one of the thick concrete pillars. He crouches down there, offering a rather smarmy grin down to the hockey-mask wearing meat wall that is Mick. "The fuck are you, some kinda horror movie science bullshit experiment gone bad?" He stops for a moment, glancing around before a mild frown creases his lips. "The hell, where is he. Eh, whatever. I ain't got time to wait for Gan t'stop eating third lunch." He looks back down at Mick, then straightens up before hopping down off the wall, then both hands slip into his pockets. "Alright, shitbrick, let's get this over with! I got homework to start ignoring."
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE has started a fight here.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Edge has joined the fight here.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Edge
Stalking around, pacing, the big man suddenly looked up at Edge as he talked his shit. Mick sneered under his mask and adjusted his right elbow pad, suddenly bolting down toward the bag. It was amazing that he could move that quickly, being that size, as he grabbed from the bag...a grimy looking, deflated basketball, that Mick threw full force at Edge's face.
Being deflated, it probably shouldn't have sailed that fast, and if it hit Edge, it probably shouldn't have hurt -that- bad. And why could some of the onlookers see the vague shape of a tire-iron stuck inside the ball?
Oh well.
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE successfully hits Edge with Large Thrown Object.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Edge
If there was anything Edge couldn't stand, it was someone that couldn't return his shit-talking. Or even react to it. "Fuck you, Vorhees." is muttered, accompanied by a mild sneer of his own before settling into a lazy-looking slouch. Seeing the basketball coming, there was no real particular reason for him to look concerned. Sure, it was flying fast, but it's a deflated basketball. Who ca--
Thunk.
Edge aaaaaalmost gets sent flying ass over teakettle, barely managing to keep one foot on the ground as he teeters backwards, then rights himself again. He rubs a hand across his face, frowning visibly now before he tilts his head to the side, popping his neck. "Alright. That's how things are gonna be, huh?" A low chuckle, rising into a full-on cackle is belted out as the purple-clad thug rushes headlong at Mick, almost looking as if he's aiming to run right into him.. then, at the last minute, he plants a foot and sliiiiiides, leaning down and putting a hand on the ground to help him turn as he skids his way around behind his opponent. From that crouched position, he leaps forward, right arm darting into his jacket and retrieving one of the many army knives hidden within as he tries to slash Mister Murderhouse right across the back.
COMBATSYS: Edge successfully hits MURDERHOUSE with Beat Down.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Edge
Mick watched Edge charge forward, and with his unblinking eyes glaring forward, he patiently gaited into the fray. Of course, Mick being fast for his size didn't make him fast. Edge sprung right over the big man, and seconds later sharpened steel sliced diagonally down his back, slicing his shirt to ribbons, and letting blood ooze down his flesh. Mick didn't even cry out, just grunted. He nodded, then snapped around quickly, reaching his hand out, and grabbing at the hair of Edge, that long, tall target. If he managed this, he'd yank Edge right off his feet, spinning and letting the lad go. He didn't care if Edge landed on his face, or against a wall, or into the basketball pole. He was open to whatever happened.
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE successfully hits Edge with Improvised Throw.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Edge
... he didn't even budge. /Shit./
With nowhere to go but straight to pain city, Edge's oversized haircut becomes a problem. "FUCKING SHIT WATCH THE HAIR YOU PRI--" And before he can finish his sentence, there he goes, whirling about and flying through the air like a rag doll. He hits the ground with a thud, rolling a couple times before just laying there for a second. "... fucking ow." After that momentary respite, he rolls back onto his shoulders before kipping up to his feet. Man, this guy hits like a fucking truck. What to d-- oh hey. Without saying anything, a toe digs under a nearby basketball before Edge flips his foot upward, sending the ball into the air just long enough for him to whirl around, using a roundhouse kick as the propulsion to send the basketball flying for Mick's face.
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE endures Edge's Thrown Object.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Edge
He saw the ball coming, and instead of doing anything remotely rational? Mick reared his head back, then headbutt the ball away, letting it roll out the way, and that mask let Mick hide how much that actually did hurt. He shook his head, then finally spoke. One would expect a giant pro-wrestler to yell all over the place, to be a rude, crude kind of dude, but Mick's voice was soft, almost a whisper. The kind of voice that people subconsciously leaned in so they could hear.
"Sorry about your fag hair there, friend. Let me fix that for you."
He almost grinned as he pulled out from his pocket quickly, a can of hairspray..and a lighter. Working quickly, he used it as an impromptu flamethrower, trying to torch the knife-wielding goon across from him, and not caring if he hit any other students around the goon.
COMBATSYS: Edge parries MURDERHOUSE's House of Fire!
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Edge
Huh. Well, it was going to be one of those sorts of fights, huh? "One of those big fuckin' thick-necks, huh? Ain't scarin' me for shit." One of Edge's eyebrows arches when Mick starts rummaging around in his pockets, then HOLY SHIT GET OUT OF THE WAY. His initial reaction prompts him to just throw himself to the ground, catching himself at the last moment in a sprawling crouch as the fireball ignites and goes right over his head. With that, the teenaged thug just grins. "Fag hair? Sorry 'bout your fag face there, /friend/. Lemme help ya with that." From that low vantage point, Edge tries to take advantage of his position as he springs up from the crouch with aims to bury his shoulder into the massive wrestler's gut. Should that land, he'll straighten up and wrap an arm about Mick's neck, then.. something that should not be scientifically possible occurs when Edge hefts Mick right up off the ground by his neck, getting him vertical before dropping down to the ground and slamming his opponent's skull into the concrete. "
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE fails to counter Brainbuster EX from Edge with Cemetary Gates.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0 Edge
Mick got all of that move. Edge slammed his shoulder into the stomach of Mick, and then, he was hoisted into the air by the smaller man. The seven foot Irish monster was no fool, he knew what this was! He tried to wriggle, worm out the way, but a second later his skull was driven into the ground, and Mick got hit so hard he rolled into a sitting position. He was still out of it though, brains scrambled for the moment.
After driving Mick skull-first into the ground, Edge rolls himself backwards, trying to put a bit of distance between himself and the meat-wall... but when he sees that he's just sitting there, the opportunity was just too good to pass up. The teenager stuffs his hands into his pockets before darting forward again, that low laugh starting to roll into another sharp cackling again as he closes the distance.. "Sorry.. about your.." He stops for a moment, then settles into a crouch, hands still comfortably resting in their pockets. ".. fag..." He hops forward then, his left leg leading as he throws himself into a forward flip. Just a second after his left foot skids to the ground, his right leg trails along after, aiming to bring the heel of his boot rather sharply onto the top of Mick's head. "..LIFE!"
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE blocks Edge's Spinning Axe Kick.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Edge
Mick sat there, his eyes-no irises, just pupils- dazed and staring into space. The big man didn't react when Edge started talking, didn't react in any way shape or form when he crouched low, for all intents and purposes, he seemed brain-dead. Busted, if you will.
So when the foot came down, it would make sense for his head to be split open like an Irish pinata, spilling whiskey glasses and claymore mines for all the little kiddies, right? Not quite. At the last moment, Mick's arm cameup, forearm taking the brunt of that damage, which of course Mick didn't respond to. His eyes just snapped up, glaring right up at Edge. In a flash he worked to his feet, and tried to bring the kid's foot to his shoulder. If this worked, he'd stand up and bearhug the tall-haired hooligan, with his leg still painfully wrenched up like that. But that wasn't all. After a moment, Mick would hoist edge upward, an impromptu and ugly looking "suplex", that hopefully landed him on his neck or skull, behind the "meat-wall" as he was thought of by some.
COMBATSYS: Edge blocks MURDERHOUSE's Power Throw.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Edge
"Th' fuck? You still got some brain cells left?" Edge peers down at Mick, sitting on the ground with a leg propped against the larger man's forearm. Before he can react any further, though, he's being bent in ways meant for yoga classes, with that leg shoved up against his chest. "OW. Fuckin' ay, don't be practicin' your kama sutra shit on me, muscles!" There's a rather pronounced amount of squirming and flailing going on as the grapple is clinched. "OW. Fuck!" Then his eyes go wide when Mick starts to hoist him off the ground. With the momentum and the rather energetic flailing done, however, he manages to slip from the wrestler's grasp before getting slammed onto his skull, rather gracelessly slipping away and scrambling for a bit of distance before putting some weight against the leg that just got wrenched. "Goddamn. .. oh hey, excuse to go see that fuckin' hot school nurse, sweet."
"But first.." Another test of the hurt leg is given before he decides to go ahead with it, pushing forward and moving straight for Mick. Edge charges straight forward again, feigning the possibility of just plowing headlong until the Irishman's chest before he drops down at the last minute, aiming to try and get ahold of the big man's leg. Either one, doesn't matter. If he gets a grip, he'll continue pushing ahead with aims to just pull Mick off his feet and send him toppling onto his face. Once he's down, Edge quickly pivots about and rather shamelessly mimics Randy Savage by raising both arms over his head, pointing to the sky before dropping an elbow right onto the back of the other man's neck.
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE endures Edge's Armed Combo.
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MURDERHOUSE 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\1 Edge
It all worked, and while Mick was face down, he got a Big Elbow Ooooooh Yeah driven across the back of his neck. He grunted...but after a moment, he sprung back up, to his feet...he cocked his arm, and when Edge turned around? Mick wouldn't attempt any fancy takedown, just throw a big, big big Burning Lariat, trying to drop the punk flat on his back using just his arm and his strength. But that wasn't all. If it worked, Mick himself would spring up, and imitate the move of Edge, but this was aided by that massive elbow pad, that thing made of rubber and metal, designed especially for busting up morons. Also aided by nearly 300 pounds of lean Irish muscle, all concentrated, and aimed for Edge's sternum.
...OOOOOOOOH YEAAAAAH!
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE successfully hits Edge with Big Elbow.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/------=|=======\===----\1 Edge
The theme of the moment is pain. He wasn't really expecting the other guy to react so quickly, and there's no real time for Edge to react before he takes a massive arm to the throat. He's knocked ass over teakettle, eventually landing on his back with a thud. After attempting to climb back up to his feet again, only more pain awaits when he's met by 300 pounds of flying Irishman and a very angry elbow pad. That's enough to send him flying again, the wind knocked out of him as he tumbles backwards once, twice, then stops there. For a few brief moments, he just lays on the ground, wheezing for breath before rolling onto his stomach, then back up to his feet.
Edge's head rolls to the side, popping his neck again as he settles into his relaxed crouch, then his hands slip from their pockets. From there, both arms snap into his jacket and lash out just as quickly, and what initially may have been one knife in each hand is exposed to be approximately six in each hand as they fan out just before being thrown, all twelve knives hurtling across the short distance as Edge attempts to make a pincushion out of the Irishman.
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE fails to counter Stake Out from Edge with Cemetary Gates.
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Edge 0/-------/----===|
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE can no longer fight.
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Edge 0/-------/----===|
He saw the knifes hurtling his way, and with his fists clenched, he slowly started walking toward the purple-suited man. THWACK, a knife sunk itself into his right thigh, tapping the femur. Mick walked, his eyes set entirely on Edge. THWACK, THWACK, THWACK!One sinks between his ribcage, another one hits his sternum, and still another sinks itself into his stomach. One slices past his bicep, and his face jerks a bit as one clatters against his hockey mask, making a shallow cut in the hard material before falling to the floor. Another one whizzed past his neck, blood soon dripping down as it misses his juggular by a miracle. %He is within a hair's distance of Edge, his hands on the kid's shoulders before his legs fail, Mick staring into Edge's eyes, and he says one thing, before keeling over on his side, passed out in a river of blood.
"Nice...move."
Darkness. Damn.
The knives were flying, and oh jesus christ that freak is still coming at him. This was not in the plans. Edge goes slightly wide-eyed when Mick, stuck full of knives, gets right in his face and actually gets hands on his shoulders, then.. thud. He glances downward for a moment, then breaks into full-on laughter, throwing his head back and cackling madly for a good ten seconds straight before he tapers off to a rolling laugh again. "Fuck, man, maybe you ain't so bad after all." He's still laughing as he walks to the edge of the fighting area, exchanging a few high-fives amongst his classmates before walking his way over to the oversized meatsack that is his partner in crime. He reaches up and plants a hand on one of Gan's shoulders, then hops up, sitting himself down there before resting his hands on his knees. "Come on, lunchbox, it's fuckin' lunchtime. Let's go knock over a chicken and waffles place."
COMBATSYS: Edge has ended the fight here.
Log created on 13:58:26 12/02/2011 by Edge, and last modified on 23:13:04 12/02/2011.