Description: Shenwoo had an interesting New Year's Eve in his last SNF match. What with El Fuerte and MURDERHOUSE Mick setting him on fire, beating him over the head with chairs and frying pans before tossing him out of the wrestling ring on a crumbled heap. This time though, the speedy Mexican wrestler is set up against the mad Chinese boxer without Mick acting as the party tank. With only DPS on his side, El Fuerte finds out that he's outclassed on a one on one match even if he has the home advantage. (Winner: Shenwoo)
COMBATSYS: ElFuerte has joined the fight here.
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Shenwoo 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 ElFuerte
Shenwoo, the Mad Boxer of Shanghai, God Of Battle, one of the most Wild and Sexy men alive... had had a pretty interesting New Years Eve.
He had spent the night being set on fire, beaten with chairs, frying pans, Backyard Wrassler's wet dream of a weapon and in the end found himself knocked out cold.
All in all it was a pretty good night for the man that charishes the fight over the outcome of the fight. This is why he was so eager to scrawl his name onto the list just as soon as he regained conciousness from the nights events!
This is what brings us here to the Swan Islands, a strip of land far off the coast of Central America's shores. Having arrived by boat earlier, Shenwoo waits in one corner of whatever has been set up to hopefully contain the impending brawl. He squats on a short bench dressed more for a night out on the town than for a afternoon spent in the pursuit of fisticuffs and general rough housing. He waits.
Impaitiently. No matter if El Fuerte popped out of the aether this very moment it will have been too long a wait!
TIME NOT SPENT PUNCHING THINGS IS TIME POORLY WASTED!
So seated on his stooly throne, Shenwoo lifts a large, wax-paper cup to his lips and pokes the straw that sprouts from it's lid into his mouth and takes a long, deep, noisy slurp of the last of the cups original contents.
Shenwoo wouldn't have to wait very long seeing as El Fuerte was already in the vicinity. Latin America is El Luchador's old stomping grounds which means he knew how to make his way to these islands faster than those who are not familiar with these lands. There is...something amiss with him today however, normally he is known for his energetic behavior and a fiery spicy personality that can rival even that of the crazed Shenwoo, today the masked wrestler looks somewhat aloof.
It isn't because he learns that he will have to fight Shenwoo without the assistance of MURDERHOUSE. Oh no, above all else El Fuerte appreciates a fair fight and he is not one to rely on others to do the lucha for him. It is the knowledge that he is far too close to his homeland that worries him. To those with untrained eyes they will see naught but a beautiful tropical paradise, with cool beaches, warm sun and refreshing air. But to someone like El Fuerte who has been here before, he knows that the pretty landscape belies the political turmoil that drenches these sands in blood every day due to the greed of a few.
Whilst Shenwoo is busy enjoying life to its fullest, El Fuerte is seen walking somewhat slowly towards the ring that has been propped in the beach's sands. Brown eyes peering from under his mask to see if any drug cartel gunmen learned of his whereabouts and would seek to end his wrestling career prematurely. By all accounts, he should be happy of being back to Latin America and fighting strong opponents to represent his country, but honestly...he isn't! He doesn't enjoy the fact that he has to watch out all the time for stray bullets when he should be concentrating in the fight. His eyes fall upon the relaxed figure of Shenwoo, watching him there with not a worry in the world, enjoying life to its fullest as it should be enjoyed causing him to envy his cheerful disposition. He wishes he could be as happy as the crazed boxer, but he can't..and that...
Pisses him off.
"I'm back, Hijos de Puta!!" El Fuerte somersaults into the arena and stands on a turnbuckle, muscled arms raised up in defiance. No more fear, no more running away. He has traveled long to gain strength and now he is here to prove what he has learned in his world travels. Now he is strong enough to survive and his first true trial will be to take the devastatingly powerful Shenwooo by himself.
"SUPEEEEER DYNAMIIIC COOKING TIME!"
Honduran Sailors, the only inhabitants of the island erupt in ruckos cheers to greet the bombastic El Fuerte! The somber stalk upto the ring side had worried them. Would this match lack fire, would it lack spice, would it simply be some petty gruel that could barely nourish their hunger to see two men beat the ever loving crap out of one another?
No.
Because it is SUPER DYNAMIC COOKING TIME and that means that their blood lust will be sated... with fire and spice!
Shenwoo's lips work away from their puckered state around the tip of the straw at the sight of El Fuerte, forming a contemplative purse. He too shares the trepidation of the sailors concerning the flavor of the coming bout. The moment his masked opponent bounds up onto the turn buckle however that washes away in the face of a eager, heady rush. A smile carves itself into his face, teeth bared and biting down on the straw between them...
It is difficult to look tough whilst drinking through a straw. Shenwoo is making a good attempt however.
Laying the drink receptacle aside in his corner, Shenwoo rises, bending forward and letting his legs take hiw weight befor drawing himself up to his fuul height. "Hah, that's more like it!" announces the mad boxer, pounding a begloved fist into a likewise begloved hand. The fact that a man sitting at ring-side just struck a hammer against a old, brass bell hardly registers in Shenwoo's mind. He needed no bell to make official the start of the fight. The fact that a opponent was before him was good enough!
Shenwoo sets forward, a cry of 'HaaaaAAAAGH!" loosed as he charges across the ring. His move is plainly telegraphed, left arm cocked back when he's cleared three-fourths of the distance. Easily predicted. The hard, left hook that's coming right for El Fuerte's cheek might require a little bit more than just fore-sight to handle however!
COMBATSYS: ElFuerte blocks Shenwoo's Strong Punch.
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Shenwoo 0/-------/------=|===----\-------\0 ElFuerte
Fret not amigos, whatever may be happening in the world has no effect on El Fuerte. The sizzling fires of lucha libre burn far too strongly to be quenched by petty politics. As El Fuerte leaps down from the turnbuckle, the Honduran sailors and those watching the fight at home will have nothing to fear. The Mexican is here, he's pissed and he's ready to fight!
"Vamos!!" Points the wrestler to the taller boxer as the spiky haired fighter arises to his feet, showing absolutely no fear or second pause after their previous fight with him and Mick. El Fuerte is alone now, though that only means to him that he never really needed help against Shenwoo.
Not one to parlay before a fight, Shenwoo takes the initiative to charge at El Fuerte with a straight haymaker. It is deliberate and predictable enough, but with an opponent like Shenwoo, the wrestler ain't taking any chances! Even if he knows he hits like a truck, El Fuerte decides to stand his ground and catch the impossibly powerful strike with his arms, hurting himself in the process. However, this allows him to swing Shenwoo about by his arm showing his own remarkable strength and go to the back of boxer's head right into the unforgiving turnbuckle!
COMBATSYS: Shenwoo endures ElFuerte's Propeller Tortilla.
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Shenwoo 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 ElFuerte
Shenwoo, like most young men his age, 'knows' that wreastling is fake but will still allow himself to forget such things when he sees two men square off in the center of a ring. Granted, some things claw and rip at this suspended disbeleif, poorly choreographed matches or camera angles that show just a little bit too much air between one man's gut and the other's boot. This suspension is made a little stronger here and now.
With his arm cought after the shallowly planned punch, Shenwoo finds himself whirled, boots scuff and stumble as he is hauled arund by the limb and loosed into the corner, momentum carrying him forward before he can put on the breaks.
The padding that covers the couplink that holds the top ropes in place seems to more asthetics than safety precaution to Shenwoo as his skull bounces off of the steel piece.It sets off a few stars before his eyes but as expected, it will take more than that to crack the impossibly thick skull of Shenwoo, the God of Battle.
He shakes it off, a toss of his head clearing the stars from his eyes as he grips the ropes to his left and his right. His grip tightens a heartbeat befor he uses them to sling him forward, pulling to propel himself towards El Fuerte and out of the corner. The man may recognize it... Then again a punch is still a punch regardless of what twist is put on it.
Do not be mistaken however! There is no twisting involved here, no! This punch, the thrusting of his right fist after it had cocked back past his ear, fingers balled tightly into a punishing bludgeon, had no twist, no turns. His knuckles were on a direct, non-stop flight towards El Fuerte's guarded visage. It was a Face-Seeking Fist-Missile.
COMBATSYS: Shenwoo successfully hits ElFuerte with Gekiken.
- Power hit! -
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Shenwoo 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1 ElFuerte
Ruin upon those that tell El Fuerte, to his face, that wrestling is fake. Those that have had the audacity and great stupidity to such folly have always ended with their heads bashed in against pavement, or their elbows snapped. Shenwoo may be thinking about that Pro Wrestling crap that he watches on the tube, but Lucha Libre is something a lot more primordial. Before martial arts and other fighting styles had been invented, men fought by pinning the other to choke or beat senselessly. The high flying acrobatics and other dexterous feat of Lucha Libre are just to make it look pretty, when it came down to it there was only brutal slams, chokes and submission holds. It is a sport that yields a lot of endurance. Endurance that El Fuerte will need as an atomic haymaker flies directly to his face, far too fast to properly avoid it and slams square on his nose to send him flying backwards to the other side of the ring.
"Mierda!!" The wrestler's mask turns red feeling blood pouring from his nose slightly. He can see why Mick was complaining about his mask getting pummeled after their fight as he now experiences those same attacks. El Fuerte is, however, a wrestler too and it will take more than one punch to defeat him.
Taking a page from Shenwoo's fighting style, El Fuerte launches himself from the ropes and runs with demonic blurring speed towards the crazed boxer. It is not a punch that he throws to his opponent, but a clothesline, as he speeds by him kicking dust behind him and goes to SLAM his forearm right into Shenwoo's neck, hooking him on his bicep to bring his already injured head down onto the mat.
COMBATSYS: Shenwoo blocks ElFuerte's Quesadilla Bomb.
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Shenwoo 0/-------/-======|=======\====---\1 ElFuerte
El Fuerte never quite gets so far as hooking Shenwoo's neck into his arm. Instead of crashing into the vulnerable neck that connects Shenwoo's steel-plated head to his monsterously powerful body, El Fuerte's arm rushes into the bulwark of Shenwoo's lefted shoulder, the man from Shanghai having turned his side to the rushing Luchador and dug his heels into the canvas, stopping the assault cold and perhaps leaving the bloodied, masked man a little surprise at his sudden stop!
To capitalize on this moment, Shenwoo's hands join, fingers intertwine turning two fists into one, larger fist! To Shenwoo, this is a ground-breaking technique of combining two punches into one, a veritable feat of genius in the world of punching things really hard before that thing or yourself falls over! To El Fuerte, it might just be painful!
Bringing his fists up over his head, Shenwoo then brings them both down, trying to smash the masked wreastler right on the top of his head and leave him staggered long enough for a possible follow through!
COMBATSYS: ElFuerte blocks Shenwoo's Kouryuu-Geki.
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Shenwoo 0/-------/=======|=======\======-\1 ElFuerte
El Fuerte wouldn't say that he's surprised at Shenwoo's defensive tactics. He has fought this fellow before, far too soon in fact, and he knows very well that striking the man from Shanghai is the equivalent of punching a concrete wall. Or getting punched by one in that case. El Fuerte's running lariat slams not against the relatively soft neck he sought but the broad shoulder of Shenwoo, stopping him dead on his tracks as he bounces off the proverbial wall to land on his feet.
Then those hands lock to be raised and brought down upon his head like a sledgehammer. Which is for all accounts, a wrestling move. "Hrgg!!" This insight serves El Fuerte well, being familiar with such strikes he raises his own arms up going for the overhead block, curled fists meeting a guard shaped like an X as it prevents it from hitting his head. The blow causes his arms to go numb slightly, but he much rather take it on the forearms than on the brain where all kind of delicious cooking recipes reside.
Once the arms are caught, El Fuerte proceeds to grasp them both with his own hands and slam his feet on Shenwoo's abdomen to pull him backwards and flip him over with a Judo throw, aiming to force him and land back first. "Andale!!"
COMBATSYS: Shenwoo endures ElFuerte's Medium Throw.
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Shenwoo 1/-------/=======|=======\=======\1 ElFuerte
His twinned fists meet not luchador skull, but instead Luchador arms! This surprising development seems to please Shenwoo! His manic grin cutting across his features in a even wider swath than it had just a heart beat before. Ho? Persistant!" he appraised before El Fuerte made quick work of countering the assault. His arms are locked in the wrestler's grip, anchoring him there for the quick set of boots that get planted into his middle, forcing a 'Hoof!' out of the blonde man and allowing El Fuerte to send him for a short flight through the air that ends with him falling flat on his back onto the mat! The ring rattles and rocks faintly with the impact. Shenwoo rolls with it however, the kick and the drop manage to take it out of him.. but not much. He scrambles to his feet and flies after El Fuerte, the God of Battle fully lost in the ebb and flow of a good, straight fight!
Boots chase the Luchador down, trying to catch him just as he's getting to his feet or before! His hands join again, linking together down near his left hip. El Fuerte managed to block this one last time! Could he manage it again after having been weathering the furious assault of the Mad Boxer alone?!
We shall see!
Twinned fists sweep uop with all the tenderness and care of a sledge hammer, seeking to take the man in the tights off his feet!
COMBATSYS: Shenwoo knocks away ElFuerte with Fusen Kyaku.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
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Shenwoo 1/----===/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 ElFuerte
As El Fuerte gets back to his feet and turns around, he recognizes the upwards sledgehammer strike as an attack Shenwoo had thrown at him before. Yes, he was able to block it last time, but now his arms where very bruised from the continued beatings the boxer, if you call him that more like brawler, threw at him. And as he raises his arms to stop the attack from hitting his chin, it seems that the answer to the question of 'will he be able to stop it?' is a resounding. No.
"HRGGG!!" Though El Fuerte tries to stop the strike to his jaw by putting his arms in the way, they get slammed and Shenwoo is able to bash through his defense to hit him in the chin anyway. The wrestler's head is violently pushed upwards with blood being spat from his mouth as he staggers backwards, clearly dazed. "Chingada....." There's that grumbling Spanish cuss word that El Fuerte had muttered earlier. The wrestler forces himself from falling on his back completely, changing his momentum to push himself forward and just throw a desperate haymaker of his own directly at Shenwoo's face before he falls down.
"HRAAAA!!"
COMBATSYS: ElFuerte has reached second wind!
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Shenwoo 1/----===/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 ElFuerte
COMBATSYS: Shenwoo interrupts Strong Punch from ElFuerte with Zetsu! Gekiken.
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Shenwoo 0/-------/----===|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 ElFuerte
Earlier, Shenwoo had been worried.
Worried that this fight wouldn't be worth his time. That the spry Luchador wouldn't measure upto expectations.
So when the Luchador staggers backwards, bloodied and struck. Shenwoo worries that any moment now a heel will be planted unfirmly, a step will go awry. That El Fuerte will fall. He doesn't however. Instead he speaks.
He speaks a word that sounds chinese but clearly isn't... because Shenwoo knows all of the dirty words in chinese. And then El Fuerte comes at him again with one, good strong punch.
How delightful!
It would be rude of Shenwoo to not meet the challange of a straight punch, ungentlemanly infact!
Of course, Shenwoo is no gentleman.
He'll still answer the call however.
"What the hell does that EVEN MEAN?!" he roars as he grinds a heel into the mat and reels his entire body back, a fist cocked like the hammer of a gun. His soul goes into that punch, his lust for the fight, not victory, not defeat. Just his burning desire to fight. It fills his knuckles, a spiritual offering to the ancient gods of Lucha and Wrestling. A sign of thanks for this battle that has caused him to break a sweet to feel the pain that another man with a desire for victory can inflict.
When El Fuerte nears, Shenwoo bestows upon him this offering. Shenwoo's fist is the check meant for the tithing bowl, El Fuerte's face is the hat that gets passed around.
His soul is inside of this punch as it flies forward, seeming to pull his body along behind it rather than being propelled by it. Fists cross in the air twixt their destinations. El Fuerte's finds home against the nose of the Wild and Sexy God of Battle. Not nearly enough to break it but enough to fill his head with that nice 'got punched in the schnoz' ring that radiates out from the point of impact!
It is actually something that El Fuerte can appreciate, even if he ain't no boxer. For all his flair El Fuerte does tend to be quite ruthless in his battles, not so much because that is his nature, quite the contrary seeing as he's a pretty cheerful guy, but more so just because he's a product of his environment. It is why only he seems to be able to get along with someone named like MURDERHOUSE, he gravitates to violence of this nature, he relishes in the chaos, a thing he shares with Shenwoo even.
And it is because of this that when Shenwoo goes for the punch for punch strategy, El Fuerte actually grins.
Right before he gets punched in the mouth.
"HMFFGRAAA!!" The luchador is sent back to the ropes again, flying backwards with blood pouring from his lips. That one hurt quite a bit, he's once again dazed, but still he must press on for the sake of Lucha Libre. Bouncing from the ropes, he rushes with the furious speed that remains with him staring at Shenwoo through a blood stained mask. "It means---
"FUUUUUUUUCK!!"
Snarls El Fuerte Luchador, going down low to grasp Shenwoo by the legs and heave him up. Running along with him on arms to then drop backwards and supplex him into the ground, letting him land on his face! %
COMBATSYS: ElFuerte can no longer fight.
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Shenwoo 0/-------/----===|
COMBATSYS: ElFuerte successfully hits Shenwoo with El Fuerte Spark.
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Shenwoo 0/-------/=======|
That's the thing about wrestling ring ropes that Shenwoo forgot. They're springy!
El Fuerte rebounds off the ropes. Shenwoo thought to greet him with a fist again but he found himself a bit lacking in the department of offerings to give upto the Lucha gods on high. Instead! Shenwoo readied himself for a bit more pain to be heaped ontop of this already delicious sundae.
Caught in the midst of El Fuerte Spark, there is little for the Mad Boxer of Shanghai to do save for filing the profanity away for future use. Shenwoo can truely come away from this fight having learned something.
Well, two things.
The first being that turn buckles kinda hurt!
His mind really shouldn't have wandered there. Not now that the ring mat is suddenly rushing up to greet him!
He is planted like a Agave seed, face nearly burried into the ring with the harty suplex!
Still... when his brain clears of the fog of impact, Shenwoo hauls himself off of the mat. Fresh blood dots the mat where he had been drilled into it. Knuckling the space above his upper-lip, Shenwoo finds the source.
Still! With he the only one that stood up from that hellacious buster, a man with a hammer strikes it against a bell as if he had any real say in when the fight was over.
The crowd cheers. He may not have been the favorite, but god damned if it wasn't a show!
Log created on 16:45:25 01/07/2012 by ElFuerte, and last modified on 09:23:26 01/09/2012.