Description: Bartitsu Mask vs. Pro Wrestler Vyle. The only thing that didn't get tossed in that ring was their lunches. Punches, kicks, throws, and a much deserved kick to the groin. All is fair in love, war, and SNF. Just don't kill each other. That's a bad idea. (Winner: Vyle)
SlamMasters Arena. The Mecca of the Mat in the United States, and possibly the world. It's the center of professional wrestling and has hosted many epic matches, many of them including the great and revered Mike "Macho" Haggar himself. Tonight though....
Tonight, the squared circle will end up hosting a fight that will not be known for its technical prowess, and probably not for its great feats of strength either. What it will be known for though, at the very least, is another worldwide spectacle. That's right, as the announcer says himself, "Ladies and Gentleman, children of all ages, welcome to SlamMasters Arena in world renowned Metro City. Tonight, we bring you....SATURDAY! NIGHT! FIGHTS!!! The cheers come loud and wild, a mix between the usual wrestling crowd and other street fighting aficionados. "Introducing first....in his return to SlamMasters Arena in years, former CWA tag team champion, worldwide lucha libre superstar, and current competitor in the Neo Development Project circuit...he is....THE SICKNESS, VYYYYYYYYLE!
o/` Two tapes in the deck, set to dub over, press record and absorb the Subculture! o/`
The boos rain down HARD as purple and green lights strobe around the arena, the rudo not losing his touch or his heat. Laughing to himself and brushing through his mohawk as he comes out onto the stage, he makes sure to heel it up with several obscene gestures to the crowd, before charging down the ramp to the ring. Sliding underneath the ropes, he spins in place, hands gesturing in an upraised beckoning motion, as if begging the crowd to hate him more.
Soak it up while you can, Vyle. Your opponent was coming.
America was a new, foreign place to a Japanese woman like Fuj-- I mean, Bartitsu Mask. Her mask had been seen on the television once or twice. She got beat by a knife wielding maniac a few weeks prior and was looking to unload some solid justice. She had to research a little to find a little bit more about the tall man with the Mohawk-- or at least have it dictated to her, anyways.
Amidst Vyle's celebration and waving and gesturing, the lights flaked out to nothing.
c/' Sweet dreams are made of these... Who am I... to disagree... c/'
Could never go wrong with Marilyn Manson.
A spotlight lit up the ramp, and there stood a much smaller person than Vyle. A woman, on top of that. All black. Black top hat. Black cape. Black suit. A white mask with Black eyes, and an unnerving smile to boot. She stood at the top of the ramp, and began to walk forward slowly.
"...And his opponent... weighing in at 113 pounds... The only unorthodox fighter in the NDP Circuit. She is the cunning, the gracious... BARRR--- TITSU.... MAAAAAAAAASSSK!" She had a microphone in her hand. Her slow steps turned into an almost full sprint, and in a bound, she slid beneath the ropes, and righted herself. Her music cut out. "Did they always stack crap like you so high?" She asked, so the whole crowd could hear it.
A thunderous roar. Metro City approves.
Oh ho...now this was new. Vyle's certainly seen all types of characters in his time in wrestling. But someone looking like they were straight out of some 19th century novel. It was kind of creepy really, but hey, creepy only takes you so far. As the masked Bartitsu Mask arrives and gets on the mic, the rudo leaned back against the ropes, scowling. And that taunt...well, it was generic, but it did the trick as far as getting the crowd behind her. Rolling his eyes, he gestured to get a mic from the timekeeper. Once he's got a stick, he turns back to B. Mask.
"You know...I heard it all. God knows how many times I've heard that line already. Usually without the self-censoring too. But you know what?" He scowled a little, shaking his head. "I don't mind. I know I'm a rotten piece of crap that these fans would loooooooove to see get beaten down, even if it's some kind of....bargain basement phantom of the local children's theatre or whatever you think you are." He slowly walks up toward Fuji, mic still lifted to mouth level. "But you know what...not happening. Not happening, because here's what's going down tonight. Tonight, the only thing you're stealing is a ride to Metro City General. The only thing you're haunting his a hospital bed. And the only mask you're gonna need after tonight is a gas mask, because this walking piece of crap is gonna breathe his nasty sewer fumes so far down your throat you'll be spitting **** for the next three weeks. I am Vyle...and you...are just another casualty to the sickness."
The boos come, and Vyle tosses his mic away, backing off long enough to taunt and jaw at B. Mask off mic...but from what he's mouthing, it's certainly nothing polite.
Trash talk. The best part about wrestling. The Mask stood there quietly, she didn't even flinch the closer he got to her. That creeepy ass mask. The fact Vyle would be unable to see her face, or her facial expressions. She stepped forward, just as Vyle threw his microphone back to the timekeeper.
"You boys are a lot the same." she mused over the mic. "Let me tell you what's going to happen here, tall, grim, and ugly." A thunderous roar. She put her hands up. The crowd stopped. "Here's... what's going to happen. You and I will proceed to fight. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be such a beaten up shell of the man you once were not even your uncle would want to talk to. Metro City General? I got news for you. The only place they got available for you is located behind Andretti's pizza in the dumpster. I hear the locals might like your pretty mouth."
Owned.
"...But for now. I got a message. From my boots, to your ass. We'll be home soon."
She tossed the microphone down then. She was ready to go.
COMBATSYS: Fuji has started a fight here.
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Fuji 0/-------/-------|
Well, well, well. This girl may be no wrestler, but she definitely knew how to talk the talk. That's admirable, and even Vyle had to find himself nodding. Good response. Of course, there was the difference between talking the talk, and walking the walk. And Vyle definitely knew how to handle himself in a wrestling ring. For all his reputation, he had legitimate grappling skills. He really could make a good living being a hero to all in the vein of Zangief, and El Fuerte, and Tizoc, and others.
But good is just so borrrrrrrrrrrrrring! It's why Vyle's never had a face run in his career ever: it's just too fun getting people to hate you, and the easiest way to get them to hate you was to flaunt the rules as much as possible without getting caught. And while this was hardly under normal pro wrestling rules, the expectations are there. So why not subvert them by doing what he does best: be as ugly and underhanded as possible? And what's more underhanded than spitting a big cloud of ugly, poisonous mist right toward your foe's face?
As if the crowd needed more reason to boo, the fact that Vyle decides to show he hasn't changed one goddamned whit since he got kicked out of the industry is more than enough reason.
COMBATSYS: Vyle has joined the fight here.
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Vyle 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Fuji
COMBATSYS: Fuji blocks Vyle's Venom Breath.
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Vyle 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Fuji
Bartitsu Mask read up on Vyle earlier. He was the type who focussed on grapples. She was no grappler, but she was more than ready to fight him. She tried her best to ignore the crowd. The top hat was removed, and thrown over the ring-side, She pulling her jacket sleeves up her wrists, clenching her fists as she faced them palm up. Bartitsu. Huh. Never heard of it.
The Mask had an immediate counter to Vyle's Breath-- She was right there. The very instant he opened his mouth, she covered it with her palm. There. Breathe your own breath, punk. She could still pick up the residue of it, though. My god. It was less poisonous so much as it stank! She had to get him away-- in this proximity, his breath would be lethal. She reached forward, in an attempt to grab his arm, and whip him towards the ropes.
But not before she'd deliver an open handed slap to his head as he'd hopefully pass by.
COMBATSYS: Vyle dodges Fuji's Momentum Toss.
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Vyle 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Fuji
Oh ho, so the masked girl knew how to Irish whip too. This made things even more interesting. Too bad Vyle knew damn well how to handle himself when sent into the ropes too. As the hit the ropes, he turned around, using his back to take the ropes as the momentum slung him in, and then the rope tension slung him forward again. When the slap sent for his head comes though? He just ducks and keeps running. Simple way to avoid it, and it opened up SO much options.
Options like him leaping to catch the second rope with his feet. Bracing with his hands on the top rope for balance, he used that same rebounding principle to slingshot himself back toward Bartitsu Mask. As he flew back, he turned, trying to whip a flying high kick straight toward that goofy mask of hers.
COMBATSYS: Fuji dodges Vyle's Light Kick.
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Vyle 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Fuji
The Mask felt nothing but air as the wrestler came straight after her after rebounding on the ropes. As this was a Saturday Night Fight, she knew that he was not to be taken lightly, but the simple fact to the matter was, he was still the heel, and she was still the face of the match. The face didn't always win, but neither did the heel. It weas a mode of eternal and unbiased balance. Why it kept pitting her against people with a much bigger reach, she had no idea. It was like trying to box against Minute Bol and his massive reach. That's how the Mask felt about things.
The flying kick came high and fast, but as it seemed, Mask didn't seem to move, until the very last second, where the mask simply crouched to be underneath Vyle as he soared overhead, but something was in the way
Her cape?
A blinding maneuver, for the uppercut being delivered from below.
COMBATSYS: Vyle blocks Fuji's Blinded Me With Science.
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Vyle 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Fuji
Scowling at the missed kick, Vyle growled...and was forced to bring his arms up even as the kick sailed over, catching the pop-up uppercut on it as it adds a little momentum to his flight. As such, he ends up in a weird extra spin, falling back into the ropes once he gets back on his feet. "Nnn..."
Leaning back into the ropes, he goes for another slingshot, this time trying to get enough momentum to slide beneath the girl. The idea? Catch her by the ankle and pull it out from under her long enough to wrench the joint, and wrench it HARD! If it works out? She'll be feeling it for a long while, especially if she tries to keep weight on it.
COMBATSYS: Vyle successfully hits Fuji with Improvised Throw.
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Vyle 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Fuji
The Ankle wrench catches her hard, and the Mask hits the mat, clutching her ankle. She would have surely broken it if she didn't spin out of it the last moment. She slowly climbed to her feet, and though she had a slight limp, she was initially fine. The dark haired woman shifted then. Her Bartitsu stance. It almost look more like a Muy Thai stance just because it was just her toes touching the mat on her right foot. She needed to suprise him with something. She stepped forward, seemingly set up to do some kind of Aerobatical maneuver, She did a full spin. Where did that ball of energy come from? Why is she dropping it? Oh crap....!
"...STRIKER...!"
COMBATSYS: Vyle dodges Fuji's Striker Blast.
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Vyle 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Fuji
Vyle wrenches on the ankle as much as he can, growling and twisting at it, until B. Mask manages to spin herself out and escape from the hold. Not a big loss, he was never a technical or submission guy as it was. But he does find himself kind of dumbfounded by the Bartitsu stance. Definitely not something he's seen before, though the similarity is there. "The hell are you...."
And then the energy ball forms. "Oh hell no, he says, racing for the ropes again. This time, he leaps up to the very top rope, using it to backflip over the Striker Blast as it drops and nearly tags him. Landing on his feet, he reoriented himself and spun himself back around to face the Bartitsu fighter. Narrowing his, eyes, he pulled a hand back, and charged in. While he reels back as if going for a lariat, he ends up stopping low, instead thrusting it straight toward her gut as if trying to impale her right on his fingertips. And then there's that dull, sickly green energy surrounding his fingertips....
COMBATSYS: Fuji blocks Vyle's Injector.
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Vyle 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Fuji
The Blast didn't do what she wanted to. The only benefit to it was that it left her in a better stance to defend herself. The blast missed, but she knew that Vyle, regardless of what was happening, was gravely underestimating the Mask and her power. The sheer fact that she could conjure energy should have been reason enough to at least cause him the slightest of worries. Again, however, rather than press the attack, the Mask waited. She knew Vyle would be back and ready to dispense something her way. She could sense his presence. She braced for the lariat, but sensing him go low, her arm shot out, fully deflecting the blow meant for her stomach. She could smell the energy. Like acid. It would have eaten away at her. But while he was this close-- she had a plan. Her favorite kind of plan. She did the most sensible thing after that.
She became a woman.
...And tried to boot him in the junk.
COMBATSYS: Fuji successfully hits Vyle with Strong Kick.
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Vyle 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Fuji
It's not like Vyle hasn't faced energy slingers before. Just about every fight he's learned to expect someone to do something like that. Hell, it's one of the reasons why he's been forced to work on such things in his free time. Still, he was easily prepared for such things when it came to. What he wasn't prepared for was to have his Injector blocked. That...irritated him, especially when he thought he feinted the lariat so well. And then...
Well, in Mexico, this would be a foul and would have been grounds for suspension. In America, it was grounds for a Disqualification loss. And the crowd is even shocked by the blow until they remember that it's all legal. Vyle? Well...he finds himself talking just a little higher for the next few minutes. Or would if he bothered saying anything. Instead, it comes out more as a scream of pain.
Still, Vyle was used to this too...he had to fight through low blows before in wrestling, and he'll have to do so right now..and he does a decent enough job of it, aiming to grab one of B. Mask's arms and yanking on it, falling back as he tried to arm whip her hard onto her back.
COMBATSYS: Vyle successfully hits Fuji with Medium Throw.
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Vyle 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Fuji
Take that...!
The kick connected, and the sudden scream of pain? Well. For lack of a better word, it was music to Fuji's ears. However, she was not expecting Vyle to be able to be so mobile so quickly, and the grab that came for her as he fell back actually sent her over the top ropes, where she landed onto the mats over the concrete with a mighty thud. Ow. She stood up then, wincing off the pain. She was still fine-- truth be told, she was enjoying this fight. Sorta. The dark haired woman shifted. She remembered there being weapons and other things under the mat, as was announced to them earlier. It was no holds barred, everything was legal aside from shooting each other and stabbing each other to death. an "I Quit" Match. No ref, nothing. A second later, she emerged from underneath the mat-- with a garbage can.
Seriously?
Serious enough-- for she, in a single bound, had jumped to the top ropes. If they're going to play it up, it may as well look awesome...!
Overhead GARBAGE CAN SMASH...!
COMBATSYS: Vyle counters Light Random Weapon from Fuji with Antidote.
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Vyle 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Fuji
Vyle groaned as he pulled himself back up to his feet. Even if he managed to get a good arm whip on her, he was still feeling the effects of that kick. And that spelled bad news if he couldn't think of a way around this. Grabbing his stomach and pulilng himself back up to his feet by the ropes, he grit his teeth and tried to find just where that masked woman went. "Where the hell..." he mutters...until she comes out with a garbage can.
Somehow, he found himself...smirking? Yeah, he was smirking. Why? Because he already figured she wasn't the type to be sacrificial enough to dive straight at him with the can. No, the can was coming in one direction: straight overhead. And that meant he already knew what he needed to do.
Stepping in as soon as B. Mask comes off the top rope, he dipped in under the arc of her swing, an arm lifting up to catch her across the chest as soon as she landed. The garbage can swung down behind him, and now? Now he could do whatever he wanted to do to her...and what he did? He grabbed on to her near thigh from underneath with his other arm, and lifted her up high, until he dropped down to a sitting position, letting her jaw crash down into his shoulder, and her tailbone straight down onto the canvas.
The much smaller woman was so easily countered. She may have had some moxy. She probably could have been a great tag team partner for a scumbag like Vyle. Who would have known? Stranger things in this world have happened, like some Jay Leno wannabe in red leather running around trying to destroy the world. She knows-- she fought him and nearly died in the process. The dark haired woman was caught with the arm across her chest. She almost immediately dropped the can, the tin bouncing around the ring as she slammed into the mat. Her head turned town, pulling her jaw away from his shoulder before contact.
But her tailbone?
Dear god. That was worse than her first time with her ex-boyfri-- you know what? Nevermind.
As she hit the mat, Bartitsu mask had tried to ready a counter. Even though she played it up for the crowd that she hurt more than she wanted to, she tried to get his head into a DDT style hold, so she could fall back, an attempt to DDT him from this awkward sitting position. If it connected? She'd push off, in an attempt to give Mr. Mohawk a Rug-Noogie he'd never forget.
COMBATSYS: Fuji successfully hits Vyle with Ragtime Cat.
- Power hit! -
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Vyle 1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\0 Fuji
Well, that's surprising. He figured that the Antidote would jar her a little too much to pull something like that. But Vyle apparently underestimated Bartitsu Mask, especially considering how awkward it was to DDT from that low a position. But apparently, she manages, and grinding his head into the mat for good measure. And that HURT. That surprisingly hurt. "UGhngnhhgh..."
Clutching the top of his head, he rolled away, teeth gnashed. He was hurting now...but he's not about to give her the satisfaction of that last attack. "Oh, you are so dead you miserable little foppish b-" His curse gets cut off however, as he shot in, trying to slide behind B. Mask and give her a hard German Suplex straight onto her neck.
COMBATSYS: Fuji blocks Vyle's Strong Throw.
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Vyle 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\1 Fuji
The Mask was so willing to let him get up after that one. She's never varied her attack like that. Her head canted, and when the suplex came for her, She let the much larger man grab at her. She wanted to finish him off soon. and knew it wouldn't be long before the match would be over. Her head turned, and the woman was almost going to be suplexed-- when she pushed out of the suplex mid-air, backflipping. She landed on her back. She was summoning a ball of energy again, and the woman rolled onto her back. This ball.
Was much. Much. Bigger.
"STRIKER...!"
COMBATSYS: Vyle blocks Fuji's Striker Blast Omega.
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Vyle 1/---====/=======|-------\-------\0 Fuji
Slippery little minx, isn't she? Vyle feels B. Mask pull out of the German Suplex, quickly rolling onto his stomach as he feels his grasp empty now. He's still got a step off from that low blow, but he's recovering, and when the giant ball of energy blasts out at him....well, it's too large to dodge like the last time.
So he just crosses his arms and takes it, the blast pushing him back against the ropes. The energy burns into his forearms, but he seems to avoid the worst of it, waiting it out until it disappates. He groans, sneering toward B. Mask. "What...that's all you got? I got burned worse from your mom's VD," he sneers. Oh, he went there...of course, it was mostly a stalling tactic right now. Just buying time to get a breather.
COMBATSYS: Vyle gains composure.
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Vyle 1/----===/=======|-------\-------\0 Fuji
"My parents are dead to me." The mask replied then.
Crap. What a bad time to have an internal monologue. In all reality, Mask couldn't see her family as family any more. They shut her out when she went to become something. They attacked her when she came to visit them after years. What kind of family is that...? She looked up then. That stupid, cheshire like smile on that mask. Something was off about the woman standing in front of Vyle. Suprisingly sturdy for such a small person. It was no wonder SNF paired her against him. She righted then, and lifted her hands. The left lifted, to summon Vyle forward. "Come on, Sweet cheeks. Stop being a baby and hit me already...!
Famous last words.
COMBATSYS: Fuji takes no action.
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Vyle 1/----===/=======|-------\-------\0 Fuji
Huh. Hit a sore spot, did he? Vyle doesn't mind that, unless it's a sore spot in a way that makes it impossible to follow up on his taunts and calculated meanness. "Oh, is that so? Guess they had something against their little girl running around like some damn mime or something. Did Marcel Marceau come back from the grave to tell you to lay off his look?" Of course, it takes a lot to find a line he won't cross.
And B. Mask holding back to provoke Vyle back gave him enough of a breather to come back again, this time flying in straight toward her face with a charging drop kick.
COMBATSYS: Fuji interrupts Light Kick from Vyle with Chin Music.
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Vyle 1/--=====/=======|==-----\-------\0 Fuji
Mask didn't need to say anything now. She knew the fight was about to near it's conclusion-- the kick came soaring for her, and strangely enough, the woman seemed to endure it. She wanted to make sure to check her timing. She could sense his guard to drop to kick at her-- which, while he did it often, felt improvised and relatively unpolished. She sucked her shoulder back, to absorb his blow, and return it, with a swift, swift, painful jaw uppercut. She actually did a small jump with it, in an effort to propel him upwards.
"...CHEEEEN MUS--EEEK...!" God damn accent ruins everything.
Oh damn. Now that wasn't expected. And it took some masterful positioning to get ready for that uppercut as Vyle flipped back from his dropkick. Just as he was about to land, he gets popped back up again, slamming down on hard onto the ground face first to compound the damage. The crowd loves it of course, and they seem to be roaring for more.
Can't have that now, can he? "Oh, you are so dead..." he groans, charging to try and tackle her with a sharp double leg takedown.
COMBATSYS: Fuji blocks Vyle's Outbreaker.
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Vyle 0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0 Fuji
As Vyle charges, it becomes clear his tackle attempt is more than just a tackle. As he goes for B. Mask, he seems damn intent on turning her over into some kind of lock too. But...will she let him?
Again, Mask seemed perfectly apt to accept the fact that Vyle was just as lethal as she believed. She was actually getting pretty tired. Or at least, she was starting to slow down a little bit. As she noticed, however, so was Vyle. She could admire a person who could at least stand toe to toe with her. He hasn't actively tried to stab her-- that was always a plus, you know. The dark clothes of the woman stepped back, absorbing the tackle, her feet sliding on the mat up and against the ropes. She knew she had to take him down quick-- and she'd try, completely avoiding the second part of his attack, trying to circle around him and Suplex the huge man herself...! For a tiny asian woman, the bitch hits like a small car. Like a Daewoo Lanos running over a small puppy.
COMBATSYS: Fuji successfully hits Vyle with Medium Throw.
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Vyle 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Fuji
He wouldn't admit it, but Vyle was getting worn down too, but he wasn't about to make this an easy fight. Even when she manages to roll out of his tackle, he tries to make it hard on her...but that fatigue shows through when she's able to succeed where he failed, suplexing him from behind and sending him crashing onto the mat. Rolling out onto the apron, he feels his head spin.....but see, this is where Vyle is deadliest.
"I knew you...*cough* were the kind to go down," he sneers, pulling himself back up to his feet by the top rope...then pulling himself up, jumping onto the top rope and springing off. This time, it's no drop kick. Instead, he's literally trying to stomp into the top of Fuji's head as much as he can before he lands.
COMBATSYS: Vyle successfully hits Fuji with Riot Stampede.
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Vyle 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Fuji
The Boot finds it's mark, and Mask begins to waver, especially as the boot finds its home. Bartitsu Mask had thrown her hands up, but the foot just charged through the block, hitting her, but not very hard. It forced her against the ropes, but also acted similar to a springboard, the woman turning instantly and coming straight at him.
Kick to the stomach. D.D.T. into the floormats. Rugburn Rush. Come on... just get the boot up, Fuji...!
COMBATSYS: Vyle dodges Fuji's Ragtime Cat.
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Vyle 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Fuji
Vyle isn't about to get caught like that twice. When he sees B. Mask coming for him with the intent on a toe kick to the gut, he sidesteps the kick, instead turning to the side and trying to use that momentum against her. How? He simply tries to drop down and scissor at her legs, hoping to get her to drop face first into an old fashioned drop toe hold...oh, and look, that garbage can from earlier would be right in her path!
COMBATSYS: Fuji endures Vyle's Quick Throw.
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Vyle 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Fuji
The woman was almost instantly locked into the toe-hold, and yes, she did land on that garbage can. Both fighters were incredibly tired by now-- they had been hurting each other all evening. The dark haired woman didn't even need to look. She knew she wouldn't be able to move. She DID have something readily available, thoug. She may have landed on the can-- but that didn't prevent her from using it as a defense against him....!
Boom. Headshot.
COMBATSYS: Vyle counters Light Random Weapon from Fuji with Antidote.
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Vyle 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Fuji
Unfortunately, it's not to be. As the garbage can comes out again, Vyle pitches out of the way, avoiding the attempted swing at his face, and instead using the chance to lock in an armbar on the very arm she had been using to swing it toward his face. Growling, even the exhausted Vyle finds himself shouting at Fuji. "TAP! TAP! TAP!!!" And the crowd? They pick up on this, chanting "PLEASE DON'T TAP! PLEASE DON'T TAP! PLEASE DON'T TAP!"
The woman wasn't about to tap just yet. She knew her body has had enough. And knew Vyle was close enough to being in the same boat as her. Her head lifted. She was in visible pain. She lifted her head, reaching for the ropes in an attempt to reach them. They were too far away. Okay. Too far away. She's gonna pass out soon. She knows it. Time for plan B.
Wild Haymaker.
Thud. That was it for her.
COMBATSYS: Fuji can no longer fight.
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Vyle 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Vyle dodges Fuji's Quick Punch.
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Vyle 0/-------/---====|
Thankfully, Vyle has enough leverage and positioning advantage that all it takes is a further lean back from Fuji and a harder wrenching on the arm to avoid the wild, last ditch punch toaward his face. "TAP, DAMMIT!!" he screams at Bartitsu Mask, hips thrusting up against that elbow hard enough that if she doesn't tap, he just might break that arm.
DON'T TAP. DON'T TAP....
God dammit. She didn't want to give in to this man of all things, but when the pain just became too much, The mask did the right thing. Her arm lifted. And she banged it three times on the mat. She couldn't handle it no more. If anything, though. Even in losing, she still could find herself respecting someone like him. Even if his name was Vyle.
She wondered what his real name was. Was he actually a nice guy under that heel attitude of his?
Even if Vyle really wanted to break the arm, he was too exhausted to maintain the hold longer than he had to. The bell rings, Vyle releases the arm and slides away, and the crowd? It explodes into Jeers. Sure, even if Vyle wasn't able to do his usual post-match provocations, he just inspired that much heat. Pulling himself up from the mat, he hung on to the top for support until the referee climbed in to raise his hand. "HERE IS YOUR WINNER.....'THE SICKNESS', VYYYYYYYYLLEE!!!"
Pulling his arm away, he glanced toward B. Mask...not another word from him, just a shake of his head, before he dropped to the mat, rolled out, and slunk away. The fact that she managed to fight him into silence though? That's a definite moral victory for anyone.
COMBATSYS: Vyle takes no action.
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Vyle 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Vyle has ended the fight here.
Log created on 20:55:22 04/17/2012 by Fuji, and last modified on 09:23:29 04/18/2012.