Description: Razor goes on the prowl for drugheads to bust up in the Metro City slums, and finds Layla in the community refuse lot. After a bit of idle chatter, Razor takes Layla's bottle of Daniels and uses it to assault a local gang member and acquaintance of the brazilian girl. Combat and comedy ensues.
It's a cloudy evening in Metro City and the sky is a depressing dull gray, the thunderous roar of a storm slowing making its way into the slums. Though this would be depressing weather for middle income folk from the inner city, the poor and destitute of this area are acting like it's just another day... the occasional concerned parent hurries their children into the house... but most of the parental figures in this neck of the proverbial woods are either not home or lost to whatever variation of stupor they prefer to keep themselves in when not at work.
The streets today aren't particularly thick with people though. In fact, most of the people who ARE out this time of day are of the less than scrupulous persuasion. Many of whom have gathered in their favorite alleyways and street corners, sometimes but the light of an oildrum fire to fight.... do substances... or gossip about the latest happenings on the streets.
Near the entrance to one such meeting place, a local lot for community refuse storage, there is a rather large gathering of hoodlums young and old having some manner of wild party. Near the open gate entrance to the lot, leaning against a brick wall well away from the gathered crowd... is a young brown-skinned female clad in torn up denim.... nursing a bottle of Jack Daniels. There's a long, thin, stretch of medical bandage stretching across her face from right jaw to upper left temple that covers a small portion of her face. It's a gaudy-looking thing, but it's probably keeping a rather nasty wound from worsening. "...Fuckin' rain..."
The blue windbreaker that Rexton Rodfield is wearing doesn't have the hood drawn up to keep out the rain - the rain doesn't bother him, beyond bringing vague memories to the back of his mind, and those are easily pushed away. Rather, the hood of his jacket is up to keep attention away from him, and perhaps to avoid the risk of recognition. His habits of late have tended to draw more enemies than friends from this part of town, and he's not looking for a fight right now.
His boots make a slapping noise as he treads through a puddle on the sidewalk, making his footsteps wet as he continues past the run-down housing. A noise from around the corner ahead draws his attention, and he turns to look into the lot where the crowd are gathered. Razor sniffs the air - he can practically smell the booze from here, and maybe smoke from something other than the burn barrels. He's about to walk on by when he notices the woman leaning against the wall. He would probably leave her be, but seeing the bandage on her face, he decides to turn in and approach her, hands still shoved in his jacket's pockets. Stopping a little distance away, his hood still low enough that his eyes are hidden from a distance, he greets her. "Hey," he says, his voice a bit deep and rough, but his tone non-threatening.
If the fact that she were standing alone weren't clue enough, the look she gives the unknown man approaching her flank in the hoodie certainly would be. Turning dangerously narrowed earthen eyes toward him, the woman the bandage running across her face certainly wouldn't come across as a victim of any kind if that's what he's thinking. "Yeah, you lookin' for some fun, stud?" She let's the hang for a moment for a moment, and the promptly turns her eyes away again... pulling that loose denim jacket up that had been hanging off a smooth, slightly scarred, left shoulder. Her eyes fix on some point far off into the distance again... "Might wanna look for a good time somewhere else. I'm not in the mood." She then lifts that long neck bottle of jack to her lips and takes another wet swallow
When her lips break from the mouth of the bottle, she exhales softly... and then in an almost regretful tone... perhaps realizing she might've been too presumptuous she adds... "...You'd best get out of here. These parts ain't no good for anybody." ... Immediately afterwarf she casts a sidelong glance toward the rowdy lot near the burn barrels, "HEY! QUITE YER' SHOUTIN' I'M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS!" .. to which the lot turn around and two of the men whistle loudly while the rest the group starts telling even louder... "...Fuckin' assholes." She sighs...
"I'm not really looking for anything in particular," Razor answers the Brazilian girl, turning his shoulders slightly so that his back is to the crew hanging around the burn barrels, keeping them out of sight. He pulls one hand clad in a fingerless glove from a pocket to stifle a cough, then the other one emerges to rub against the first for warmth.
"Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself." He looks over toward the hooligans around the barrels, trying to see if he recognizes any of them and realising that he doesn't. He doesn't turn in response to Layla's shouting, instead just keeping his gaze toward the party. "Friends of yours?" he asks nonchalantly. "Any of them the ones who did that to your face?" He still hasn't looked back at her yet.
A slight smirk touches the her scarred, bandaged, features as the persistent man assumes she somehow cared what he did with his time. She doesn't refute it though... instead she just takes another wordless swallow. She then lowers the bottle, letting it dangle between the index and ring finger of her partially-closed right hand at her side. "That's great, I'm not sellin' anything particular..." She replies, somewhat sarcastically. She isn't making him go away just yet however...
A bit of rain starts to fall... just the slightest trickling. During the space of a few moments when he turns his eyes toward the rowdy gangers gathered by the barrel, the danim wearing woman grabs her tightly-knit ponytail that was hanging off her left shoulder and pushes it off... letting it fall down her backside. She continues to basically ignore him, staring .off into the distance... even as the rain started to fall... until he inquires about her 'friends'. "You're kiddin'me right?" She laughs a bit derisively at the inquiry. "Those guys couldn't lay a hand on my ass, not that they woulddn't like to..." Her laughing features melt back into a bit of a smirk... "I did this to me." She conveinantly leaves out the story about Asuka reflecting her steel chain back at her face during a bear fight...
Razor's gaze lingers in the direction of the hoodlums around the burn barrel perhaps a little too long, and a few of them have started looking back. He decides to return his visual attention to Layla, turning his back on the hoodlums, his eyes slipping down to her midsection and the chain that's coiled against it. "Really, huh? Seems like there're enough people around here ready to give someone a beating. Giving yourself one seems a bit unnecessary." He raises his eyes back to her face, then gives a little nod toward the bottle of Daniels that she's holding in her hand, raising his own hand, open, in her direction.
"I don't suppose you're in the mood to share, are you?"
My wasn't this one bold?
As the taller man turns his attention back toward her, she can feel him eyeing her but interprets it as something else entirely. This prompts her to give him another hard stare, until his gaze returns to her face and she registers what he says....
Suddenly, her dangerous glare cracks and she seems a touch embarassed... eyes going wide for the briefest of moments. Then she quickly looks away, turning her earthen gaze back toward the dull gray horizon and a little old lady in the distance fetching her mail. There's a smal silence between them where even her breathing is silent, allowing the pitter patter of rain drops to make themselves known. Then, she speaks again... "...Good eyes." That's about all she's going to give him.
"Bear fighting." She offers, after another small silence, lifting the bottle of JD as she does so. "...You want some of this shit'?" She seems perplexed. He didn't seem like a drinker. She was using it to dull the throbbing pain in her face, but she supposed she could... "...Yeah, take it." That's about as close to 'have some' as he'll get with this rude girl apparently.
Meanwhile, as the pair banter between themselves on the opposite side of the lot... the thugs gathered round the burn barrel seem to have grown curious about the exchange. Too curious, in fact, as two of them split off from teh group to head in Layla and Razor's direction. Two men, both very young, probably no older than 21 and both of them were dressed pretty casually. Torn jeans, t-shirts, scuffed and muddy tennis shoes. Both were probably a bit shorter than razor, of the a bit lanky... the other was obviously a weight lifter.
As the pair closes in, the bolder of them... the body builder wearing a slate gray T and jeans pushes his way into their circle. He knocks a pair of cheap-looking sunglasses back on his head... "Hey Layla, what you hangin' with this fool for? You never hang with us these days."
Razor offers an empathetic half-smile as Layla looks away. He hadn't meant to be rude, but was more rather impressed by the chain she was wearing. The woman was clearly a fighter; in fact, he was starting to wonder if he recognized her, maybe from the underground circuit. When she compliments him, he arches an eyebrow just a bit, then, resuming his casual tone, speaks. "Nice hair."
At the bear fighting remark, he once again looks just a little surprised, but takes the bottle when she tells him that he can, though he doesn't raise it to his lips, or even look like he plans on drinking it. "Bear fighting? Who won, you or the bear?"
As the two guys walk up, Razor doesn't turn to look at them, catching enough of a glimpse from a corner of his eye. It's not that he thinks they're beneath him. It's more that he doesn't want to encourage them.
"Nice sunglasses," he tells the more muscular of the two as he butts in. "You want a drink?" He holds up the bottle that Layla gave him, though he doesn't actually intend to hand it off, his grip remaining firm on it.
It would come as no surprise to Layla if he didn't recognize her, even if he had seen her on the circuits. Leandra Burnier, AKA Layla, was a completely different person when she fought. That's why, she doesn't seem to make very much of it - despite the fact that a lot of people who frequented the circuits had at least an inkling of who she was. Instead, she seems content to keep staring off into the distance... holding that bottle aloft... until he compliments her hair and takes the bottle from her. This provokes a silent sidelong glance from her, a bit of a poker-faced expression... as her deep brown eyes search his face for signs of just what it is he's trying to pull. If he were attempting to seduce her, it wasn't going to work...
In fact, after a moment she's ready to tell him this. But just as she opens her mouth, he cuts her off with a well-placed question. She pulls her ragged denim jacket a little tighter, still staring at him. "It wasn't... like that." She reckoned he might have heard about that crazy old geezer's tournament on TV, so she adds.. "I participated in the Kuma League. I fought an..." she pauses for a moment, attempting to remember the foreign sounding name.... "Asuka Kazama. We both had to fight with bears as partners." She chuckles softly then, turning her gaze back toward the horizon.. "She beat me pretty good." ... And Layla thoroughly enjoyed it. She'd not be letting that sleeping dog lie for too terribly long..."
Meanwhile, as the muscle-bound thug makes his way into her territory.. Layla gives him an off-handed... "I got a fuckin' headache. I don't need a worse one." She the turns her eyes to meet his, staring him down hard.
"Woah..." the much larger man laughs at her response, "Geez... sorry for interrupting your time with your boyfriend." At the bottle that's offered him, he looks at it... and then looks at the hooded fellow and smirks... "No thanks." He inches inward toward Razor a bit... looming over Layla.. her smaller frame almost swallow by his shadow... "But I don't give a damn who you are, buddy. This is our turf. The girl can stay, but you gotta go. One way or another." The man's blue eyes lock with Razor's own pale green. Apparently he was seriously territorial, either over the girl or the lot. And he wasn't about to listen to a damnt hingn she said without some manner of encouragement..
Razor's brow furrows a little deeper as Layla starts to talk about Kuma League. He doesn't watch much television - the box he has is little more than, well... a box. He doesn't recognise the names given, either. "Damn. Bears?" he says, "I didn't realise any of the underground rings went that far." Let alone one backed by an international corporate sponsor. "It's good that you seem to be taking the loss well."
When the body-builder steps closer and starts to threaten him, Razor reaches up and pulls the hood off of his head, revealing his facial features fully, including the visible scars that cross a large portion of the left side of his face and the right side of his jaw. Whether the guy would recognize Razor is questionable, but it's obvious that he's a fighter. He gives the man a hard look.
"Sorry to intrude. Say, before I go - I don't suppose you guys are hookin' people up around here?"
Apparently Razor wants some drugs to go with his newly claimed whiskey bottle.
It still hasn't registered to the Brazilian girl yet that Razor has an intention to keep the damn bottle. In fact, she doesn't seem even remotely concerned with the bottle... even though she's just bought the shit... she's too busy staring holes into the side of the body builder's face. As he encroaches on her territory a little bit more and has the GALL to threaten someone she's talking to, despite her telling him to back off... well... "Johnny I ain't gonna repeat myself, I got a fuckin' headache. I don't want to have to beat your ass again for playing this macho shit near me but if you keep fuckin' with me..." ... and she stands up, pushing herself off the wall with her left foot... her heavy steel chain jangling audibly as her weight shifts...
'Johnny' actually breaks his dangerous glare to cast a bit of a hesistant glance at the smaller woman, and then reluctantly acquiesces.. "...Damn it, Layla... you know we don't like outsiders here." Nobody who did any kind of real 'business' in these parts wanted foreign ears around, and these guys weren't just a bunch of hooligans apparently. Taking a step back from the pair, the muscular man with blue eyes removes those shades from his neatly-trimmed, well-oiled, jet black mane and turns his eyes slowly back toward Razor. He takes a moment to take the man's scarred features in before replying... a bit less aggressively this time. "...Depends on what you're lookin' for..." His features, and indeed his posture, seem to relax a bit at the prospect of a sale. Maybe this guy wasn't a complete waste of time after all... "Look man, I ain't no dealer but I got connections..." He casts a sidelong glance toward the empty street to the right, his demeanor eexpressing just a touch of apprehension... he didn't need any cops hearing what he was about to say. "If you want something... I might could part something of mine... for the right price..."
The scrawnier fellow in the bright yellow T with firey red hair has, in the meantime, seemed to gravitate slowly into the background... standing a bit farther back from Johnny near a fairly large trash heap... leaning with one hand against the edge of large off-white washing machine. He doesn't seem to be getting too close for the moment,, especially not since things got a little testy earlier. Juts about the only thing he seems to be doing is staring at the brazilian woman intently... who seems to be paying him no attention in kind.
COMBATSYS: Razor has started a fight here.
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Razor 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Johnny has joined the fight here.
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Razor 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Johnny
It was a mean trick, what Razor just did. Baiting Johnny into showing that he was willing to deal. And worse yet for him, the thug had let slip that he had connections in the drug trade. Razor didn't come here to pick a fight, but now that the opportunity presents itself to do a little 'street cleaning,' it's... well, tempting. And Razor isn't a saint, and the beefy man's attitude didn't make violence a less attractive option.
"That's good to hear."
He glances at Layla, the eye movement meant to distract Johnny as much as it is to direct his next words.
"Sorry about this."
And suddenly, the bottle is upturned and swinging hard at Johnny's face. It might not shatter on impact, but it's likely to hurt and intended to catch the thug off-guard.
COMBATSYS: Johnny blocks Razor's Small Random Weapon.
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Razor 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Johnny
As Razor glances at Layla, and apologizes before he unceremoniously attempts to break that bottle over Johnny's head, the weight lifter does regard her momentarily as if to try and figure out why the apology was being made. But despite the wily ruse, Johnny does catch the bottle in his peripheral vision... and throws up thick, meaty, arm in a defensive maneuver before the glass container can hit its intended target. Instead, it shatters loudly over his forearm... leaving some cuts, and spilling alchohol all over the ground, but never the less not having the effect it was intended to. Razor might be able to tell from Johnny's reflexes, well before Johnny started bouncing on his feet with the practiced dexterity of a boxer, but this guy was a fighter too. "The FUCK??!" He shouts, angrily, shaking the alchohol from his arms... "Alright buddy, you just signed your death warrant.." With little more said, Johnny darts in toward Razor and proceeds to throw a quick right jab to his face...
Layla, meanwhile, is stunned. Her eyes are as wide as the full moon as the pair begin to square off... her mouth agape... and then suddenly
She stomps a booted foot hard, growling like an angry bear. "THE FUCK?? That was my last drink for two weeks man!" Now, wether, Razor liked it or not... he'd have two opponents to contend with. But she wasn't drawing her whip yet... angry as she felt she didn't wantt hurt him too much. That's why, once Johnny has darted in and made a attempt at Razor... she makes her own... rushing toward him and attempting to kick him in the solar plexus and... out of Johnny's way??
COMBATSYS: Layla has joined the fight here.
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Layla 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Razor
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Johnny 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Razor blocks Layla's Light Kick.
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Layla 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Razor
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Johnny 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Razor endures Johnny's Medium Strike.
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Layla 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Razor
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Johnny 0/-------/------=|
So, this thug 'Johnny' isn't a complete blowhard. Razor might've been fooled. He had a feeling that Layla wouldn't appreciate his thoughtfulness in helping her get rid of the alcohol, either.
"I'll owe you."
When both of them come at him, he gets the feeling that the woman may be the better fighter, and so raises his hand to catch her kick rather than deflecting the punch aimed at his face - which he takes full on, the blow only slightly turning his head, before looking back at Johnny.
"I don't think so."
He then pivots and lifts his leg in the air before snapping it back down toward Johnny's face with a fairly strong-looking axe kick, one of the more refined techniques that Razor knows and employs.
COMBATSYS: Razor successfully hits Johnny with Straight Edge.
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Layla 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Razor
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Johnny 0/-------/---====|
Layla doesn't seem too pleased no. Drinking was no mere habit for her to be sure, it had much deeper meaning than the fool who'd just broke her bottle knew. It also... was the only thing numbing the pain in her head. "You fuckin' owe me?? So I'm just supposed to wait for that...??!" She growls, almost ferally, "I don't THINK YOU FUCKIN' UNDERSTAND! THAT WAS MY LAST BOTTLE FOR A GOD DAMNED TWO WEEKS!" Even as she says this, she's already charging straight back into his territory.. a booted foot it thrust out in an attempt to throw him to the ground... this time much harder.
Johnny, meanwhile, seems to be paying less attention to Razor than Layla as she pushes her way into fight and attempts to kick Razor out from under him. He knew the girl wel enough to know exactly what she was doing. "Hey! Stop runnin' int..." ... and before he can get the rest of his sentence out, Razor's foot meets with his face, hard sending him sprawling to the ground. "God... dammit..." He spits a bit of blood onto the ground, then slowly picks himself up... charging back into the fight whilst Razor might be distracted with Layla... and throws a hard left straight toward Razor's temple. "Shut your trap and die, you cocky prick."
COMBATSYS: Layla successfully hits Razor with Gut Buster.
- Power hit! -
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Layla 0/-------/-------|===----\-------\0 Razor
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Johnny 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Razor fails to interrupt Fierce Strike from Johnny with Hook Punch.
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Layla 0/-------/-------|====---\-------\0 Razor
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Johnny 0/-------/---====|
In a way, Layla's right. Razor doesn't understand, really. He's never felt the need to drink, at least not enough to get past his revulsion of the notion. But then, part of that is that he's been dealing with other peoples' alcoholism for most of his life. "Can we discuss this later and elsewhere?" he says as he braces for the impact of her foot, sliding back with a grunt as it connects hard. He's about to swing around with a hook punch as Johnny comes at him, but his timing is off and the thug's hard straight punch connects with Razor's temple, turning his body with the impact. For a second one might almost think that Razor's out on his feet... but then he turns right back to face Johnny.
"Hit me like that again. I dare you."
Layla, meanwhile, does not seem in the mood for discussions. Even after that booted foot connects, and Razor is sent stumbling away from her, she seems intent on pressing the assault both verbal and physical. "I DON'T WANT TO DISCUSS FUCKIN' NOTHIN!" Her headache was quickly compounding at the ruckus everyone around her seemed intent on causing, and now her own shouting was making it worse. But she just couldn't stop herself... the more it hurt, the more she wanted to rage... and the more she raged, the more it hurt. "I'M GONNA FUCKIN HURT SOMEBODY!" Then she stalks toward him again...
...and Johnny comes screaming in with that hard blow to Razor's temple, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he realizes he hit pay dirt. Until... Razor acts as though he'd just been struck by a pillow. Suddenly, Johnny is furiously angry himself... "YOU COCKY SON OF A BITCH'! I'M GONNA..." .. and he gets ready to throw another of those meaty fists at Razor's face, drawing his arm back behind him like a bow ready to fire...
...*SMASH* ... *THUD*
"The fuck...??" Johnny gasps out as he takes a hard elbow to the mid-section by Layla. Collapsing to the ground, he stares at the woman standing over him with about as much confusion as a person can have.
"YOU STARTED ALL OF THIS!" If hadn't been for him, she might have still had her liquor, if not... she'd certainly at least have less of a headache. "I'M GOING TO KNOCK YOU OUT FIRST...!" She growls, ominously, and then glares at Razor. "Then we're going to have a nice little chat..." If he didn't run away first. It's not clear whether by 'chat' Layla means actual talking or kicking his ass at this point. he didn't hout that last part, but her tone was no less dangerous.
Johnny takes the time she's focusing on Razor to gather himself off the floor.. bouncing from foot to foot... pained. "Fine I'll fight both of you idiots..." He snarls, viciously, and picks the enarest target... the woman standing next to him. "Starting with you...!" Yet another hard right is sent, this time flying at the chain-bearing brazilian girl.
COMBATSYS: Layla has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Razor 0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0 Layla
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Johnny 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Layla has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
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Layla 0/-------/-------|====---\-------\0 Razor
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Johnny 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Johnny has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Layla 0/-------/-------|====---\-------\0 Johnny
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Razor 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Johnny successfully hits Layla with Medium Strike.
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Layla 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Johnny
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Razor 0/-------/---====|
Rex's hands come up, fists balled and ready as he anticipates Johnny's own punch about to sail at him. This time, he'll be ready for it - but then the punch never materialises, cut short by Layla. When she says that they're going to have a nice little chat, he replies simply, "Deal." Then he lets Johnny shift his attention to the girl. Normally he might object, but Layla clearly knows how to fight. Instead, he looks around and spots a loose length of 2x4 lying next to an unlit burn barrel. He grabs up the lumber as he maneuvers into position behind Johnny, holding it low as he looks for an opening.
COMBATSYS: Razor focuses on his next action.
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Layla 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Johnny
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Razor 0/-------/---====|
*BAM* Johnny's fist collides with the scarred face of the brazilian girl, punching her right in her nose and possibly re-breaking it after her fight with Asuka.
Yet even as blood flows freely from that broken nose, Layla's face twists not into a grimace of pain... but even more nasty snarl than she'd had before. That was it! SHE'D HAD IT! It was enough that he'd caused her a major headache... he should've taken his beating like a man. But he has the STONES to hit her??
Suddenly, that length of long metal chain that was being kept close to her belt is now swinging freely... orbiting her swinging hand locked in a tight and damn near impossible to see orbit. "I'm gonna WRECK you...!"
Johnny was already backing up from her, dancing backwards with his guard up. Damn, shit just got tricky. He wouldn't be able to deal with that whip easily... and Razor... where was Razor?? Suddenly Johnny looks back toward where the green-eyed fighter had been standing and he was gone?? Shit, it was going to be hard to keep up with two opponents... one on either side.
Johnny's muscular frame bounces in-place there at the center of what could in a few moments be ground zero with his guard up. His mind is going a hundred miles an hour trying to figure out how he manage to get himself to a position where he can see both of them at once. He could hear Razor's footsteps behind him now, but not being able to see him wasn't any good.
Fortunately, he wouldn't have to wait too long for a possible solution though. Layla rushes him headlong, swinging that long length of chain in a hard downward strike toward his head. He could see it, if barely, and maybe if he could manage to grab it he could toss her into Razor back there.. If not, well.. he's gonna be hurting...
COMBATSYS: Johnny blocks Layla's Rebound Whip.
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Layla 0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0 Johnny
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Razor 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Layla blocks Johnny's Huge Thrown Object.
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Layla 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Johnny
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Razor 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Razor overcomes Huge Thrown Object from Johnny with Huge Thrown Object.
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Layla 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Johnny
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Razor 0/-------/---====|
When Johnny flings Layla at him using the momentum of her chain, Razor pauses, tossing the two by four aside quickly. He could be a gentleman and just try and catch her, or -
Rex doesn't have time to think his plan through before enacting it. Quickly reaching over, he grabs the large, empty burn barrel, more of an industrial sized trash can. Hefting it, he aims the open end at the incoming female - and catches her.
Which would be fair enough, really - except that then he decides to throw the barrel at Johnny, and her along with it, yelling to her, "Sorry!"
COMBATSYS: Razor successfully hits Johnny with Huge Thrown Object.
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Layla 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 Johnny
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Razor 0/-------/---====|
Layla comes screaming in toward Johnny, literally screaming, and swinging her nine section whip progressively faster, harder, as she approaches him until she finally lets loose with the heavy steel chain... swinging it in a wide upward arc toward the muscle-bound boxer's chin. JUST before it connects... Johnny captures her chain, despite the speed at which it is swung, and jerks her off her feet with it... whipping her wildly toward his backside where he expected the green-eyed fighter to be attempting a surprise atatck on him. Nobody outsmarts Johnny. "You and your boyfriend both need to get the fuck off my turf."
Layla, for her part, is a captive audience for what happens next. After she's swung off her feet into the air by Johnny, whether she's caught off guard or because he was in fact stronger, she's sent hurtling through the air like a bullet at Razor who... catches her... in an empty, sooty, steel burn barrel. Someone give this man the Gentleman of the Year Award!
*CLANG*
But no sooner can she register what he's done, and she's hurled BACK through the air at the same sickening speed she was hurtled away from Johnny. "THE FUUUUUUUUUUUCK??!" She screams from inside the IFO (Identifiable Flying Object) as she goes hurtling back through the air. Ugh, god, she could feel the alchohol she imbided earlier starting to come up... WHY WAS THIS SO FAMILIAR LATEY??
Johnny for his part, just stands there... dumbstruck. Even he didn't know what to make of that shit. "The hell...??" Is all he gets out before the massive metal canister, weighing a hundred pounds by itself and probably 245 with the the girl, comes crashing down on him... knocking him to the ground.
"Damn..." He could feel sharp pain in his right as he pushed that heavy barrel off of him. He groans, picking himself up a bit before Layla. His right arm might definitely be fractured after that, if not broken. But that wouldn't be stopping him... charging back toward Razor as hard as his legs will carry... he thrusts his left in toward Razor's skull with a hard hook. "Man, fuck you!"
Layla... meanwhile... is probably out of the fight for a good while.. seemingly content to stay inside her canister on the ground.. "..My $#@%*&^ head..."
COMBATSYS: Razor fails to interrupt Power Strike from Johnny with Raise Your Fist.
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Layla 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 Johnny
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Razor 0/-------/---====|
In hindsight, using Layla as an improvised projectile was perhaps not one of Razor's shining moments. He certainly feels a bit guilty in retrospect. But maybe the experience will help her sober up?
In the meanwhile, Razor still has Johnny to worry about. The black-haired thug charges in with a powerful punch aimed once again at Razor's mug. Once again, Razor brings his arm back and clenches a fist, preparing to bring it up in an intercepting blow -
And again, Razor gets punched full in the face, driving him to a knee. A cut has opened on his lip, and it looks like it's probably going to bruise, but the look in his eyes as he glowers at Johnny suggests that he's far from done. And then his expression suddenly breaks into laughter. "That was kinda cute."
Johnny stands towering over the man he'd just knocked to the ground with a smug, self-satisfied, smirk on his face despite the injured right arm hanging at his side. "Cute my ass fool... you can laugh all you want but you're the one who just got punched, son!" It was his turn to laugh now, boisterously loudly at that.
After a moment or so of gloating, Johnny uses his free uninjured hand to grab a long, steel, pipe sticking up out of the ground nearby. And jerk it free... smashing it once against a nearby broken washing machine to loosen the earth from it.
Brandishing his newfound weapon, Johnny opts to forego using his boxing techniques and simply use brute force in the absence of his best punching arm. Raising that steel pipe over his head, he swing it back down toward Razor again with all of the force that massive left arm can muster... straight for his right shoulder.
COMBATSYS: Razor blocks Johnny's Deep Strike.
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Layla 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 Johnny
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Razor 0/-------/--<<<<<|
Razor's laughter has died down to a silent quaking by the time that Johnny brandishes the pipe, and he doesn't even make a move until the last second - when he raises a hand to catch the pipe.
"That's a better start, if you're trying to put me down."
He then forcibly yanks the steel pipe free of Johnny's grasp, pulling himself up to his feet with it, then swings it toward Johnny's midsection like a baseball batter.
COMBATSYS: Johnny blocks Razor's Large Random Weapon.
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Layla 0/-------/----===|=======\==-----\1 Johnny
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Razor 0/-------/--=====|
Johnny stumbles back as the pipe is snatched from him mid-swing, and then swung for his mid-section with force enough to possible put him out of commission for good... provided his last good arm hadn't taken the brunt of the damage in his feeble attempt to block.
"AGGGHHHHH!" He cries out as the bones in his arms fracture from the blow, his body tumbling backwards across the filthy soil of the garbage lot. "...Damn..."
For all of his arrogance, and bravado, just moments earlier... Johnny felt like singing a different tune now. Shuffling slowly to his feet, the muscle-bound boxer scowls... glancing toward the still empty street not far from where the two were fighting. He seems to weigh his options for all of a moment, perhaps wondering if he can even manage to outrun this guy or if he'll give chase, and then makes a mad dash for the open gates of the empty lot... intent on getting as far away from the area as he can manage.
Seeing Johnny make a break or it causing the scrawnier thug whose was accompanying him just prior, still standing on the sidelines since the fight began, to turn and run for the gated entrance himself. Meanwhile, the other thugs who they'd been hanging out with around the corner burn barrel start laughing uproariously as the pair dart away in fear. Apparently, the gave less than two shits about those two..
Layla, on the other, is slowly crawling out ofthe barrel she'd been hurled through the air in... clutching her head... groaning in pain "God damn... it's gonna take more than a couple of drinks to get rid this fucin headache.."
COMBATSYS: Johnny has left the fight here.
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Layla 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Razor
Razor's gaze follows Johnny as he makes a bolt for the open street, then watches the other one follow suit. He thinks of pursuing them, but the sound of Layla crawling out of the barrel he'd put her in draws his attention. Tasting the blood on his lips, he wipes his mouth with the back of a gloved fist, then runs his fingers through his damp hair before pulling the hood back up to protect from the rain that still falls from the night sky. Walking over to where Layla is positioned, staggering just a little, he reaches down and offers her a hand up.
"Come on, tough girl like you doesn't need a drink to deal with a little migraine. Why don't we go find you an ice pack or somethin'? The name's Razor, by the way."
COMBATSYS: Razor has left the fight here.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Layla 0/-------/----===|
Layla, who seems to be far too distracted by her headache to notice Razor's approach, continues to groan and clutch at her head while hunched over... her hair in obvious disarray from the tossing she'd taken. She was also covered from head-to-toe in the remainders of a fire long since burnt out within the barrel. But as the hand is offered, she takes it gingerly... pausing for a moment... and then turns her head upward to stare at him with a glare so hot steam might be coming off of her face.
She then attempts to use that hand to pull him down toward the ground, if she can, and grab hold of his hoodie... pulling him so close he can practically smell the liquor on her breathe. "...Listen, asshole..." She pauses for a moment, giving it time to register before she continues... "I have had a hell of a headache all day, my still injured EVERYTHING is SCREAMING at me... I've been thrown through the GOD DAMNED AIR into a GOD DAMNED BARREL by a pair of fucking monkeys..." ... Her sentence is stopped, suddenly, by the turning of her stomach... that sickness she felt earlier was catching up to her.. "I'm G-..." she was going to say 'kick your ass' but what comes out is.. "BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGHHH!!" as she projectile vomits what little she had in er stomach that day right at him. ...
To add insult to injury, whilst wiping the vomit from her mouth, with a gloved hand... the brazilian woman adds... "I.... really... don't like you."
Log created on 19:37:56 07/16/2012 by Layla, and last modified on 17:27:05 07/17/2012.