Description: Gato's horrible shame continues as he's forced to battle Eagle in a nude Greek beach. A male-only Greek beach. Despite being horribly blinded, he manages to punch his way one step closer to vengeance. (Winner: Gato)
Karpathos Beach, Greece. 1 PM.
The sun-baked white sands stretch along the quiet, mediterranean beachfront. It was not an empty beach; nay, it was quite active, especially with the promise of Lee Chaolan's tournament fight. Lee ChaoLan, of Violet Systems, had made the arrangements at the last minute. A fight of the century! To promote clothing damage awareness. The Silver-Haired Devil had to talk fast to waive the clothing ban. But with the promise of keeping with the strict gender codes, he had managed to make the last-minute arrangement without a hitch. And thus, that was the crowd gathered today, right around the open sands where the fight would take place.
However, they were in fact all naked.
And they were all men.
Twenty different kinds of men are gathered beside a very nervous camera crew. Fat ones, skinny ones, old ones, young ones. Some were built like Adonises, while others could very well pass as very ugly womenfolk. Even the judge was taking part in the festivities, stripped down to the bare necessities of his birthday suit. While the rest of the crew warily declines, the camera crew is not alone in their pro-clothing ways.
"Terrible!"
There, amongst the camera crew, Eagle watches the rest of the men in disgust. "Just terrible. Leave it to the Greeks to take something as brilliant as a nude beach, and waste it on the Greeks." Eagle scowls at a rather corpulent couple in the front, shaking his head. The brit happened to be in full garb, the clothing damage of his last fight amounting to a wrinkle on his button-down white shirt. Standing astride in suspenders and slacks, the blonde-hair man keeps his escrima sticks tucked into the crook of his arms, as he tweaks his mustache. "Feh! Where are the Germans? You can't have a proper nude beach without a few hairy Germans around." Eagle keeps looking around, inspecting the remaining men.
And just shakes his head again.
"An ocean the size of the world, and not even a few choice fish to catch!"
Again and again, Lee finds ways to try and horrify Gato. He had no interest in where he might go, simply allowing himself to be ferried via jet to the appropriate locale. About when he saw the large intricate ivy mesh fence and the sign declaring that clothing was optional, he understood. And when he saw the second sign stating 'Males Only', he fully grasped it. Lee knows that he isn't going to dissuade Gato from his vengeance. Not this, and not anything else. That can only mean he is making the pursuit as horrifying and terrible as humanly possible.
Although truth be told, Gato's clothing is not in the best condition. Momoko's typhoon-like psionic assault near the end destroyed his shirt, leaving him only in tossled, gaudy swimming trunks and sandals. Still, it is more than sufficient. Striding past the camera men, Gato's eyes are only upon Eagle now. A dark, sullen intensity. But beneath that, recognition. Eagle is a celebrity in the fighting world, and an opponent he has never faced. But...
"The perversions of a man simply coasting through fighting like it were some ballroom dance... I have no interest in you." A foot stamps into the sand, brutally pivoting into a fighting stance before both hands raise, a slow exhale running through him as he properly loosens in preparation. "You are nothing more than a mini-boss between me and my true quarry...!!"
And inversely, Lee found ways of making Eagle's job fun.
The heads turn towards the approaching Gato, two score of them casting across his well-built, scarred form. Those prying eyes, taking in every aspect of his body. And it is not just the naked eyes that are taking him in. Eagle's blue eyes turn towards the muscled form striding towards him. His scowls softens. A twinkle flares in his eye, as a smirk draws across his lips. "Why, those are some....
"Some ~elegant~ words from such a rough looking chap."
Eagle pulls out his sticks from the crook of his arm, clutching each one in his strong hands. "Don't be too cross with me, Gato." The brit states, as he walks across the sands himself, each firm step coming one after another in the hot sands. "But what you have between yourself and Lee is no business of man. A proper man never asks, nor does he tell." He strikes the sticks against each other, scraping one against the other. Alternating between the two, he reaches his position, standing across his opponent. And there, he unleashes a simple wink.
"Shall we fight like gentlemen, then?"
COMBATSYS: Eagle has started a fight here.
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Eagle 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Gato has joined the fight here.
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Gato 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Eagle
Oh, boy. This is suddenly a lot worse. Gato dispels the demons to the back of his mind once more. Perhaps this can work to his advantage... it is prudent to finish this as quickly as possible, after all.
However much a rugged looker the Futaba might be, he still will approach the fight the same way. With a sudden bolt forward, a short but aggressively paced dash that brings him suddenly close to Eagle, trying to remain low enough that bringing those sticks to bare might be difficult; the danger is in the range advantage, if he can surprise the dainty poof enough to remove that card, the advantage is his...!
Before he whirls around, bringing the heel of his foot down in a sharp, brutal *crack* at Eagle's ankle, kicking up a great pampf of sand in the gesture. Hnnnn!!
COMBATSYS: Gato successfully hits Eagle with Medium Kick.
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Gato 0/-------/-------|===----\-------\0 Eagle
Eagle was already in the fight.
Eagle did see a certain charm with the man. Brooding and dark, with an inner passion. Still, he knew enough to not get taken in by a tall, dark and handsome man. As Gato lunges in, Eagle is already swinging his sticks around, a whirlwind of flash, with just a hint of substance. As Gato goes low, he adjusts, snapping his sticks against each other as he simply attempts to dance around the low sweep.
But the fancy footwork doesn't cut it.
Eagle is sent tumbling, knocked hard into the sand by the low kick. "Hrm!" He exclaims with a grunt, his slacks tearing a bit at the knee. That was a fracture at the ankle, he could feel it. Still, he got worse from the drunks! Digging a bata in the sand, he kicks back upright, sticks already a twirling. "I can see you will be feistier than my last opponent, Gato!" The brit states as he regains his footing warily, side stepping his opponent cautiously. Hitting his sticks over and over, he builds back into his rhythm. He lowers down briefly, a crouch as his spins his sticks across his finger tips. "Good show! Lets see if you can't get me stripped!"
And he pounces.
The fighter dives in, sticks high overhead. Eagle is soaring briefly, as he brings his weapons crashing downwards. A flashy strike, a vicious strike. But oddly restrained; While the approach was brisk and exhuberant, Eagle doesn't throw his full force in the jump, holding back just enough to keep his footing....
And perhaps to give Gato an opening?
COMBATSYS: Gato dodges Eagle's Fierce Strike.
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Gato 0/-------/-------|====---\-------\0 Eagle
"Do not compare me to the garbage you brushed aside in the first round... there is no honor in breaking such a man. He claimed to have destructive fists..." Whirling around with the predatory air of a tiger, waiting patiently for an opening rather than simply rushing forward. A methodical, cool approach, the finesse of a practiced surgeon in the midst of dissection. The leap forward ends in a short hop backwards. His braid trails behind, being sharply struck by Eagle's tonfa; but no contact was made with the spry shirtless devil, who lands once more -- already in a brutal position. "This... is a true destructive fist!!" Exhaling all tension from his body, Gato then launches himself forward. Explosive tension and a perfected twist launch the heel of his hand forward. If one cared for semantics, they might say that it actually wasn't a punch at all, really. But if that was bait... then consider it grasped firmly in both hands, with eager itent!!
COMBATSYS: Eagle blocks Gato's Shin-Ga.
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Gato 0/-------/-------|=====--\-------\0 Eagle
Eagle was expecting a kitten, not a tiger.
The pounce is met with a swift hop away, Gato gingerly evading the attack. Eagle was wise not to throw his whole weight into the assault. As Gato ripostes with an explosive punch, Eagle is already whirling his sticks around, Snapping them together ones, he cross them before him, hooking the man's wrist with the weapons. The blow connects, but at a mere fraction of it's normal strength. But Eagle stumbles back from the mere fraction of the strength, with a gasp under his breath.
"I say!"
Gato was proving himself to be far more of an opponent than Rick was. Pushing back easily, he advances back, winding himself back. "My apologies, Gato. I had no intent to insult you!" He states sincerely, as he builds up his strength delicately... and unleashes it forward. Arms out, he neatly pirouettes forward, his escrima sticks stuck out. He wasn't simply helicopter arming his way into Gato. He was bowling over him, forcing himself well past Gato's current position. He did not secure early control of this fight; with Rick, he controlled it immediately. But with Gato?
Well, Eagle was not the kind to be a power bottom.
COMBATSYS: Gato endures Eagle's Manchester Black.
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Gato 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Eagle
Indeed, Gato is running with every cylinder at full power. From the onset, he has had full intentions of ending this fight as quickly as possible. At the moment, the abject nudity of the surrounding men is only taking up the majority of his perephial vision, as opposed to the entirety. Eagle moves well; and his technique is honed through a lifetime's experience. That much is undeniable. Has he enticed the man into fighting fully, as opposed to making a sport of it? With the momentum he has started, Eagle would have a hard time trying to change things...
And then, Gato stomps upon the ground. Launching straight into the assault, one escrima stick impacts his ribcage. One rib cracked, maybe two. But he is using his trump card now... a maneuver he possesses that might very well stop Eagle in his tracks, for a potentially fatal second.
It's Gato's lower end that's shooting through the air. Legs part wide and invitingly, oversized shorts fluttering carelessly. Attempting to wrap about his face, warm and inviting as a lover.
So he can twist violently up and behind, intent on a brutal *SNAP*, before kicking Eagle into the ground. "HNNN!!"
COMBATSYS: Gato successfully hits Eagle with Mu-Ga EX.
- Power hit! -
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Gato 0/-------/---====|=======\==-----\1 Eagle
Oh, no, he hit.
The fact the impact comes cleanly was a red light for the experienced fighter. Gato was bringing so much passion into this fight; up close like this, he could feel it burning off his skin. And that's why he breaks from the assault early. His sticks whirl around, as his pirouette draws tightly in. He is already pushing away from Gato, preempting the counter attack slightly. And that may be what saves his life; As the stick draws away, Gato is upon him. Eagle looks facefirst between two rugged thighs. And then, he feels the twist.
And then, he falls away into the sands, sticks still clutched in his hands.
The judge, busy speaking with a well-built man, suddenly turns to look at the blonde-haired man... not rising up after the neck-break technique. He pauses a moment, mentally counting down. As Eagle continues to refuse to get back up, the judge shakes his head, raising a hand.
And finally, Eagle rises up again.
It's much slower this time. And the hoots and the cheers of the crowd, well, it seems to be what he needs to keep standing up. "Well, that's certainly a crick in the neck, now isn't it." Eagle mutters calmly, scratching the back of his neck with a stick. "Good job, sir!" Eagle compliments with a air of sincerity. "You really did a number on my spine there. But I got one regret, Gato!" Eagle jams a stick into his shirt, and the other into the front of his slacks. The englishman gives a coy wink.
And suddenly, his rips off his suit.
There, standing strong, Eagle reveals the truth of his swimsuit: A bright, green V-hammock. The straps stretch over his shoulders, the thin lines of farbic barely holding up the well-endowed bulge. The shimmering fabric's surface swims and shines as Eagle lets the remains of the clothing fall away. And standing there, his hips begin to sway, as he begins to spin those sticks. The audience gasps and coos, as Eagle stands there, looking Gato square in the eye. "Well, love, come and get it! Unless you aren't feeling lucky." And there, he waits. Spinning the tools. Swinging his hips from side to side.
Spin spin.
Wiggle wiggle.
COMBATSYS: Eagle charges his next attack!
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Gato 0/-------/---====|=======\====---\1 Eagle
"It is done!!" Gato states with a growl towards the judge, crossing his arms as he stands adjacent to the fallen Eagle. After a few stammers, it seems that's indeed about to become the official verdict... only for a swish of sand as Gato tenses and whirls around. He's still conscious...?! Well. Eagle has at least dispelled the idea that he's a fighter within the trash leagues. There was true killing intent behind the vice-like clamp of his thighs.
And then Gato is momentarily struck blind.
That sort of horrendous suit should not exist in this world, let alone be worn by a man such as Eagle. There's a genuine grimace, as Gato holds up a hand and turns his head away, completely losing his focus. Those hips. They will haunt his dreams.
"...Stop that!! Fight me seriously, damn you!!" Well, that particular special attack certainly worked perfectly.
COMBATSYS: Gato is too crippled by shame and disgust to attack.
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Gato 0/-------/---====|=======\====---\1 Eagle
Spin Spin.
Wiggle Wiggle.
The coos and cheers from the crowd continue, as Eagle keeps up the invitation. Gato may be disgusted, but these naked men were beginning to embrace each other, lining up behind each other as they grind along. Eagle, despite his flourish, was not missing a beat. The sticks were a blur on his finger tips, as Gato refuses to take him seriously. The hips sway side to side, as Eagle finally responds. "Fight you seriously, Gato? Ah, but you see..." And with that, he lets the sticks fly in a high arc into the air.
"I am, love~"
Eagle suddenly blasts across the sand, dashing straight past Gato, right beside him. There, he catches the landing escrima sticks, and just starts beating away. High stick aimed at the shoulder with the right, a smash towards the chest with the left, a smash towards the hip with the right. The frenzy of strikes are frantic, but not reckless; Eagle continues a rhythm as he pressures the offense into Gato. He works up and down, around and around as he encircles Gato. After a dozen strikes, he breaks the pattern with a dip. Lowering down, he attempts to hook Gato with an escrima stick at the back of the knees. Pulling straight up, if he is successful, he will take his second stick, and continue to lift up Gato as if he was a wet noodle... before slamming the fighter down like a pancake in the sand. But whether Gato is standing or facedown in the sand?
He will continue the unending chain of rhythmic strikes.
COMBATSYS: Gato blocks Eagle's Empowered Picadilly Silver.
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Gato 0/-------/-======|===----\-------\0 Eagle
Oh, it truly isn't an issue of Eagle being taken seriously. Gato is fully aware the man isn't so suicidal that he would continue treating this like a playful game, when it has been destructively shown such is not the case. It's simply an issue of discomfort. Although Eagle is capable of descending into such theatrics and still retain his momentum -- nay, even thrive from it -- Gato was born and raised with the sanctity of the martial arts pounded into his frame. He is finally off-kilter, after his devastating start.
The question is whether Eagle can capitalize on it long enough to turn the tide fully into his favor.
And this assault certainly helps matters.
The thrown sticks catch Gato off-guard, and he brings up his forearms. The catch causes a brief "!" to appear, but it's not sufficient to break his iron guard. Bracing himself, a great cry roars before he savagely brings up his forearms. Catching the first CRACK, then the next, interposing his bare limbs before each brutal strike. It sounds much like a German being spanked in an over-lubed orgy, much to the crowd's enjoyment. Caught by the end flourish, Gato still catches himself in a roll, coming back to his feet with a hiss of pain.
"...Enough!!" Abruptly he brings up his hand, eyes narrowing in concentration. Before pushing forward in a great cloud of sand, coming to rest just outside arm's reach. Energy can be sensed being gathered, not unlike Eagle's own strike just now. A visible exhale, eyes closing, body relaxing. Before he erupts forward suddenly, crossing the distance in a heartbeat. A much more powerful blow is leveled towards the other fire, intending to impact his stomach with a great explosion of kinetic force, capable of not only sending the other man flying, but the wiggle wiggle observers who've crowded in too close behind...!! The air lost to sight in the great sandstorm kicked up by the aftereffect of that much force.
"BE GONE!!" Maybe if he pretends it's Lee, his strike will be more true.
COMBATSYS: Eagle fails to counter Mou-Ko Kou Hakan from Gato with Canterbury Blue.
*KNOCKED AWAY*
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Gato 1/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Eagle can no longer fight.
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Gato 1/-------/=======|
Too much flash. Not enough substance.
The aggressive combination of attacks roar against the unyielding defense of Gato. He even manages to take the man like a noodle, only for the nimble fighter to slip away. And all the way, was the wiggle wiggle, snap snap.
In many ways, it was amazing that all the furniture stayed in the room, so to speak.
But as Gato builds in energy, Eagle doesn't stop his swinging. He was trying to crush through the assault. He couldn't let him have his opening. As the charge comes, the brit is already rushing in to meet the wily fighter. Swinging his sticks around, he swings the sticks around to catch it. It was a hair-trigger reaction. He could stop it easily if Gato was trying to hit him.
The problem?
Gato wasn't trying to hit Eagle.
He was trying to hit Lee.
The blow hits Eagle with rib shattering force. The man audibly gasps as he is sent flying through the air, throwing up a cloud of sand as he roars right into a crowd of bystanders. They slow his fall. Barely. Crumpling into a heap, Eagle's sticks fly into the sand beside him. Eagle struggles a moment, rising up. His swimsuit was beyond repair, the tatters drifting through the air. The naked form of Eagle struggles a breath, before calling out to his opponent. "... Well played, good sir."
And he collapses in the sand, unconscious.
The judge waits a moment, counting down while his partner plays with his ear. "Does this mean..." One of the bystanders begins, as he helps his partner back up from being bowled over. The judge nods, confirming his fear. "Gato Wins!" And everyone in the crowd cheers.
"Beach Party Finish!"
And the men begin to dance, as Funky Town plays on a nearby beatbox.
Log created on 23:28:30 06/21/2013 by Gato, and last modified on 01:40:12 07/01/2013.