Description: It's Man versus Monster in this deserted village. But in the dark black smoke, can you tell the Monster from the Man? And far more importantly...can they?
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE has started a fight here.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Blanka has joined the fight here.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Blanka
Blanka has been a rarity for the last few months, formerly a regular entrant into the Saturday Night Fight tournaments. Vanished after yet another horrible fight where he approached a fighter, was called 'aaaa, monster!' and beaten upon most severely. Enough of that will make anyone disgusted with involving themselves in an organization. He'd returned to his 'home', and spent time recentering, balancing himself.
Eventually however, fate comes calling.
He'd been contacted by an organization that suggested the possibility that he was not the only 'freak of nature' in the world, and that if he were willing to take a trip to an out of the way place in Japan, that he'd have a chance to learn more. The call and idea of finding something, some/one/, in a similar situation as he was enough to draw him out of his self-imposed exile. It drew him to the hellish village that was full of ash, grey and white embers clinging to his skin and making him much dingier than usual. Even now he searches here and there, trying to decide a) what he is looking for b) why he is here. In the end, he's been told to go here, and that the price for knowledge was a fight. Isn't it always, in this world?
Mick's experiences in Transylvania had been keeping him up at night, and usually for a shark of a man like "MURDERHOUSE" Mick, that was a rare situation indeed. Right now he was marching around this empty village where his big fight was supposed to take place, but he didn't see how. There weren't any cameras, there weren't any officials, there wasn't much of anything other than smoke and assorted gasmasks left on tables, along with a few abandoned supplies that were left while people ran for their lives. This is what being a fighter was, stepping into a stupid situation so you could beat another man within an inch of his life.
Except, the thing before him wasn't quite a 'man', was it? Mick stared down at the creature in his black hockey mask, white sleeveless tanktop with a pair of black cargo pants, topped off by his combat boots, his padded MMA gloves and his giant right elbow pad, a mixture of rubber and metal bracing, designed to do extra damage. Slung over his left shoulder was a bulky, lumpy gym bag, containing his tools of the trade, a bag that was promptly dumped on the ground while Mick stepped forward. After the things he'd seen, this thing didn't phase him one bit. But he still had to know.
"What in the fuck are you?! Jesus you're an ugly bastard."
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE takes no action.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Blanka
"Well, at least you no scream at Blanka." Said matter-of-factly, Blanka stretches a bit to his full height, his normal crouched posture making him vaguely less intimidating. With the man in the hockey mask, it seemed to Blanka that he could afford to try to be a little bit imposing. Offering an answer, Blanka's grunt picks up volume as he starts to close in on the person that was pretty obviously his 'chosen playmate' for the day. Desolation or not, there was still a fight to be had; and with this particular playmate, Blanka felt like he could get a good test of his skills in.
"Blanka smart, strong human. Just like aroo. Momma said so when Blanka much younger." His speech patterns may not quite fit with human norms, but the assertation was a strong one. Handsome /and/ smart, what a catch! He curls his giant hands into lazy fists, and then swings one in a wide arc towards Mick's mask, trying to catch him off-guard. "Blanka not only one who have to hide face, huh?! You monster that Blanka trying to find?!"
COMBATSYS: Blanka successfully hits MURDERHOUSE with Aggressive Strike.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Blanka
Those eyes of his(just black pupils, no irises) narrow beneath his mask, and the wrestler scoffs, tightening his elbow pad and rolling his neck to let the bones crackle and pop, black hair in his face a little.
"Yeah? I think mama's been keepin' some secrets from her baby boy. Namely-"
Mick never finishes, because before he can react, that beast is throwing his arm out, and Mick gets absolutely blindsided, dropping to his side with a powerful crash. However, moments later he's rolling with the momentum and standing on his feet again, and grabbing out at Blanka's waist or knees and, if all goes to plan, hoisting him with a powerful strength and aiming his face, skull and neck area for that sturdy table right behind him. Blanka was right. He wasn't the only monster around here!
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE successfully hits Blanka with Improvised Throw.
- Power hit! -
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Blanka
Haw, haw, Blanka's pretty fast. Impact sends a nicely satisfying THUMP through his fingers, something he hasn't felt in Japan; the closest thing to it would be cracking various fruit open in the jungle. He didn't split Mick's melon, though; and the rejoinder is enough to make Blanka's eyes open wide in surprise. Grabbed and twisted, Blanka flails like a cat trying to right itself on the way down; it probably would have worked, had that sturdy table not stopped him on the way to the ground. It splinters into shards of wood; mostly in Blanka's back and side, and he makes a loud grunt of pain as he goes through and into the ash.
"No talk about mother like that. Talk about /monster/. Why hide so long, Blanka only monster. Blanka /tired/ of only monster. Everyone scared of Blanka."
As he starts to pull himself up from the dust and dirt and ash, he gathers two handfuls of the greywhite stuff in his giant grip, throwing it up towards the masked fighter. If he can make the man have problems seeing him, maybe he'll have a better chance of dodging those grips ad grapples! "Maybe /you/ should be scared of Blanka." he says, voice getting a bit lower, an undertone of a growl beneath it.
COMBATSYS: Blanka successfully hits MURDERHOUSE with Small Thrown Object.
- Power hit! -
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Blanka
Blanka was able to twist and Mick noted that the impact wasn't quite what he was going for, but it was devastating enough. He was honestly surprised that table gave so easily, he had plans for it later. But, as he got off the ground, coming to his feet and approaching the green-skinned beast again, he noted the projectile, puffed his chest out to accept the 'challenge', and was surprised when sand smashed him full-on in the face. That hockey mask of course protected him from any serious 'impact', but it got under the mask, it got through the mouth and nose-holes, it got past the eyeholes, and Mick was left coughing and waving his arms around in a big, bad cloud of dust.
Moments later, Blanka might be able to see something very peculiar, and very familiar: A cone of flame headed his way, this wouldn't be good for his copious amounts of bodyhair!
COMBATSYS: Blanka fails to interrupt House of Fire from MURDERHOUSE with Electric Thunder.
~ Cruel hit! ~
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0 Blanka
Stepping into a blast of ash and soot? Blanka is a bit surprised; perhaps this monster is a bit less bright than Blanka expected! Not every monster can be as smart and as handsome as Blanka can be, though; it's to be expected that there are outliers on both ends of the monster spectrum. He hangs his jaw open, a husky laugh escaping as Mick coughs and flails, looking on in something close to amusement.
That quickly changes of course as he realizes that his attack masked Mick's own retaliation, and he's suddenly face-to-flame with a sheet of fire. In instinctual reaction, Blanka steps forwards, his hands outstretched with which to grab his opponent, lightning blue and white flickering into existence around his body... none of which helps when he fails to find his opponent in the cloud of mistakenly-made soot. As it clears, Blanka's hunched down and smoking, soot showing much more clearly on his body, hair and face burned at the ends, and grey wisps rising from his hair. "Ngh."
Mick didn't stop, moving past Blanka in the cloud and dropping low underneath the smokescreen that Blanka himself provided, in order to grab his gym bag, and pull a length of something evil out of it...
Quickly wrapping it around his hands and ignoring the bleeding biting it causes, Mick attempts to sneak behind Blanka and wrap a barbwire garrote right around the beast's throat, pulling it as tight as he possibly can, and using his strength and superior size and weight to try and 'lift' Blanka up, right off of his feet!
"Surprise, freak. Miss me?"
COMBATSYS: Blanka dodges MURDERHOUSE's Large Random Weapon.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Blanka
Burned and bowed that he is, Blanka's not /quite/ ready to give in. He's still a bit lost and doesn't realize that Mick's gotten past him. He figures it out quite quickly as he sees the barbwire come down over his vision, and feels Mick slip into proper 'choke you out with painful barbwire' position. This will not do! Blanka's hands grab onto Mick's hands, and he swings himself upwards, using the large man's arms as his own personal jungle gym, rotating himself out of the near chokehold.
"Blanka not surprised; monster not just monster on outside, seems..!" With that he whips himself upwards and away, landing in a heap into the dirty, ash-filled ground nearby. With a WHUMPFH, a soot cloud bursts up, choking out the light. Within it, an ominous rumbling sound increases in volume. At the last second, Blanka bursts out of it, balled up and throwing himself right towards MURDERHOUSE's chest, fully intent on bouncing him into one of the nearby abandoned houses. "AWHROOOOO!"
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE fails to counter Rolling Attack from Blanka with Chaos Theory.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Blanka
With a sigh, Mick turns around, ignoring all the trash talking that a creature was dishing out to him, and very quickly unwrapped the barbwire from his left hand, to better wrap the entire thing around his right glove, the MMA padding now a bit more dangerous. All the better as, when Blanka shot out of that dust cloud, Mick actually ran towards the projectile, jumping up and throwing a dangerous right hand that...sailed right past his opponent. And up in the air like that, he had no footing. Blanka smashed into him, and they both smashed right through a wood and paper house, Mick rolling and landing in a nice dinner room, on his back and seemingly completely unconscious. Eyes rolled in the back of his head, arms and legs sprawled out, completely harmless.
Was he, though?
Landing nearby, Blanka lets just a bit of that adrenaline coursing through his body show. His gold eyes open wide, and as he stretches up and howls, his body radiates with that blue-white lightshow again. Nothing like a bit of posturing for the camera, after all. His opponent not standing up, or even looking like he's getting up is a bit of a cause for concern when he can think a bit more clearly, and he quickly comes up to a decision.
"You ok?! Blanka not really want to hurt badly.. Please say ok!" Oh noes! Blanka has hurt another person and now will be even more thought of as a monster!! This will do nothing for his image!! He bounds over and pokes at Mick inside the house, glad for a moment that the soot isn't around to make it harder to talk well and make full sentences. Breathing in deeply, he paws at Mick's mask, trying to get it off to let the other 'monster' breathe easier. "If fight over, that ok. Just get up, ok? Blanka not know own strength!!"
COMBATSYS: Blanka takes no action.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Blanka
Unfortunately for Blanka, he fell for it. He might have been very eloquent and educated as far as monsters go, but it appears he didn't watch horror movies or else he -never- would have approached the big, masked ultraviolent wrestler and reach up for his face. Instantly his eyes shoot open, the eyelids almost 'clicking' from the sudden movement even as both of his hands reach up to clutch Blanka's wrist.
"Yeah, I'm doing pretty good."
That was all the dialogue he gave before lashing his legs up to try and drape them across Blanka's chest, and if all went well, the green-skinned beast would soon be flipped over on his back, his arm between Mick's legs and being pulled, twisted and wrenched in a very evil armbar!
COMBATSYS: Blanka interrupts Choke Hold from MURDERHOUSE with Direct Lightning.
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MURDERHOUSE 1/--=====/=======|====---\-------\0 Blanka
He fell for it! Blanka fell for it!! Blanka /always/ falls for it! One of these days, Blanka will figure out that 'Opponent down' does not actually mean 'Opponent Down'. Instead, it means 'This is a trap, and you should just belly flop on your opponent anyways. He startles as Mick's eyes open up and those big hands grab him by the wrist. He's too slow to move as the legs come up and around his arm, and the first hard wrenching of his arm makes him wince in pain, breath starting to come harder as he's choked by the wrestling move.
And then he gets angry.
With a howl, Blanka sucks in a great lungful of air, and his hand turns to lay palm flat on MURDERHOUSE's chest. His eyes glow white, and he gets his feet up and under him. He pushes himself to his feet, and lifts the large man up with just one arm. At the same time, he's enveloped in blue-white lightning again, far stronger than before - this time it /does/ charge into its' target, even as he slams his arm and the man attached to it against the wall repeatedly. "LET BLANKA GOOOOO!!" he howls loudly, trying to explain why it is a bad idea to hold onto a very irate beastmonster Blanka!
Mick's plan was to not let go until he felt the shoulder pop right out of its socket, and then and only then would they continue the fight, with Mick finding every large object in a five mile radius to ram into that irritated shoulder.
Very fortunately for Blanka, and very unfortunately for the MURDERHOUSE, things never got to that point. Instead a hand reaches out to slap against his chest, and Mick is electrocuted to within an inch of his life. His body goes rigid but his hands are still holding on to that wrist, and he lets out a choked groan as his skin bakes and smoke rises up into the air from his mouth-holes, his flesh sizzling and crackling with electricity.
Blanka was probably used to someone getting away, but incredibly, in the middle of this electric onslaught, Mick...SAT UP. He sat up and glared down at Blanka, still holding his wrist and fighting his way painfully to his feet. He defied the violent voltage racking through his skeletal system, and with a sudden show of strength, shakes his body, stopping the voltage for one moment, and tries to pull Blanka up off the ground, and on to his shoulders!
This would be a bad place for Blanka to be. He didn't want to be here...because things would get worse for him if this worked for Mick!
COMBATSYS: Blanka endures MURDERHOUSE's Hellfire Hammer.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1 Blanka
Well, things just got bad for Blanka, because Mick, with the beast wrenched on his shoulders, left hand clutching him just under the jaw, and his right hand clutching Blanka around his knees, there was nowhere for him to go, as Mick leapt up into the air, smashing right through the roof of that home, and both of them dropping down back into the main street!
Now, this was a mystery. One of the tables with gasmasks littered on it, was pulled more into the main street. This place was supposed to be abandoned, so how did this happen? Far more importantly...who set this table on fire? These were valuable, important supplies, who set this table ablaze, what purpose did this serve?! Important questions that go unanswered, as Blanka's neck, shoulders and the back of his skull go smashing right through this fiery table, straight down to the ground beneath it!
And for his part, Mick was laying exhausted, covered in sweat and barely able to move. These moves took as much out of him as they did the enemy...well, that was a complete lie. Blanka just got it much, much worse than him!
Ow. Oh ow. Blanka realizes that he's in quite a lot of trouble just as MURDERHOUSE starts to power through his move. His lightning lasts a few seconds more, but it doesn't stop the other fighter from heaving him up from the ground and throwing Blanka onto his shoulders. At this point, Blanka realizes that he's not going for some fun, happy piggyback ride. Grabbed in an awkward fashion, Blanka's along for the ride with some painful gripping and being used as a battering ram indeed. Through the roof, and onto the street, into the table that is on fire?! Blanka /hates/ fire! Much like Frankenstein's monster. Cause Blanka is a monster! Slammed down, Blanka hits the ground in a heap with pieces of flaming table around him, making him something of a sooty, smoldery mess. And an angry one. One that was finally tired of being smashed into things and being called freak, and could finally hit back with all the 'monster' sayings that he'd ever gotten.
"Not done yet... /freak/." With that, Blanka ratchets his arms up and over quickly. He grabs for Mick's noggin with both giant hands and just pulls himself towards the other fighter. As he does so, his jaw distends with a CLACK sound, and he tries and aims to gnaw the fight right out of his opponent! He's given in to that bestial 'win' urge, ignoring the niceties of 'don't chew on your opponents, chew on your food'. Instead, he tries very, very hard to chew MURDERHOUSE's mask right off. Grr, an angry Blanka is indeed a fierce thing to see!
COMBATSYS: Blanka successfully hits MURDERHOUSE with Wild Fang.
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MURDERHOUSE 0/-------/-======|=======\==-----\1 Blanka
Mick was working up to his knees when he gets manhandled by that beast, and then it's a fight for his very life. Mick is struggling and turning, turning his head this way and that, throwing up his arms as a guard, doing everything he can to avoid his face getting eaten, or more importantly, his mask getting damage too much. And aside from a few deep gashes in the material he succeeds, but at the cost of everything else. He's a mess of blood and deep cuts and bites, red plasma oozing down in a sickening looking mess that looks really bad. It looks gruesome, grisly and bad.
In the middle of it, where he should be out on his feet, instead his eyes are rolled in the back of his head, and his right arm slaps out, aiming for Blanka's throat! With the barbwire wrapped around his fist, this could definitely hurt. But something worse was on the way, if this worked...
COMBATSYS: MURDERHOUSE can no longer fight.
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Blanka 1/-----==/=======|
COMBATSYS: Blanka fails to interrupt Cemetary Gates from MURDERHOUSE with Wild Fang.
COMBATSYS: Blanka can no longer fight.
Blanka's throat was grabbed, and Mick instantly roared out in a voice completely unlike his normal tone, all savage and bestial, and something deeper than human, while his eyes felt like they were boring right into the monster's skull.
"LOOK! AT! ME!"
Mick was unaware of his latent PSYCHO power, he didn't know that he was glaring deep into Blanka's mind, and forcing every failure, every feeling of doubt, every nagging thought at four in the morning to the surface. He didn't know that he was forcing the creature to relive every moment where he thought, deep down, that maybe people were right. Every moment of self-worthlessness, of depression and pain, of fear and misery, all swirling around where he couldn't hide it all down.
There was only a little bit of this, Mick thought that the real 'punishing' part of the move would be how he lifts Blanka high above his head by the monster's throat, and how he SLAMS the creature down with authority moments later.
And, followed by Blanka, Mick would fall facedown, exhausted and too beaten to go on any further. He tries to push himself up, but he only succeeds in collapsing on his side afterward.
"Damn."
And in that moment of clarity, staring into his opponent's eyes, Blanka can /see/. Or at least, he thinks he can. In that Psycho-fueled mental anguish, he realizes that /it is all true/. He's the monster that he fears he is, with the blood of his opponent in his mouth and on his hands, still making reflexive chewing motions with his mouth as if to /feed/.
Like a monster.
Slammed to the ground, Blanka rolls just a bit away. He can't fight further, suddenly afraid and ashamed of everything he is. Hurting, wounded, barely concious, he can't think to ask any more questions and instead scrabbles into the swirling smoke and ash and away from what he thinks the truth is. That truth: He was told if he came here, he'd learn about the monsters that walk the world. He did. The only monster that pretends to be a man, when it comes right down to it - is himself.
Log created on 18:57:57 08/25/2014 by MURDERHOUSE, and last modified on 21:59:24 08/25/2014.