Neo League 0165 - NL#0192: Upsilon vs Tarmo[Toggle Names]
Description: Neo League Action in the Morning! Watch as the Dutch Experiment Upsilon takes on the Finnish Bear! Who will win this grapple showcase between the might muscle and the power of chi! Tune in to also see a performance from Haruka-Chan and T-Set. Provided no mishaps preempt the scheduled programming.
A warm sunrise casts long shadows over the Southtown Village Mall. Early enough that many of the shops and stalls are still being set up in preparation of a day of sales and customers looking for some fun in the summer sun. A "Breakfast time Bash" was some person's design for a good idea to attract early morning crowds to have some entertainment, and for B-roll footage of hardworking Southtown residents getting ready for their honest day's work. The purpose of this season's League.
The stage for the morning's bouts is just that, a proper stage set up on one of the small grassy parks, rigged with lighting, cameras and fenced off with the appropriate amounts of tasteful fencing. Several stalls are already up and advertising local foods to both the fight and film crews and the locals showing up to gawk. A calm, pleasant attitude hangs in the air.
The van and its equipment are a good distance away, being tended by the NESTs agents under Upsilon's charge. While the man himself is sullenly waiting by the ringside with a suited retainer. "Another man with a losing record?" he questions, speaking not to the cutman, but to the people on the otherside of his everpresent bluetooth earpiece. He looks upward to see the quiet little drones overhead. Filming being done for NESTs evidence and detail on top of the more regular cameras intended for the League's purpose. "Don't bother answering, the question was rhetorical. I know why you keep funneling these people toward me."
Anooyed at the world in general, Upsilon pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and waves off the retainer. He passes through the small opening allowed for the fighters so that he can skip the stairs with a short hop up to the raised fighting stage. His white coat catches the still low sun, and his glasses shine alongside. "I'm here to beat another fool for thinking they have what it takes to compete. Come on then, bring him out already!" he calls, growing impatient with each passing opponent.
The whole breakfast-focused event does end up attracting plenty of people. And as it happens, it ended up attracting the second fighter lined up for this particular bout.
This might be what contributes to the bit of a delay that Upsilon is getting impatient with. And is evidenced further with the big ol' bag of breakfast pastries that a certain massive Finn brings along with him towards the stage set up on the grassy area.
"Heyoooo!" The rumble-voiced call comes out as Tarmo approaches. Even in spite of the warmer weather of the summer month the finn still insists, for some reason, to wear his by-now trademark field jacket with a fur-lined hood... wherein the warm air most definitely contributes to the fact that he's left it unzipped and opted to wear no shirt of any kind whatsoever underneath, leaving the tall northerner's firmly-muscled abdomen and chest exposed.
"You're the guy, right? The dutch boy? THeee..." He taps one finger against his chin in thought as he steps up to the stage, before his eyes light up with some strike of memory.
He grins way too wide with this almost-correct guess.
"Anywaaaayyyy... I ended up bringing way too much of these things with me, I couldn't work through them on the way here." The bag-o'-pastries is held out towards the dutchman in the white coat with that. "Ya want some?"
The name Jakob van der Lans is one seldom used anymore. It was a name that died when he disappeared. The name of a failed fighter who wished to take on a world much bigger than himself. The name put away when he was given offers by NESTs to become something better. To become something bigger. An opportunity he took though it cost him much of who he was that day.
That said, he's still Dutch and his accent is quite clearly so. But the idea of being called 'Dutch boy' drives an irate spike through a man whose diplomacy dike is already cracking under the strain of his own existence.
That said, he is surprisingly unbothered by the misnaming. The amount of people who get that one wrong is too many to be anything more than a low grade indictment of the education systems around the world.
But the man takes one look at the pasties and he sighs with an exasperation that rumbles from the depth of his chi manipulating soul. The veins that run over the black compression suit he has on under his labcoat begin to run bright orange even before the fight begins. "I don't want your snacks!" he snaps. "Alright then, let's get this over with so that I can mark another loss off in your column."
He pushes his glasses up his nose, closing his eyes, wondering again why this is a display of his skill. "How you hold the rank you do in this, I don't understand. But I will see you put into your place." Calming, he takes his posture up, cold and dead eyes staring daggers over his wireframe glasses.
COMBATSYS: Upsilon has started a fight here.
The Finn's brows lift up slowly, and he just... stares back at the other man for a good several seconds. Blink. Blink.
"... You're kind of a worked up one, aren't ya?" Tarmo rumbles, slowly rolling one boulder-sized shoulder around before he fishes his hand into the bag to bring out one of the little pastries, popping it into his mouth. Potentially swallowed whole at that.
"Well, I guess it can't be helped." Stepping back towards the edge of the ring, he casually drops the bag out of bounds before turning to face Upsilon fully. Head tilting to one side, and then the other, audibly popping some joints in his neck as it's stretched out.
"Alright then. No bullshitting in that case." Lifting one foot up, he stamps it right back down with hefty force that sends a loud *THUMP* echoing through the park while he spreads his legs slowly. Posture hunching over some, arms spreading out at his sides and held forward with fingers spread out. Like he's mimicing a bear. He's certainly large enough to pass as one.
"Let's do this then!" The Finn practically roars out as he stomps forward with another nearly-earth-shaking weight, charging at the other European with his massive paws reached out to grab for him. A grab he intends to make use of to hold on to his sides with and just hoist him into a spinning throw across the stage, if he manages to get that far!
COMBATSYS: Tarmo has joined the fight here.
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Upsilon 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Tarmo
COMBATSYS: Upsilon blocks Tarmo's Moukariheitto.
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Upsilon 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Tarmo
Worked up is Upsilon's basic state. His disdain for most of the people in the world that aren't himself is pretty palpable. And with NESTs current objective being effectively planned, it has left him with a great deal of frustration. At least the Finn is clear headed enough to just put himself to the task at hand.
A big grapple, and Upsilon is a striker that isn't much used to doing much clinching. Heavy arms grab tight, but while Upsilon isn't one to enter too many grapples, he is a person that's familiar with squirming and breaking from them. As the crunching grip sets in, Upsilon forces his way out after a gasping breath. Sent, he doesn't fall hard, rather landing on his feet and keeping to his fighting stance. His shoes sliding close to the edge of the raised stage. Not ring-out in this contest, however.
With a snort, one of begrudging respect for the swiftness of the big man, Upsilon enters the fray with his first test of the bear wrestler. He comes in with quick jabbing combinations. Each punch punctuated with explosive concussive bursts of pulsing orange chi that thump with audible thrums that linger in the air.
As the flying fists finish, he turns with a strong, face aimed, chin shattering roundhouse.
COMBATSYS: Tarmo blocks Upsilon's Iteration Three.
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Upsilon 0/-------/------=|===----\-------\0 Tarmo
"Hey, pretty good," the bearish finn rumbles with a flash of a toothy grin sent back after the other man while he's sliding away after his escape from the tight grasp. He's quick to stomp right after him again-- but also rather quickly discouraged from leaning too fully into the advance, when Upsilon decides to meet him halfway instead!
"Whoa!" The man grunts out with his arms coming up form a meaty barrier in between himself and the incoming blows. The bursts of energy he can't quite soak up as well as the physical blows themselves, wincing with each one as pieces of thick fabric at his sleeves is burnt off.
"Sheesh-- you're pretty--" He starts, only to be broken off when he's forced to turning his right arm to besides his head, halting the dutchman's leg in it's path towards his face.
"Alright, off now!" He growls, turning his arm to grab at the leg and just make a forceful shove, intent on clearing some space at minimum, and hopefully sending his opponent down to the floor in the best case scenario.
COMBATSYS: Upsilon endures Tarmo's Improvised Throw.
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Upsilon 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Tarmo
A heartbeat pulse thrums with each moment. The energy, kept under pressure by Upsilon's NESTs grade tech, threatens to explode forth with each exertion made by Upsilon. Even when he's grabbed, he keeps in close. He tucks his knee and curls inward to grab onto Tarmo's arm to hold fast.
He isn't avoiding the slam, far from it, what he's doing is going into the strike to keep himself close and where he needs to be. He thuds down on the ground, thrown, but his grip has help him from being too far away from the grappler. To keep him without space so that Upsilon can make good on hitting the marks exactly where he needs them to.
From the ground to his feet in a split second, the wood threatens to crack from the hammering force propelling Upsilon upward. It seems that faced with an opponent of Tarmo's mass and physique, Upsilon is bound and determined to show the man up with an overwhelming show of force.
COMBATSYS: Tarmo interrupts Fierce Punch from Upsilon with Karhun Isku EX.
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Upsilon 0/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Tarmo
"Hrh?!" Most people don't purposefully keep themselves so dangerously close to Tarmo after such an exchange, so he is understandably surprised by the sight. Impressed, too, but he's not going to admit to that one right off the bat.
He continues his own momentum forward from the shove that sent Upsilon down in the first place, with one fist swinging back behind himself. Eyes narrowing as the wood underneath his opponent cracks -- and then exploding to send him up at him.
Rather than trying to step away, he willfully leans right in to meet the incoming blow, with his own fist swinging back out from behind himself in a wide arc that carries it up and down again.
What this leads to is Upsilon's wildly-flying fist to slamming against the side of the Finn's face hard enough to knock it aside -- but not hard enough to stop *his* enormous fist from plummeting down and smashing right into Upsilon's own face with enough force to halt his upward momentum and slam him right back down into the ground.
"Gh--!" Grunts Tarmo right after, recoiling from the counter-cross with one step back, rubbing at the side of his aching jaw with one hand. "No wonder ya were worked up-- ya got all that energy to work off, huh?"
Crashed to the ground. Crushed the the earth. Flattened hard enough to break some of the boards of the stage. Around the ring, the fight coordinators look at one another as they try to assess if they built this thing properly and if someone should stop things before their hard work is destroyed. A Neo League fight was just supposed to be the first of the showcases that day, they still had idol groups to go on!
But Upsilon sneers upward from his flattened, half buried in cracked wood, position. His coat is as wide open as Tarmo's, though he doesn't bare a chest. The dark bodysuit and the pulsing lines of focused chi energy are shown in stark contrast to the cold and clinical white of his coat.
The man kicks up, rolling up to his feet and wiping a trail of red from his lip with the back of his hand. He exhales once, and breathes in deep. Fixing his glasses, he fixes his attention on his opponent. "Do you want energy?" he asks. "Fine then."
Thumping, thudding sounds hammer the air and the ground cracks as short chi waves ripple along the ground about Upsilon's feet. He suddenly, violently, careens forward, a bass thudding warping the air behind the man as a sound wave pulses and he launches forward with a ground quaking step and a single thrusting kick for Tarmo's chest. The end of the kick exploding outward with a shotgun blast of purely concussive chi output cranked to a force that seems to tear at Upsilon's very body.
COMBATSYS: Upsilon successfully hits Tarmo with Regulator.
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Upsilon 0/-------/-------|=======\====---\1 Tarmo
"Kinda part of why I am here, dont'cha know?" Tarmo declares with another wide, toothy grin while he stomps casually towards Upsilon, cracking the knuckles on one hand and then the other on the way there. "It's just all so much fun, ain't it?"
But him taking it slow works against him. Upsilon's had plenty time to get up and work up that energy the Finn more or less dared out. The explosion of chi brings Tarmo's eyes widening out in surprise, and realizing whatever is coming is going to be much too strong to just take head on, he stomps to the si-
The kicking foot slams powerfully enough against Tarmo's broad chest that for just a split second, it actually looks as though the poor man's torso might have just been caved in before he gets launched across the stage. Enormous, heavy body bouncing along it and cracking the wooden boards underneath it with each collision before he finally slumps down, momentum slowing into a slide along the groudn before he stops completely.
The massive man twitches on the groudn for several seconds, steam wafting up along from his body. ONe of the officials is just about ready to simply call it as Upsilon's win, but--
"VERY GOOD! HAHAHA!"
One massive palm slams down onto the ground , and pushes to lift Tarmo's upper body up, bringing his face to flashing a wild grin at him -- only a split second's pause before he's pushed further up, and immediately kicking himself up on the way there to set into a mad charge after his opponent. "But I ain't done!!!"
His advance on Upsilon ends with a leap into the air, casting a shadow upon the man as the Finn sails through the air -- and then falls down right at him, hands reaching to grab and squeeze on tightly at his shoulders as the full weight of him threatens to come bearing down on him.
COMBATSYS: Upsilon fails to interrupt Pommitus from Tarmo with Remix Wave.
- Power fail! -
-@- Dazing Hit! -@-
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Upsilon 0/-------/---====|=======\=====--\1 Tarmo
The energy overload continues. He carries through with a step, and he even pushes forward with a challenge to Tarmo. The big an hurls himself to Upsilon. Upsilon cocks his arm back and swipes his hand across his body. A disc of chi begins to form, ready to cut down the big Finnish brute.
But the power doesn't come in time. Tarmo lands hard. Grabbing, crushing, squeezing the life from the lean Dutchman. Upsilon is left wheezing, the breath sapping from him. Still and coughing and struggling.
And then comes the crash. The slamming, crushing crunch as the big man brings down the house atop Upsilon. And he is stunned, a world gone black. A dizzied, staggered, ruined looking wreck in the wake of a force finally too much to handle his own.
Not to speak of the flushed crew of the fight who are now looking at an even more devastated stage. A growing murmur of 'who did we get to do this?' starting to pass among the observers.
Tarmo grunts instinctively, too, when the landing finally comes... however, unlike Upsilon, he had something to cushion his fall. Namely Upsilon himself.
"WHoof, that burnt a lot too, you know..." He groans out with a wince while he pulls himself up and back away from his opponent, with one hand pressed to his chest where he got kicked so powerfully earlier. Okay, there isn't actually a hole in there, good. Sure felt like there might have been though! "You got me all heated up nice but..."
In his retreat and rise, he stomps back away, but still keeps himself lowered -- enough that he can snap his hand down to grab at Upsilon's ankle while he's still down on the ground.
"--Sorry, I know what's gonna happen if I just let ya get up!"
Unless the NESTs operative can either slip away entirely or writhe himself free of the incoming, bone-crushing grip, he would quickly get suddenly pulled up when the Bear Finn rises up to his full height and swung higher by that grip, like he weighed absolutely nothing. ONly to be swung right back down to the ground again in a cruel smash, repeatedly, over and over again, like a ragdoll... or a human-shaped hammer used to smash the wooden floor of the stage. Take your pick.
COMBATSYS: Upsilon blocks Tarmo's Hakkaa Paalle EX.
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Upsilon 0/-------/-======|=------\-------\0 Tarmo
Dazed, confused, struggling to bring a world back to senses. Upsilon is a sitting duck for the Finn's ready grip. Further, he is not a heavyset man, And his lightness does him no favors here. Up from the ground he is yanked. And down to the ground he smashes. The ground shudders. The boards break.
Up again, and down again. Over and over he his battered and beaten and left without breath and near unconsciousness. But all things end, even this assault. And from the ashes rises the man in the tattered coat. His glasses are nothing more than glittering remnants on his bodysuit, shining as the morning sun gets higher. His hair a mess, purple marks already coming in on his face.
And still he raises his arms, still he fights beyond what he has in him.
He cannot see well, but he burns with a prideful intensity. A heavy, swinging kick, it cuts the air and a last, final wave of shear force comes from Upsilon's desperate, unaimed, unconcerned assault.
The kick follows through, and with it, follows the man, as he stumbles, tumbles and crashes to the ground in a heap just outside of the ring, a limp lump of a fighter beaten solidly, and brutally, by the bear wrestling Finn.
COMBATSYS: Upsilon successfully hits Tarmo with Flare Wave.
- Power hit! -
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Upsilon 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Tarmo
In the wake of the cacophonous wave, it appears that Upsilon is torn down by the Finn. Off the edge of the stage, away from the world. But then, he stirs. NESTs technology stirs within him, his body adapted and supercharged with the flow of earthly powers. The internal augmentations done to the man brings him rousing back to consciousness. The air pounds, the orange tubes crossing his body, running from hands to feet to heart thrum with flowing light. He slams a hand onto the stage and hurls himself back up.
Panting, hunched, the NESTs agent licks his bloodstained teeth and grimaces at Tarmo. "Bring it."
"All things do come to an end. And inevitably, Tarmo's grip on the NESTs agent loosens and lets go entirely, to leave the man slumping onto the ground. Tarmo himself is running a bit ragged after the display of pure physical force, staggering back a couple steps' worth before stopping. Right on time with Upsilon getting back up onto his feet, prompting the Finn's brows to shoot up.
"Goddamn, buddy... You do got some fire in ya, huh..." The grin he flashes out does not seem exactly displeased by this either. The other man has been giving a good fight for him so far, afterall.
Tarmo stomps in with the intention to come in and finish off the job -- but as he does, so does Upsilon's next defiant attack. A mass of energy guided by his kick to smash against him. "Oh fu-"
Though he realizes just in time that his timing is a bit slower than his, he can't quite manage to bring his arms up quick enough. The energy hits him straight on, cutting painfully into his skin and leaving a burning gash across his front as the pure force behind it sends him skidding back along the stage with a sharp growl of pain.
Panting loudly, from exertion and pain both, he remains standing upright still, even if hunched over, head hanging low. Only lifting his eyes up to look to him once his bloodied man calls out that defiant challenge.
"...Yeah, alright..." grunts Tarmo, lowering his posture a bit further, with one palm pressed down to the ground, knees bending underneath him. "Let's finish this."
And from that posture, he launches himself into wild, barreling dash across the stage, with his arms crossed infront of him. Crossing the distance created by Upsilon's blast of energy, closing in on him now like a freight train. There's no refinement in it, no, no grace. Just a final burst of energy and strength with the pure intention of seeing this fight now to it's end one way or the other, even if it has to come in the form of just quite literally running over the other guy.
COMBATSYS: Upsilon fails to interrupt Rynnakko from Tarmo with Flare Jammer.
- Power fail! -
[ \\\\\ <
COMBATSYS: Upsilon can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\ <
Fire, that's one way to put it. Upsilon can barely move. Barely struggle forward against Tarmo. His plan, for how much one can call it a plan, is to wait until the Finn is too close to avoid a final, fight ending release of chi. He stands and wavers, waiting, waiting, waiting.
The world fades away for a moment, and when vision comes back to him, he has the Finn on top of him. Too quick, too hard to fight against. He can't do it. Not in time.
Bang! A crushing crash that slams Upsilon back. Off his feet, into the air. He clangs off the safety railing, proving the names inappropriate in this moment. Into the ground, past the people there, and tumbling out over the many footpaths of the pedestrian mall.
He doesn't move this time. Still. And now, the judge, still with his hand halfway in the air from calling the fight for Tarmo just moments before Upsilon stood back up, can finally raise his signal. The winner, this time definitively, is Tarmo.
But elsewhere, sitting in a van and watching readouts register from the sensors all over Upsilon's body, the NESTs scientists make notes on the transpirings today. On the force loads imparted on Upsilon, and comparisons to chi output and strength semblances. A bevy of information, and all it cost was the continued ego of a defeated Dutchman.
After the impact of two bodies agains each other, even the larger man is sent stumbling and finally falling down otn othe ground with a roll and a loud groan of pain. The downside of deciding to finish the fight by quite literally throwing himself into his opponent.
But unlike Upsilon, Tarmo does get up... mostly. He manages to push himself up to one knee, but getting up further than that proves beyond him right now, so he decides to just drop himself down to sitting on his bum down on the ground.
":..Wow, we kinda really let the place have it too, huh..." He rumbles while his eyes roam over the stage and all the damage inflicted upon the wooden floor of it. And then down over to the slumped, unmoving form of Upsilon.
"...Hey, you, over there," he calls out, pointing vaguely to one of the organizers outside the stage. "Get some of the pastries from my bag and bring'm over to him, yeah? Tell'm it's for givin' a good fight."
The one organizer does move on to accomodate the request, but another official moves closer, instead. *Glaring* at Tarmo.
"Yeah, yeah, that was a good fight and all, but you know we were supposed to have Haruka-chan and T-set performing here after, right? How do you think they're gonna do that like this? How're you going to fix this?"
Suddenly, Tarmo finds himself sweating bullets.
COMBATSYS: Tarmo has ended the fight here.
Log created on 11:28:32 06/07/2021 by Upsilon, and last modified on 19:16:35 06/07/2021.