Oglesby Misra vs. John Poppins

*Featuring:*

Spooky Mittens

as

[Ogelsby Misra](https://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/barton-ooc/gcl-season-one-roster/t.99691329_2/#2)

and

MelonusHead

as

[John Poppins](https://www.gaiaonline.com/forum/barton-ooc/gcl-season-one-roster/t.99691329_8/#8)

Camora Labratory

Brought to you by Camora.

Camora, College of Powers and Mystic Arts, is one of many places in Gaia where metahumans and fighters gather to study and hone their abilities. There are many "laboratories" within Camora, each suited to a particular approach to combat, or a kind of supernal ability. One of the most widely-used laboratories is the alchemical lab, full of supernatural and mundane materials for creating potions, tinctures, and all manner of alchemical items.

Terrain

General: The Alchemical Lab is a 75' x 75 room with floors, walls, and ceiling of oak. Glass globes full of fae-dust hang from the ceiling and dot the walls at regular intervals, providing steady illumination throughout the room. Rows of tables run up and down the room. Four rows, each fifteen feet apart, and each with seven tables. Each table in a row is eight feet ahead of the one behind it, allowing for plenty of space for alchemists to bustle back and forth. The walls are lined with alchemical ingredients and reagents, as are many of the tables.

Weapons: Glass bottles and vials litter the tables. Each table has a Bunsen burner, a sink/faucet, a mortar and pestle, an alembic, and a calcinator. Most of the calcinators are full of ash. Common alchemical ingredients found: dragon's blood, vampire ash, dragon horn, phoenix quill, and most mundane alchemical roots, herbs, and minerals. Scrolls (papyrus and vellum) are commonplace.

Bonus Features: You could make a Fetty Wap reference, somehow.

John unfortunately couldn’t profess to arriving any sooner than Ogelsby’s last opponent, as he was taken in by the weirdness of Camora. He drew a few interested stares as he walked down the long hallways of the College, especially when he made a remark or swore appreciatively. Even here, in a place where all sorts from Gaia practiced their skills, the British street-thief stood out like a sore thumb. Shabby as always, donned in cap, patchy jacket and stained white shirt, John looked like he wouldn’t have been able to afford a hansom to the College, let alone attend. Yet there he was, mucking up their nice clean corridor with muddy boots, only his black trousers even remotely resembling standard smart dress. Not that he cared one bit, whistling, swearing, grinning at the ladies like he knew what to do with one (he didn’t) he was a generally obnoxious sight to behold.

However, one can only roam around being a nuisance for so long before they get ushered to their damn match. John had to suffer the indignity of one of the invisible people speaking at him through another one of the metal things up in the corner of a doorway. He was growing somewhat more familiar with technology in the strange place he’d found himself, but he still hadn’t worked out where they found people tiny enough to hide in a little metal box. He made a mental note he was certain to forget to open one up later on and threaten the guy inside to reveal his secrets. He’d make a killing back home if he brought back a midget.

“Righ’… righ’. keep yaw ‘at on I’m goin’.”

John finally arrived, perhaps half an hour late if Ogelsby had followed the schedule himself. He waltzed in whistling, the handle of his cane resting on his right shoulder, the haft in his right hand. His left hand was in his belt buckle, pulling back his open jacket to reveal the misleadingly small pouch filled with rock at his side. There was a grin on his dirty looking face, the sort that instantly infuriated adults. Shame he didn’t seem to be fighting one.

“Alrigh ‘dere me ol' china wha’s yaw story den?” He asked Ogelsby, in no particularly hurry to fight the orange looking bloke with a cutter in his hand.

Spooky Mittens Wrote:

John looked on with a sort of understanding amusement, surprisingly docile and less insulting than usual. It seemed John too was surprised to be fighting a younger guy, perhaps even younger than him as he seemed to stand a little shorter than his own five seven. He actually felt a little bad, and wondered if that was how adults felt when they had to fight him. He shrugged noticeably at his own train of thought, he’d take whatever advantage he could get.

If Ogelsby gave the cane a decent looking over, he might notice the texture was off when glancing at the three foot walking implement. The reason for this was pretty simple, the thing was made of solid granite and weighed almost ten kg’s. Even with his prolific strength, John would tire himself out from swinging it around pretty quick if not for the fact that he cheated a little with his power. He was a rock elementalist after all, so using a weapon made of his chosen element was always going to be beneficial.

John’s own observation were as casual as ever, when it came to checking over the scenery he could pick out details of importance instantaneously, when it came to people he tended to just be evaluating how much cash was in their pockets. Guy was wearing some sort of glowing orange armour and holding a sword, that was about it. Slowly, casually, John’s left foot slid forward over the well-worn oaken floor. There was a straight path to Ogelsby as he stood in the centre of the lab but there were rows of tables to either side of them with a decent amount of space in-between. They weren’t technically forced into a coridoor to fight, but the tables covered with glasses filled with shit gave the illusion they were. They were at least thirty feet apart from a quick estimation, maybe a little more.

“No’ tha’ much of’a talka ‘den ma’ey? Fine wi’h me, le’s go den.”

He stepped forward on his right foot, flicking the cane off his shoulder and flourishing it with a cheeky grin, even as his left hand sunk to the pouch at his waist and flicked open the top. He took a handful of rocks and shut the pouch again, utilizing his sleight of hand to make the movement as innocuous as possible even as his hand returned to its position in his belt, the digging sensation there telling him he had a good amount of spiked rocks nestled in his palm. He took another step, and another, and eventually he was walking at a goodly pace towards the orange-haired boy, his cane flourishing all the way. It wasn’t exactly easy to swing a three foot cane around in circles, but he managed it deftly.

Eventually he’d close to within a reasonable fighting distance, perhaps seven feet at most, his left foot settling in front of his right with that side of his body slightly closer to his foe. Unless Ogelsby moved towards him at any point, which he suspected he would, in which case John wouldn’t be reacting in such a fashion. His flourishing continued until the last moment, making it hard to predict exactly which movement would be the attack if Ogelsby was distracted by all his flashy movements, which was unlikely. Ultimately, the attack wouldn’t be coming from the cane at all, at least not at first, as John’s left hand bunched and he prepared himself to throw. The question was, would Ogelsby take the fight to John first as he stood at seven feet away, his cane swinging.

Spooky Mittens Wrote:

> Left hand full of rocks, flourishing his cane like a boss, standing seven feet away, shit-eating grin, not much else happening.

John wasn’t really much of a swordsman, hence why he went into a scrap with a big pole made of stone, basically. He might have recognised a feint from a punch, but when it came to a cut from a sword the rules were all different and he wasn’t one to take chances. Evidently looking pre-emptive and possibly even cowardly to his orange-haired foe, John immediately took a half-step back on his right foot in response to Ogelsby’s advance and the ensuing feint and dragged his left to follow as his enemy closed in. He’d picked the distance pretty carefully himself, knowing he could draw the man forward like a fencer at the very least but still escape through merit of his speed alone. The strike would cut the air in front of him, but miss him by about a foot.

That being said, there was still something in range even allowing for his step back, as his flourish transitioned into a hooking motion forward with the cane starting with the handle just over and behind his right shoulder. He swung the weapon forward in a tight vertical strike aimed for roughly the middle of his foe’s own blade at about half extension. The aim was to hook the handle over the top of the blade, catching it in the crook. It wouldn’t be easy if his opponent was a nimble swordsman, but you never knew. Regardless of if the weapon was hooked or not, John would drag his own weapon backwards with a harsh pull from his right arm. If the blade was trapped even momentarily, he’d twist his right hand effectively causing the end of the hook to tighten up against the blade and potentially flipping it straight out of Ogelsby’s hand, if it wasn’t hooked it would simply be a speedy retreat.

Or so it would seem, unless Ogelsby was paying as close attention as his fish-like gaze suggested. In which case he might notice that John’s left hand would have freed itself from his belt buckle and sat at the ready low at his left side. While retracting his weapon John would take a further step back on his right foot and use the natural turn of his body and the retraction of his weapon to whip his left hand forward underarm, while his hand unclenched around the stones held there and shot outwards at high speed. At nearly eighty miles per hour, the spiked rocks would fly at Ogelsby’s face and threaten him with bleeding wounds or even blinding if he was unlucky enough. John cheated, basically. What did you expect?

Spooky Mittens Wrote:

As he’d pretty much expected from the look of him, the little guy was using his sabre more like it was a fencing sword like a foil or something similar. That meant the weapon probably wouldn’t be as much of a cutter as its brethren, but it could thrust and it’d be quick at the point. Fast enough for the tip to slip out of the crook of his cane before he could twist his hand and clamp it, at any rate. No matter, as he spun and released the rocks from his hand, his foe reacting in record speed to his movement and activating his shield. Apparently he hadn’t been too fixed on the cane attack after all, which was a shame, most people tended to focus on the thing in front of them. Maybe he’d noticed John pulling something from his pouch? Impressive.

That was sneaky? Sure was. John grinned in response, his extra back-step ensuring he still maintained a distance that would require his foe to step and lunge to reach him. The question was how much he’d appreciate his next one. He hadn’t retracted his weapon so harshly for no reason (considering his target had escaped) he rarely did anything for no reason when it came to scrapping. It was to allow him to flip the weapon up and back onto his shoulder, this time with the crook behind his head. He was watching Ogelsby carefully, ready to dart to either side into the tables where his natural agility would be more useful. He stepped back in time with Ogelsby’s advance, knowing he had a solid distance to work with, and he was working with it. Time was all he really needed to exact his plan, as Ogelsby casually walked forward and opened himself up to the real danger, namely the rocks strewn on the floor behind him. They quivered and lifted up behind him, even as John grinned his annoying toothy grin.

“Wa’ch dis one den.” The rocks, having been barely half a kg, took barely any of his concentration to maintain hovering in the air, as the tip of his cane sticking out in front of his right hand moulded into a vicious seven inch spike. Unknown perhaps to Ogelsby, the excess rock created by tapering the weapon actually forced it to lengthen, increasing the weapon’s overall length to about three and a half feet, albeit while slightly thinning its structure and lessening its structural integrity. John seemed to be doing a lot at once, but in reality each action was fairly simple even when paired together. The rocks hovered almost five or six feet behind his enemy and his cane sharpened to a point and lengthened slightly, that was about it, unless Ogelsby decided to attack first. Perhaps two seconds of work at most, two seconds and two steps.

Spooky Mittens Wrote:

Of course, now that John’s cane was a spear he was going to want to hold it like one. With his remaining step before the ensuing charge he casually flicked the weighty object off his shoulder and released it, catching it further down the shaft just down from the hook and holding it underarm. His left side was forward and consequently so was that hand when it clasped around the weapon, holding it securely like a short spear. He looked like he was bracing himself even before he had any indication that Ogelsby was coming toward him, but the truth was that he was about to enact his own plan. That was until his foe started to glow brightly and swapped his fancy shield thing round, before falling forward and leaping at him like a lunatic. John reacted pre-emptively, believing Ogelsby to be somewhat distracted with his shield machinations he went for the oldest trick in the book.

“Behin’ you ma’e!” He yelled, and in truth his warning was an honest one, as the relatively small volume of rock behind Ogelsby shot towards the back of his head at about sixty miles per hour. The rock themselves were small but many, so they lacked the mass to really injure the boy even if he lacked proper protection at the back of the skull. What they could do though, was distract him or even momentarily disorientate him at just the right moment. Fortunately for John, it would catch Ogelsby about half-way through his charge, which was also coincidently when John would brace himself with his spear half-extended towards the boy’s upper chest. It was going to come down to a question of mass in the end, unless Ogelsby displayed the ability to suddenly change direction while charging. John may well lose such a battle, except for one small factor in his favour, as with each passing millisecond between Ogelsby potentially being hit by small rocks and closing the gap between them, John’s mass was rapidly rising.

At the last moment, John thrust, adding his own strength to his spear-cane and aiming to direct it under the shield if it was levelled at him, though failing that he’d accept a glancing blow to its lower half, such a thing could potentially defeat the boy’s defence and have him impale himself on the cane regardless.

Spooky Mittens Wrote:

Ooh, nasty. Rocks to the back of the head, falling all sorts of weird, Ogelsby was in a spot of bother. On the plus side, he’d blocked the tip of the cane-spear and had it glance off his armour, which must have been made of some tough stuff because it was barely scratched from the impact. There wasn’t much time for any thought after that, as the littler man collapsed right into the wiry Brit. Or rather, he barrelled into him in an ungainly fashion that probably would have saw him on his back if not for the fact that he was cheating again. His normally fairly average weight of around 60kg had more than doubled in the short space of time before Ogelsby hit him, and so instead his back right foot slid across the oak floor and his entire body followed, almost slipping out beneath him before he stabilised with another back-step. It was uncertain what would happen to Ogelsby as John was forced back almost five feet, but it probably wouldn’t be good.

John had two responses to two potential scenarios, the first would have Ogelsby fall to the ground in front of him, in which case he’d get John’s right knee flying straight toward his face for his trouble. The second would have Ogelsby remain on his feet in front of him, in which case he’d get the hook of the cane in the face for his trouble, as John brought the point of the weapon up and to the left and slammed forth a right uppercut with the crook of his stone weapon at the end of it. If neither occurred somehow, then things would have to be revaluated. Either way, the combo-play was strong, and with his enemy dazed he’d not be in the best position to avoid it.

Spooky Mittens Wrote:

When it came to scrapping like thugs on the street, John was really in his element. The crook of his cane took Ogelsby in the face with his weight still increased, and he was lucky to only lose a tooth from the impact from the club-like weapon. Now John wasn’t concentrating on anything but inflicting maximum damage with his cane he could move it quicker, albeit still slower than usual as his increased weight came at a cost in regards to his speed. His right foot had naturally led due to the nature of the assault, and as the point sank back over his left shoulder he held the crook of the cane forward and kept closing distance with his foe. Ogelsby was understandably rocked by the assault, no pun intended, and John was one who understood how important pressure could be in winning a fight quick and getting away from the bottles. Seeing him desperately defend his face with the guard of his weapon, the British brawler decided brute force was the order of the day. With particular ease he thrust the crook of the cane forward at his enemy’s nose, mindless of the metal in his weapon’s path. If Ogelsby didn’t high-tail it away while he had the chance the cane would slam into his guard and probably ram it into his face. John wouldn’t stop either, he’d keep doing it for as long as Ogelsby was in range and tried to defend himself with his sabre’s guard alone. As long as John was up close (within a couple feet or so at any rate) he felt safe, assured that for once he was a physical match for his unlucky opponent.

Spooky Mittens Wrote:

> Slight inconsistency in my last post, I evidently meant for John to throw a right upper-cut but I said that the point of the weapon went up and right, when I meant up and left. Do you mind if I edit it? I'll accept the mistake otherwise, it essentially means John's arms will be crossed.

Where do you think you’re going?

John kept coming after his first strike was parried, though even that had surprised him. The weight of his weapon was nothing to scoff at, and with both hands and his supernatural strength brought to bear for his opponent to casually bat it away with a single hand was a little galling. Still, he’d show the little bastard it wouldn’t be that easy to get away from him. His weight was rapidly decreasing as he released his concentration on the stone within his body and focused on his attack, keeping within Ogelsby’s sabre arc, not that he could really afford to go swinging around the weapon that was keeping him from getting brained at that exact moment.

It would come down to who was quicker really, John speeding forward or Ogelsby backing up in retreat. His aim was pretty simple, reach the boy, clamp his leading foot down on the lad’s leading foot and hold him in place as he gave him another of those crook slams right into his face. Maybe two or three more if he stuck around for it, only alternating if the strike was launched at a downward angle or upward angle. If he could get one clean strike in there was a good chance the kid was going to sleep, considering the weight of his weapon, its hardness, and the fact that he had the strength of an above average grown man. Nothing special, no tricks beyond a nice little foot stomp, keep it classic. Brutal beat downs and whatnot.

Who said a proper scrap had to look good?

Spooky Mittens Wrote:

Scuppered again, it seemed like everyone in this damn tournament could stop him with one hand. With the casual air of youth, John cut his losses. He had no reason to suspect that Ogelsby couldn’t maintain that strength permanently and yank the weapon out of his hands, so utilizing his proximity to the crook he severed his ties, snapping the cane clean off at the base of the hook using his ability to destroy rock with vibrations. Not a moment too soon, either, as the boy whipped his sabre into play and threatened to run it along the length of the rock cane and chop his fingers off. John strafed leftward and tilted his weapon rightward at the same time as his torso, messily blocking the sabre’s blade with the space of cane between his two hands. He’d still have been in risk of having it slide down and cut off his fingers if he wasn’t careful though, which is why he was forced to continue the revolution and back off on his right foot, effectively half-circling Ogelsby and trying to clear enough space to bring the point of his cane between them. He’d released Ogelsby’s own foot in the process, so the boy may have attempted to pursue him once he worked out what had happened.

“’Ol on to da’ for me yeah?” John mocked, as usual, utilizing the goodly space between the tables in the labs as he backed up far enough to bring his point to bear against Ogelsby. He’d end up standing with his back about three feet from the nearest table, his left foot forward as well as that side of his body, with his right behind in a fairly standard spear position. His weapon was for all intents and purposes a spear now, made of rock and pretty short, but a spear none-the-less. It was unclear what Ogelsby would do with the lump of stone in his hands, but he would be wise not to trust it as it would soon begin vibrating after perhaps two seconds had passed, almost as if it wished to escape.

Spooky Mittens Wrote:

> Cane is about 3ft and a bit long now, though it's not really a cane any more.

Ogelsby made the right decision in discarding the rock, though as he threw it the hook of the cane pulled up at the last moment rather than hitting the ground. It then slowly ascended to six feet and hovered just off to John’s left, acting at his behest as he maintained his position with his spear presented.

“Scare ya? Dat’s a new’un for me, mos’ of’tha time I jus’ piss blokes off.” The Brit seemed genuinely surprised at his foe’s remarks. He wasn’t really that bad a person at heart, he could be cruel and mean, but he rarely took pleasure in scaring people. Especially people who he thought were his own age or younger, they tended to remind him how vulnerable he was at one point. It was adults he really had it in for, the types that arrested his type and strung them up. Still, he’d entered this competition (or been forced to, really) to fight people regardless of if he wanted to or not. The kid hadn’t shied away from trying to cut his fingers off, he used a sword like he’d been trained to do so. Could be an act, could be he was a bit of a wuss, but despite all that he would have happily taken away John’s livelihood with a sweep of his blade. So he had to go down, sorry about that.

Ogelsby had darted between two tables in an effort to gain distance on John, he’d have seen the rock hook floating next to him, so he’d have a good idea what was likely to come next. John tracked his position with his eyes, waiting for an ideal moment to strike.

Spooky Mittens Wrote:

> Wrote the wrong name again, I think Ogelsby's name just fascinates me for some reason.

John just laughed, taking no action as Ogelsby up-ended a table and offered him a job. He’d not had a proper job his entire life, albeit he’d only lived a short while.

“’Ow’s the dough?” He asked the little orange swordsman, before advancing cautiously towards the table, the hook darting far to his left-hand side and hovering there, following his progress. The main thing John was doing was listening as he approached, trying to work out if the boy was using the table as cover and running away, or if he was hunkered behind it. In the relative quiet of the laboratory it wouldn’t be easy to sneak off quickly, and John still had one trump card to that effect. He followed his nose, acute as a hound, he could literally smell Ogelsby’s mixture of fear and adrenaline, and from it tell roughly where the source lay.

John’s actions would be dictated by where he guessed Ogelsby’s relative position to be from these sensory clues. If he were behind the table, he’d approach to within the height of the table in distance, hoping Ogelsby wasn’t strong enough to simply throw the entire thing at him. This would allow him to then shoot the hook around the boy’s cover at high speed, the projectile flying at a cool seventy miles per hour and sweeping around to clear out the area roughly behind the table. John was firing blind, so he went for the mid-section. His only saving grace was that Ogelsby had presumably blinded himself, so the first he’d know of the threat would be the sound of rushing air followed swiftly by the hook rounding the table edge and flying toward him.

If Ogelsby had legged it then he’d round the table and launch the hook straight at him, low so as to cut through the beakers and glass-ware on the tables surrounding him before it would strike around his mid-section.

Spooky Mittens Wrote:

> If you want to know all the boring statistics for the hook throw, PM me.

Ironically, John too was ready with a projectile. His attack had been an attempt at flushing his foe out from behind the table, or forcing him to knock it down which was a pretty standard tactic in the meatier bar brawls. Upon launching the hook he’d assumed an overhand spear position, without the hook his cane was particularly aerodynamic for a three foot lump of granite with a spike on the end. Point being, as what he had semi-expected happened and Ogelsby dropped the table, John had readied to throw his weapon. The moment it hit the deck he threw, the weighty rock flying at speed towards Ogelsby. It was too heavy for him to telekinetically accelerate it to the same speed as his ordinary thrown rocks, but he still provided it some extra force, enough so that it was not dissimilar in speed to a thrown javelin. Impressive, considering its mass.

Unfortunately, throwing a spear does not put on in a good position to defend one’s self from projectiles thrown in counter. Even as his own weapon left his hand he saw the incoming danger, and reflexively tried to block it with his extended hand, only serving to deflect the spinning end of the chair-leg first into his chin and then his body, where he took a step back and yelped in surprise. It was like taking a fairly decent punch to the jaw, not something he was unfamiliar with, but his rock-like skin protected him from suffering more than a cut and what would soon be a bruise.

“You jus’ throw a fuckin’ chair leg a’ me?” John asked in surprise, not expecting the dirty trick from the clean-cut fencer who was in the process of offering him employment.

Course, John might not have anyone conscious to talk to, as despite the counter his own throw had been dead on target, though even as he thought about that he realised he might have made a mistake. The spear could easily pierce the man’s chest and rupture his left lung or even perforate his heart, which might have been breaking the rules. He guessed it depended how quick the medics arrived.

Spooky Mittens Wrote:

It was only as his javelin went clean through the boy that John remembered he wasn’t supposed to be killing people in this tournament.

“Oh fu-“ He sprinted forward, left hand delving into his pocket for rock and grinding it into earth as the boy wheezed. “Ge’ some healers, midge’!” He shouted to the ever-present magical metal boxes, as he reached the boy and tried to contain his panic. John didn’t really want to kill anyone, especially this boy who’d hardly done him any wrong. He knelt beside him with a fist-full of rock. It wasn’t really something he could patch up, looking at the hole and the sound of breathing the guy was probably suffocating on his own blood.

He pressed down on the wound and allowed earth to seep into it, using his magic in a fashion it was rarely utilized in to seal the holes in Ogelsby’s lung, forming a temporary seal with rock. Without really realising it, he’d actually mimicked the sealing foam used in real perforations of lungs, though he lacked the medical know-how to pierce Ogelsby’s chest to release trapped gas. Ogelsby would suffocate in the next few minutes if medics didn’t arrive.

But arrive they did, and John was spared a white-flag for clear-cut murdering his foe with an overly zealous spear-throw. It wasn’t the best way to win a fight in a non-lethal tournament, but shit happens.

“Sorry ma’e.”

Spooky Mittens Wrote: