[3rd] Main Bracket: Katsu vs. Deitric

Winter Arena

Description: As one walks in, they will see that the arena is now a lot smaller than the previous one, seeming to be starting some type of pattern. Now, the fighting area is only 100 yards in diameter, the ground covered in two inches of snow over soiled ground underneath, and the temperatures being a cold 20 degrees Fahrenheit, despite the ceiling being open with the sun shining down. However, there is no sign of a designated platform, meaning the entire area is pretty much game. 25 yards from the stands each are 10 feet blocks of ice, designated at each corner of the arena, blocky with no definite shape, yet can be stood upon with the right footing. The blocks are so thick, however, that breaking them is not something of ease, or melting them. In the middle, with a diameter of 30 yards is a sitting pool of water iced over with a nice firm sheet of ice, the water underneath being 10 feet deep. However, if it takes too much stress, the ice can easily break.

Ten Count Boundary: The ten count starts as soon as someone goes over the twenty foot wall into the stands, or into the pool of water. If a person is already in a counted area and the other fighter enters in, the count is reset. If a person is being forced to stay in a counted area against their own will, for example, by being binded by an indirect attack (such as vines, tendrils, etc.), then the count stops. However, the count continues if a person is using their own body to keep the other fighter down AND have no part of their body inside the fighting zone (as well as being at least five yards away from the fighting zone). In this case, the count is being counted against both members.

Edited.

*Pre-match, Hotel Room.*

"wear something warm"

The GTB marked letter had said. Well it obviously wasn't trying to hide what the theme for the next bracket would be. Katsu didn't particularly like the cold, but then, it wasn't unbearable either.

Yawning slightly, Katsu sat up from his bed and walked over to the horribly ornate wardrobe standing upright near the door. A loud creak resonated from the heavy wardrobe door as Katsu looked inside. A suit, training clothes, fighting shorts and wraps. He hadn't expected to be fighting in a arctic arena, so hadn't really packed for the occasion. A little improvisation was needed.

He tossed down the cream dressing gown that he was currently sporting, leaving him in his black briefs. Stroking the cluster of hairs growing on his chin, Katsu eyed the collection of garments for a few moments.

"Hmm..I am going to look very, very stupid for this match."

He thought to himself. *And returning to current time.*

Katsu took a deep breath in before pushing open the wooden doors that were leading into the ice stage. He could already feel the cold air grasping at his feet from the small gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. As the door opened Katsu's pupil's dilated from the sudden burst of light. He hadn't expected the sunlight to be beaming down from above, they must have had some in-house cooling system to have this place feel so cold, yet have the sunlight coming in too. Maybe it was to keep the fan's warm.

A consistent frequency of cheers would suddenly come to a halt as Katsu stepped out onto the snowy floor. It crunched beneath his smart dress shoes, a embarrassingly loud crunch now that the cheering had died down.

There he was, in the third round of the tournament, dressed in a full suit. The one he had arrived in actually. His hands and feet were wrapped with his usual bandages, and his hair was held back by the same white cotton bandanna from his previous two fights. He looked pretty ridiculous. "Ah man.."

He muttered whilst his cheeks filled with blood, making his face turn a bright red. He pushed through the embarrassment, however, to take in the arena around him. It was noticeably smaller than the last two arena's, which would probably be a bonus for him. In the middle he could see a circuler area where the snow didn't seem as thick, just a few speckles of white on a grey-ish looking floor. Maybe it was concrete? perhaps ice? he wouldn't know until he got a chance to get closer.

Breathing a frosty breath of hot air, he dropped his hands into his pocket and buried his chin into the collar of his suit jacket. It was fucking cold.

Suddenly a hulk of a man jumped down onto the arena infront of him. He raised his hands in a victorious stance and the crowd went wild. So this was his opponent huh? well, it was time to do this. The third round of the GTB had arrived.

Getting a better look at the man, Katsu realized he was only a few inches taller than himself. Though he did look quite a bit heavier.

"Yeah, let's."

Katsu replied. He tightened the white headband around his forehead, and brought his arms up infront of his face in a typical Muay Thai fighting stance. His feet were spaced apart and slightly bent at the knee's to give him more balance as he stared across the ring at his opponent, meeting his gaze directly.

As the thick cuffs of the suit jacket pulled back from the creasing at the elbow, Katsu's fists became more visible. The sunlight would catch a glimpse off of the metallic band along Katsu's knuckles. His knuckle dusters once again making an appearance.

For now he simply stood there, keeping a keen gaze on his foe, whilst steadily becoming accustomed to the cold air around him, and adjusting his breathing accordingly.

Katsu kept a stoney gaze as his opponent began to gallop towards him. A slight shift in body weight would be noticeable as Katsu dug his feet into the ground. His shoes barely offering any traction, being designed for hard floors and concrete more than snow.

He would open his balled fists into a more grappling "claw" like position, and brace himself for some sort of impact, lowering his chin and bending his legs more to bring himself closer to the floor.

As Katsu had been keeping a very close eye on Deitric as he had advanced, he noticed the change in body language as he went to shoulder barge him. In response to this Katsu decided to launch his own charge, he could probably get a decent hit in if he took his opponent by surprise. He launched from his crouched down position with his head low and his arms pumping at either side of his torso in a half speed run.

Suddenly Deitric stopped and reached for something.

"..?!"

Katsu saw a gleam of metal launch from the red skinned hands of his foe, with the trajectory of the object seeming pretty low based upon the arm movement. Katsu thought it best to jump, seeing as he was already running it wouldn't be hard to get enough force to clear the projectile. Mid-run he bent his knee's and flung himself into the air, as his legs pulled up he felt a burst of air dash underneath him, that must've been the weapon.

He landed from the jump about two feet away from Deitric, a bit close for comfort some may say. Being this close to a (probably) armed foe was a bit dangerous, so, as soon as his feet touched the floor, he let the weight from the rest of his body landing from the jump add to the fluid motion of crouching down to the floor. As he went down, he sent out a swift kick from his right foot. Cracking his leg forward from bent to straight in a matter of milliseconds, the withdrawal would be about the same speed. He had attempted to set it up so that the front of the ankle joint on his own leg would connect with the left side of Deitric's left ankle.

Such a kick meant it would be hard for Deitric to counter effectively, considering he was in a left forward stance. His right side would take too long to reach the outside of his left leg, and using the left side would probably take about the same amount of time, giving as it's awkward to turn your torso/hips before striking.

Such equation's were running about in Katsu's mind as he withdrew his kick, quickly raising his feet to balance on the front padding below the toe's. This would allow for a quick evasive maneuver should the response from his opponent call for one.

" OOF! "

Katsu's nose exploded with blood as Deitric's large knee struck him directly. Barely being able to bring back his leg from his own attack, he had stupidly been the victim of a counter knee strike. The thick red liquid oozed from his nose and mouth and leaked all over Deitric's knee, covering the man in Katsu's life blood.

Katsu moved with the knee a little, being lifted into the air for a second. Or he would've if it weren't for the man's hand firmly pushing his head harder against the oncoming knee. During this time he couldn't take his mind off of the fight, even if his face felt like it was being split open. He lodged one hand (right) underneath the man's thigh and the other against his stomach. (left)

As he was on his feet thanks to Deitric's own guidance, he kicked his left leg out and attempted to hook it round Deitric's ankle. (A reverse leg hook where the back of Katsu's shin would sweep Deitric's rear ankle.) Then using the fact that it was hard to balance on a single foot to his advantage, he let himself fall forward whilst pushing with all his might on Deitric's stomach, and simultaneously pushing the red-skin's thigh upwards.

If all went according to plan, Deitric would be sent, with a hard slam, onto his back.

As Deitric fell Katsu would instinctively move forward with the falling body, keeping his hands on Deitric's thigh and stomach respectively. When he finally did fall onto his back, Katsu was kneeling in-between Deitric's legs. But not for long.

Spitting blood as he moved, Katsu prepared to twist Deitric's left leg into a submission hold, but apparently Deitric had different idea's. Katsu's tight grip on his opponent's left thigh felt a sudden tensing of the leg muscle as if he was about to kick out. Sure enough the foe's knee unfurled and sent a steel capped strike towards Katsu's general face area.

Luckily with the grip on his opponents thigh, aswell as predictability in his favour, Katsu wasn't going to just sit there and get kicked. Using the hand he already had on Deitric's left thigh, he pushed the kicking leg outwards away from himself (to the left) whilst simultaneously using the force from the push to launch himself further up his opponent's body. Moving quickly to ensure he wouldn't get caught in some kind of leg vice, Katsu clambered over the fallen man to get himself positioned so that he was resting on Deitric's hip line.

Just before the movement was complete, the hand that had been resting on Deitric's stomach would retract a little, before being sent down again full brunt into the man's stomach. The brass knuckle dusters would increase the weight and therefore downwards momentum of the punch, making for quite the gut-buster.

"..!"

Katsu's fist would bounce off of some kind of hard, possibly metallic structure. Not as surprising as some may have thought given this man had already proven to be wearing some kind of armour from the previous attempted leg sweep.

The metal on metal caused Katsu's arm to "bounce" from Deitric's torso, causing the limb to retract more than planned into the air. Deitric's arm would reach out attempting to grab the limb, but the added weight from the knuckle dusters, and collision from the metal garb would cause it to bounce high enough for Katsu to be able to pull it back so that it was hovering parallel to the side of his head.

grunting a little out of frustration, Katsu struck the rebounded arm out hard, aiming towards the outstretched palm of Deitric's, when suddenly. BZZZTT

"Ahhh!"

A jolt of electric surging through the red-skin's body hooked on to Katsu and sent jolts of pain surging through his legs. Luckily electricity always tried to find the quickest way back to the earth, so they wouldn't linger around in his body too much, quickly escaping back to their master's form and eventually into the ground. Still, the sudden jolt of pain and shock in Katsu's legs caused him to literally jump up from the mount position, and, launching himself using his powerful leg's he would travel backwards through the air about three feet away from Deitric. Landing on both feet, and both of his arms flayed out infront of him, palms resting against the cold, snowy floor, to balance his wobbly form.

"S-shit."

He hissed through blood soaked teeth. His gaze staying locked on his "electrifying" opponent.

//It's quite late, so if my post isn't specific enough or makes you WTF. Hit me up with a PM.

"Grrr."

Katsu thumbed his slightly aching nose and stood up straight. "That ain't nothin'"

He laughed to his opponent. What was with men acting tough when they were obviously in pain? Katsu'd be damned if he knew, but it seemed like the right thing to say at the time.

Keeping an eye on his foe to watch for any sudden movements, Katsu swiftly unclipped his right knuckle duster, and gripped it in his palm. Then, with his left hand he ripped the headband from his head. He tied the white and red headband around the end of the metal knuckle duster and grinned.

He slowly began walking towards Deitric whilst beginning to spin the cloth around by moving his right wrist in a circular motion. The knuckle duster pulled the cloth round and added a great amount of momentum. This essentially turned the bizarre mixture of items into a makeshift flail.

The hand spinning the "flail" was held down to the side, whilst his left, still armed, hand was held out across his slightly right facing torso. He would move towards his opponent slowly, his left foot edging forwards, followed slowly but surely by his right.

"Come on D, you red-blooded bastard. Show him what your Khasmin ass can do!" rang out a familar voice from the crowd.

James had taken today off to go see for himself the competition at GTB2. Always watch others was part of his training routine, so he could study the better fighters and learn from them. Just so happened that a few people he knew were here at GTB.

Deitric watched carefully, keeping his weapons at the ready. He didn't look too perturbed. Actually, he didn't even look remotely disturbed - outside of a slight, crooked grin, his face retained the common stoicism that he had shown throughout most of his time in the limelight.

When the whirling weapon swung in, the tribesman moved quickly, keeping his movements small and efficient. He stepped back quickly, his left tomahawk flashing out, aiming as if he were going to block the oncoming attack.

Ssnk--

Perhaps by miscalculation, but more likely by purposeful intent, Deitric didn't block the metal projectile-- no, he aimed a little more forward, the head of his tomahawk slicing through the headband with the razor edge of the axehead. It might've been a nominally chopping weapon, but swing it at something like a taut cloth, and it'd cut through with plenty of ease.

His reaction was almost instinctual - something comes near, the tomahawk picks it off. It was ingrained in the warrior's psyche as much as any other fighting motion could be, he'd been using tomahawks for as long as he could remember.

In all likelihood, the duster would go flying off through the air between them, skidding across the ground elsewhere in the arena, most certainly out of reach. Deitric continued to back up, the tomahawk in his right hand still primed and ready - he didn't look the least bit concerned.

The fighter's triumph was short lived as his tomahawk looked to make contact with the oncoming attack. He'd managed to slice through the cloth of the headband, severing the metal weight from its owner and leaving him with one less tool. Deitric had continued his backpedaling to try and put distance between them out of simple, good caution. When the kick came in, he reacted-- not so much as a fighter, but simple animal instinct to not get hurt.

He raised his leg up in a high-step as best he could while backpedaling, the kick slamming home just beneath his knee into the top portion of his shinguard. It forced his own leg to straighten slightly as his opponent's foot would either continue on, or retract.

Deitric would do his best to hop back, using his long leggedness to his advantage in putting distance between them. His right-hand tomahawk was still ready, even as he brought his foot back down to get himself back into stance. His armor had again managed to take the brunt of the hit, but his opponent's kick had slipped over the armor and still hit his leg, leaving a throbbing pain running up and down the length of the joint and the entire lower leg.

In the whirlwind of his mind's flash-instinct impulses, he was ready to react, but if he was 'safe', he'd be bringing his leg back down to return to his stance, albeit with a fair bit of pain coursing through his leg.

"Hrgk!"

Deitric's balance was failing him faster than he'd like to admit - even if he was getting his foot back on the ground, he was still off-center. His natural wariness paid off though-- at least, it did when combined with his currently awkward position. His continual back pedaling meant one thing - the distance between he and Katsu was constantly growing.

His opponent's entire position was changing; and the tribesman didn't need to be any sort of martial artist to figure out what that meant. He was still backpedaling when the blow came, but he wasn't quite out of range, even while leaning back. Then again, he wasn't quite in range, either - in the odd, exact position where the punch could strike or it could miss either way. He did, however, have something that was going to make his opponent regret throwing the punch.

The tomahawk in his right hand, held ready to strike, even if it was just a flail of his arm. Luckily, Deitric had enough training to do something more than just throwing his arms about. The punch tore through the air between them, aiming to smash into the fighter's throat. He did the first thing that came to mind - an attack comes, pick it off with the tomahawk. His right tomahawk slashed through the air in a blur of shining metal at the oncoming attack. It wasn't the cleanest strike, and it wasn't the strongest. But then again, when it came to handaxes, simple arm strength was more than enough to power a blow.

Thud--

Deitric wasn't aiming much at all, but his tomahawk wouldn't hit the knuckle duster. If his opponent's haymaker arm was still coming on like a freight train, the tomahawk would bite deep into the self-same arm, just at the inner joint of the elbow. As he continued his backward movement and tried to complete the arc of his blow, the tomahawk would most likely cut its way from elbow to wrist on a long, uneven gouge that would have easily been bone-deep. If anything, that was enough to not only throw the punch off, but most likely halt his opponent's movements in any sort of follow-up.

His axe didn't touch the man's hand though. The slash would have abruptly stopped around the wrist or so as the his balance gave out from his fervent backpedaling, sending him tumbling onto his back and into a roll, coming up in a snowy kneel, his hair and clothes speckled with the white fluff. He held his tomahawks up and just a little ways from his body, still ready.

Luckily for Deitric, he'd been hotstepping to put distance between them-- when the second attack came, he was already too far away. A split second backwards tumble, and the warrior was back on his feet. He kept his tomahawks ready for a second, but an attack wasn't likely, even while he was rolling - the distance between them had grown quite a bit.

"Hm..," the fighter made an odd, thoughtful sound as he stood in place, breathing through his nose calmly, issuing twin jets of hot air that rose in the air like steam. He palmed his twin axes for a moment before sliding them into his belt. Letting his fingers curl, he made his hands into fists and raised them up, his left leading a little. Still unseen, the rising storm was roiling beneath him - waiting to be used.

Deitric just watched him for a moment he moved aside, clearly intent on letting him run towards the ice block. He seemed more curious about Katsu's intents than anything.

He quirked a brow and crouched down.

What was he doing?

Running his hands along the snowy ground (and notably, the ground beneath), the warrior quickly made himself a tightly packed ball of snow, and a fair share of hard rock and soil. Without hesitation, the warrior rose and hurled the little surprise as hard as he could, right for the back of Katsu's head.

That little present was going to hurt something fierce.

The warrior harrumphed, his opponent's antics eliciting a chuckle from the man's lips. He figured the old rock-in-the-snowball trick would have been worth a try. He only shrugged when the suited man made his disappearance behind the ice block, letting his feet carry him easily towards the block.

Combined with the loud crowd and Deitric's own experience as a hunter, not a single sound came from him. The ground beneath him wasn't the best, but he was used to loose soil of all sorts. He kept a low profile as he moved, almost moving on all fours at a speed belied by his height, tearing away the short distance. In the last ten feet or so, he broke his movements into a sprint, pulling his left fist back, as if he was going to punch the gigantic block of ice.

Maybe he was.

He'd rarely kept his ability under control and in focus for so long without release, in fact, he'd never pooled such a large amount of electricity without aid before. His power had been buzzing beneath the surface, fighting to escape his iron grasp, growing with each passing second that he'd been generating-- like adrenaline, the shocking power came naturally in times of combat and danger, and only training had allowed him to keep it under control long enough to pool it and give it a focus point.

And that focus point was his fist.

Cackling electricity swam around his fist, spinning and growing wildly, no longer kept pinned under Deitric's will. In the blink of an eye, the warrior was enveloped in a spiraling comet of lightning. He threw all his weight behind his left fist, sending it hurtling into the ice block with all the physical and electric power he could muster at that very moment - a lot, all considering. He was ablaze with power, and the block - and the man behind it - were about to suffer. A split second, and things were about to change.

THE MAELSTROM SPIRAL

Deitric's fist slammed home into the ice-block with an indescribable cacophony of sound, the first sound to come from the warrior - even his normal cackling aura hadn't seemed to create a sound amidst the roar of the crowd. For a moment, time seemed to slow down; cameras in the crowd zooming in to the scene at hand, catching the entire scene unfold.

SCREAM

Then time came back, and the cacophony seemed louder than ever as the ice block had actually given way to Deitric's attack. In fact, it had done more than that - his Maelstrom Spiral had smashed the ice block apart, fissures running through the slab of ice, the entire slab exploding outward from the force of the attack. Pieces went every which way, but by being the cause of the destruction, Deitric was mostly safe - a few bruises or nicks wouldn't bother him anyways.

AIM

The shining bullet of a warrior wasn't deterred though-- showering his opponent with chunks and pieces of ice of all sizes; Deitric continued on through the flurry of shattered ice, some chunks nearly as big as he was. His fist as still alight, and if his opponent was (hopefully) caught off surprise, the momentum of Deitric's Finisher would carry him on, slamming his fist home right into Katsu's face. His power had all for all intents and purposes, been depleted and he'd need time to let his generative abilities restart, but it'd be worth it - such a direct attack would be the last thing most opponents would have done.

FIRE

Deitric grinned amidst the ice as the area around him was alive with a flurry of ice. He still had one ace in his sleeve, and as soon as he didn't feel flesh, he triggered it.

The secondary portion of the Maelstrom Spiral, typically used to send his opponents flying away, if they weren't already.

WHUSH

The 'tail' of the human comment suddenly reversed, flowing over him before sending out a cyclone of force from his fist; which had previously been used to help propel him forward. Now, it had a new purpose. The sudden spiral of force rushing out from his fist in an "overblow" from his propulsion caught the nearby shards of ice and sent them hurling forward - right for Katsu. If the man were close enough, he might even be knocked off balance by the sudden force of the over-blow, combined with the pelting shards and chunks of ice being sent his way.

"Heh.."

The rest of the ice shrapnel had flown elsewhere, and paper-thin slivers fluttered in the air around him like snow, the immediate area around him caught in the flurry of the exploded ice; the death throes of his attack and the after effects. His hand was back down at his side now, the leather glove he wore shredded, small nicks and cuts covering his hand and wrist.

He felt the faint spark of his power inside - it needed time to rest and regenerate, but he wasn't in a hurry. He was confident, now. He raised his right hand to the crowd again as the lightest of the debris finally settled, leaving Deitric surrounded by shattered ice and gravel - all the actual snow had been blown away in the first few feet around his person.

For now, he only grinned, bringing his arm back down. He'd wait to see just how things went.

Deitric eyed the oncoming fighter calmly. He was breathing a little harder now - he'd been hoping to catch the man off guard enough to end the fight when he'd gone through the ice block, but luck hadn't been on his side. Steam was rising from his left fist still from the heat of the attack and the floating motes of ice left in the air.

Whoosh

In came the projectile, and and aside Deitric stepped. It spun past him, his eyes never leaving the opponent in front of him. His arms were bent at the elbows and slightly raised, ready to defend or attack - his movements were minimalist, simple.

[Short post. Crazy storm hit earlier.]

His body is flagging.. But his determination is still strong.

Deitric watched Katsu falter, and realized just how tired he was too. His left arm ached, burnt from the chill and his assault earlier. Pains were all over his body, but he wasn't in quite as bad a position as Katsu, thanks in part to the thick leather and denim he wore, and the armor beneath his jacket. The mixture of leather and metal that Nasrudin had made for him was truly a wonder - his strength allowed him to move so easily in the armor! If he won the tournament, he'd see to it that the architect was paid properly.

He didn't attack his opponent when the man seemed to seem a little weaker, the man's eyes casting to the timer. Deitric had too much respect for his opponent and for himself for that. He stayed in place as his opponent continued his approach. Katsu flung another ice shard at him, and this time Deitric did do something other than a minimal movement.

His right hand reached out, swiping out quickly with a straightening of his right arm at the elbow, smashing the ice shard away. It lowered quickly and off to the side, leaving a long, thin line of red gouged into his upper thigh. It hurt his hand a fair bit, but by now, the cold had probably numbed both of them in their extremities, so it probably didn't matter.

The arm stayed out, just in case - bent at the elbow again, ready to block or strike at any time.

When Katsu when up, Deitric watched his opponent move up into the air like a predator, his turquoise eyes kept on the man's airborne form. He put his weight forward slightly, bending his knees slightly as if ready to dodge at any moment.

The third shard came down--

And up Deitric went rather suddenly, pushing upwards with all the leg power he could muster. Katsu would have just started coming downward from the apex of his throw. The shard flew down in a blur, slicing down his shoulder and back - his shoulder suffered a sharp gash, but stuck on the armor and spun off elsewhere.

The warrior's right arm reached out, aiming to smash fore-arm to forearm with Katsu's arm and force both their arms wide as they continued on their mid-air collision course. Deitric's right arm was up now, bent and over his head. He'd torqued his body as he put the arm up, aiming to smash it into Katsu's body or head, while hopefully protecting the Khasmin man's own - it was in the position to block any downward strike from the knuckle duster. Sure, that'd hurt, but not as much as a knuckle duster to the head.

If they continued on, Deitric's left forearm (including the metal bracer beneath his sleeve) would hopefully find it's way into Katsu's face, or slam into his head. Their bodies' momentum would do the rest of the work from there, and hopefully the heavier Deitric would have something to show for it.

Deitric felt his opponent's hands wrap around his wrists when the met in mid-air. Being the heavier of the two, and with less momentum, the red-skinned warrior would be the first one to hit the ground, most likely landing on his back with Katsu on top.

But he had other plans.

The fighter grunted as they collided, feeling his upward motion ceases as they began their descent back towards the ground. He let gravity do its work, tilting them down slightly to bring them back down to earth wit hthe heaviest parts of their body hitting first - the shoulders. His opponent had his wrists - that was fine, he didn't care. In fact, it probably served his purpose.

Without hesitation, Deitric tucked his legs up, then sprung them outwards into Katsu's gut. Their proximity meant that it was likely to succeed - even though it might not do a huge amount of damage, it would force them to separate, forcing them both in different directions. The movement of his legs had been minimal - and probably hard if not impossible to see, due to their proximity and positioning.

If all went to plan, they'd be separated about half-way down, putting some space between the two fighters while they fell.

[Dunno if Katsu grabbed both wrists with both hands, or what. If not, I'd just assume that Deitric would use his free arm to guard his head and neck from Katsu's free hand.]

Deitric growled as he felt his arms pulled taut-- a soon as he pushed with his legs, he could see that Katsu wasn't willing to let go, at least not any time soon.

That suited the Khasmin tribesman fine.

In that split second that Katsu was upside down and Deitric had his back (with a tilt that favored his shoulders) to the ground, the fighter took his chance. His stressed arm burned in pain, but he didn't matter. Pain was weakness leaving the body. That's what someone said, wasn't it?

His free hand reached out like lightning, already out-stretched from their free fall, moving only a handful of inches through the air for something--

Katsu's hair. Assuming his fingers dug in good and well into the man's hair, Deitric would pull down hard on the man's mess of locks, twisting his body in the air while he pulled down with both his arms, most notably the arm that had gotten ahold of the man's hair. The arm Katsu' had a hold on would take an injury as well - the stress of pulling down on the man's weight as much as he could, even with the torque of his body and the use of his other arm, it had been a lot. Muscles were pressed to their limit, and when they rose, he might find it hurt a little too much to use his arm.

Why was he pulling so hard on Katsu's head of hair, though?

He was literally going to bring Katsu down crashing on his head-- albeit, Deitric's hand was going to be beneath it, he'd trade the use of a hand for his opponent's head smashing into the ground. By twisting his body and pulling both his arms down, he'd be putting them practically level in the air in the last fraction of time before they smashed into the earth-- Deitric side first, Katsu most likely headfirst, albeit wearing a bit of protection better known as the human dynamo's hand.

THUD--

--But what had happened, when the dust cleared?

[Well, we confused the shit out of each other amidst the fun xd . We're not asking for a judge, but it's close to the deadline and we've had an awesome fight, so I think we'll just leave it as is-- right near the deadline, in a "what if" situation. It's fine with both of us - no need for a judge to try and resolve anything, we're content to leave it as is for the judge's to review.

Awesome match and everything, and we'll let the judges see who goes on to the next round.]