Ethan vs Rage

Stage 0: Firebrand and Grill

Everyone knows the Firebrand! After it's most recent resurgence after burning down again (...again), the Firebrand has come back better and stronger than ever. Made using the finest in craftsdrawfship and the hardest stone known the man (rumored to have a rubber core), it's become a popular tourist destination as well as a well-loved home for wayward ronin and adventurers. Recently, the staff has installed a large grill that... wait.

Do you smell gas?

General - Your typical bar, complete with wooden floors and stone walls. There's a bar area off to the side, and the larger part of the first floor is littered with chairs and tables. For some reason, there's a chandelier hanging from the rafters, both of which look incredibly suspicious for a two-story building. Coincidentally the second floor is blocked off for security reasons. Wait. Do you smell gas?

Due to Watts plugging a few too many electric grills and heaters into one socket next to a large pile of oily rags and tanks of gasoline, the Firebrand comes pre-installed with FIRE. Fire everywhere, and it's spreading at an unusually rapid rate, possibly due to that nasty gas and grease spill the other day. Due to the stone walls, you'll have some time to ******** one another up in this instant classic.

Natural Element Resource - ... Fire.... Fire. FIRE

Weapons - Tables, chairs, bottles of alcohol, and the occasional dwarfen worker.

Bonus Effects - Fire, fire everywhere. The Firebrand will only catch on fire after you've actually started fighting though.

"Goddammit, this is some serious bullshit."

First of all, Ethan had been whisked away from the loving company of his teammates to partake in some sort of preliminary matchup against an opponent whose only designation was a question mark. Second, not only did he have to fight some sort of masked-marauder type b*****d, but Ethan also had the misfortune of being assigned one of the most hostile fighting arenas he had ever seen in his entire life. Every step he took seemed to be accompanied by the smell of gasoline and ether, which only further confirmed his previous assessment that this assignment was, and will forever be known as, "bullshit".

He wasn't pleased at all with the accommodations, but that didn't mean he was going to puss out of things entirely. Ethan dropped his briefcase on a table and gazed across the room just as soon as a cloaked figure hurdled the bar and went scrounging around for a drink. Now Ethan was pretty suspicious of this entire tournament, so the obvious "opponent looking for a drink" situation was actually lost on the mecha pilot and instead replaced with the "hideous transformation" scenario.

Ethan himself wasn't an extremely imposing figure, standing just over six feet in height and having a fairly average build for a man who was technically a professional fighter. His black hair was cropped fairly short, just barely long enough for any sort of bangs to be noticeable. His face was decorated with about a day's worth of stubble, though that didn't serve to hide his narrow chin very well.

He was decked out in a rather beat-up business suit, and although his white shirt was wrinkled and unbuttoned in several places his tie wasn't loosened at all. His black pants were in a similar state of dishevelment, wrinkled beyond belief and stained below the knee with what appeared to be mud.

As Ethan stared at the bar, waiting for some hideous abomination to reveal itself and set the entire place on fire, he casually undid the buttons on his cuffs, taking the time to properly discard his suit coat and roll up his sleeves in preparation for the a** kicking.

"Yo! Let's get this over with. I don't want my pizza to make it to the hotel room before I do."

Ethan couldn't help but smile at his recognition. The MFL was, no doubt, one of Gaia's bigger draws, but it paled in comparison to the yearly event that was Heaven or Hell. Even if Ethan didn't want to admit it, he'd spent a fair amount of time watching previous tournaments. Of course, if he was ever caught spectating he was practically required to make a snarky comment about the fighters' lack of skill.

"Well hey, I'll always make time for my fans. Once I'm done here I'll hook your little bro up just fine. How about you? Want me to sign one of your casts once you check out of ER?"

Of course, Ethan's face took a decidedly less cocky appearance when Rage snapped his fingers and the entire goddamn bar set itself on fire.

"Jesus!"

Ethan instinctively recoiled, taking a step back and checking to see if he himself had spontaneously burst into flames. A cursory inspection would reveal that he wasn't, though from the looks of things he was only one misstep away from being in a whole heap of trouble.

In Ethan's concern for his own safety he completely missed Rage's own surprise, and by the time he snapped his gaze back up he was greeted by the sight of his opponent sprinting across the floor, rapidly closing the distance between the two fighters without any sort of concern for his own safety.

"Let's see what you've got!"

Ethan cocked his right hand back and surged forward, not content with just waiting for his foe to strike and instead opting for a slightly more reckless approach.

LAST MINUTE MELEE

ETHAN GEISS VS RAGE

FURIOUS FIGHTING AT THE FLAMING FIREBRAND

LET'S ROCK!

Ethan didn't even bother to duck out of the way of the punch. Rage went high with his left, aiming to lay Ethan out with a straight to the nose. Ethan, meanwhile, resigned himself to the fact that he was going to get jacked in the face as long as he was able to get his own licks in.

Now, Ethan wasn't much taller than Rage, about three inches or so, but the slight edge in range allowed Ethan to begin throwing his punch just a little bit sooner. This was particularly a good thing for Ethan, because unlike Rage Ethan wasn't through a straight punch, he was coming in with a heavy right-handed hook aimed directly at Rage's left temple that, while definitely a heavy hitting punch, required a relatively large amount of distance to travel in comparison to his opponent's course of action.

What happened to Ethan's mug depended a little on what happened next. If the two punches landed simultaneously then at least a little sting would be taken out of the blow on both ends. Ethan would be unable to turn fully into his punch due to nearly having his nose broken, but the sudden impact to Rage's skull would also likely hinder the green-haired bar owner's own punch. Ethan's head would snap backwards, and before the mech pilot knew it, he was bleeding quite profusely from both nostrils.

If Rage slipped under Ethan's punch, well, Ethan would end up flat on his back bleeding out of his nose, being laughed at.

Oh the shame.

[1/10]

"Ff-"

Ethan's right hand came up and dabbed at the skin just below his nostrils, picking up a whole heap of blood in the process. The blood itself didn't really catch Ethan by surprise, the fact that his eyes naturally watered up a little bit, coupled with the incredible amount of stinging going on in and around his nose let him know that there was definitely going to be bleeding. What caught him off guard was just how much blood there was already.

"Guess I can start taking this seriously now."

Ethan shook his right hand out, sending droplets of blood flying off in random directions. He sniffed, gingerly touched the bridged of his nose with his left hand, then dropped his arms back to his side, content in his thought that Rage was at least in a similar state of disorientation, judging by his sudden reliance on improvised weaponry.

Ethan flashed a slight grin before he bolted forward, hoping to catch Rage off guard before he was able to bring that chair up and around for a heavy swing. About four steps was all that was required before Ethan judged that his forward momentum could take care of the rest. He planted his right foot, then jumped into the air, putting more effort into getting vertical than going forward.

And as Ethan's momentum carried him forward he pulled both of his knees in toward his chest prior to launching both legs straight outwards, aiming to plant the soles of his shoes straight into Rage's chest. Now, while this wasn't technically in the spirit of bar fighting, Ethan's drop kick probably packed enough force to send Rage tumbling backwards over a few stray chairs.

As for Ethan, whether he hit or missed he'd end up coming straight back to the ground. And, unfortunately for him, he would be unable to get his legs underneath him in time to stop his fall. And without properly turning his body, well, Ethan would just land straight on his tailbone. While the impact wouldn't break anything, the pain of the impact prevented Ethan from hopping straight up to his feet and capitalizing on any sort of advantage the dropkick might have caused.

"FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUCK!"

He would say, as he moved a hand to massage his busted a**.

[2]

"Special Delivery!"

What th-

"Shi-!"

Ethan barely had enough time to get his forerams up to protect his face from the incoming piece of furniture. His nose was already busted enough as it was, there was no need for his face to take any more punishment if it could have been avoided. So Ethan brought his forearms up and ducked his head down in preparation for the chair, but didn't even think about protecting his abdomen until it was too late.

"HOOOOOOOOOOORF!"

All of the air in Ethan's lungs was forcefully expelled from his mouth as Rage's weight landed square on the poor mech fighter's diaphragm. And if that wasn't bad enough, Ethan still had to deal with the sudden impact of a still very solid chair being smashed against his upper body. It was fortunate that Ethan was still able to keep his arms up, but that didn't just mean things wouldn't hurt or the rest of his body would be spared. His forearms flared bright red almost immediately upon impact before they were forced against the top of his head. Only when his arms had no place to go did they exert enough force against the still-incoming chair to cause it to shatter, sending splinters and sharp edges flying all over the place. Ethan's bell was rung at this point, his arms hurt, his nose was still broken, he was flat on his back, and he was surrounded by fire. Hardly an ideal situation for any fighter.

Ethan shook his head, doing his best to clear the cobwebs before Rage could just collapse his knees and assume a mount. As his vision began to clear he balled his right hand into a fist, pulling upon his inner spiritual reserves and concentrating that energy into his right hand. His left, meanwhile, shot forward, aiming to grab his opponent by the collar of his shirt and pull him down to Ethan's level. Assuming he was either A) able to successfully grab Rage or B) still able to use his right arm if Rage avoided the grab, Ethan would sit up as he pulled down, coming in with another heavy right hook, this time trying to sock Rage square on the jaw.

"HYAAAAAAAAAAH!"

This time, however, Ethan's right hand discharged enough spiritual energy to effectively double the force of impact Rage would feel. Now, even with this technique Ethan wasn't strong enough to send a fully grown man flying across the bar. At most Rage would probably roll a few feet if he was truly caught off guard by the punch.

Still, a few feet would be a welcome relief for Ethan, who immediately after throwing the punch rolled to his right and started coughing, doing his best to catch his breath amidst all of the building smoke. It obviously wasn't proving too successful, since even as he slowly crawled to his knees he was still coughing like he had emphysema or something.

[3/10]

Detonate: Used once

Ethan wasn't in a good way by the time Rage had recovered his footing. He was still on his knees, left hand crossed over his chest as he finally found himself able to take in a deep breath without coughing up a lung. His head was still fuzzy, as if every little movement, whether his own or Rage's, was extremely exaggerated. It wasn't a good feeling at all, and in fact it made him a little nauseous.

By the time Ethan started getting his feet under him he finally decided to check and see how Rage was dealing with the aftereffects of that punch. Ethan was, perhaps, a little overconfident thinking that his use of Detonate was going to be a one hit knockout. But even so, there was no way he could have predicted Rage recovering so quickly. This wasn't really a surprising fact. A rookie in the Heaven or Hell ranks, there was no way that Ethan could have known of the resolve that these fighters possessed.

What th- Did his arm just catch on fire?

Ethan would have grinned, taking note of the concentration, however slight, that was present on his opponent's face. Whether Rage knew it or not, Ethan was watching his opponent's technique with great interest. It was a little known fact that Ethan had the innate ability to mimic others, the only problem was that it required one simple little thing.

Wait a sec. No.

It was at this point that Ethan realized he wasn't in the right state of mind for this sort of thing. Gaining new abilities was always a plus, however it definitely wasn't like him to take a beating. To hell with this, all he had to do was get the hell out of the way, take advantage of his opponent's momentum. All he had to do was stand u--

Wait, why wasn't he moving?

Ethan might have been in good shape, but the fire burning up all of the oxygen in the building was compounding the fact he had just lost his breath not more than twenty seconds ago. He was still a little sluggish, and a result of that was his legs refused to do what he wanted them to.

No no no.

Ethan's eyes widened slightly, and the sudden adrenaline dump finally got his legs to move. Ethan tucked his feet underneath him and rose to a standing position just as soon as Rage was a half step away. Ethan's eyes tracked that one cocked back fist the entire way. There was no hope of dodging now.

Nononononononono

"HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG!"

Ethan attempted to throw himself backwards, but only succeeded in getting his jaw out of the way of the attack. An unfortunate side effect was that he basically threw his chest directly in the path of the flaming, flying uppercut.

On the plus side, Ethan was "talented" enough that he didn't really need to focus much of his attention on the attack that was currently threatening to crack at least three of his ribs. On the other hand, Ethan had, for the second time, just been on the receiving end of an incredible amount of force to his chest, once again leaving him breathless. At least in this case Ethan had somewhere to go, as he was launched up and backwards. His landing was equally disappointing, as he ended up crashing through a table not more than five feet away.

Ethan was wheezing at this point, left hand splayed out over his chest and eyes directed skyward. He was still conscious, he was just in a whole world of hurt and needed some time to gather himself. It was doubtful that Rage would be so kind, but hey, a guy had to take some time to process some new information. Like how he could potentially use this crazy uppercut thing to his own advantage in the future.

Ability Gained! - Shoryuken.

[4/10]

Detonate: Used once

"The hell?!"

Ethan wasn't really paying much attention to Rage. He lifted his head once to see that Rage's own advance was slowed slightly, but he must have blacked out any and all banter in between the time he lifted his head and when he felt Rage grab ahold of his leg. Now, any number of things could have happened at this point, none of which were particularly good, so as Ethan was being grabbed he did the only thing that really seemed natural. He grabbed for something, anything, that could help his situation.

What he found was a piece of wood that broken off from the table he had just finished crashing through, and as Rage started swinging Ethan around, Ethan was just barely able to snag ahold of that sharp piece of lumber. Ethan rolled onto his belly at one point as a result of the uneven surface, somehow managed to get his left foot underneath him at one point, then immediately lost it and flopped onto his back once more. Now he wasn't really sure what Rage was trying to do, but it sure as hell was annoying switching from being dragged across the ground while constantly alternating between his back and stomach.

"Goddammit--CUT IT OUT!"

Ethan was a pretty flexible guy, so the moment he rolled back onto his back (after having smacked his face against the side of the same table twice now), he suddenly lunged upwards, utilizing every ounce of strength in his abdominals to pull off one of the most strenuous situps in history. As he did so he shot out with his right arm, aiming to impale either one or both of Rage's arms. Ethan only had enough to actually get one good stab in, and his abs immediately gave out after the incredible reach they offered, so whether or not he was successful in stopping the spin Ethan would end up sprawling out on his back.

But hey, if Rage let go at least this time he'd be capable of scrambling to his feet.

[5/10]

Detonate: Used once

Ethan rolled onto his stomach and practically bolted to his feet the moment his foot was released, no longer content on just laying on the ground and waiting for Rage to hit him with a chair, or a table, or a flaming uppercut. Point is, s**t was starting to get old and Ethan really didn't want to take any more of that abuse for a little while.

As he spun around, now separated from Rage by roughly ten feet, he took a moment to hunch over and take a much-needed deep breath. Though it was probably obvious to Rage at this point, Ethan was still hurting in spite of the fact that he was able to get back to his feet. He was particularly favoring the ribs on his left side, judging by the position of his left arm, which seemed to be cradling that side of his body more than resting on it.

"Heh. Good?! I made the finals three years running!"

Nevermind that he didn't win. The important thing was that Ethan was consistently great at piloting that giant hunk of metal. The other important thing was that Ethan was arrogant enough that the word "good" was somehow an insult to him.

"But I think I could get used to this stuff, too. If everybody else is as crazy as you!"

Ethan took off again, this time asserting himself as the offensive fighter. This time he brought his left hand back, and when he got in range, unleashed a short uppercut, aiming to strike Rage just beneath his own ribs. The punch itself wasn't delivered nearly with the force he had thrown his previous punches, but it didn't take a super strong hit to push the air out of somebody's lungs.

And as he threw that left hand his right hand came up near his head, protecting his face while at the same time being prepped for a follow-up punch. In spite of fatigue, every fighter had enough adrenaline to close out a fight unless he was knocked out.

For Ethan, this was a litmus test to see if he was ready for what these Heaven or Hell fighters had to offer.

"Bring it!"

[6/10]

Detonate: Used once

"Hnf!"

Ethan was ready to snap his right arm forward for a quick shot at Rage's face, but his plan for a quick combination was foiled by the fact that Rage was prepared with a counterattack of his own. Ethan saw both hands go up but, being unable to get out of the way, he simply leaned forward into the punch and ducked his head, causing Rage's attack to miss its intended target and instead hit Ethan between his shoulder blades. The shock of it was enough to cause Ethan to lose his balance, dropping him down to a single knee before he was grabbed by his neck and (in this case, pulled up), for a headbutt.

Ethan's eyes widened and his head recoiled slightly from the shock, but he refused to stumble back in spite of the cobwebs. He had just enough coherence to realize he was in a fight, and he was in close with a guy who was smaller than him. Ethan instead took advantage of the fact that both of his arms were inside of Rage's and slipped his right arm underneath Rage's left at the armpit. His left hand moved to secure Rage's left elbow, and Ethan took a quick turn to his own left, bucking his right hip into Rage's to knock him off balance before employing one of the ugliest-looking judo throws in the history of mankind. Assuming he caught Rage off guard, Ethan would be throwing the green-haired fighter over Ethan's right shoulder and straight on top of a nearby table.

[7/10]

Detonate: Used once

"Heh."

Ethan's tongue darted out, licking his upper lip and cleaning up some of the blood that was sitting there. Of course, Ethan wasn't one of those freaks that enjoyed the taste of his own blood (or anybody's blood for that matter), so he immediately turned his head and spat the copper taste out of his mouth. The fight was drawing to a close, as was the structural integrity of the entire bar. Even amidst the raging inferno Ethan could hear the sound of critical structural supports creaking. Still, his normal overwhelming desire for self-preservation seemed to take a back seat for the time being. What stood in its place was something far more primal, far more noble than selfish desires. The desire to push himself to the limit, a feeling he hadn't experienced outside of a protective robot shell since his earliest days at the academy. This was what being alive was all about.

Might as well go out...

Ethan couldn't help but smirk as Rage's arm and hands were surrounded by flames. It was tricky to use an ability so quickly after learning its basics, but sometimes a person had to learn how to run before they could walk. His right hand shot out, palm wide open, and the same flames that circled Rage's arms did the same to Ethan's right arm only. It appeared that Ethan was only capable of mustering half of the amount of fire but, considering it was an ability he had learned not more than five minutes ago while simultaneously getting his a** beat, ANY sort of control over the ability would have been impressive. There was an important distinction to be made though. While Rage's flames appeared to be made out of actual fire, Ethan's appeared to be more spiritual in nature, taking on the rough shape of flames but having an ethereal texture to them. They also looked blue, so you knew they were spiritual flames.

...with a bang.

As Ethan stepped forward into a run, the portion of the ceiling holding the chandelier above him finally collapsed. Were his charge started a few seconds later Ethan probably would have been crushed underneath the pile of flaming lumber and shattered glass, but as luck would have it the very moment that Ethan cleared the area, the entire half of the bar behind him collapsed into flames.

No way out but forward.

No way out but through his opponent.

No.

Way.

Out.

"SURRIYAH!"

Ethan would stop when either his opponent met him halfway or he was within arm's reach. Whatever the case, there was nothing fancy about Ethan's final swing. There was no Detonation at the end of the punch, no ultimate combo to follow up when or if his punch landed, just an arm surrounded by fire delivering a mean-a** looking haymaker that would knock a bull unconscious. And that fist was on a collision course with the left side of Rage's face.

[8/10]