HoH season 11. Source: valucre.net static Gaia dump.
Thu Feb 10, 2011 8:17 pm · id 296653071 · page 1
WHAM. WHAM. WHAM. A tall armored figure finishes pounding the last tack into the bulletin board to hold up the match postings; using a fist instead of a hammer. Among the other items posted on the board are couches for sale, lost dogs, and one instance of "have you seen my jar of leeches?".
The bulletin board is fixed onto the side of a hallway 7 feet wide with waxed linoleum floors and incandescent lighting. Windows? Windows are for outside.
General - A hallway much like you would find in any public school.
Natural Element Resource - Drywall and rusty water from a knee-high drinking fountain.
Weapons - An industrial-sized floor waxer against the wall near the end of the hallway, a wheeled rack full of steel folding chairs, and a janitor's closet conveniently located.
Bonus Effects - Don't forget your Hall Pass.
Thu Feb 10, 2011 8:29 pm · id 296654863 · page 1
BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.
Finally, school is out. Students raise from their desks and filter out into the halls, creating a torrent of human bodies flowing in one direction. Off to the sides of this river of sweat and perfume were slivers of open space. One such space happened to be in front of a large bulletin board. It was here that the first combatant to arrive now stood. The man's diminutive stature was pressed against the board, trying to put enough room between him and the flow of students so that he may be able to breathe.
The herd would thin momentarily. In the mean time, Henry checked his watch. He was on time. Actually, he was early. He should be here well after the students had departed on their buses and sport-utility vehicles and such. He would have taken this time to check his surroundings, but good luck getting any sort of info over the jocks that towered above him.
Being short sucks.
Henry sighed, and decided to just wait it out. See what happened. Hopefully the hall would clear before his opponent showed up. He'd need that time to find a weapon of some sort. If only.
1
Wed Feb 16, 2011 1:25 pm · id 297371347 · page 1
Terran Maxwell was several hours late. Or rather, it was several hours after his opponent had arrived. Terran wasn't late for s**t, but because he didn't know he'd be fighting someone new, he was late as hell. After a table clipped him in the head, Roen ran out of the GNR station crying, and Terran was treated to coffee and some air time to chat, get some sponsorship bucks for Corona Libere, and all that good stuff.
But when the FIGHTER flashed to go to Dur'em Middle, Terran booked and ran from the Barton station to a Transport Mage, who sent him to Dur'em. Terran hated Dur'em. The site of where he'd been killed the first time, and where his old days lied. But that was not a part of today. Today, he just had to run.
It got to be about Five O'Clock before he got into the school by flashing his FIGHTER to the principle, explaining that the dunce who was supposed to fight hours ago must have bailed like Roen did, and so he was gonna take his place. Reluctantly, the man allowed him entrance, and directed him down the hall. Terran knew the spot. Hell, fourty some years earlier, he'd gone to this very school.
"...I'm old." He muttered, turning a corner to see, down the hall, a short dude. But he wasn't a student. And there isn't anyone else in the building. "So you're the guy who got stood up? I\'m the replacement. My opponent bailed too."
Thu Feb 17, 2011 4:08 am · id 297467857 · page 1
'Bout ********' time.
"Yeah," he replied. That Jerich guy hadn't the common decency to show up to fight. Maybe he was scarred or something. Probably shouldn't even have signed up if he didn't have the balls to go through with it.
In the five hours he'd been waiting, Henry had plenty of time to do some.. looking around. Notably, he'd found a certain janitor's closet. From which he had procured one of those brooms with the wide head. He now held the handle of that broom, as he had no use for the head and had thusly kicked it off, leading one of the makeshift staff's ends broken. Henry held this weapon in his right hand, the non-broken end resting against his shoulder.
"So you're Terran?" Henry asked. Jerich had been replaced with that very name not too long ago. He had quickly surmised that Terran would be his opponent instead. Henry had hoped for someone a lot smaller and less demon-y than whom had showed up, but that was Gaia for you. He wasn't looking forward to this fight.
Thu Feb 17, 2011 6:35 am · id 297472273 · page 1
"I am indeed." Terran began to shake out his muscles once more. It was that same old song and dance. Prepare for combat. Get that body warmed up. Psych yourself up. Time for a fight. But from where he was standing, Terran noted the flash of concern. "Listen, Henry. I wouldn't worry too much, man." A loud, solid crack of the knuckles as the big beastly man rolled his fingers into a fist. "Hell, you already have a weapon and I haven't got one on me." He chuckled very briefly before tightening his features. "But really, it's late, and we need to start."
Terran hunkered down, getting into a somewhat animalistic stance, shoulders held low, fingers spread, claws extending from the tips of each like the sophisticated tiger from that old cartoon movie so many years ago. But what that tiger didn't have on Terran were the set of spires, red shafts of pointed bone, perhaps, that began to jut out of the Infernal's elbows, parallel to the lower half of the arm.
So he hadn't been entirely honest. Terran was honest that he didn't have a weapon on him. More like in him. And a few more, to match.
[1/10]
[Terran lowers his stance, releases claws and arm spires.]
Thu Feb 17, 2011 11:43 am · id 297486943 · page 1
Right.
Henry took the weapon and held it with his left hand near the unbroken end and the right about at about the middle point. The frayed end was pointed toward Terran. The wood had splintered into a pair of fairly sharp ends, almost fork-like. It didn't make him feel any better about the situation to be brandishing the broom handle in this way. He almost smiled as he thought about the slim chance he had of it actually being effective in any way. It was almost comical. Almost.
Here goes nothing.
The man took off, running forward to close the inbetween the two fighters. As he closed in, the broom handle rose, Henry having lifted it above his head, hands moving closer to one another in his grip. When he fell within range of Terran, say a couple feet, Henry would swing the broom handle downward forcefully, aiming for the top of the Infernal's skull.
1
Thu Feb 17, 2011 1:42 pm · id 297496591 · page 1
A very straight forward attack, Terran mused to himself as the man swung in. Given his lower stance, Terran would shift his body to the left, his right arm extending up and bending so that the spire would block the broom handle from above, while his left hand would clench into a fist and jut forward, aimed for the lowest set of ribs on Henry's body.
Equal measures force in for force out. A simple attack garners a simple rebuke. He did hope, however, that his opponent would step it up.
[2/10]
[No Summary Necessary]
Thu Feb 17, 2011 9:04 pm · id 297562077 · page 1
The broom handle came down on the bony spire with all of Henry's strength behind it. The wood bowed and gave in, shattering at the point of impact and curling around the appendage Terran had used to block it. There was a split second between this and the subsequent retaliation that Henry had to reflect on his choice of attack. Of course, it occurred to him that he had made a mistake. That he was a complete dumbass.
"Dammit!"
Then, it came. The large, horrifically powerful fist that found its way into Henry's side. He felt his lung contract and his ribcage fold in. He leaned over, arm folding against the inflicted area. Henry stumbled backward. The grimace on his face made the success of Terran's attack quite obvious.
2
Thu Feb 17, 2011 10:59 pm · id 297574023 · page 1
Grimace? What grimace? Terran never saw a grimace. While Henry clenched his teeth in pain and made a face, Terran went right into the next movement. There wasn't much room for a man, when the blood sport starts. And so, without relent, the Infernal Construct pressed on.
As his fist made connection, and the opponent fell back, the beast lurched forward to keep close. That left hand unfurled from it's clenched fist and became a set of talons, the demonic claws digging into the grooves of the tile floor before pulling their owner forward. Like a gorilla walking on it's knuckles, Terran swung the weight of his body around.
His entire right side came in to chase Henry, foot extended for the hip, hand for the shoulder. The heavy monster intended to force himself onto Henry's body, hoping to, essentially, climb him and get a good hold.
[3/10]
[Terran pulls himself forward immediately and attempts to grapple Henry, right foot around left hip and right hand around left shoulder.]
Fri Feb 18, 2011 1:13 am · id 297579967 · page 1
Goddamn combo moves.
Henry hadn't a second to react before there was suddenly a large demonic robot or whatever closing in on him. His instincts kicked in at this point. His body knew it still held the broken half of broom handle in it's right hand. It will have another frayed end from breaking over the beast's arm.
Henry thrust the broken end of the broken handle forward. He wasn't aiming for anywhere specific. He simply put it out there, hoping that it would find some sort of soft flesh. Hopefully not steel or demon skin that was every bit as resistant. It was a clumsy, inaccurate jerk of the arm that put the handle out there. It was also his best bet. Unfortunately.
3
Fri Feb 18, 2011 1:38 am · id 297580699 · page 1
It takes less than a pound of pressure to puncture human flesh. And an Infernal, while made of sterner stuff, must still move for combat. Shattered wood slivered and punched through the monster's skin, and he let out a bellowing roar, but he certainly wasn't going to let his dominion over the battle go, short of getting killed.
As his opponent stepped forward to stab Terran, the broom found paydirt in his belly as his foot and hand, claws of each extended in all their unholy gnashing, gained hold of the man's hip and shoulder. The weight of Terran (127kg) began to bare down on Henry, his left foot hiking up now to try and find footing in his belly. And with the broom sticking out of the side of his gut, Terran's left arm reached back, hauled off and came screaming down toward the bridge of Henry's nose.
[4/10]
[Terran takes the broom stab to the belly in order to climb his opponent's body unabated, right foot and hand digging in, left foot looking for hold in Henry's gut, when his left arm would go for a full bore punch across the nose.]
Fri Feb 18, 2011 2:18 am · id 297581641 · page 1
Henry couldn't possibly stay up. Terran weighed half a ton, felt like. Of course, he toppled, crumbling to the floor as a bellowing roar echoed off the near walls and ceiling. If only Henry had a second to admire his handy work. Oh well. Maybe some other time.
He had more pressing matters, y'know. Like his face being pushed in and all. As the two hit the floor, a large demonic hand fell flat against Henry's fact, pushing his nose flush with his cheek. The breaking of cartilage echoed within his skull as his nose was crushed. The foot in his gut didn't feel too good either. There would be a quite a large bruise there soon enough.
Neither of that mattered as much as the concussion he probably had from Terran slamming Henry's skull into the tile floor. The world spun, and his vision unfocused. His brain was thoroughly crushed to the back of his skull. This was not good.
But he didn't let go of that broom stick handle. He probably couldn't if he wanted to. It was one of those survival things, y'know.
4
Fri Feb 18, 2011 2:58 am · id 297582463 · page 1
Blood smeared over Terran's arm as the nose crumpled like a paper cup, and his own blood began to pour out of the stomach wound inflicted by that god damned broom. A wound made only worse by Henry's chicken legs not being able to support Terran's weight, and the tile slamming the handle deeper into him. A belch of purple blood spilled out of his lips. It wasn't acrid or acidic or anything. Just... weird, woo woo colored blood.
But back to the whole, fighting thing. Cause that's why we're here. Whipping his arm back, Terran did the natural thing. Punching Henry again... and again. Hopefully the kid'll throw in the towel or do something drastic before the wet bone part.
[5/10]
[With his full weight on Henry, Terran just starts swinging on Henry's face. The broom handle burrows deeper, and Terran is now bleeding]
-EDIT for CLARIFICATION-
The aforementioned attack is two concise punches across the face 'Punching Henry again(1)... and again.(2), Since we all tend to operate by the D&D six second rule. It was also brought to unanimous attention that my... dramatic flare, might have come off as if I were actually tying to cave his head in. No. I'm really just trying to punch him out.
Fri Feb 18, 2011 3:51 am · id 297583371 · page 1
That is a fortunate edit. The last thing this guy needs is his character going the way of that yellow b*****d.
Anyway, fortunately for Henry, Terran hadn't taken his weapons away. Either of them.
The first punch came across the young man's face. Henry hadn't ever wondered what it would be like to get hit in the face with a baseball bat, but he would later surmise that this punch probably felt quite similar. At the moment, he would surmise that he did not want to feel that again. But he was hardly in the right mind to be making any sort of tactical decision.
But, wait. What's this? Something warm and wet. Flowing from the creature on top of him.
(Don't get ahead of me here.)
Oh, right. Henry felt the blood-drenched broom handle in his hand again. Maybe he could buy some time. Well, he wasn't actually thinking about time buying. Moreso about wrenching that broom handle deeper into Terran's abdomen just for the sake of being an a*****e.
Which is exactly what he tried to do. Possibly his last act in this battle would be him using what strength he had left in his arm to push that broom handle as deep as he possibly could into his opponent as the infernal's second punch rose overhead.
Hey, he's an abyssal. He'll be fine.
5
Fri Feb 18, 2011 12:05 pm · id 297605605 · page 1
When his fist pulled back for another slam, a sharp pain overtook his gut. Henry got up the nerve for a big move. The broom handle, sticking through his body, suddenly wrenched. When it hit the tile floor, his body went into minor shock from muscle trauma, but this was less abrupt, and no less painful. His feet shifted, quite ungracefully, from Henry's hip and gut to the floor, and he rapidly pushed off, essentially bounding to his feet and stumbling back.
He snarled, his hand wrapping around the handle. In a single horrible pull, he yanked the handle that threatened to kebab him. A spray of purple splattered forward from the inch wide hole. Blood came rushing, like too many kids standing outside the locked door of a candy shop. "God damn it." His voice took on two forms. The deep, booming Michael Clarke Duncan voice from before, and a rasping ethereal echo. "I didn't wanna do this until tournament proper!"
With the wound open now, Terran would release the hole, clench both fists and, essentially, pelvic thrust. And at the apex of his hips swing, a loud cracking noise sounded off, and a spire of shining red bone jutted from the hole, stifling the blood. Across the floor, purple and red blood mixed, and in the pool, Terran's stature reflected
"Well. Alright then... Good job. You up to more?" He asked blankly. He'd slammed the kid's head twice. For all he knew, all there was left in Henry's head was pudding.
[MANIFEST]
[100%]
[Manifest Spire : -15%]
[85% Manifest]
[6/10]
[The second punch aborted, Terran sprang up to rip the broom out of his belly, sealing the wound with a manifested spire.]
Fri Feb 18, 2011 11:54 pm · id 297698833 · page 2
The second punch never came. Henry would have breathed a sigh of relief if his mouth wasn't filling with blood. He couldn't figure if it was from a lost tooth or a cut in his cheek. Too much pain everywhere to pinpoint just one cause.
So the first thing he did was roll over and spit it out. The bright white tile was stained with red spread out in a splash pattern. It was almost artistic in the way it splayed out like a hand reaching. Too bad Henry smeared it around with his hand as tried to push himself up.
He was only up onto his knees when Terran's query came.
"..one more.."
The adrenaline was flowing now. His vision would be clear in a matter of seconds. Henry brought a leg up, put his foot down, and pushed, forcing his body into a vertical base.
6
Sat Feb 19, 2011 1:47 am · id 297703749 · page 2
Terran nodded, cracked his knuckles briefly and rushed forward. Tossing the broom handle aside, the beast would make another, more straight forward attack, this time going for a running kick, talons extended to give an extra point to the attack.
...What? Not much to say.
[7/10]
Sat Feb 19, 2011 3:43 am · id 297706353 · page 2
No time for finesse.
Henry blinked once, twice, and the charging Terran broke into view. He threw something aside. Henry didn't have time to glance over, but he knew what it was: that broken broomstick.
Instinct kicked in again, and the young man broke right, juking like a running back to put his core just outside of the linear path Terran's kick will take.
He'll leave a hand in the way, though. Balled into a fist. Pushing forward into a heavy punch that Terran would run hopefully run into, landing somewhere in the vicinity of the piercing wound he had inflicted a moment ago.
7
Sat Feb 19, 2011 4:02 am · id 297706707 · page 2
Skidding to a halt to launch his kick, Terran caught the movement of his opponent to his right (or Terran's left), and so the Infernal would swing his leg around revealing his left side wide open, essentially protecting the wound, covered through it is in the spire. The punch... well, Terran felt it, but his leathery hide took the blow about as hard as a gorilla wearing an alligator might.
Foot slamming down, Terran's next move was simple and fluid. Extend arm and turn back rapidly, attempting a full bore slam with his wrist across Henry's face. Connect or no, the spin would go full circle, and Terran would be facing the enemy now, hunkering lower at this point to protect his core.
[8/10]
[Terran turned so his thick skin took the brunt of the punch, before twisting back in a sweeping attack aimed to smack Henry across the nose.
Sat Feb 19, 2011 4:30 am · id 297707237 · page 2
Smack!
********.
You better believe that hurt.
The punch was a failure. And for it, Henry received a blow to his freshly broken nose in kind. He should have expected such an attack, as he had notable wound of his own when he'd chosen to attach Terran's.
Not to mention you should never put it past an abyssal of any sort to resort to tit-for-tat retaliation.
It forced Henry back, a hand raising to his face to cover the broken nose. He wouldn't be able to go back very far, however. The hall was fairly narrow.
8
Sat Feb 19, 2011 12:19 pm · id 297740923 · page 2
Prodigy Composer Wrote:
The hall was fairly narrow You ain't kidding. With his opponent's back to a wall, and Terran's back to him, the Infernal would continue to use his body as a weapon, and while the enemy's guard was on his smashed up face, Terran would snap his right leg around to kick for Henry's ribcage, hoping to put him through the drywall and wrap this one up in a neat little bow.
[9/10]
[With nothing to defend against, Terran would turn himself and lash out with a single heavy kick for Henry's ribs.]
Sat Feb 19, 2011 4:24 pm · id 297771863 · page 2
Henry left himself wide open. His murky awareness didn't register this, however. Not until after the kick. In a sort of "You ******** jackwagon!" sort of way.
The world went dark as he passed through the wall. Thankfully, there wasn't a stud for him to run into. But he was still done. He was winded, concussed, and his nose was shattered. Now was the time to throw in the towel.
Not to mention the fact that if your opponent just kicked you through a wall, you might want to consider the fact that you're kind of in over your head.
9
Sat Feb 19, 2011 8:39 pm · id 297814477 · page 2
Terran lowered his foot slowly, back stepping across the hall. He paused, scared. He wasn't sure if he'd gone too far. No groan, no wheezing. Nothing at all. Looking around quietly, Terran lowered his arms, spires retracting into his body. "...Uh... you dead?"
[10/10]
Sat Feb 19, 2011 8:52 pm · id 297816729 · page 2
Mon Feb 21, 2011 1:29 pm · id 298049405 · page 2
A little while later, Henry's bleeding had stopped, and Terran even managed to help him upright, get him some water, and hopefully get him mostly aware. "You alright there, buddy?" He finally asked, glancing at the man from a bench. He hadn't stepped outside, and the principle refused to let camera crews and paparazzi into the school. Only a small group of medics were with them. "Didn't mean to hurt you so bad."
(Forgot which SN I was on.)
