HoH season 11. Source: valucre.net static Gaia dump.
... Terrible, terrible place. All of the shitty cars ever made, all in one parking lot.
Terrain
General - Shitty cars in every row, spaced out about three feet from one another. Have fun.
Natural Element Resource - Row after row after row after row of rice burning machines.
Weapons - All of the cars have been left unlocked, some of them have even had the trunk opened, and all of them have their factory standard floor jacks and spare tires.
Bonus Effects - None.
Standing in the center of the parking lot was the first participant of this fight, Ko Yuen. The Asian was currently sporting a red suit with a black dress shirt and an accompanied white tie. Red tinted glasses were settled on his face as he stood relatively calm within a wide corridor of space with cars of many varieties having their front hoods pointing toward it. He looked like he had been in his fair share of fights. The scars on his face told enough of this story. At least he dressed nicely. Even if his greased back hair was a little corny to finish the bad-a** look he was going for.
Both hands were stuffed into his pockets, waiting for the arrival of his preliminary opponent. He may have seen calmed on the outside, but his heart was already beating, ready for the fight that was about to play out to the audience of the world; ready to feel the heat of battle, and the crunch of his opponent's jaw breaking to one of his punches. His right hand went to work reaching behind his suit's coat, and removing a 1' 5" long black baton-looking item. Keeping that arm free, he playfully spun the object around at his side while his left foot tapped upon the concrete, a sign of impatience.
"It won't be long," he muttered under his breath in his Cantonese accent.
Deceivingly light steps made a steady 'clop clop clop' sound against the pavement as the other challenger approached from the far end of the lot. Why anyone would wear such loud and likely feminine footwear to such an event was a mystery to anyone with enough sense to guess the odds between a pair of sneakers and heeled boots. It was an issue that Lovi had reviewed repeatedly before deciding against logic and quelling her insecurities about her stature. At just over six feet, she was reasonably tall for a person, but diminutive with regards to a lineage that rivaled the average lamp post at times. Besides, she wanted to tower over her opponents whenever it was possible. It was her own personal way of keeping confidence despite her growing fears.
Dressed head to toe in leather garb (an ensemble chosen by a teammate, much to her distaste), Lovi's outfit was a trifle snug, though reasonably flexible to her range of movement. Not an entirely unusual feeling for her, though she could conjure some preferable alternatives.
She eyed her opponent as she approached, making something of a formal entrance out of polite regards for the other. Her curiosity, however, lingered more on the vehicles than the man in red. Cars were not the common means of conveyance in Sigil, and Lovi certainly didn't use one. The place was like a graveyard for things that were already dead to begin with. Bizarre.
Ko was one person Lovi did not have the pleasure of towering over. He was a good 6' 3", pretty tall for a Chinese person. Still, he saw the height that the woman had as something to admire. Her body wasn't bad to look at, either. If she was fighting in a tournament like this, it was very likely that her body was built from physical training. That meant she was here seriously rather than for showing off her looks. And when he saw her, he was putting away the baton he had but a moment taken out, straightening his tie as he approached her. He was clearing his throat and rubbing at his sides as if they were dirty as he got close until he finally stopped within a good three feet of her. Placing his hands at his side, he bowed his head a couple of times, a formal greeting that the Chinese were use to giving before placing his right hand out forward in an offer for a shake. He kept himself slightly bowed forward.
"It is nice to meet you," he said to her in that heavy accent. He must have had trouble speaking English, as his words weren't as fast as normal speakers. He kept his eyes held forward toward her, waiting to see if she would accept his handshake. Formalities to a lady was something he could not let pass. He was going to have to treat this fight differently from his normal brawls.
The bowing gesture was not unheard of to Lovi, though she still found the formality a bit excessive in light of the situation. If nothing else, it was a pleasant relief from some of her more common receptions.
She nodded to acknowledge the gesture and accepted his hand with what would likely have seemed like a firm grip. It was one of the few, but crucial things that was deceiving about her. She could not help but notice that her opponent's posture had changed upon her approach. A part of her was irritated that any man would think to restrain himself simply due to the coincidence of her gender, but she had grown accustomed to such false notions of 'proper' practice and chivalry. Foolish ideals, but she could hardly blame a man for following in the footsteps of his culture.
She held herself to her full stature, cursing in the back of her mind for being matched with someone who made her feel small. She was usually quite good at hiding her discomfort, but nerves were getting the better of her. She'd never competed in such a way before, and her training in the snowy peaks of Torden had been significantly less than formal.
This wasn't going to be like anything she had ever experienced before. The thought held excitement, but she wasn't likely to embrace it until the adrenaline hit her veins in the heat of battle.
"Likewise," she said in a low, possibly sultry voice. Her hand loosened for just a second before she resumed her grip, as if her thoughts had trailed off for a moment before remembering something crucial.
"Don't hold back," she said simply, meeting his eye with sincerity before finally letting go of his hand.
Lovi had no illusions as to her situation. She was strong on many levels of the word, but her experience was not in the arena. Whatever her hopes were for the outcome of the preliminaries, she would mark the occasion as one of significance. This was the beginning of something new.
His left hand joined in the shaking of hands, adding a little more formality to the greeting. He was watching her the whole time as she gave her reply. And yet, her grip loosened, as if her mind had went somewhere for a moment. Even her eyes shifted a little as the thoughts of being doubted went through her mind. And Ko...well, Ko was not exactly as he appeared to be. He let go of her hand during the midst of this greeting, letting his right hand rise in a swift manner. He kept his fingers close together and his hand straight with a little curve as he sent a smooth-flowing backhand toward her right cheek, which would end up on the other side of her head at its end. His left hand remained on her right hand to keep her from using it in some form of a last second defense.
That's right. He was basically giving her a b***h slap, returning to his straightened posture. His expression went from sincere back to neutral, though his eyes took on a colder appearance. Expose your weak spot to a tiger and it will make you pay ten times for it. Now was a good time for her to feel inferior, for he clearly showed her no respect. The strength in the slap, should it hit, was pretty tough. It could cause her to backpedal from its explosive power alone, if she knew what was good for her.
The fight was initiated.
1
This gesture was one that Lovi had not been anticipating, though her shock was substantially minimized by a lifetime of experience and other lacking first impression. Why was it that putting one's best foot forward was never met with a polite response? She could scarcely recall an event where she didn't have to make a show of strength to gain the simple respect that all beings were worthy of. Worthy until proven otherwise, anyway.
Ko had struck her across the face with an open hand; an action she knew most women to use over the average, so-called 'masculine' man. And he had done so with a force that would have thrown a less stable opponent off of their feet. It probably would have broken an average person's neck had they been caught completely unaware.
For Lovi, it was more like being struck with an obscenely large rubber band (which might not sound so terrible until one dwells upon the thought for a time). The force, of course, turned her head and sent her torso leaning a little to one side. She had made no effort to block him.
Maybe Ko had been expecting a stronger reaction to the simple motion, but he had done significantly more than Lovi anticipated. It hurt. It really hurt, and that was a sensation that she felt quite rarely on her own time. Strange and sadistic as it was, the aspect of pain made the experience a more exhilirating prospect.
Clenching one hand into a tight fist, she twisted her torso slightly and shifted her weight forward, aiming a left hook for the "gentleman's" face. Provided he didn't dodge (though quick moving targets did seem to be the worst of her obstacles), the blow would hopefully have knocked him off his footing, if not send him back a few feet.
1
It was a non-gentleman thing for him to do to her, but he was no gentleman. He came from a culture where women were either whores clung to the arms of their trouble-making Triad or actual killers...who were still clung to the arms of their trouble-making Triad. In the end, it was the same result: a woman's place was beneath that of the stronger gender, a tradition that lived for a long time within the country of China. Chivalry meant nothing to the underworld. And thus, why he slapped her rather than punch or kick her. It was his way of saying these feelings in a painful way.
The slap was strong, but it seemed the woman stood her ground. Her strength was displayed the instant he noticed that, bringing him back to the realization that this was Heaven or Hell. The women here fought back. And boy, was her counter-attack fierce. Anger and adrenaline seemed to be driving her ambitions as she punched at him with the ferocity of an angry woman.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
It was only through Ko's trained martial reflexes that he was able to react in time. He couldn't do anything fancy defensively, but he could at least evade the punch. He continued to grip her right hand as support while leaning his upper body back, avoiding the swung fist. It was only a bare attempt, as her knuckles struck across his nose to the point that it caused a small burning sensation across the bridge as she struck against it. But as fast as her fist had left, his back was restraightened. His turn.
The wrist of her passing fist was suddenly grasped by the firm grip of his right hand, Ko staring her straight in the eyes as his left hand let go of its place of holding, only to repeat the previous attack. The open hand struck at Lovi's face again, going for another quick slap, this time with the palm side. After the second one, the right side of her face should really be turning red, accompanied with the loud clap of flesh against flesh. What's more, his attacks had a good chance of busting her lip, too. That's how brutal they were. All while doing this, his feet were spaced with the left foot being the lead. Even in this type of exchange, the teachings of his martial art training were subconsciously applied.
2
Lovi pulled her elbow back in after he had taken hold of her wrist, giving her a better angle to clutch his arm in turn. It felt kind of like they were trying to shake hands again, only this time there were no false pretenses as to the nature of their situation. In truth, after Ko had revealed the sincerity of his distaste for her, she was quite surprised that he had bowed to her at all. A proud man (and pride was the downfall of all men and women alike, much though she suffered from it) didn't lower his head to such a level under casual circumstances.
To Lovi, this meant that Ko was willing to sacrifice some of his pride for something significantly worse. And though she could stand against his intention without true fear of him, she suspected that neither of them would walk away from the arena satisfied.
His next two blows made a loud snapping noise upon delivery. Better prepared for it this time, she maintained a steady posture (which, really, was a poor decision, as it meant embracing the full force of each strike.) That warm iron taste seeped into her mouth from the corner of her lip, and had her face not gone momentarily numb to one side, she suspected she would feel it dripping from her chin as well.
Though her opponent had rattled her brain some upon the second strike, she had prepared herself for her next course of action as he took the third. Placing one foot back, her grip tightened where their arms were linked. Twisting her torso and shifting her weight back just a little, attempted throw him into the hood of the nearest vehicle, the motion resembling something of a low pitch.
2
This was about as disrespectful a man could get to a woman, slapping her around as if she was some lowly specimen. It was a cruel sight to show on television, but the viewers were aware that everything they were watching was PG-13; blood and other parental-advising material was bound to happen. After all, it was only a couple of HoHs ago when a woman had her who-whos exposed to the public eye in one of her fights. Nevertheless, he could only do this for so long before the woman reacted with a strong pull on his arm, sending his body sailing a couple of feet into a nearby FIAT. Her strength finally showed, and it clearly was something to consider. Ko did not expect such power to come from that body. She must have had above average attributes to allow her such physical power.
His back slammed into the hood of the green-colored vehicle, designed as if it was straight out of a British sitcom. The hood was not that large, either, so his legs slumped off when he struck into it, overlaying the front grill while he was facing her. His shades fell off his face mid flight, revealing those sharp-looking eyes of his filled with unemotional glinting. His arms kept bent out to the sides, hands against the hood as he rested there, expecting her to follow up with something else. The throw hurt, but it was nowhere close enough to disable him in any way. She was going to have do better than that to make him feel the pain that he inflicted on her.
In the meantime, he took the moment to finally activate a special trait of his own. He didn't think he would have to utilize it so soon in this tournament, or even in this match for that matter, but this woman called for exceptional means. Maybe he didn't need to use it, but it was better safe than sorry. Who knows, she might even be able to shoot fire at him. How annoying that would be.
And so, the spiritual power flowed through his body.
(Jin)
3
While some might have looked into Ko's eyes and seen nothing but his cold heart, Lovi saw a sense of superiority, which gave him a great deal of self confidence. Admirable in it's own way, though it didn't help to improve her perspective on the eventual outcome of their bout. After all, strength was only a tool and she had spent the better part of her existence practicing to suppress it.
This confidence in her opponent was something of a mild surprise to her, actually. He had just exposed the worst part of himself to the whole viewing world and he held to it without fear of judgment, nor remorse. How foolishly full of oneself must a man be to slap a woman across the face and believe that it struck anywhere beyond the surface? True enough, striking an individual with an open palm was cruel at heart because it bore a kind of symbolism. But to acknowledge that would mean giving credence to the idea of a social hierarchy, and Lovi simply could not oblige him in that respect. Before her was a man who was sure of his place...and hers, as well. And before him was a woman who defined nothing by the laws of human kind (or any other kind, really).
Her opponent may have despised her on principal, but she hated him, sincerely, for his character. So when she charged at him to close the distance she had made, she did so with a growing anticipation to feel his jaw crack beneath her knuckles. This eager attitude, however, might have caused her to overlook the aura that manifested about her comparatively collected foe.
3
Ko's hands were melding into the hood, like he had suddenly become Superman, creating an immediate imprint into the green plating of the car. Lovi probably didn't notice it. She was rushing at him with the full intent of proving to him how wrong his perceptions of her really were. If only she was able to know the whole story, maybe then she would give him some sympathy. But the asian had already dipped too deep into the world of the Triads. He could not restrain himself for one moment of chivalry. He did feel like that what he was about to do was a bit cruel, even for his standards, for although women deserved no respect, they still held worth in the eyes of a man such as Ko. They were beautiful. They were great wives. And they held superior skill in cooking. There was nothing better than coming home from a hard day's work with your woman waiting there at the table with hot, steaming food resting in front of you. To make it even more tasteful, that same woman would be standing there in an apron...and nothing more.
It was a shame he had to fight a woman today. He could not hold back, as there was money and fame to be won, which was far more important than one female. After all, with those rewards, he could acquire a car full of women and months worth of luxurious food. The thought was enough to bring him into justification of hopping off the car, his back facing toward Lovi. Both of his hands gripped into the metal of the hood, as if it had suddenly turned into a softer substance, allowing him to rip a large chunk of the curved plating from the entire object itself, exposing the engine beneath. The way it ripped itself was reminiscent of how you tore off a piece of cardboard. The ends were jagged, but there was some refined straight edges along the torn seams. Lovi was unaware that the energy of Metal was coursing through his body, a spiritual ability that spawned from the ancient techniques of Chinese martial arts. It allowed him the capability to literally take a piece of metal and affect it as if it was merely clay. And because the metal used for making the FIAT was more synthetic than pure steel, it was easier to rip off. Call it the car companies using affordable production methods.
"Hng!"
Wielding his new weapon, Ko spun around to his left one-hundred eighty degrees, sending the flat end of this object striking toward Lovi's colliding body. It was sort of like a makeshift shield, but he was clearly using it more like a club than as a defensive object. As it was stated, he didn't want to do this. It could really mess up her face if she ran into it unexpectedly, and he didn't like when a woman's face got too brutally damaged. A bloody lip was fine.
4
Had Lovi some obscure, supernatural means of seeing into Ko's thoughts (and she didn't), she would likely have been disgusted beyond her existing distaste for the fellow. For all his show of masculine "superiority" he was doing exactly what she had asked him not to. He was holding back, and for reasons that exceeded the conventional realms of ignorance and arrogance.
Perhaps it would have offended him to learn that Lovi did not cook, and that she was the matriarch of her own professional organization. She lived in a world that she had established for herself and any like-minded individuals that were willing to coincide with her particular brand of management.
Lovi only had a few seconds to realize what was going on and brace herself for the inevitable impact. She was able to prevent the hood from causing any severe damage by blocking with her right arm. She left a substantial dent in the metal, though her brash actions had cost her balance and footing. He knocked her back a few feet, and if her face had hurt from before, then her arm was certainly feeling the full effect of his attack now.
Having gone momentarily off balance, she stalled her next course of action to regain her barrings and switch to a defensive position.
4
((Terribly sorry for the awful post, dear. Had to make an emergency run to the drug store for my fiance and wound up making a full grocery run of it. Lost my train of thought by the time I got home. XP ))
WHACK!
The counter force from her block caused the hood to recoil, though surely not back into Ko's face with the control he had over in his unorthodox handed grip, each hand still grasping the metal like it was some piece of cloth. Viewers were probably taking this as if he was a super strong guy, and already felt like he was Superman going against a Superwoman. But, as shown between the actual DC characters themselves, Superman still was a lot more experienced than his cousin. There was, of course, Powergirl, who probably fit the image of Lovi a whole lot better due to her busty image. She was considered fanservice anyway. And with Lovi's line of work, well, it wasn't that far off of a similarity.
Ko looked at the dent that he saw created in the center of the metal. His eyes showed that he was a little shocked by the result. That was no little dent. This dent was caused by a charging woman who just rammed into a piece of cheap metal. Even he knew that his weapon was a poor choice against a woman of such strength. He probably could hit her over the head with the thing, and instead of breaking her, it would be destroyed instead. His eyebrows furrowed as he tossed the idea of her being so strong aside, the hood being thrown from his grip to the side, as well, to get rid of the incapable thing.
Ko turned around and walked back toward the car that he just tore the hood from only a moment ago. Opening the unlocked driver's side, Ko stepped into the seat, having his hand reach below the wheel and suddenly remove the underplating to reveal the underworkings of wires that caused the steering wheel to function, along with other things such as the locking system.
5
Truth be told, Lovi's feminine "wiles" were not half as substantial as those of some other contestants; most especially her own teammate, Glory. A small fact that didn't really effect Lovi in the least, as she rarely took notice of it, but it was a feature that some female combatants used to a cruel and often effective advantage. That is not to say, of course, that such underhanded tactics were beyond her, but she lived by the philosophy of her own desires. If she had wanted to convince her opponent to stay his hand on behalf of her gender or of her physical beauty, then she would have. (Granted, the suit that she had been gifted for use in the tournament might have done some of that for her without requiring the extra effort).
The dent that Lovi had made in the metal of the hood was not without effort, nor sacrifice. While her strength was obvious, it was becoming all the more evident that there was a difference between dead weight and an object put into motion with substantial force. She honestly hadn't expected to suffer any form of injury in the preliminary bout, though she supposed that all contestants, skilled or otherwise, were subject to the same entry conditions. This was what Tresondros had tried to prepare her for. In hindsight, perhaps it would have been wise to set aside her personal distaste for the man and have taken better advantage of his tutelage.
Having been disoriented by her own pain (for her arm did ache, though she could feel no broken bone within as of yet) and momentary imbalance, Lovi was briefly off her guard before preparing herself for another direct attack. Much to her surprise, Ko had actually turned tail in her moment of vulnerability, taking refuge in one of the many abandoned vehicles within the lot. This presented the altogether frustrating, albeit rare, opportunity to give chase after her opponent.
Now, for the record, Lovi was not so foolish as to believe that he had simply realized her superior might and run to shield himself. She was, however, somewhat new to the world of technology and convenient transportation. Cars just didn't cut it on the mountain peaks of Torden, and the almost constant chill of the weather made modern power lines an impractical luxury. So when her opponent had ducked into the car, her mind did not immediately make the connection between a petty criminal and the means by which he might steal said vehicle.
5
Ko's body was leaned toward the seat, but his head was still able to look over the dashboard at Lovi. His eyes rose and lowered between her and the wires his hands were now fiddling with. She had noticed where he was, but she did not try to give chase. She was being cautious, which meant she probably knew what he was up to, her ignorance unknown to him. But whether she knew or not, standing there gave up the chance for her to try to interrupt him hot-wiring this FIAT. With a few re-adjusting of the colored wires...
CHK-CHK-VRROOOOM.
His right foot pressed down on the gas pedal, revving up the engine, its workings clearly shown with a naked hood. Although the ticker rose up along the mph gauge, the wheels did not move due to the car currently put in neutral. A smirk washed over Ko's face, sitting up straight in the driver's seat. The window was rolled down, allowing his left arm to rest along the window pane, while his right placed itself onto the shift lever.
"Sorry," he said to himself, keeping that smile on his face.
Pulling back on the lever, the car went into drive. His foot pushed against the pedal, causing the FIAT to suddenly drive itself forward, aiming to hit right into Lovi and carry her into a car waiting for her behind her.
6
Lovi had motioned to pursue him, but her pace had been relaxed, perhaps a little too cautious by her own uncertainty. When she heard the engine spring to life ('spring' wasn't quite the word for it, however) Lovi's expression lit up with the kind of epiphany that most people experience when they realize they've worn something like their glasses or socks into the shower, or when someone checks their pockets for their cell phone as they're using it to talk.
Well, at least now she could feel like an idiot as equally as she looked like one.
As the inevitable was put in motion, Lovi had only a split second to prepare herself for the impact. Somewhere in that indiscernible amount of time, she sincerely thought that she could handle the vehicle without any real problems. Hell, she could lift a car. She could lift a car with every seat occupied. She probably couldn't catch it were it falling, though. And as the bumper struck her legs, she supposed that pushing the vehicle to full speed was about two thirds the impact of having said heap of metal fall upon her from the top of a small sky-scraper. Having not had the experience personally, however, it was entirely possible that she had exaggerated the pain somewhat.
She went forward initially, tossed over the exposed engine as she reached out to grip at any vulnerable part that she could get her hands on. When he pinned her between himself and another car, the shock sent her flying the opposite direction onto the other hood. Hands still gripping components of his engine, she had (hopefully) torn out some significant parts along the way. Of course when he collided with the car behind her, the impact had pushed the stationary vehicle into motion, allowing her to slip her legs free after the initial collision. Few things gave Lovi cause to voice her pain, but when Ko had briefly pinned her by the legs, she screamed bloody murder. Something had either been broken or torn into, and she wasn't particularly thrilled about either possibility.
"Get out here and face me like a man, dammit!" she taunted, the blood from her cut lip now cold and sticky like the entrails of a spaghetti dinner.
6
A sickening feeling passed through his stomach when the car struck into the woman, the THUD ringing true to his ears. For a brief second, a sense of sympathy had came upon him, that guilty conscious trying to pop right up and scream at him for his wrongdoings. It was as if his soul was gripped by the iron claws of justice itself, nausea nearly coming to his body.
But his mental training instantly repressed that, and the reality returned right before him. Before his eyes, he saw the woman strike into the opposite vehicle. What shocked him more than actually ramming into her was that she now held the motor in her hands itself, causing the car to rumble to a stop. He was half expecting her to chuck that thing through the window, which caused him to duck his head. Instead, she merely shouted for him to come out and fight her. He did not know what he should have been surprised more by: her resilience or her lack of fighting instincts. His hands fiddled out of her sight beneath the dashboard before he decided to actually listen to her demand.
He rolled his eyes before stepping out of the car, kicking the door open rather harshly. His right hand swung around behind him as he gave this swaying way of closing the door. Walking toward her, his upper body reversed its direction, swinging around his right side. Lo and behold, he had the steering wheel held in his right hand.
"I am a man," he said, releasing the driving implement in a spinning manner on a one way course toward her already bruised face.
"But you are not."
Although he would love for it to hit, he was only using it as a distraction. He rushed up behind it, leaning his upper body forward as he spread his arms out. He ran right on top of a neighboring car's hood, turned his body toward her, and used all of the momentum he just built up to lift his left leg and shoot a mid-body kick (meaning the foot never goes above the hip level) toward the back of Lovi's head.
"Learn your place!"
7
Ok, so she had gotten a little carried away with herself. It's easy to become somewhat impaired in the process of being sandwiched between two cars. Of course, he did himself no favors by responding to her words in kind. She probably should have thrown the engine at him, but such an action felt so...removed. At this point, all she wanted was to feel flesh and bone beneath her fingers; that sweet splintering sound when one held a man's arm wrist to elbow and with just a twist... No. Best not to think about it, lest she start feeling the urges.
She had tossed the engine aside before slipping off of the hood to stand, unsure of the state of her aching leg, though she refrained from looking down to verify any damage. If she could stand, then she was fine.
She seemed confused when he had stepped out of the car with the steering wheel in hand, concealed at first, though she could see it well enough as he hurled in her direction.
Quote:** Wrote:Intercept: Lovi examines her target's route of travel and devises the best point and means to stop them whether it's tripping up a strafing opponent or nabbing some mobile object. With ancestry hailing from the ancient berserks, she has adapted their fabled technique of catching fast moving projectiles and hurling them back at their opponent with deadly accuracy. This ability applies to spears, stones, axes, knives and other larger weapons. Catching arrows requires and extra strain on her agility, and cannot be hurled back at an enemy.
Lovi can intercept some magic projectiles such as fire balls, ice spears, ect, but will take full damage before returning fire on her opponent.
She wasn't much for dodging, but with an object so small she supposed it wouldn't have mattered one way or another. She caught the projectile easily, and turned it back his way in a sort of reflexive action, hopefully interrupting his intended course. It was the one quick-handed trick that she had, and usually garnered some mild surprise from it's recipient.
7
((OOC: I hope that's ok. I'm still a little sick and dizzy, so just let me know.))
((Seems fine to me.))
It seemed like in the end, underestimating this woman had caused him to drop his guard. He could see the wheel coming at his face, but during the moment where he realized what was happening, he regretted letting this happened. He was very fortunate that it was not something more dangerous that he threw at her or else this match could probably have ended right here. So he closed his eyes in reflex as the steering wheel knocked itself back into his face, causing his run to stop immediately, followed by falling backwards onto the pavement.
His left hand went to his nose, checking to make sure it wasn't broken as the pain pulled at his entire face. His eyes kept opening and closing during this wound tending, not believing he fell into such a move. This woman had reacted faster than he anticipated and took advantage of his attitude and movements. He had to admit, he had it coming to him, but he was hoping that his succession of moves had dropped her morale to the point where this fight was his. Ko was sitting up staring at her, still trying to realize that fact. With a finger pecking just below his nose, he saw a spot of blood touching his skin. The amazonian-woman managed to make his nose bleed.
Lovi had proven herself. Although Ko was skillful and quite a physical fighter himself, his female opponent was clearly stronger than him. From swinging a car door at her to actually driving a car into her body, her physical superiority proved to be a great asset in keeping her standing. A normal woman would have already fallen after his slap fest from earlier. But even as he sat there on the ground holding his nose, that cold look returned to his sharp eyes. He looked down at his FIGHTER, quickly noticing the timer counting down toward the end. It was no longer time to play around. If he wanted to prove to the HoH council that he should be accepted into the tournament, he was going to have to show superior dominance.
His left hand extended forward, beckoning her...challenging Lovi, to come at him, as a smirk appeared onto his face.
8
Lovi couldn't deny having felt some level of pleasure at catching her opponent off guard. Still, so simple a victory did not measure up to her "friend" in kind. Perhaps it would have been more of a spectacle had she the will knowledge to drive a vehicle herself, though she abhorred the thought of it. It wasn't really combat when one removed themselves from the physical portion of it (but then, that could have been some degree of bitter thinking on her part).
Now he beckoned to her, a gesture she appreciated more than she could say. Of course she was wary, but that slight boost in confidence was enough to bid her move with only the slightest pause; just enough time to lean on her injured leg and be certain that it wouldn't give beneath her.
She charged forward, every other step like wading through a barrel of sharpened knives, much though she tried to ignore it. Ko wasn't much beyond her. She came at him with the simple intention of decking him on the nose, her other arm poised for low strike should he block the first.
8
Hand to hand combat. That was very inviting. He would want nothing more than to show her up in another area of combat, and prove to her that her strength had limits. She was not going to get far in this tournament through her body alone. He wanted to simply exchange blows against her and one-up her even more that he probably could take her blows, too. A cocky thought, but he had the knowledge of his martial arts to shave off direct hits.
He could do that. But he wouldn't. There was too little time for them to get into a hand to hand contest. He had to inflict the most damage possible before the horn was blown. It was a good thing she charged at him rather than the opposite. It made it easier on him. Pushing himself off the ground, he remained crouched as he charged in unison at her. Surely, he could not even think of meeting her head on in a upper body grapple. She was just going to throw him around again with her superior strength. So instead, he went for the legs.
His right shoulder led as he ducked beneath her punch and slammed into her gut area. Both arms wrapped themselves around each of her legs, hugging them to bring them together. He would have to say, she held some very firm legs for a woman. It brought up thoughts of lust and desire, but he had to keep his discipline to focus on the fight. Grabbing the legs made it easy for him to lift, and thus bring Lovi off the ground to slam her backwards onto the concrete. This was a simple double-leg takedown, which was a lot more skillful in dropping people than just trying to tackle them down through brute power. That technique was reserved for the big boys of the fighting world.
"Hng!"
Should this succeed, Ko would transition to get on top of her stomach (to sit on it), while keeping her pinned on her back. He would then raise his right fist to show he was about to hit her. He did not punch just yet, as he hung his fist there in the air. This was simply his way of telling her that he had her in his control yet again. This is aside the fact that his left hand would be resting on her chest, more out of support for his position rather than some lustful action. Though one thing was for sure: it was pretty soft. She clearly had a body that men would drool over. And that suit hid nothing.
9
There were many things to admire about her opponent, much though she wished she could dismiss him on the grounds of his flawed ethics. He was skilled in ways that she could never have hoped to learn in the snowy peaks of Torden. Strength was everything in a warrior of the Northland, and she had been gifted with it in abundance. However, beyond accuracy with a spear and the will to advance on the enemy without relent, there was little to be said on behalf of her people's individual battle tactics. Of course, Lovi always suspected that her former comrades back home were somewhat fond of pain, giving the many imperfections of their form a sort of romantic quality.
Ko was well balanced in the knowledge of his art, highly skilled and well practiced. She hadn't expected things to go easy, but she wasn't quite prepared for how he charged her in turn. She went down much the way he wanted her to, she suspected. An initial fall backwards wouldn't have been so terrible, but the extra force he provided, coupled with a knock to the back of the head...well, let's just say that Ko was doing her no favors. She supposed she should have been thankful for as much.
Suddenly, for whatever reason, his weight was on top of her. His focus was impeccable, but she could see distraction in his expression, however subtle. She had been trained in her own alternative art to pick up on those subtle hints of lust and wanting. He raised his fist, but she didn't flinch. What more damage could he do with his hands alone?
Hoping to take advantage of a slim opportunity, she shifted her hips and smiled at him. Then placed a hand over the one he had planted to hold her to the ground. It was possible that he wouldn't fall for such a ploy, but all she needed was to plant the single seed of desire; that one little voice in the back of his head that might suggest that this whole ordeal was just some bizarre flirtation. If he let his guard down enough, even for a second, she would take hold of his wrist and twist it sharply inwards, hopefully breaking it, as such an accomplishment would allow her to leave satisfied. If that went well she would attempt to roll him and reverse their respective positions.
9
The moment could be frozen by a camera. In fact, this shot was probably going to be used in future highlights of the tournament. He was staring down at Lovi as she placed her hand onto his. Mercy, perhaps? He did not even attempt to send his fist down at her at the moment. Their eyes were locked with another, as if entering into a mental game to see which one would expose their weakness first. Lovi was looking for a moment of his concentration wavering to the effects of having a woman like her this close. To Ko, he was mainly trying to get her to submit. But in those eyes, he saw only strength, an unbreakable will that knew no superior. She really did live up to her physical integrity. She was a woman who could not be conquered. Her will could not be broken.
When she twisted at his hand to try to bend it into a wristlock, Ko pulled on his arms and quickly tensed up his hand into a fist, twisting his hand to keep his arm realigned and from her gaining leverage. He knew locks well enough to know what she was trying to do. Smart. Almost too clever on her part, as well. Looked like she wasn't all brawn. Still, her strength alone showed, and it almost made her achieve her goal. It was only by this position that kept his wrist from being broken out of joint that instant. If she had used her other hand to aid her, she would be hearing the bones in his hand cracking right about now.
But that single reaction from him brought about his own proof of an iron will.
So down went his right fist, striking at her face for the finishing blow. It was going to hurt. It had to. He needed to show her no mercy. He needed to show her that he was not going to fall that easily to the wiles of a woman. He was much stronger than that. He had other things on his mind; more important things to worry about than the pleasures of a woman. Was he crazy? Maybe so. The scars on his face should serve as a testament to the physical punishment he probably has taken in his own life. That might have knocked out some of his sanity.
10
Well, it was worth a shot. Lovi could endure the sharp remarks on her character that she was sure to suffer after that little ploy. As if it mattered anything to her what these people thought. Hell, it might even drum up some new business after the tournament was over. Now that was a possibility she hadn't considered before, though the thought was increasingly displeasing as it mulled over in the very back of her mind.
Her attempt to distract and topple him had failed, though somewhere in that brief moment of calm he had shown something of himself. Something she didn't have a name for, or else she hadn't seen enough of it to realize what it was. But then, it didn't really matter. Not with his fist barreling down on her, anyway. She reached up and took hold of his collar, but whatever she had hoped to do was not in time to save herself from that last blow.
Lovi felt the initial impact and a kind of numbness thereafter. Then a slight dizzy feeling before she realized that her vision had gone red to one side. Whatever Ko had been aiming for, he managed to slam his knuckles into her left brow, forcing her flesh to split open against the ridge. It wasn't a very large wound, but it bled something fierce.
At this point Lovi had been slapped across the face, smashed with a hunk of metal, hit by a car, slammed to the ground and beaten. All things considered, it wasn't too surprising that her judgment was slipping some in these last moments of the preliminary round. As he hands remained gripped to his collar, she could see the time on her wrist, the seconds ticking down to their inevitable conclusion. This fight was over, and considering her state of being, she was more than happy to let it be..for now.
10
One punch. That's all he did. He could throw two or five. Or he could go up to ten fast punches. But one was enough. Cause he remembered all he had done to her in this fight. It wasn't fun to do, but it this was a tournament. There was no room for honor or holding back on this scene. If the audience hated him, then let them hate him. He was not here for them. He was here for his own personal reasons. Nothing else.
The beep went off on the FIGHTER, showing that the fight had ended. The armored judges were shifting near the exits, making sure both fighters knew this as well. They didn't have to intervene. Both fighters were wise enough to know when the fight ended. That was one thing Ko and Lovi had in common: they knew how to keep their aggressions in check.
Ko let go of her, standing up and stepping back. Turning around, he looked around to see if he could find his glasses that he dropped. Eventually he did, though unfortunately in a shattered mess. It seemed he had driven over them during his little stunt of running a car into his opponent. Well, that was one pair he was going to have to replace, and those things weren't cheap.
Bringing herself up from the ground was a task onto itself as Lovi heaved her weight forward, voicing her difficulty with the occasional grunt or sigh. Best take it in steps, she thought. No need to make a show of her stability after the end game. Especially not when one felt as dizzy as she did after the adrenaline rush had gone. Bloodied and battered, she was shaky to her feet, but she managed well enough on her lonesome.
This experience was enlightening, to say the least. She wasn't sure if she had gained a better understanding of herself or her opponent, though any perspective she might have gained on Ko would hold no long term significance to her. Not really.
She walked with a slight limp as she made her exit, trying to stand tall, though her injuries wouldn't allow it completely. Contrary to what her body was telling her, she actually felt quite...good. Accomplished despite her sub-par performance.
Ko just looked and watched her limp away. His face didn't change, so no one could tell if he was actually sorry for what he or not. His eyes lingered for a moment then he took his own exit after she had left the area. His hands slid into his pants pockets, as he wondered if his other teammates had done equally well. Beating up on a woman wasn't as quite the noble of a cause, but Iron Tempest was far from honorable assumptions.