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[Caseyweederman]

...

[Megell]

...

[Queztatlapoca]

Teyld was in the mood for a fight, as it had been a while since his last. The last fight he was in left him with a nasty scar on the left side of his body, about six inches wide and nearly a foot across. Burned tissue. He made the infirmary leave that one behind, after all a berserk without scars was an inexperienced berserk.

He posted a notice on the bill board out front. It read as follows.

"Looking for a fight. Your settings and format."

Teyld was excited about this, and wanted to see who would turn up. He made his way back into the arena and worked his way around to a seat opposite the entrance of the building. He took a seat placing his new chain at his side. And he waited

[Caseyweederman]

...

[Megell]

Marcus stumbled into the arena, the posted challenge in one hand, and a bottle in other. Hw stood at the tops of the stair way that lead down towards the bottom of the arena. And slowly attempted to lower himself towards where a blurry object stood in the middle of the pit that he was decently sure was the arena. He took another step forward and stumbled a bit more. He decided it would not be a good idea to attempt to get down to the ring without some forum of additional balance and reached towards the pole that ran down besides the arena steps, A rail for the old and infirm. He wrapped both his arms around it and slowly pulled himself further down the steps towards the pit.

By the time he reached the pit, a bead or two of sweat had formed on his brow. More out of sickness and confusion then actual stress, the little bead ran down into Marcus? eyes and blinded him causing him to blink? lose his balance and fall forward down the remaining steps towards the arena and into the pit. He lied flat for a second, his face in the dirt before pushing himself off the ground to face his opponent, Teyld, or so he had been told. He swaggered back and forward as the man in front of his slowly came in and out of focus. (He wished they would all stop doing that.) Reaching out he attempted to show the challenge that resided in his hand, however because of his poor grip the paper fell clean out of his hand and to the ground. Marcus bent over and tried to pick it up, and rather fell backwards onto his rear and stood rubbing his rear.

Marcus attempted to stand again, he succeeded in getting to his feet but he stumbled a bit forward moving past the challenge slip which was now trodden into the earth, he however didn?t realize this and continued to look for it on the ground for a few more seconds until he realized it was behind him. He picked it up successfully this time, stumbled towards Teyld and slurred out a ?Shooo, I hearrr ya wand tah fight!?

((I was too lazy to do a real description of the character. But he?s 5.9, 130 pounds, 21 years old, has black hair that?s in a messy shag. His face is flushed red. His eyes are covered by the extent of his hair, but they would be red in colour. He is wearing a pair of baggy jeans, no shoes, and a dress shirt that is partly tucked in and has a university vest over it. The vest is a brown black plaid pattern. Basically at first glance? he looks like a drunk university student who is DEFINITELY in the wrong place.))

[Queztatlapoca]

Looking down at the drunk, Teyld could only shake his head. "it is true i posted that challenge. But i hope you are aware of what you are getting into." Teyld took a relaxed stance and asked. "What are your restrictions?"He would feel truly sorry for harming one so intoxicated, but if it was necessary he would.

[Megell]

Marcus thought for a moment reflectively, staring at a spot about 2 meters in front of him. He closed his eyes for a second, stumbled a bit backwards and hiccupped. He moved his hands forward to regain his balance and began to focus on his feet.

He managed in the middle of this epic act to mumble out ?Areena? The pith? the Restrictuns, type hun and two. (1&2 no magic, no weapons.) Stumbling forward after saying this, he attempted to put his fists into a boxing like position. However he stumbled forward and lost his balance and fell face first into the dirt again.

He spoke and he pushed himself up ?Rite ladies, lets get thus party starthed!?

[Queztatlapoca]

"Very well" Teyld thought. He then threw his chain away to the right side and rushed forward, throwing a right handed hey maker at the point where collar bone meets the base of the neck.

[Megell]

As the punch came veering in on Marcus, he stumbled backwards and fell again, his body slipping backwards so his chest would only take the barest flick from the haymaker. At the same he fell backward onto his back in a sort of rolling falling motion. As he hit the ground he shot forward his feet in a upward thrust, aimed at Teyld?s own chest, at an angle which, if it continued would easily break the lower ribs.

[Queztatlapoca]

As Marcus' kick came up Teyld rolled around in a clockwise manner so he was perpendicular to his foe. At the same time he used his right heel to deliver a sweep kick to kidney of the prone opponent.

[Megell]

Shocked at the sudden turn of events, Marcus moved his right hand across his body to grapple the foot as it came in close towards the body. He guarded the kick then wrapped his hand around it and used his arms strength to hold the foot for a brief second. Not wasting a breath, he took a large swig from his bottle of alcohol, dropped the near empty container and reached into his vest pocket pulling out a lighter in one clean movement. Inhaling deeply from his nose, and shoving the lighter in front of his mouth, he lit the thing and rapidly spat out the contents past the flame.

The result was a sizeable fireball being launched into Teyld?s face point blank.

Marcus released Teyld?s foot and jumped backwards twice as rapidly as he could to put some distance between his foe and himself. He didn?t however take the time to see if his attack had actually landed. But either way, it would have at least given him escape.

((Didn?t want to say if it had hit or not, your call.))

[Queztatlapoca]

((Well Teyld's back is facing Marcus, so it won't make a direct hit with his face. One side of it probably, as he would be looking back over his shoulder at his foe but not a 100% hit))

"shit." was all Teyld could think. He did the only thing he could do as the drunk spat the fireball. He closed his eyes, threw up his right arm to protect his face, and fell towards the incoming fireball to lessen the time it was in contact with him. He felt the searing heat rush around and past him. Teyld brought his left forearm in front of himself to break his fall.

Brushing aside the constant throb along the underside of his right arm, Teyld pushed himself up to his left arm and toes ((football stance)), let out a guttural growl, and started on a collision course for the quite capable drunk.

[Megell]

From his crouching position Marcus was caught a bit off guard as Teyld came racing directly at him. Perhaps jumping backwards in a straight line wasn?t the best of choices for his win here today. Still he had no time to think of a better option, he wasn?t physically as strong as this tank, he would have to fight smart. Push his legs out from out from under him, he frog hopped rapidly back several times to extend a little more distance between himself and the Titan. That was until Marcus back hit something hard. He had run into the arena wall clumsily, he looked over at Teyld who was still charging full tilt at him. He moved and inch forward and readied himself.

[Queztatlapoca]

As Teyld came to the nine foot mark he leaped. As he landed he would use his right elbow in a vertical downward strike to the shoulder of his foe, immediately afterwards would throw his left shoulder with all of his weight, as a follow up, into Marcus' chest and knew if it connected solidly that Marcus' sternum and spine might suddenly be fused, as well as other adverse side effects.


((edited for spelling))

Edited by Queztatlapoca, 10 June 2007 - 04:47 PM.

[Megell]

Without sufficient time to actually move out of the way, Marcus had to take Teyld?s first blow with a little less grace then he would have preferred. The mans sizeable elbow came smashing down on top of his shoulder, buckling Marcus down into the ground through the sheer weight of the strike alone. Now crowtching nearer to the ground, Marcus saw another strike coming directly for his sternum, he however didn?t let this one come close to hitting him. Rather because of his new prone position he jumped clean under his foes legs.

Turning around and hopping backwards as he went, Marcus raised his hand up to his face and whipped the persperation off his brow. This was tiring him out very fast. He would need to change some things around.

This time, when he reached the other back wall, he jumped rather then getting stuck on it, and landed in a swat on the top of the wall. He stayed there for a second sqwatting, breathing in deeply and exhaling rapidly, this fight was taking a lot out of him. He spoke this time, most of the slur that was in his voice gone due to the surge of adrenalin, yet as he spoke his voice was rasp and sharp due to the amount of physical strain he was under, ?Your as good as they said you?d be. Shit you arena elites are a tough crowd.? As he spoke he began to reach down and pull up the hedges of his jeans to show a set of weights that were fastened to the bottom of his legs. He pulled them off and dropped them to the ground in front of him. Each one as it hit the ground produced a massive thud and left behind a crater. He spoke again, ?I guess I really shouldn?t have limited myself off the bat like that.? He reached up to the vest he was wearing, pulled it off and threw it over his shoulder into the spectator?s benches behind him. The arena shook a bit as it hit the ground, the benches it hit were completely levelled. He panted and spoke to himself under his breath?

?Either way, two tons was a little much for the start of the fight.?

[Queztatlapoca]

Telyd watched the spectacle without showing any outward reaction. He was however quite impressed that the little man could move so quickly with that amount of weight strapped to him. "Let's see how well you can really do then" he said as he sauntered towards the center of the pit. "Let us see if you can defeat the beast you see before you!" He bellowed. There he stood, in a defensive posture, breathing slow and steady, ready to react to anything the functioning drunk might throw at him.

[Megell]

Marcus? lips played into a wicked grin on the corners of his mouth. He just down at Teyld for a split second, slowed his breathing for a split second, and then tensed his leg muscles. He wouldn?t be able to go on like this much more, as he had already realized, this man was beyond him In most categories, especially endurance, however he could tip the scale by taking advantage of his foes slowness.

Compared to his quickness now.

Without a second thought, Marcus jumped clean off his parapet and ran all out at Teyld, he was there in a blink of an eye, now unhindered by the weight that slowed him. He hopped at the last second and opened up into a air bound kick aimed at the mans face.

[Queztatlapoca]

Surprise. That was what was etched across Teyld's face as the flying drop kick connected with his face. The force of the blow disoriented him, and forced him stumbling back four feet. The pain wasn't the worst he had experienced, but he could taste the blood in his mouth and knew that at least his nose was broken. He cursed himself silently for being so arrogant. But the fight was far from over. And this man was getting on his nerves. As Teyld's face contorted in rage, he charged forward with a left uppercut, followed by a right hook that carried all of his weight. At the same time he let out a cry so primal, so primitive, that few men had the nerve to continue to fight the thing that unleashed that noise.

[Megell]

Teyld?s punch at this point was so slow; Marcus had more then enough time to respond to it. As he was in the air, a block might not be the best of options to keep the fight under his control, rather pushing himself off the man own fist might do the trick. As the punch came closer, Marcus pushed his left hand over it and did a rapid summersault over the head of his foe. He was past him clear in a second because of his new heightened speed.

He came to land about two meters away from Teyld, his body inverted from the summersault, he hand to catch himself with his hands, then flip his body around to bring his feet safely to the ground. He slid along the floor the entire time, ending in a squatting position about five meters from where the giant still caught of by his speed was recovering. Marcus noticed that the ground where he had slid was covered in a light dusting of red.

The skin on his hands and feet had apparently been cut to ribbons by sliding along the ground and left a trail of blood. Also his foot, the one he had nailed Teyld with in the face was in immense pain. Probably from the fact that he was now hitting so hard, the bones in his feet and hands would crack and shatter on impact. A grimace of a smile played on to his lips, if he kept this fight up much longer he would be dead from the shear amount of physical beating his body was taking from his lack of control.

As Teyld began to turn towards his direction to refocus himself on his prey, Marcus took off again, running straight at him. He was there again in a flash, but rather then attacking with a kick or strike, he slammed his feet into the ground and then changed his direction, kicking up a cloud of dust into Teyld?s face. Then with his momentum now changed, Marcus took off to about two meters to Teyld?s right, sliding for the briefest second to turn up another massive cloud of dust, then he ran at his foes right side at top speed, passing it to end up on his left side, and stopping there once again kicking up another huge cloud of dust from the arena floor. As he slid to a stop this time, he spun his foot left outermost foot around into a long but incredibly fast roundhouse kick aimed at Teyld?s chest.

[Queztatlapoca]

As Marcus charged at Teyld yet again, Teyld flexed in preparation for the attack that would be coming because he knew he had not a chance to block it. But instead of a strike Teyld was almost instantly surrounded by a dust cloud. This only heightened the already angry behemoths rage. Then a fraction of a second later, and seemingly out of nowhere a foot slammed solidly into the big man's chest. It knocked a grunt out of the man and pushed him back a step, and it felt like at least one rib broke. The moment it connected Teyld turned his head to face his foe and went into a battle frenzy like few have seen. His left arm swung up in a back handed uppercut, under the leg used for the roundhouse. He followed up with a straight right, keeping himself moving towards Marcus. He threw another left uppercut, this time more traditional, then came across with a right elbow aimed for his head. He then came up with a left knee to smash into Marcus' chest followed by an attempt to grab the man with both massive hands by the neck.