Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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I'll Shock Your Box - COMPLETE

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Doc"]

What was a Fringe High Council member doing in a shock-boxing tournament?

She was close to getting a bounty lead from one Mister Berstein McFustle. A girl had to keep her day job. She just needed to win the next match to seal her meet and greet with the elusive Mister McFustle.

Taking a last swig of water, she paced around the ring, waiting for her opponent. The audience yelled and cat-called as they too, waited. A balding and slightly over-weight man who had eaten too many nerf burgers leaned in closer to the boxing ring ropes. "Is it just me or does her skin smell like apple-pie?"
 
Doc, or Kaiden. Doc was a troubled man, despite all the humor and bravado he displayed. Which is why, shock-boxing made sense. Not a lot of things in Doc's life made sense, his placement into Havoc squad, or his loss of his friends and mentors, with all of Havoc squad either dying or leaving. He and @[member="Steph Zenima"] (his longtime crush) were among the last true members of Havoc squad, and Doc didn't like that feeling at all. He glanced upwards, and tied his bandanna tight, before going outward. He wasn't popular here, but they knew of him. He hadn't lost a match, yet. He sauntered up the stairs, and glanced at his opponent. He sat in the corner, no trainer, nobody. He was utterly, and painfully, alone in his corner.

"No dragon this time?" Doc said coldly, staring at her, as much as he could, with the large scar making one side of his vision a bit of a chore. It was long, jagged, and it looked painful.

@[member="Kitt Solo"]
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Doc"]

A flicker of surprise crossed over her features before turning into a reflection of his own, cold-hard gaze. "I'm surprised you're not out invading a people that want to be left the kark alone." Fingers flexed within the gloves, myrtle-ellipses doing a once over of his figure. Strong. Solid. Battle experienced.

The bell rang; round one.

"You ready, sugar?" Hands came up swiftly. Shooting forward, her right glove remained up to protect her face as her left glove shot forward in a swift uppercut toward the scarred side of his face.
 
Doc's right hand shot up like a lightning bolt towards her incoming fist. It deflected it off course, and Doc responded by leaping into the air. He was a brutal combatant, known for his quick takedowns and even harder hits. Being literally one of the best soldiers the Republic had could do that for a person. He came under her, going for her wisely unguarded ribcage. He brought his left hand towards her right side, a cross that was difficult to block, and went directly for the broad side of her ribs. He didn't seem very humorous today.

"I never got your name."

@[member="Kitt Solo"]
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Doc"]

Her glove jolted as her hit was blocked. When he jumped into the air she was tempted to fling her body forward, shoulder first to knock the Republic soldier off balance. She quickly realized even with his balance tipped there would be a good chance it would feel like ramming a well-muscled wall, albeit not quite soaked in sweat yet. He moved fast - just like he did with the dragon.

After her missed hit, her left hand came back into a protective position, right elbow hugging low over her ribs with fist blocking her face, the position her right arm maintained the entire time. The young fringer didn't grow-up hanging out with Dad in the Corellian mechanics hangars for nothin' - even against her mom's better judgment. Of course practice boxing sessions with Dad were a little different than facing down a scrapper like Doc.

Right elbow remained glued to her ribs as she turned her body into the soldier and perpendicular instead of head-on. His glove smacked into her right forearm, sending a jolt up her limb. Better that than a cracked-rib.

"Kitt Solo," she grunted. "What about you, Sunshine?"

Her left arm exploded from her side as she released a cross-jab of her own for the left side of his face, turning her body back to mirror his. Right leg lifted to stomp on the top of his foot. Okay, so this was more like a variation of shock-boxing.
 
"Kaiden. But everyone else calls me Doc.."


The floor came at him fast, faster than her punch did. She knocked him to the floor, the side of his face exploding with pain. The stomp instead went between his legs, and he looked up at her. Bad idea to grapple with a highly-trained commando. Doc came upwards, and went to pull a flying armbar on the woman. The first leg went around her right hip, and the other went to go between her shoulder and head, and lock them in a death-grip of Commando proportions. He snarled like a lion, and had the roar to back it up. The roar, being the fact that she was about to be put into a very painful position if she didn't find a way to squirm out of it. If she managed to squirm her head around, he could still just slam her to the ground with the leg at her side.

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Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Doc"]

That was a nice name....

Arms pulled back instinctively as his legs shot forward. Whack-Oomph!!! So that's what it felt like to move faster than gravity. Blinking hard, she brought up her boxing glove with her thumb angled toward the ground through the gap in his thighs that were pressing her into the not-so-comfortable ground of the boxing ring and spun away from him.

Where he had size and muscle she had speed and maneuverability. Like a wet noodle, she slipped free and tucked her head close to his hip as she scrambled behind him. "It usually takes a few dinners to let a guy get this close to me," the dry quip left her lips as she went to pin him to the ground.

If successful, it would look like so...http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=jCfj69DEEnI
 
@[member="Kitt Solo"]


She escaped. Wow. He was NOT expecting that. No, really, that wasn't sarcasm, Doc really wasn't prepared for someone to escape from that. Bravo. Then he felt his foot give way, and then he felt himself collapse to the ground. She hadn't tried for his arms? That would mean a bad day for her.

"Sorry about this sweetheart."

Which, Doc really was. When she went to pin him, he turned in her grip, using his impressive physique to simply overpower her. He brought up his knees, aiming to destroy her chest and exposed ribcage. His hands went to work pounding at her back, and his arms came crashing down to her fragile body, and if successful, would most likely mean extreme pain, and hopefully a break from the grapple.

@[member="Kitt Solo"]
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Doc"]

A grunt of surprise - which, shouldn't have cleared her throat considering he was a strong and capable soldier - left her lips as he twisted in her grasp. There was something to be said about being a force user in a fight. There were some things she wasn't willing to consider to use in this fight. Call it a sense of wanting to be fair or pure and simple pride. Other things related to that invisible, magic mystery weren't that simple to 'turn-off.'

Like the warning system. Not to mention the raw power behind his hit to her chest. As if touching that Corellian pecan pie pan straight from the oven, she released him before she could get burned further as his knees connected.

She would trade the breast band, tank top, and shorts for her light armor right about now.

The crackle of his shock-glove whizzed past her ear as the momentum from his hit and her scramble took her out of reach from his back attacks. Quarter turning, her body was now perpendicular to his on the ground. With no hesitation, her skyward leg snapped forward, aimed to deliver a swift kick with the heel of her foot toward the side of his head.

If it connected, it would give her more time to scooch back and doggedly rise to her feet.
 
@[member="Kitt Solo"]

CRACK.

The foot impacted Doc's face, and he fell backwards, slamming to the mat harder than before. It took him a minute to recuperate, the hit was hard and in the right spot. His ear was ringing, and he was kind of dizzy. Hopefully, he wasn't concussed. He lay there for a moment, and then slowly rose to his feet. He put up his gloves, and the crowd gave off an enthusiastic roar as he stood up. He turned to face her, and then stared her down for a moment, his arms at his side. He spit some blood out to the side, and then beckoned her to get back up and come back at him.

"Come and get it, toots."
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Doc"]

Standing, she winced as her chest lifted. Elbows glued back to her sides, gloves up to protect her face. “I’m comin’ sweetpie.” The whistles and cat-calls from the crowd increased.

Lunging forward, she went for a double swift-jab toward his nose with her left hand, following-up the series with a right-hook toward his left ear. She remained light and fast, going for quick and fast strikes, very wary of his take-down methods.

It wasn't personal.
 
@[member="Kitt Solo"]

Doc weaved back and forth, never once bringing up his hands. He bobbed and weaved, but the hook caught him across the side of his face, instead of his ear. He dragged her fist across his head, reducing the impact. Doc took the extended arm as an opportunity, and then wrapped his arm over her elbow, and then brought his hand to grasp her wrist. The Republic Commando, was a beast and a vicious combatant. So what was to come next for the poor girl, probably wasn't pleasant. Doc felt the blood leak off of his head and face as he moved again, and grunted. The fight was dragging on, and neither seemed to be backing down.

Damn, it was a long time since he fought someone equal.
And why was he so turned on too?
Would it be wrong to ask her to dinner?

Probably. But that was after they beat the shit out of each other. Doc lifted up his legs, and with the arm lock in place, let go of her for just a moment, to get a good amount of room, and then, went to double-heel drop kick her, right in the chest.
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Doc"]


Sweat mingled together as she was pinned against him in the armlock, scarlet drops from his face leaving their mark on one strap of the tank that hugged the curve of her shoulder.


During that split second in the air when he released her, her glove immediately pushed off his sweaty chest, giving her the torque she needed. She grunted as his left heel slammed into her shoulder, his other foot hitting nothing but air. Arms swooped down to encircle his legs in a vice-like, bear-hug grip with legs spread wide and feet firmly planted on the blood spattered, ring floor.

With her weight tipped a little back from the strain of holding his legs captive in the air, she snapped forward with full intentions of slamming his back to the ground. Her forward momentum would bring herself tumbling on top of his chest with further intentions to straddle the commando and pin his arms to his body with the inside edges of her knees.
 
@[member="Kitt Solo"]

Doc felt his back impact the mat, and he groaned in protest, but he didn't have much time to move his arms, considering they were soon pinned. He looked up at her, and smiled, and spat out his mouth guard. He planted his feet flat against the floor, and then lifted up his lower body, and shoved her upwards with a thrust of his pelvis, and shot one knee up to her lower back, grunting.

"What're you doing after this?"

He said, as he continued to throw multiple attempts of knees and thrusting to get her the hell off of him.
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Doc"]

Lungs worked rapidly as she caught her breath, thighs squeezing tightly together. "Seriousl--oomph," the impact of his knee sent her upper body sprawling on top of him, chest to chest. Gloves instinctively fell to either side of his head as she pressed them down for balance on the mat and to keep herself from head on colliding with the commando, lest he wanted a haphazard and unintentional kiss.

A bead of sweat dripped off her nose and landed on the face she hovered over.

Momma always said not to ride a bucking bronco for longer than was necessary. Either that, or she heard it in a holovid. Thighs tightened around his sides and she pushed off the floor to swing her fists to box him in the ears.

"You thinking of ice cream and pie," she gasped as he bucked again," or something els-oomph?" A second hit to her back tipped her off balance and sent her sprawling to the side, thighs relinquishing their grip. Her knee immediately snapped forward in a swift jab toward his ribs.

The crowd was going wild.
 
@[member="Kitt Solo"]

Doc brought his hands up, blocking her impacting hits to his face. The roar of the crowd was like a drug to him, moreso than the adrenaline of the fight. He felt his ribcage get impacted by a knee, and a sharp exhalation of air commended the event rather well. He brought his hand up, pushing off and up onto his feet. He backed off for a moment, and would let her catch her breath and stand up as well. He had a particularly brutal plan on how to do it, it being beating the crap out of her.

"Dinner. Movie. Release of all this aggression, and making you sweatier than you already are."
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Doc"]

She harrumphed as she regained her footing. Gloved-hands carefully tugged up the hem of her shirt as she tried to alleviate some of the sweat from her face before letting the material fall back over her toned core. Deep purple bruises mixed with green painted the skin beneath her shirt.

Evidence of their dance.

"Let's see if you still feel that way after I knock you out, darlin.'" Doggedly raising up her gloves, she motioned Doc forward.
 
Doc smiled, and didn't say anything else as he marched forward. His left foot shot forward, but then swiftly came back down, in a feint move. His other leg came shooting forward, the shin of his leg coming for her left thigh, and his fist came, as it spun around, to smack her across the jaw as he moved forward. Sweat poured from his body, and moved downward on the hills and valleys of his well-defined chest, intertwining with the scars, and his tattoos becoming blurred by the light refracting from it.

He, personally, was enjoying their dance.

@[member="Kitt Solo"]
 

Kitt Solo

Alen Na'Varro's Ex
@[member="Doc"]

She stumbled back, the hit to her thigh throwing off her center of gravity. The bruise would soon follow. Weight adjusted and tipped to the balls of her feet as her arm shot across her face to block his hit to her jaw, his glove jarring and sliding across the sweat-slicked skin of her forearm. Right leg whipped back in a firm plant, arms remaining up to protect her face as she shifted her weight to her forward, left leg.

Her body snapped around, using the momentum of a twist to send a powerful roundhouse kick toward the lower side of his hot, sweaty chest followed by a swift uppercut with her right fist for the underside of his chin.

She definitely needed a shower after this.
 
@[member="Kitt Solo"]

The kick was put off course by his knee shooting upward, her leg drifting away from him. He took the chance to move backwards, the uppercut grazing the tip of his nose, rather than his chin. He grinned, and then shot downwards, and went to sweep-kick the one remaining leg she had on the ground. Doc was a powerful combatant, and he was vicious. Doc snarled, giving off the powerful aura of a fierce warrior. He was a warrior here, a gladiator against another. And he was sure to be victorious, or death take him.


Or a lack of consciousness, that too.
 

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