Lay your head down (open brawl thread)

[Qhorin Solas]

The Wookie fell, dead. The man treated his death with a great deal more reverence and respect than the others in the pit might. Witnessing that, Cronos felt better about his choice. This was a man who understood. He wasn't some mindless brawler, happy to pound flesh black and blue, but a true fighter, a man who sought challenge. Cronos endevoured to give him such.

Speed had always been his staple. He'd always been slight, leaning more towards slender than bulky. His was a wiry strength, best purposed towards fast, debilitating strikes. Mobility, fluidity, flexibility, aggression; these were the principles that governed his technique, be the fight hand to hand or blade to blade.

He approached slowly, almost cautiously, knees bent, muscles loose. He hadn't noticed that [member="Vheissu Ireles"]'s reach was significantly longer than his, but he had Cronos by about forty pounds of muscle. The Force could only enhance one's strength so much. Grappling with such a man would be foolhardy, he surmised. Maybe even suicidal, he thought, eyes flickering down to the dead Wookie

He dipped his head just enough to be respectful, then snapped his hips forward and launched a kick at Vheissu's thigh, testing the waters before he dived in.

 

[Poro]

He watched as the man before him cruelly slapped the beautiful, if harried, woman who was holding him. This was no romance! This was domestic violence of the cruelest kind! What was it that the old crazy man had told him to do? Bite people?...Hmm...Poro didn't really have much in the way of biting...But he did have paws! They had to be good for SOMETHING!

[member="Fable Merrill"]'s grip slightly weakened for a small period of time and that's when Poro took his chance to strike with a vengeance. He pounced out of her hands and came bearing down on [member="Lancem Cuiléin"]'s face. He landed with the cuddly force of an ice cream sundae...which means that it his landing felt nice more than anything. He could feel something wet start to get on his fur, but that didn't deter our brave hero!

He had landed smack dab in the middle of his face, his paws and body covering his eyes and his vision....

 

[Fable Merrill]

[member="Lancem Cuiléin"] [member="Poro"]

He was still talking. She was going to rip-

smack

Did he really just slap-

SMACK

TWICE?! Fabula's cheeks stung, sure, but she was more shocked than actually injured. At least from the first slap. The backhand actually hurt quite a bit, and she'd bitten the side of her own mouth at the same time, so that was great. Now her face was covered in blood, and her mouth was filling with blood and honestly, it could be worse, all things considered. It was just blood. HER blood, which meant it was gross clone blood. Clone of a clone, in fact - Fable was sometimes surprised that the stuff in her veins was still red. Maybe what he'd been saying was some cheesy line like 'pull yourself together' or something. Wasn't going to work, because she simply didn't want to be pulled together, but now her cheeks stung almost as much as whatever passed for pride.

The momentary lapse of concentration was enough for her fuzzy little ward to leap from her hand and deposit himself on the sleezy guy's face. Whether the little creature was cognizent of the advantage it'd given her or not, Fable couldn't let the chance pass to inflict some retributive damage. She might not take herself very seriously, but damned if she was about to let someone else have that honor.

Fable leaned back, clasped her hands together above her head, and brought them down like the hurty-part of a girl-powered sledge towards Lancem's sternum. Maybe she'd break some ribs? A sternum? Maybe he had some weird alien biology that'd make that ineffective? She'd already smashed his stones, so that was likely. The good news was that he kept doing things that pissed her off, so she had plenty of anger to work out all over his durable, supine form.

And she'd keep bringing her interlocked fists down on his chest until he was taken out, managed to stop her, or an altruistic somebody pried her off of him.

 

[Lancem Cuiléin]

That was satisfying was the only thing that came to mind for a moment. It had been satisfying, and it didn't cause extreme amounts of personal damage to the person, wouldn't want to damage your food after all. Food, that was a funny thought. Here sat a living and thinking being and the only thing he could think of was that she was cute and would make good food. The mind was funny sometimes like that, what with it's dark humor.

Something went wrong though, he felt it as a slight flickering of a life-form in the room. It wasn't even a completely conscientious effort at sensing the others around him, in fact most of it had been shut off a bit so as not to acknowledge every single blow in the room going on. This was different, he felt the life-force of a being leave it's corporal form and couldn't help but feel cheated and a little mad. Someone had just killed someone else, they weren't following the rules. "Someone just died." He spoke simply to the woman on top of him.

Then something fuzzy and small went onto his face and he couldn't help but feel a bit surprised. It wasn't a dangerous thing in itself, though he recognized how it would give a huge tactical advantage to the chick straddling him. "You threw a fuzzy snowball looking animal at me? Really? Didn't think you'd stoop to such low levels of adorable interference, hold on, let me try and grab my pet mouse and we can have a play date."

Something heavy and painful slammed into her sternum, driving the breath from his lungs in an instant and causing him to lurch hard, likely sending the thing on his face tumbling. He breathed heavily, trying to regain control before the next smack cracked into the same place and he felt the hot pain of a fractured rib. He grunted in horrible pain as he suckled in breath as though he were dying. He could see now the woman pulling up for another blow to the same area, he needed to prevent that or else he wasn't going to last another round of this.

He waited til her hands raised up once more for another blow before lashing his hand forward, two fingers outstretched in a blow that would hopefully catch her in the center of her throat. It wasn't meant to kill her, though with enough force it certainly could, rather it was meant simply to incapacitate and maybe throw her off of him. If that didn't throw her off he'd have to try something else. "I did not order the meal you just delivered, if you'd be...a dear and go back to replace...it i'd be quite happy with my service." He huffed out, pausing occasionally to take quick breaths.

[member="Fable Merrill"] | [member="Poro"]

 

[Fable Merrill]

@Poro @Lancem Cuiléin


One hit!

And another!

A satisfying crunch! If she could get one more in, she'd DEFEND! A precision throat jab! Fable recoiled, but didn't mitigate all of the blow. She was forced to finally roll off of Lancem, coughing volently and clutching her neck. A bystander took this opportunity to football kick Fable one in the side and send her sprawling several feet away, curling up momentarily. That was a surprise. She had maybe forgotten that there were, at one point, about fifty people fighting to the cheering crowd and roaring music. And they were just as opportunistic as she was. Ouch. Ouch, ouch ouch. On your feet, clone. You can hurt later.

The guy who kicked her advanced on Fable slowly - he was a towering (for a Rodian) pile of bad attitude and swagger. Fable knew him well. He showed up early to every fight, talked smack for as long as he could, and managed to impress a great deal of nobody. She waited for him to do the obvious as she got to all fours; as soon as he lifted his leg, she lunged forward, wrapped her arms around that leg, and stood, sending Mr. Opportunistic Rodian slamming back-first to the floor. Move quickly, don't stick to him. Wrapping one leg around his, Fable twisted her whole body and parted Rodian leg from Rodian hip socket. Target incapacitated. Okay. Breath.

Taking a deep breath to clear her airway, Fable turned back to the greasy dude who'd finally stopped trying to pick her up with an eager grin on her blood-covered face. So what if she'd just taken a shot to the kidneys and could only see out of one eye? This was the fight she wanted. The cannon fodder could wait. "Somebody finally decided to take me serious." She growled cheerfully, as cheerfully as a young woman could growl, spitting a sizeable glob of mouthblood off to one side.

Then she brought her fists up, giving Lancem the chance to get to his feet before they continued. Her stance was basic, but effective: hands close to her body, legs parted, knees bent - the staple stance of a shockboxer.

 

[Lancem Cuiléin]

The weight had lifted off of him, finally he could breathe semi-normally. Something like that anyhow, in reality he was still a little bit wheezy from the past blow. It hurt a great deal as well, and standing up was a challenge. Thankfully, the fight that woman was having with the Rodian was giving him enough time to stand up and ready himself for what was definitely going to be a continuation of their previous encounter.

He didn't much like the Rodian, it didn't seem entirely fair to punt that woman like that, even if she had just beaten the stuffing out of him and fractured one of his ribs. The Rodian definitely didn't appear too well either as prey, he was pathetic even if he was quite large. When Lancem finally stood he found him writhing in pain from a broken leg or hip, he couldn't tell which. The woman taunted slightly as he glared at her, the adrenal rush evident in the way he couldn't keep still. "I guess I have haven't I, maybe I can go over there and we can have a long boring discussion about the proper way of treating someone who acted nicely to you. I suppose not, it doesn't really matter does it?"

He began stepping forward, appearing to almost limp for a few moments before he stood up straighter, still flickering about with the intensity his hyper form gave. He reached the Rodian, writhing still and planted the back of his foot into the things jaw with a satisfying crunch and splatter of blood. The jaw shifted direction almost entirely, a bit of it poking slightly into the opposite side as the Rodian screamed, blood gushing out. "Didn't quite see you there."

"Let's be completely honest here. You're going to hurt me, i'm going to hurt you. You're going to like it, i'm going to like it. Then i'm probably going to buy you a drink, you'll refuse it. I'll get upset, you'll already be upset. Finally i'll go on my own way and see you again in the middle of some sort of war." He spewed out his exposition with rapidity, already beginning his forward approach to the woman.

"I'll remember you, don't think I won't. I remember everyone I meet who is interesting enough, and it's been a long while since i've gotten a good fight. I think it's about time we end things though, don't you? Wouldn't want your little body getting hurt would you? I suspect you won't be primping yourself up after this, going to show your wounds like a scar aren't you? I best give you some good war stories then." He finished as he began to break into a run towards the woman, surprisingly fast despite his injuries.

He would stop a few feet out of reach with his run, apparently pulling back his arm for a power blow to the woman's gut. He falsified the force he put into the blow, though he appeared to follow it, coming into range of the woman. In that instant his left hand would snap upwards, knuckles crunched together in a rapid smack that would hopefully land on the woman's already broken nose. If it landed the other hand would quickly find itself jabbing towards the same target. Each hit was rapid, not focusing on power, though the Anzati still pulled off enough of that even without them.

[member="Fable Merrill"] | [member="Poro"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Cronos Aegir"]

He breathed in, air filling him with energy, purpose and speed. Time slowed down to a screeching halt from the perspective of the warrior, every sound raised itself in several orders, visions became more vivid, Vheissu found himself alive again and he would use the spirits for his purpose.

A leg flew forward hitting the forged warrior against his thigh, a grunt escaped his lips as he accepted the brunt of the pain and channeled it to further awaken his flames. Vheis’ left arm snapped down and locked the offending leg in a grip, cutting away any possibility of escape for his enemy and immediately followed up by punch down at the kneecap, shattering it beneath his fist. Howls of pain and agony followed, this only further enticed Ireles and the flames burned it all.

Vheissu blinked and per instinct he moved into the personal space of Chronos, this served two purposes: at first it would blunt most of the kick, which now landed on his thigh, but with far less kinetic potential than before. It also afforded him the opportunity to get in quick and personal, left hand would go straight for the solar plexus.

Hit right? It would at the least punch the air out of his opponent, which he would use as an opportunity to follow up with a second punch, hooking a heavy right hand in Chronos’ left side. Lower region which didn’t have the protection of full set of ribs.

 

[Qhorin Solas]

They attacked almost simultaneously. The man stepped forward, negating much of the force of Cronos' kick. A fist slammed into the blond's gut, textbook in its execution. He tightened his stomach in the moment before impact.

A grunt escaped him when the blow landed. He stumbled, caught himself with the foot he'd kicked with, wheezing as his diaphragm spasmed, trying and failing to draw a ragged breath. There was more movement -- another incoming punch. Instinct urged him to draw his arms tight to his body to better defend his torso.

The punch glanced off his elbow and connected with his left side. He had tightened his stomach again, to help mitigate the blow, but he was still reeling from the first blow. He grit his teeth. The spike of pain gave him focus. Motivation.

His right hand darted forward; a knuckle punch to the throat. He twisted his hips with the punch, and used the torque as he drew back to lash out with a swift, sharp elbow at his foe's temple.

[member="Vheissu Ireles"]