Whitewash|Brer

The many towns and cities tucked in the crevices of the world, uncontrolled by any formal power. Some are friendly. Others, not so much.

Whitewash|Brer

PostPosted by Hanya » Thu May 23, 2013 8:21 pm

Peach City.

A town once known for its beautiful architecture, classy women, and refined sense of living. It was almost amazing what twenty years and a series of unfortunate events could do to a place. Located on a large island off the coast of the Shinobi world, it found itself home to bth criminalsof the shinobi and more seafaring variety. A single large tsunami wiped the rest of the population out, leaving only the most hardened of sea dogs and scum with some of the most fertile land around. What did that mean for peach city.

Rot.

The sounds of grunts and cheers erupted from behind a large building as a young man turned a sharp corner. Almost immediately he was bombarded with the backs of a hundred or so people, all yelling, shoving, and trying their hardest to see into the shoddily built arena. A bit of shoving and pushing on his own part found him to the front of the crowd, and to a large set of doors, the entrance to the venue. A single large man, carrying an equally large sword, stood looking sternly, checking tickets, taking money, and letting all those who could afford a real seat in.

"Where do I sign up?"

The sound came from the rather unremarkable young man, who was eyed up and down by the larger man before he burst out in laughter.

"Right through here.... This way to your death...."

Reaching in his shirt, he pulled out a white ticket with the number 12 on it. Still chuckling, he handed it to the younger man, and for an instant the youngers wrist was exposed, a marking of a triad of triangles showing just barely. Almost instantly he stopped laughing, his face getting quite serious, and a bead of sweat dripping down his neck.

"Don't let your heart give away your fear big fella."


And just like that, the kid with smokey grey eyes and hair as black as night entered the fray.
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Re: Whitewash|Brer

PostPosted by Brera » Thu May 23, 2013 8:55 pm

"Left! Left! Right! Cross! Guard! Guard! Duck! Up-" The brash voice barked out orders.

Complying, Souka did as he was instructed. Throwing punches with ferocious force. A quick left. A second followed before a quick right and a crossing left. Bringing his arms up he blocked the two incoming strikes with his bicep and forearm before dropping low and stepping into the trainers own guard. Nearly scraping against the ground he fired a rocketing right uppercut- stopping just an inch from making contact.

"Good! Good! You're ready!" Stepping back the man gave Souka a pat on his back. Sliding off the punching gloves he examined his hands. Sore. "You're really something else. Even with the pads my hands are still stinging. No worries. You should get ready. Your match is coming up."
Still looking at his hands, he gave Souka a stern look. "You better win, I'm betting this weeks earnings on you"

"I always do!" Grunting, Souka threw a few more jabs before letting his arms rest at his sides. "Any word on who my opponent is?" Stretching his legs he dropped down into a squat.

"Nope. Some new kid I think." Turning away the man left the cold concrete room.

"Huh, well this should be interesting."

---

Making his way to the arena Souka moved through the crowd with relative ease. No one dared push against him or blocked his path. And those who did quickly corrected their mistake upon realizing it was Souka who they were up against. Not that it was hard to distinguish Souka from others. His large stature was complimented by his extremely fit physique. It wasn't as if his shaggy white hair and shimmering yellow eyes weren't enough to set him apart from the masses.

Watching the remaining minutes of the fight ahead of of his own his feral yellow eyes examined the bloody pulps flopping about. Pathetic. What a poor display. He thought to himself, peeling his attention off the men and turning to the crowd. They didn't care. Not in the elast bit. As long as blood was shed they would be happy. What a disgrace. But what did that mean for him? This was the only place he felt at ease. This was his home away from home.
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Re: Whitewash|Brer

PostPosted by Hanya » Thu May 23, 2013 9:24 pm

"OH! What a spectacular end to that fight. Bulldozer Jones is A one man Wrecking MACHINE!

The overenthused announcer hammed it up as the crowd ate every word he threw at them. The last fight had ended in a stunning knockout of the "Challenger", courtesy of an uppercut that sent him flying head over heels. The countout of some of the lesser fights wasn't even an option as the gut wrenching crack of head on ground silenced the crowd for an entire moment, a pool of blood slowly painting the arena red. Then, the man was drug out by his feet, probably to the morgue.

"And Now! We have contestants 9 and 10 ready to go. It is the undefeated tiger Souka versus.... who... they did what! Well get somebody else... Fine!....The undefeated tiger of peach city SOUKA, versus... Shin Yoshi...the poor sap.

The boys eyes widened with confusion as his name was called an entire match early. Two "ushers" moved im on and along, his discontent apparent as he snatched away from one of the men, causing the other to reach for him. Two seconds, and two pops later, and the man was curled on the ground, his arm and hand both broken.

[badword].... i'm supposed to kill this Tien guy.... Now i have to fight some other guy..... [badword] [badword] [badword]... [badword] it. Ill just kill him, then kill the other guy. [badword] it all.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pack of cigareetes, taking two out and lighting them both at the same time.

As he crossed the arches into the view of the crowd, he was met with a mix of cheers, jeers, and outright bood. these people were so uncivilized it was crazy. Just animals caught up in the frenzy.

"Lets get this over with."
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Re: Whitewash|Brer

PostPosted by Brera » Thu May 23, 2013 9:50 pm

"We really need to work on these titles..." Stepping forward the crowd around him moved. Anyone unfamiliar with the Arena would think he'd been a carrier of the plague as the people scurried away.

In. Hold. Out.
Filling his lungs, the stale air of the arena sparked his muscle memory. His body knew exactly what it was in store for.
With a graceful leap, Souka landed squarely in the center of the arena. Lowering his body he brought his arms in. Clenching his fist every vein in his body surged with new life. Throwing his arms into the air rallied a earth shattering roar from the crowd. This was his arena. This was his home.

Making eye contact with his opponent he stepped into his corner. He was small. Atleast smaller then himself. Though it would be even more of a surprise if he was bigger. Nonetheless Souka knew full well of the possibilities of man. No matter how big or small, everyone posed a threat if underestimated. And he would not be putting himself in jeopardy.

"I hope you're prepared. " Taking off his shirt he tossed it to the side before reaching into his pockets. Pulling forth a pair of black finger-less gloves. Each glove had characters written across the knuckles reading 'Bow Down' & 'Beg for Mercy'. "Coming at me like your life depends on it." His words were cold without a single sense of humor. It was just as he said. If you didn't fight with all your heart then you were disgracing the arena. A taboo in the eyes of Souka and the countless people who stood just feet away on the outside of the arena.

Bringing fist to light, he raised his guard in preparation for battle.
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Re: Whitewash|Brer

PostPosted by Hanya » Fri May 24, 2013 8:59 am

The crowd was distracting, more so the noise than all of the people moving. He liked peace and quiet, and arena's were not his thing, not that it mattered to him either way though. He had lucked up in that his opponent seemed to be the flashy kind, the kind that played to the crowd and left himself open for the sake of entertainment, but then again, he could have been wrong. As much as this guy screamed a non threat, there was something about his eyes, about the pulsing of his heartbeat, it gave Yoshinko a bit of worry. Still, a single long drag from his duet of cigarettes brought a rushed calm to him, and he tossed them both to the sides of him, the embers creating tiny smoke trails that disappeared to the sky.

He assumed a fighting stance of his own, a lose one where his arms and legs could move freely and react, where his hands could block or strike in an instant, where his body could brace or dodge in less time than it would take to say it. He was ready, and now he would wait on his opponent.
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Re: Whitewash|Brer

PostPosted by Brera » Fri May 24, 2013 9:53 am

"Good!" Those would be the final words uttered from his lips before the matches end.

Moving in with speed, he lowered his hulking body, sinking his shoulders down and tucking his chin. His posture resembled that of a boxer or mixed martial arts fighter than a shinobi taught in the schools of finesse and technique. A truth in all rights. Souka did not fight utilizing a single flashy style, but like a savage beast. Tearing away at his opponent until theirs nothing left but a bloody corpse.

Beginning his assault he threw a quick combination. Not too fast nor too slow. Left jab. Right jab. Right jab. A left knee-feint leading into a lunging straight right. Even moving at half-speed he still had remarkable speed for a man of his size.

He wouldn't press onward, only keep his guard. Maybe it was because something about this opponent peaked his interest. Or the fact that he wanted to give the crowd a good show. Nonetheless, he'd wait for the boys counter before deciding on how worthy this boy was.
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Re: Whitewash|Brer

PostPosted by Hanya » Fri May 24, 2013 10:15 am

He was the wind, and is opponent was water. They both flowed, they both bent, and they both held the potential for devestating destruction, but as Souka's movements sought to impact him, his movements only sought to give open space. His head and body weaved and dodged the blows, his hand shoving against the feigning knee as his torso revolved around Souka. It was a perfect opportunity to strike, and yet he simply continued on, moving about his opponent, grazing his back with the palm of his hand before giving just a bit more space, only a step or two at max. he could feel the power of the man's punches, he felt the air around him being displaced and commanded out of the way. His body would definitely yield to the waves of Souka's power, that was of course if they would ever collide.

He waited for his opponent to right himself, to find his center again. He wanted to know just how well this guy could hit a moving target, or how well he could dodge, but he had to be sure of himself first, Yoshinko had to know that he could outmaneuver this guy, and that he would move as he predicted. There was no point in going in for the kill, only to find that your opponent has some sort of defense mechanism or resistance you didn't foresee.

All variables had to be accounted for.
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Re: Whitewash|Brer

PostPosted by Brera » Fri May 24, 2013 10:57 am

Like a snake the boy slithered his way away from his assault. The crowd seemed to have quieted down quite a bit. Perhaps they were confused. Having expected the fight to end after the first move; yet it continued. Starting with only a few, the cheers soon began to spread like wildfire. It was clear as day. This was going to be a good one.

Pouring gasoline on the ember burning deep within, Souka dropped his guard for a split second. Whipping his head side to side a loud 'crack' could be heard. Shaking his arms out, he loosened up his arms, relaxing them as chakra flowed throughout his limbs. Show time!

Moving in he swayed from left to right as he closed the distance between them. Once again he would throw a quick combination. Left straight. Right straight. Right straight. Left hook. Right hook. As he threw each punch he moved in closer, centimeter by centimeter, inch by inch. His last too hooks setting up for the real attack.

This time, a open left palm strike- the feint. Closing his left hand he would manipulate the gravity of the boy, dragging him in as he pulled his left hand back. Meanwhile his right hand would come across, attempting to grab ahold of the boys head before sending him skipping across the arena floor like a stone. [Yo-Y o'ki]

Spoiler:
| Y o - Y o'ki |< The Yo-Yo >
Rank: C
Range: Close 0-2m
Jutsu Type: Kekkei Genkai
Elemental Affinity: Gravity
Clan: Asura
Description:
A simple technique that involves nearly no preparation prior to it's use. Charging at a target the user will extend one of their arms outwards as if to grapple their target; a feint. While they extend their arm outward they will manipulate the gravity which their body exerts in order to draw their target in. Once their target has been drawn in they will proceed with a follow-up. Most commonly a simple punch or knee will be enough. But this technique opens up the chance for combination attacks.
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Re: Whitewash|Brer

PostPosted by Hanya » Fri May 24, 2013 11:25 am

Again, they faced each other, this time the larger man lightening the load on his feet, trying to become fluid like the sea, even ebbing and flowing just like the tide, but yet again, he threw out a similar combo. Left, right, right, left, right. It was the same combination as before, though he had replaced a knee with a left hook. it was at this point that Yoshinko had had enough, and was coiling himself to strike, inching downwards with every movement, not just avoiding. As the last hook, the right, came in, he moved his body thoroughly to the left, and slid himself forward, past his opponents arm, towards his shoulder, sliding his elbow up the man's arm, and towards his face.

Souka's open handed strike would meet air, but, it would also shift his body away from Yoshinko's strike. Like a coiled snake though, Yoshinko had already thought of his next strike, a backfist to his opponents head with the same arm. The shift in both their bodies caused a small opening between the two though, one that could appropriately have been utilized, but instead was simply a retreat point. Or at least it had intended to be.

Yoshinko felt a strange sensation, something akin to inertia, moving him towards his opponent, whos right arm had found itself recocked, and loaded to strike at him yet again, and this time he was absolutley not footed or positioned in a way to dodge it. Did he risk taking the hit and possibly finding himself out cold or worse?

Nah, not this guy.

Because he was on the outside, Souka's hand had to redirect itself to strike at him, and that redirection took time, it took energy, and most of all, it took effort. As his hand went back, Yoshinko went down, Crouching and bending at the knees before aiming a powerful double open handed strike at Souka's midsection, praying to god that his predictions were right, at that the blow was aimed for his upper body and head region, and not his stomach area. If it was so, it would be a strike aimed at the weakpoint of a strike. If he was wrong, his face would be tasting fist pretty spot on.
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Re: Whitewash|Brer

PostPosted by Brera » Fri May 24, 2013 11:58 am

Eyes still fixed on Yoshinko's movements he watched as he weaseled his way out. He was quick. Much quicker then Souka himself, and that was fine. Souka was used to this. Afterall one thing his large stature granted him, besides brutish strength was durability; and plenty of it.

Landing the first strike, Yoshinko surprising both Souka and the crowd. Though it wasn't much of a hit on Souka's scale. The open palm feeling more like a slap across sunburnt skin; stinging-but no real damage. Reacting purely on instinct Souka quickly delivered a swift low kick. It wasn't meant to damage; it was more like swatting at a fly.

Repositioning himself his eyes fell upon the region struct. Nothing. A perfect example of an Asuran's hardened body. Raising his guard again, Souka gestured Yoshinko on. Shaking out his arms, he awaited his opponents next move.
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Re: Whitewash|Brer

PostPosted by Hanya » Sun Jun 02, 2013 11:29 am

The hulking brute didn't even flinch from the open hand strike, Yoshinko"s hands feeling like they had slapped a sack of bricks. Still, it had proved that inside was probably a good place to be. As souka stuck back with a kick, Yoshinko pulled back a bit, lifting a leg as he re-coiled himself. He could see his opponent shifting, like a boxer, trying to get a bit of space to regroup and rework his approach, even if Yoshinko's attack had been less than effective. He didn't want to allow this though, since he was already inside his opponent's defenses, and so as Souka stepped, so did he. Just from his opponents reaction, he knew how to change his strategy, he didn't have to think, his training took over.

As Souka's hand went out to gesture, Yoshinko was already there. He reached out to grab his opponent's arm, aiming to deliver a side kick with his right foot to the underside of Souka's armpit, before pivoting on that same foot when he put it down, trying to press his back to Souka's body for just the briefest of seconds, before using that same arm he was holding as a lever, and his body as a fulcrum, to flip Souka over him.

The grab would be the hardest part of this technique, as he could already tell his opponent had a good body awareness. Of course he had to watch out for the other hand right then, as well as the feet, since even in a swipe kick, it showed that Souka was not above kicking, not that anyone should be.
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