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Post by ĸara вelova★ on Aug 31, 2009 14:07:02 GMT -5
The MC's voice boomed throughout the theatre, "There are three guards. The competitor must disable them from attacking. They are not allowed to kill, or injure in a way that would kill, these men. Each guard that is rendered unable to fight, is worth one point."
A door opens, and light streams out. You can see the stage, and you are urged to go forward. When you enter the arena, the crowd errupts in loud applause and whistles. Some are chanting your name. But above this noise, the MC speaks to you, and you alone.
"Try to get as many points as you can, because the more you get in Stage I, the easier Stage II will be for you." The guards all turn in your direction.
"Let's see if Morgan has Stage Fright!"
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Post by morg on Aug 31, 2009 15:37:39 GMT -5
"Oh, that is such a load," muttered Morgan. She adjusted the wrappings she'd placed on her hands, making absolute certain that they held. Last thing she needed was to scrape a knuckle across a goonie's face. Just because she'd been out of the loop for several months didn't mean she should roll over and give in. Especially not on stage 1. Hell, Kenneth would never let her hear the end of it.
Morgan easily moved onto the stage then, licking her lips and looking around. Despite her confidence, it had been months. Months of boring waitress work. ended by weeks of practice. She could do this, sure, but doing it wouldn't be easy.
"C'mon then, guards!" she yelled, taking a stance. "Let's do this! I'm getting bored already!"
This ought to be fun.
And hopefully easy, at this stage of the game.
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Post by Peyton Howard. on Sept 1, 2009 8:25:17 GMT -5
The crowd watching knew before the contestant even came out, what the eventual outcome would be.
Jai-ho was meant to be Korean or something. He was a huge fan of Bruce Lee, and when the Corporation ran the interview with him, he'd arrived in nothing but windy pants and bindings around his waist, feet and fists. They doubted his skill, but he certainly looked the part. At the stage of the tournament, they weren't going for seek-and-destroy anyway. It was best to get the idiot employees incapacitated then, and leave the real goonies to work later.
Heracles was the second thug. He was large and hairy, and maybe he had some muscle; it was hard to tell underneath the bright yellow tracksuit. His employers had read that he was a one time wrestling champion and that had been enough to get him hired. The last thug was Tito; this one held his baton like he wanted to hold a gun. With an impressive, albeit petty, wrap sheet, he'd been hired without a thought.
They all looked toward Morgan without a single incredulous look on their faces, after all, they were master warriors who expected a threat in everybody; no man (girl) was too little for a job. Jai-ho jumped around, making noises like, 'hyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaw,' and, 'heeeeeeyah!' He twirled his stick around like a pro-baton twirler and rushed at Morgan while Heracles swung his massive club at the back of the girl's head.
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Post by morg on Sept 1, 2009 11:14:13 GMT -5
"Oh you have got to be," muttered Morgan, rolling her eyes. Three dudes, two of them nearly double her size. If they were in the least bit skilled, this wasn't going to be a walk in the park. Even better: they'd decided to go all for one on her. Morgan was good, but she was in trouble if "Bruce" over there actually knew his stuff.
Morgan arched her back, flipping and falling quickly to the ground, hitting it hard as she split her legs, one going straight back toward Heracles' legs. That was her best bet: get one out fast by breaking something he needed to stay upright. Of course, that would mean she'd have to actually manage to break someone who was twice her size.
'Easy," she muttered, keeping her eyes open and her body tense. Three at once, really? Her reputation must have gotten here ahead of her... and she hadn't even won her biggest event.
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Post by Peyton Howard. on Sept 1, 2009 22:03:29 GMT -5
Heracles stubbed his toe. Where Morgan's feet should have impacted harshly with his legs, the girl got his toes instead because he was such a gigantic and disproportionate fellow.
"Ow!" he exclaimed, reaching for his foot with one hand while the other used the club as a balancing tool as he jumped around on the spot. His records didn't show that he was a big baby and the unintentional strike managed to bring him to a stop much better than a broken leg would have.
"Owowowowowowow!" he continued whining and the crowd started throwing empty cups at him.
Tito walked over to him and pushed him off balance.
"Shutup," he ordered, looking all gangster and so. Meanwhile, Jai-ho, who had initially ran toward Morgan, used his moving speed to propel himself onto his hands, landing in an almost bend-back before raising his upper body so he was in an almost crouch, swinging his baton right at Morgan's face. He really had it in for her face it seemed.
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Post by morg on Sept 1, 2009 22:59:00 GMT -5
They were thugs. Worse, they were whiny thugs. Morgan had been sent to fight whiny thugs, and just the thought of it was enough to p**s her off.
"Alright, that's enough," muttered Morgan. She dove over Heracles, hitting his club with both hands and rolling. Ideally this would mean that Jai-ho hit Heracles instead of Morgan, but she wasn't certain of that outcome. Of the three, Jai-ho seemed to be the biggest threat, which meant that Morgan would have to save him for last.
The Cavan girl finished her roll, using the momentum to spiral upwards. Still spinning, she swung the club she'd stolen hard at the back of Tito's head, hoping the man was too busy being gangster to really fight back.
Morgan just wanted the stupid parts to end, and she was getting very close to just whipping out Power Ranger moves. If the battle was going to be a joke anyway, might as well go all out.
"C'mon, guys, actually fight me. And quit aiming for my face, wannabe Lee. I'm too pretty," Morgan stuck her tongue out as she finished spinning, hefting the club over her shoulder and eyeballing the damage she'd created.
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Post by Peyton Howard. on Sept 2, 2009 11:07:07 GMT -5
The combined efforts of Tito and Morgan left Heracles writhing on the floor; not really from their attacks but more from his perceived pain.
"Cut that out!" Tito snapped, right before he was forced to duck to avoid the oncoming baton. He really hated Heracles in that moment. Even the Chinese guy wasn't so stupid to let his weapon get stolen.
Tito whirled in a continuous movement to face Morgan, flicking his baton at her legs, yelling another scathing command to the hulking man.
"Be useful!" And Heracles, as if he was an automaton who responded to direct commands, stopped his sobbing and whatnot, and clambered to his feet, making a giant, dusty mess of things as he rose to his full height.
"Grr!" he said, jabbing a punch at her, you got it! Face, before matching a successive punch to her gut.
Jai-ho, who had retracted his baton before he hit Heracles, had hung back slightly to watch the other two team together; Tito had a better handle on the hulk than he did anyway.
"You fight like man to be pretty," he responded, both tartly and sagely; an exact replica of a fortune cookie telling you Ray Bans made you look like a douche.
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Post by morg on Sept 2, 2009 14:22:55 GMT -5
Fortunately, Morgan really hadn't given up her momentum yet. She continued moving, though the shot at her legs nearly made her trip. Recovering quick enough, she whirled her baton, club, whatever at the incoming fists, counting on his accuracy for a connection. Unless he somehow manage to yank away his fists in time, he was going to wind up with a broken hand. Morgan was really hoping that was enough for him to get out of the fight; she needed less people if she was ever going to manage to get out of this thing.
Hissing, Morgan aimed a kick at Tito even as she swung at Heracles. one of the major martial arts that Morgan had actually taken lessons for was Jeet Kun Do. One of the major tenants of said martial art was to keep using momentum, particularly that of your foes against you. Morgan could keep dancing and spinning around Hulks 1 and 2 until they were both down, then she'd have to spar with whatshisname.
"You know, I'm gonna take that as a compliment. Besides, I've probably had more offers in the last few months than you've had in years, wannabe," she shot back. Still moving, she attempted to twirl back a few paces. Yet again, the power ranger moves crept into Morgan's mind, tempting her quite strongly...
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Post by Peyton Howard. on Sept 3, 2009 10:12:14 GMT -5
Heracles roared. Like, literally roared. His fist met with his own club, and if his brain was capable of processing irony, it would have done just that. Bone was bone, no matter how much meat and muscle it was buried underneath. While his were admittedly stronger than most others, the impact of the club managed to shatter something behind his curled fist, enough so that even he could feel the hurt.
"Oh man! That was a rough hit from Morgan Cavan! Heracles! Are you okay?"
The MC's voice boomed overhead, and rather than being concerned or anything, they were more focused on seeing if Heracles was down for the count or not. The once champion wrestler could still go on, he knew, because while the pain was flaring in that first moment, he could learn to ignore it. But he was still without the use of one hand, without a weapon, and despite all he was willing to do, he just wasn't any good to anybody by staying on stage.
Tito briefly acknowledged the look on Heracles face, noting it as the smartest thought process he'd ever seen from the big guy, as he dodged the kick coming his way by dancing backward a few steps. Tito would have said something scathing in reply to her comment toward Jai-ho, if it weren't for the fact that, well, he didn't really like Jai-ho, but he liked talking even less.
Jai-ho finally re-extended his baton and moved to stand beside Tito. The club Heracles wielded was a heavy hunk of metal, thicker than the average police gear or a baseball bat; it was built for a man who had large hands, to suit the rest of him. For being two opposites, they thought alike and worked seamlessly together. While Tito swung to the right of him, at the lower part of Morgan's body, Jai-ho held his baton surely like he would a blade, and swung it to the left of him, at Morgan's upper body.
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Post by morg on Sept 3, 2009 13:34:21 GMT -5
She'd gotten one. Or gotten him enough that he wasn't going to be of any use to anyone. Broken hand, lost weapon, the guy might as well just crawl off the stage now. Of course, he was the weakest, dimmest of the three, so it only made sense that he'd gone down so easily. No way were things going to be so smooth with the other two.
Morgan hefted her stolen weapon, wishing it was smaller, built for slimmer hands. Sure, she had muscles, but they weren't the kind used to hefting a heavy club like this. It strained now, and she was beginning to feel it pull at her. Couldn't use it much longer, not and keep moving.
They moved together now. Because things weren't already dodgy. Too out of practice. Well, Morgan would have to take a hit; best way to get this done quickly.
Morgan flung her club at Jai-Ho, tossing it up in such a manner that it flew horizontally at the man's head. As she tossed, she moved into Tito's swing, grabbing onto the bat as she moved across. The collision made her body shake, sending pain shooting up her arms, but she managed it. Still turning, she used Tito's momentum to swing him about, and it should fling the hefty black man at a still off-balance Jai-Ho. And all Morgan would have is two hands that felt like every bone in them were broken.
Win win, maybe?
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Post by Peyton Howard. on Sept 5, 2009 3:27:43 GMT -5
Jai-ho, who was clearly a master of kung-fu, effortlessly ducked the oncoming projectile. As if a mere club could defeat him! He noted how she aimed for his face though and tried not to think too much about it, but this was while he in an odd position, having lowered himself slightly to his left to avoid the club. His peripherals watched, as if in slow motion, what progressed next. Despite his bent angle, he tried his best to get out of the way of a flying Tito, but no matter what he could have done, some part of him would have been buried under the black man, taking in the brunt of his fall.
While Tito couldn't imagine this tween to be overly strong he did know that the tournament was boasting some very strange contestants. His employers had made sure to inform all of them, somewhat vaguely, of what they were going up against. Kids who could walk through walls (and flesh and bone), move things with their mind, stop time simply because it was in their genetic make-up; no farce, no exterior enhancement. He was expecting this, but that didn't mean that he had to particularly like it when he was being tossed into the air.
His baton collided with her hands and he viciously hoped it caned like a bitch. That thought was cut short as she forced to manipulate his momentum against him. That far into his actions, so dedicated he was to hurting her, he couldn't do anything to stop her. A stumble gave way to loss of control, and while he knew it would be better to not land on the Asian, he couldn't help but land on Jai-ho's legs.
The Cambodian was thankful Tito had missed the gut, being winded was something he didn't enjoy, but when he felt the jarring pain travel through his legs, he didn't know which would have been the better outcome.
"Ge'roff!" he growled, not because something was impeding his speech, but because his accent was that strong.
Tito suffered scraped skin on his arms, and the distinct feeling that Jai-ho's stupid bony knees had maybe stuck into parts of his stomach that shouldn't have knees being stuck into. The gangster groaned a little and did his best to roll over. The two guards were a sorry sight, almost as sorry as Heracles had been (and he had cried a little), and the MC's voice soon floated around them.
"Morgan has wiped the floor with them! In one bold move, she's left them writhing on the floor! Look at the way they cry; do you want your mommy, boys? Do you have a little STAGE FRIGHT??"
Tito, who could still get up on his feet despite the aches he felt, managed to do just that, not paying a single attention to the Indian on the floor; it was never gonna work out anyway, depending on anybody else but himself. His baton had been flung away with him so he bent down to relieve Jai-ho of his, facing against Morgan with a baleful look. Deciding finesse, or his version of it anyway, was no longer something he cared for, the man charged at the girl, baton high above his head.
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Post by morg on Sept 5, 2009 22:15:12 GMT -5
The bumbling bought Morgan several seconds. Enough to massage feeling back into her hands. Enough to regain control of her sense and mind. Enough to realize that she'd shifted the balance of power somewhat. Now they realized that she could actually fight them, that this wasn't Mary Poppins they were doing battle with. They'd been paired with someone who didn't have problems taking huge hits and knew exactly how to handle people.
Morgan shifted position as Jai-Ho and Tito moved. Both legs firmly planted, arms balanced out, fully defensible. She figured that if they could actually move, and she was betting at least one still could, then they'd charge. Charging was easy to beat, if you were ready.
"C'mon, you're about to get floored by a little girl. Should be great to brag about when you get back," offered Morgan cheekily. As she expected, the thundering oaf separated, running straight at her, all alone.
Just as Tito came close, Morgan moved. She darted forward, just shifting her step, moving as little as possible, counting on Tito's momentum to do most of the work . One hand extended straight out, aiming directly for Tito's chest, one let moved forward, blurring toward Tito's leg, all while her body rolled, bracing for a glancing hit from the club, possibly even more.
He couldn't stop, not moving like that. Should go:
snap
crackle
pop.
One more down, probably out. And just limping Wannabe-Lee left.
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Post by Peyton Howard. on Sept 7, 2009 11:55:06 GMT -5
Tito's knee blew out. The gangster just had his knee successfully capped by what looked to be a 15 year old girl. If she hadn't been a freak, he would have been ashamed of himself. Simultaneously, he crumpled, just as his grip and the lower parts of the baton hit her shoulder, missing his target, her head, by about a good bit considering it was a notable part of the body.
"Aggh!" he yelled, when he landed on the injured knee, and he immediately fell to his side to alleviate any pressure. The crowd was going off, most cheering while some booed at the two remaining guards. He couldn't even look up, red, hot embarrassment forming underneath his dark skin.
"And that's it! Tito's out! Jai-ho's down! Heracles defeated! Morgan Cavan the VICTOOOORRRRRRR!!!"
Jai-ho barely managed to sit up as the MC finished the announcement, a glower on his face. He clutched at his right calf, his leg bent at a slight angle while he made no effort to put it back in place; better to wait for the medics.
"Your tricks can't always help you," he said to Morgan, and the mic near his ear amplified his words so the whole arena could hear; so when he accidentally moved and irritated his bung leg, he released an involuntary pained cry, much to the delight of the crowd. The laughter was all around and applause broke out.
"Morgan! They love you!! And that's all everybody, we'll be seeing her again in Stage II ooooof STAAAAAAAGE FRIGHT! brought to you by Monster Energy Drink; killer flavor, a meaner boost."
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Post by morg on Sept 7, 2009 22:32:37 GMT -5
It had worked.
Yes, Morgan's shoulder throbbed, and she'd need healing or at the very least, an icepack. She was betting on the former, given that this was a Gifted contest. Even in regular competitions, she'd often gotten healed, benefit of having a dad who had that little trait.
"Aww, are we upset because three big bad men just got their legs all bwoke-ed by a wittle girl? Wanna know the best part? I just copy what I see. You really did just get your a**es kicked by a seventeen year old girl. Don't feel too bad though, I'm gonna win anyway," Morgan clicked her tongue, adjusting the wrapping around her hands, grinning all the while. All three of them, and pretty fast too. If things kept going like this, she'd take the whole game by storm.
"Oh, and Monster tastes like bile," she announced, grinning widely as she gave the crowd one last wave. Then, she turned to head back, her injuries not dimming her grin in the slightest.
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