Welcome to Gaia! ::

Get The ******** Outta My Office, an oddly named series of fight contests, debuting November 29th, 2005. Inspired by the World Champion, Reiko, this tournament strives to be a quick, but nonetheless exciting get together of some of Gaia's greatest contenders, to fight, to celebrate, and to be on their ways. Featuring no more than three or four matches an evening, it is set to occur at least once every month, and draw in a more rowdy crowd to the Gold Mountain casino.

Set in the arena basement, the ring is surrounded by stands for spectators, celebrities, and anyone who just wants to have a good time. There are four small bars on each end of the arena, all serving alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks. The spectator entrances are one to each corner of the top half of the basement, with two entrances at ring level to the southwest and northeast corners, for the fighters to come in from. Sporting forty foot high ceilings, there is even a box for our most esteemed guests, positioned high up on the north wall, just below the announcer's box.

As for the ring itself, considering the great originality among contender and champion alike, the ring refuses to be confined to UFC, professional wrestling, or boxing designs. Twenty five feet in diameter, it is an impressive circle, with ten foot high fence-like barriers around the outer-edge. In the center, the acronym GTFOMO is displayed in large black letters, along with a small dedication to Johnny K. Gambino underneath. The fighters walk down the line to the ring, climb three steps, and enter into the ring through a section of the padded-edge fencing that opens up towards them. Once both are inside, announcements are made, they touch hands in front of the referee, and the match begins.

RULES

1. Killing an opponent is an automatic disqualification and expulsion from further events.

2. There is no restriction on clothing or equipment. However, bladed weapons are highly discouraged, because of their lethal nature, and -all- projectile weapons (firearms, throwing knives, etc.) are strictly prohibited, for the safety of our spectators, and both fighters.

3. A match lasts approximately two hours, with a variable number of posts by either fighter, along with sideposts on behalf of the announcer, referee, and any spectators wanting to express themselves.

4. A win is constituted by either:
- a submission hold held for three posts
- a knockout
- the opponent's surrender by way of tap-out, or yelling "I give up." clearly
- the referee's decision
- final judging taken at the end of the match

5. Points, which go towards the judges' final counts, are awarded as such:

- 1 point for a clean hit
- 2 points for a takedown
- 3 points for a submission hold held for at least one post by each fighter

Whoever, at the end of the match, if it has not ended in any other manner, has the most points is declared the winner.

6. Any blows exchanged after a referee intervenes in anyway, without the referee restarting the match, will result in an automatic deduction of two points per blow, and a possible disqualification.

7. HOLY CRAP GUYS, HAVE FUN.

For now, betting on fights is discouraged until it is organized by the GTFOMO crew.

CURRENT CHAMPION:
Reiko

The spectators were restless in their seats. Even still a few peope were running down the stairs, freshly purchased tickets for the event in hand. The drinks were cold, the air was hot, and the time was right. A middle-aged man with short brown hair and olive green eyes entered the ring to the many cheers of the people in the stands, surrounding the circle on all sides. He wore a fresh black tux, a few cue cards and a mic in his hands.

By now the fighters would just be leaving the dressing rooms, waiting for the cue from the announcer to walk the line and enter that ring. Raising his left arm high, the man put the mic to his mouth, and yelled out in pure 'lets get ready to rumble' fashion:



The crowd roared and the announcer waved slightly, beckoning silence from the excited spectators. He held up the cue cards, looking them over calmly before continuing.

"Ladies and gentleman. Welcome to the GTFOMO debut. On this rainy November evening, we will watch some of Gaia's finest go at it, for the first time in this Gold Mountain Arena! For out first match, from the famed Lu Bu dojo...

KICHIRO KITSUNE!

And, his opponent...

CHRIS CUSTARD!"

The fighters would enter to the cheers and jeers of the spectators, entering through the gates into the fenced ring, and meeting at the center.

"And here's the referee:" A man with a black and white striped shirt would come between the fighters, quickly going over the rules as the announcer stepped out of the ring. He'd look to both men and nod.

"Alright boys, touch hands and come out fighting."

His arm would swing down between the two,
GTFOMO had begun.

Chris had decided against carrying a weapon to the ring, seeing that it would be easy enough for him to get one anyway. Once he saw that his opponent had decided he'd throw his cape, Chris held up his right hand in front of him and shouted-

"Pulse!"

The cape would be blown towards Kichiro, and due to physics, would wrap around him, allowing Chris to rush in and take hold of the right tonfa, placing his back against Kichiros chest and squeezing him between the corner and himself. Whilst all the while steadily delivering elbows with his left free arm.

For all those who weren't aware, Pulse was simply an impact on the air causing a vibration which in turn, moves the air. Similar to a wind attack, though doesn't require air elemancy (I can't remember what the proper term is crying ) This is one (of many) of Chris's self made techniques.

((Ah, an absolute defense, got it))

Well, since things have to travel, Chris could generally tell that something wasn't quite right with that cape. The exact moment of this realisation was when he saw that his attack had no effect, so, he did the thing that made sense: He jumped. And because he jumped, he managed to evade the attack nicely. Once about fifteen feet above everything, he whipped his left arm forward and a vine whip flew out of his palm. Straight at Kichiro, where it would wrap around his right arm and tonfa and then retract suddenly, bringing Chris in to allow him to punch Kichiro in the face. If Kichiro blocked, it wouldn't really matter, Chris would still slam into him at roughly 15 m/s accelerating.

((Grabs are autohitting. The cape was facing you in the spin, it only blocks wherever it is facing. So, not a complete defense))

Kichiro's right hand's had his palm face Custard and spun the tonfa in a fast circle to knock away the vine whip back high and to the side. Such magic was child's play and he was dissapointed his oppenant had resorted to such. Kichiro's left leg, or back leg, bent downwards and began to build up energy.

Kichiro's left hand maintened the tonfa pointing at Custard's right thigh. Kichiro's lips began to utter the chant that made his cloak and cape fuse, they blended perfectly with his surroundings. The same occured with his weapons, and he became vissualy invisible. He'd fight magic spells with magic spells.

In his waiting area, Lazenca watched the fight on closed-circut broadcasts. Chris, he knew. That other guy, he didn't. Interesting tricks, he had up his sleeves. Laz tapped his left wrist, which gave of a clink-clink sound as his claw met with the metal band. A new addition, one he was glad for.

"Hmm."

A large 'huh' spread across the crowd.
Kichiro had just disappeared. The ref watched Chris dumbfoundedly.

"Well Sean, this is unexpected."
"You're -damn- right."

"You're not black Sean, your voice isn't even close to Hayes', just don't try."

"Yessir."

The announcer gripped the microphone, wondering if he should say something.
He thought it better to wait for the referee to decide on something.
Though Custard seemed to move with a certain intent.