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 Posted: Sun Jun 06, 2010 8:14 pm
VS.
 Description: Located in an open-roof stadium is the ring where the first round fights will be taking place. The sound of wild cheering from the many fans that have congregated here fill the arena in a loud uproar as cameras zoom in on the action to broadcast the fights all over the world. The floor of the arena is a glossy hard floor with the logo of GTB painted in purple and pink upon the white sheen. Field Measurements: The fighting area is a perfect circle with a 50 yard diameter. The walls that keep the fighters away from the spectators are raised up to ten feet. Ten Count Boundary: The ten count begins whenever the fighter is knocked out of the bounds of the fighting area, such as into the spectator seats. The flying count out is also in effect, which means, if you stay above ground by your own will for more than ten seconds, you will be DQ'd. Fight Ends: After 11:59 PM on Jun 21st. That means when it becomes Jun 22nd, fights are over.
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Posted: Mon Jun 07, 2010 3:49 pm
"What a drag...", the dull monotone voice of none other than Shinji Tawara would resonate. Having seated himself quite comfortably in the stands, eager to watch a good fight or two, he had been somewhat surprised to learn that the fighting were to begin so soon. He had managed to avoid the ball prior to the initiation of the tournament, as well as countless other trivial things such as autograph signing and whatnot. By tugging the hood of his vest down he managed to cast a menacing shadow over his face, allowing him to exist within the crowd for this long amount of time unnoticed. Now, however, there was a problem, as he himself would have to fight, something he rarely enjoyed doing. Shinji found fighting to be troublesome and baseless at times, even now when he was fighting for money which he needed immensely. The life of a wandering monk wasn't one with much in the way of amenities or physical wealth, and for a lazy, melodramatic man such as himself he often required such in order to retain his lazy lifestyle.
He was good at fighting, luckily. Or, at least he had always been told he was. In his homeland he had been trained extensively in the warrior arts, since childhood he had lived and trained in a monastery, devoted to the martial arts above all else. Apparently, such extensive training coupled with an innate comprehension allowed Shinji to become a prodigious martial artist. During his time as a wandering monk, he served as an Exorcist, combating inhuman, otherworldly opponents such as demons and vampires. Now though, he required a bit more money to support himself than what handfuls of thankful villagers could offer him as reward for his services. And so, he had forced himself to enter, and he would force himself to fight.
Getting to his feet, the spectators surrounding him would look on curiously, wondering if he were truly a fighter. He would answer their questions by pulling off his hooded vest and tossing it back into his seat. "Hey, kid, save my seat." he told the boy who occupied the seat beside his. "I'll be back in a minute." Turning to his seat once more, he placed his travel satchel in his space and was on his way, but not before removing a gourd containing an unknown liquid from the sack, along with a slim, half-empty pack of cigarettes and silver lighter. Though he was a monk, Shinji was perhaps the most irreverent, disrespectful monk there ever was. He drank and smoked at his leisure, usually as much as possible. Slipping the lighter and cigarettes into his the pocket of his shorts he clutched the gourd and continued his waltz toward the arena floor.
Shinji would, therefore, slowly but surely make his way down to the arena floor, the echo of great applause following him as he did. He acknowledged the praise as much as he was expected to, but not more. His mind was focused on the task at hand. For all his laziness and irreverence, Shinji maintained a cool, calm, level-head, always alert and focused. His intelligence could be startling, to some who assumed him to be no more than a thuggish brawler. Situating himself in what he presumed to be the center of the designated fighting area, Shinji would ball his left fist into his right palm and crack his knuckles, while simultaneously cracking his neck by turning his head from left to right. He then moved to preform a series of leg stretches. Once his joints felt loose and pliable, he preformed the final pre-fight task: wrapping his fists in durable cloth fabric. Mostly to dull the pain and damage attributed to his knuckles when striking tough surfaces, once his hands were wrapped up to the elbow, he sat himself down and crossed his legs, taking a deep, long swig from his gourd as he waited.
-> Suiken (Drunken Fist): Initiate Charging
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Posted: Tue Jun 22, 2010 10:06 pm
And the sound of crickets echoed throughout the stadium. The place was slowly clearing out, for there was no opponent ever shown for Shinji... though this meant one thing... that he won by default? A win is a win after all... right?
There was unanimous cheering for Shinji, the winner.
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