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 Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 11:36 am
 vs 
SCENARIO
Van and Bataar can't come to an agreement (surprise), and so they use the tried-and-true method of sorting things out... fight!
Housing Woes
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 11:37 am
Outcome:
Predetermined Legion Win
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 11:54 am
Van continued to scowl as Bat stumbled toward her. It was certainly not beyond him to just throw a punch right now; in fact, this was how they had started most of their fights with each other. Their staredown was most certainly intense as always, with Bataar enraged, and Van defiant. The fighter could feel her fingers curling into the half-fist of her leopard palm as the captain brandished the tiger rug in front of her, as if trying to scare her. She might have ceded the fur to him, but that was definitely the only thing she was going to let him get away with, today.
Focusing her ki to her feet in case of the need to make a quick dodge—they were quite close to each other, as it was—Van waited. And the next thing she knew, there was a tiger coming at her. Making a hard duck to the side, the fighter barely managed to avoid the flying pelt. What she did not see, however, was that the captain had been in the shadow of the dead creature, and his fist was coming up fast.
When she finally saw it coming, there was no way for her to avoid it in time. Twisting her body in an attempt to deflect the brunt of the blow, she prepared herself for the hit. His fist landed on her shoulder, just above her left breast, and the petite woman flew back a few feet from the force. As she regrouped, she idly wondered if his aim was getting better, or worse. There was little time to think about that right now, though, because her house was on the line in this fight.
Wasting no time in idle movements, the fighter charged, closing the distance between them instantly. Her right fist shot up toward the other Lunarian’s eye in an attempt to rake the captain’s pressure points, while her left fist made an pass at his stomach. There was no avoiding the fight, so she might as well embrace it.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 1:07 pm
Bataar was pleased at where his punch had landed, and grinned to himself for a moment, well aware that he had a chance at getting his ger back. This was the moment of truth in many ways-- he'd show Van, and then she would have to give him his house back. There was no way that the Legionnaire could refuse under the persuasion of his fists! He was going to have to show her that he was a force to be reckoned with at the highest level. There was a reason he was a Noble captain at this point in time, after all.
He saw the fist flying for his face and turned away, receiving a hook to the chin instead and feeling rather successful about his dodge-- for two seconds, at least, because the fist to his stomach made its impact known moments later. The captain backed away quickly, attempting to analyze his current situation in order to hopefully land something of a useful blow as soon as was humanly possible. That was, as far as Bat was concerned, the problem with Van. She was too strategic when she was fighting and it made life into a terrible pain in the a**. He didn't want to have to worry about her targeting his weak spots although it was already pretty evident that she was going to.
There was nothing to do now but fight back, however, and as soon as he had gained his breath back from the blow to the stomach he surged forward, aiming a kick at Van's kneecap. If he could somehow hinder her agility he would stand more of a chance at keeping his beloved ger. His mother would be proud of him for defending his home, or so he thought. He was still completely unaware of Odval's involvement in any of this, and probably wouldn't have been fighting for an advantage if he'd been aware.
His mother was far more terrifying than sleeping on the cold ground outside was.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 1:43 pm
Van’s glossed lips pulled back in a smirk as her fist landed on the captain’s face. She had been inches short of her mark, but she was sure she would have an opportunity to try again shortly. Her next punch landed true, however, and the fighter felt a surge of triumph mixed with adrenaline rush through her body. Determined to continue the onslaught, Van followed him as he backed off. She’d give him no chance to recover—that was, after all, the strength of her fighting style. She wasn’t the strongest Lunarian, especially compared to the ox of a man Bataar, but she was fast, and if she was always on the offensive, she didn’t need to worry about blocking attacks.
Closing in on Bat again, she raised both fists again, aiming a barrage of hits on the Noble’s face and upper body. If she could distract him for long enough, he wouldn’t even see her kick to his knee coming. However, when she looked down, she saw that the captain had the same idea in mind. Her rapidly beating heart skipped a beat as she hurried to dodge the kick—if he took out her knee, she’d be done. She rolled downward out of the way, as his boot landed in a painful hit to her thigh. Grunting at the impact, Van decided to count her blessings rather than her losses; at least she could still get up and fight.
Somersaulting upright behind the captain to wind up for a kick, the fighter swung her leg out low to the ground, hoping to sweep Bat’s feet out from under him and send him crashing down onto the polished wooden floor. Then, they would be on the same level. It had been a long time since their last fist fight (neither recalled the bar, after all), and Van was pleased to find that she could still hold her own against the much larger man.
“You’re getting rusty,” she taunted.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 5:54 pm
There was never enough time to reflect on any feeling of triumph before the odds were turned against you. That was the Noble's thought as he continued to fight it out with Van, aiming for a decent victory. He wasn't too good at dodging attacks and generally had to rely on himself to endure the blows given to him. For the most part, this was simple enough: we went through with the bruises but, ultimately, survived. That was the most important thing as far as the Mongol was concerned. So long as he could stand his ground and remain conscious, he would.
Before he knew it, he was being hit again. The man backed away quickly, only pleased that Van had been distracted enough to endure a kick to the thigh. He had some advantage now, then. If he could stop Van from moving as quickly he had a very good chance of winning this, and that was his consistent goal. It was all about the win, and without it he didn't really know what he'd do. This ger was his only shelter, and he couldn't possibly lose it.
The captain stumbled forward clumsily as Van nearly knocked him off of his feet with her legs. This resulted in a few moments of powerlessness on Bat's part and he had to catch himself with his hands. He was only happy that the floor of the ger wasn't rough, or he would have endured fairly bad scrapes along his palms.
He pushed himself back up again and faced Van, his green eyes narrowing as she taunted him. "It wouldn't be a problem if you'd fight like a real man." Bat growled, fisting his hands yet again. He was well aware that this was a point of irritation for the fighter, and hoped that she would waste her time bickering while he... well, he supposed he was going to have to kill her now.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 6:16 pm
Van was aware of the (occasional, thankfully) hits that landed on her while she attacked him. The fighter’s personality and fighting style had never lent itself well to blocking or dodging attacks. It was either hit or be hit for the both of them, and that was precisely why they were such perfect brawlers. If he punched her, she’d merely have to punch back harder. Many would call this an atrocity as far as traditional martial arts, but when it came to Bataar, it didn’t matter. They both fought dirty, and Van knew just as well as he did that antiquated rules didn’t hold a candle to their hatred for each other.
The fighter was disappointed that she’d only managed to trip him, but did not let the moment go to waste. Shooting to her feet, Van pulled her knee up, aiming another kick at the captain’s abdomen, and another punch for good measure. Her thigh spasmed painfully as she landed on her feet again, however, and she backed away, wincing. There was going to be quite the bruise there in a matter of minutes. She didn’t have time to reflect on her newest injury however, because Bataar was refusing to stay down.
The only thing Van needed to do in order to enter the fight again was think of what was at stake right now—a house. The Legionnaire was already charging at him again when he replied to her taunt. The frown on her face deepened and she could feel her face darken at his words. “We’ll see who’s manlier when you’re the one crying on the floor, Bat,” she spat, her knuckles bared and aiming this time at his elbows. If only she could take one of his arms out, she’d be able to swing the battle back in her favor.
The onslaught continued.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 6:38 pm
Bataar could already feel a number of welts and bruises forming upon his body, but these did not deter him. Instead, they fueled his desire to win against Van. He was well aware that their fighting style was a fairly awful fail, but it was not something that the captain was ever willing to admit. If you asked Bataar he would name a number of elaborate fighting styles in order to defend himself. In truth, he just did whatever came to mind, which was certainly not supported by any martial arts discipline in existence. Batkwando, however, was slowly working its way to the surface.
A knee to the stomach was enough to piss him off even more than he'd already been pissed off. The man gasped for air for a moment, noting with some degree of happiness that Van had landed badly due to one of his earlier blows. It was a relief to know that he was at least doing some damage, and that even if he didn't win the fighter would be hurt for at least a small amount of time. That was consoling, to say the least, especially since he was so convinced that Van deserved it at this point in time.
He moved away as quickly as he possibly could when one of her fists came flying at his elbows and growled as it hit upon his upper arm instead. He could still work with this, but it was going to make life painful-- especially tomorrow. But so long as everything was still functioning today, he could afford to aim a punch directly at the middle of the fighter's chin. He just needed to take her out for two seconds and then perhaps he could manage a victory and once again obtain his ger. For, after all, it was his, no matter what Van claimed.
Besides, he would never cry on the floor.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 7:07 pm
The woman actually laughed when she felt her knee connect with his stomach, the only indication that she was enjoying the fight more than she should have. No matter the circumstances of the battle, a good fight ranked high on Van’s list of favorite things. The exhilaration of the fight was a drug, and her addiction had been instilled early on in her childhood. So now, when Bataar gasped for air like a fish, it was equally amusing and enthralling. The captain wasn’t an ideal opponent, of course, because of their long-standing mutual hatred, but because of that, she did not have to hold back.
Her attack missed by mere inches, much like her last. Somehow he managed to evade her speed even in such a close quarters battle, but Van was grateful that at least her attacks were not in vain. She was getting tired from dancing around him all the time, but she knew that she was also slowly wearing him down. They were matched well enough in this particular instance—it only boiled down to who could blindside the other first.
Van had always been sensitive to attacks coming at her face, and so when Bataar’s fist threatened to hit her in the chin, she jumped back immediately. His punch connected anyway, slamming her jaws together painfully, but it was a small price to pay compared to a broken face. The fighter landed quietly a few feet away, ducking into a crouch as she tried to figure out her next line of action. It didn’t take long, for she made her move almost immediately. Keeping close to the ground, she lunged at Bataar’s legs in a practiced tackle, a move she had learned in her childhood under her brother’s direction.
Wrestling was more sport than martial art, but it had its uses, particularly when you wanted someone to fall down.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 8:09 pm
Bataar didn't think much about this battle was very funny, although he had to admit that he'd always enjoyed fighting, even as a child. That was, perhaps, the only bond that he would ever share with the Legionnaire. Too much of a love for violence could be damaging, after all, and most were in agreement that Bat didn't need anymore in the way of mental damage. It wasn't so much fighting that Bat loved as opposed to winning. It was fantastic to carry that sort of power over someone else, no matter the situation.
Bat was beginning to hope, though, that Van was growing tired. If he could get her to the point where she could no longer successfully evade his attacks he'd be enormously pleased. It would be nice to land all of his intended blows for once, after all. It was good to hit as hard as he liked, but it was more complicated with an agile opponent like Van. He'd never give her the compliment of telling her that, but he would allow the thought to pass through his head. He didn't like that the woman had the ability to move elsewhere every single time he went in for a hit, and was well aware that distractions were his only hope at a decent battle.
Before he could figure out what exactly was happening, though, the Noble was on the ground, wrestling with the Legionnaire that had taken him down. He would give her a taste of Mongolian wrestling if he could help it! He found himself struggling on the ground, trying to get his arms properly around the fighter's slender neck so as to put her in a headlock. If he could just roll her over, maybe he'd have a better chance at winning this one...
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 8:32 pm
The score mattered not, to Van—only the game. Unlike Bataar, Van fought for the fight, and less for winning. It was nice to win, obviously, and she tended to get a big head when she did, but having been a long-time student of Quán Khí Đạo, she had learned that the process was more important to her. Not to mention, her fiery temper led her headlong into many fights, and she didn’t win all that often, so there was little to boast about. This made her victories much sweeter when they did occur, however, and would not stop her from gloating when she succeeded in pummeling the captain’s head in today.
It had been a long time since the fighter had last wrestled with another Lunarian; the last time was while training with her brother, and obviously such training matches had long since ceased. This being so, Van was a bit rusty, and in her brief moment of self-assurance had overlooked the glaring fact that Bataar was still the larger Lunarian. One wrong move and he could crush her. Hell, he could probably just sit on her right now if he took a moment to think about it.
Van found herself again grateful for the fact that she seemed to have the upper hand upstairs, although this moment of relief was dangerously cut off when Bataar’s arms found their way around her neck. The pressure rose in Van’s face as she felt herself choking against his hold, fighting for some way to get out of the vice grip that was closing quickly around her head. Was he trying to kill her?
In a moment of brilliance, she remembered something. The fighter slammed her knee up suddenly, hitting him right where it hurt. It was literally a below-the-belt maneuver, but in a fight between Bataar and Van? Anything goes.
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Posted: Fri Dec 30, 2011 9:43 pm
Wrestling was second-nature to a man like Bataar, who had grown up with the sport in his own corner of Lunaria within his clan. He'd been quite good at it, too, mastering the Mongolian style to the best of his ability. He might have on a few too many items of clothing to perfectly replicate that particular form of wrestling, but it was a moot point. The only thing was that he knew wrestling, and he knew it quite well. This was the perfect mode of termination for the evil Legionnaire within his grips, and then he'd get his ger back!
Everything was wonderful and great within Bat's head, in any case. He was going to beat up this evil bitchface of a woman and then he was going to parade around town with her head on a stake. His plan was coming together quite well by now, especially when it came to the headlock he now had the woman in. All he had to do was wait for her to pass out, die, or do both in succession. It was the perfect move!
His pride in his wrestling ability was halted abruptly, however, when he had to give into the feeling of an assault upon the extremely valuable family jewels he sheltered within his pants. The man groaned and instantly let go of his headlock, rolling away to curl up in pain and frustration. It certainly wasn't the first time that had happened, and it certainly wasn't the last, but it was the most unendurable and painful thing that he'd ever gone through-- ever.
This meant, he knew, that Van had won, but that was only for the time being. Victory didn't last forever, after all, and he still wasn't willing to give up his ger It was where he lived, not to mention where he slept, and that was not a space that he was willing to compromise with. Maybe he'd get to execute the Legionnaire the next time he fought, although he doubted it. They both fought too dirty to seriously kill each other. That was just the way things went.
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