August vs. Will

[Director Troutman]

Standard tournament fodder, you're fighting in the same location as Dain would normally host the Fighters League, but with a few small changes...

• The 'ring' is an octagon, similar to UFC standards, with canvas matting on the ground to cover the stone. No padding or anything, the perimeter is an eight-foot high close-knit mesh, so no climbing the cage walls.
  
• There is room for spectators, so it's not exactly going to be quiet in here. Bear that in mind.
  
• Fights are ended by submission or knockout, otherwise it goes to the judges after the week is up.
  
• The entire tournament is taking place in a single evening, so no opportunities to rest up. If you're injured, you'd be best to bear in mind you're not going to be 'fine' for the next fight. Also, unless you win VERY quickly, those who progress to the semi's are going to be at least a little tired.
  
• Competitors will be wearing their own clothing, but restrictions mean no weapons (obviously), and nothing that could be considered 'protective' clothing, so no steel-toed boots or whatnot.
  

Fight hard!

[William Fletcher]

Making little of a fuss about the entire effort, Will had simply put his name down to compete in this tournament that had been mentioned around the school. If he'd not been chosen, he wouldn't have made another noise about it. However, he had been, much to his pleasure, and now he stood at the side of the cage that marked off the ring he would fight in. At his massive height, his palms were able to rest on the top ledge of the barrier as he waited for the door to open out for him...

The 'referee', if he could be called such a thing, opened up the cage from a slight distance away, eyeing Will tentatively as the gargantuan male batted open the door and ducked under the top edge of the frame. His body was loosely clad, shirtless for the sake of heat...He'd made enough effort to know that there wasn't going to be any respite between the rounds, and they'd likely be fighting almost non-stop through the rounds. With little aim on being put out in the first round, he kept that to mind that he may, at some point, fight two rounds one after the other. A shirt would gather sweat and, consequently, heat. If he kept himself cool, it would keep him perked up through the matches...Instead, wearing only a pair of canvas pants and sneakers, he was effectively wearing as little as possible. More than anything, he expected to fight at least ONE opponent smaller and faster than him. If he wore anything heavier, it risked sapping the manouverability he had.

So, standing in that ring, the crowd around jeering and cheering away, his body twitched in anticipation as he watched the door for his opponent to arrive, curious as to who he'd actually drawn, considering he'd not bothered to find out before now.

'Don't keep me waiting...'

[August Velway]

It's been too long!

The crowd surrounded the tournament cage with cries of bloodlust and chants of eccentric anticipation, the energy of the atmosphere practically sparking fires of heat throughout the entire establishment. Having enlisted himself to the cause of such a gorgeously gorey venture, self-proclaimed 'Renegade' and well-reputed Horsemen of Persecution August Velway strolled down the main passage with the widest grin on his face in a long, long time, and his clothing the exact same thing he was always seen in - the tight white A-shirt, the worn and rugged blue jeans, and those heavy hiking boots. His leathery fists were spilled into his pant pockets, and his shoulders held high, as the fighter entered the staging area, absorbing the electricity as best he could.

I haven't had a good fight in a while. Hell, it's been a good few months since I was in any sort of tournament. Damn good thing I jumped onto this deal when I did!

Glancing up towards the cage, Velway noticed the man holding the netted door open, and the figure that stood at the center in wait. August couldn't see his face just yet, but knew he'd find out in a few seconds. Thus, passing through the crowd without much hassle, Velway entered the ring to find his opponent as none other than Will, the badass Irishman from the many occasions they crossed paths.

"Well... didn't expect to see ya here, though I've always wondered..." August spoke in a calm, curious tone, his ebony eyes attached to Fletcher's face, and a coy grin passing over his face, "So then Will, you want to make to start us up? You got here first... it's all courtesy and what not..."

Velway's smile grew wider as his left arm cracked his neck, "Though I dare say you've ever been one to care about that..."

[William Fletcher]

His brow furrowing as he looked towards the cage door, the faintest hints of a grin began to rise as he saw exactly who was walking into the arena. His massive torso flexed instinctively towards the smaller youth, an 'alpha male' instinct as the larger of the pair as it were. In a mild twist of irony, he found himself actually looking forward to the fight with more than just a primal nature.

"Aye, the 'nice-nice' swing never really w's ane o' mah strong points...."

He gave a genuine smile, however brief it may have been and however warped it appeared from the surly mans face, as he stretched his arms out, cracking the elbows with a pair of quick snaps before raising his hands. Balling his fists as he approached, giving a cursory moment or two before doing so to at least give August the time to finish stretching, he shot out a thunderous left jab, utilising his longer reach and deceptive hand speed to keep an extra few inches distance from the smaller fighter, and perhaps even catch him off-guard with the 'early' throw of the punch.

His size, for all its advantages, meant he expected August to be able to evade the blow, and his right was kept high for that purpose. He knew well enough that if Seth, a fighter he'd fought on even ground with in the past, kept August in his ranks that underestimating the lad would be dangerous. However, six months had changed a lot for him, it didn't necessarily mean the same for everyone else.

'Let's see if you're worth being called a Horseman...'

[August Velway]

August just smiled back in satisfaction before going on to prepare himself as well, cracking his wrists and stretching out his muscles to wear off their leniency. Within a few seconds of simple movement, Velway was ready to take on whatever hit Fletcher was planning for him as he made his way closer to the edge of the ring. Indeed, August's position was only a few feet from the entrance behind them, and hearing the clank of the iron fenced door, he grinned, realizing a small opportunity lay behind him.

Planting his right foot down firmly onto the matting and slipping his left leg forward by a few inches, August watched as Will's powerful left jab flashed towards him. Such a simple attack, however, only required a simple evasion this early in the game, and as usual, the attack was likely a prod to feel out the situation. Still, Velway wasn't just going to shift his torso to his left by a few inches and lean back his right side to evade the punch; he had a counter attack in mind as well.

Once the right fist passed his own right shoulder, August would implement the anchor of his right foot and pivot his torso slightly towards his right to send his left arm straight towards Will's left shoulder, where he hoped to firmly tap and then grab hold of the tough joint. If August succeeded to grab hold of Fletcher's left shoulder, he would then shift his own body towards his right with Will so that he could use their collective momentum to shove his opponent into the fenced wall. He was sure Will would have, by then, grabbed a hold of August's left arm by then, but he thought it would be to his advantage with both men pressed against the cage in closer quarters combat, and with Velway advantageously in the exterior.

[William Fletcher]

ooc: I took a few liberties with the ending of this, so feel free to mix the fight up a little.

ic:

The jab was fast enough for someone of the massive Irishmans size, but he'd not be so brash as to indulge his ego in that capacity. That, he remarked inwardly, was something reserved for his strength...When August gripped his shoulder after the very simple evasion, he'd put himself into a position that would cause a knock-on effect, both literally and metaphorically.

Jabbing, as any fighter starting out knew, relied on arm speed as much as, if not more than, body positioning. Jabs 'felt' out the opponent early on, wore them down, so you aimed to reserve your own power. Their main downfall was their lack of strength and easy-to-read nature, but as a fighter progressed in skill, particularly one who focused on his arms as his weapons, methods to deal with that came naturally, as Will set about demonstrating for August.

His right hand shot to his shoulder, grasping the slightly smaller fighter by his wrist in a solid grip as he set about letting himself be directed towards the fencing. However, bringing his brute strength into play was where he would change the outcome of Augusts attempt as he twisted violently to his right, dragging the arm as he turned as well to draw August closer, he set about slamming the pair of them into the side of the ring barrier at the slight pace they were moving at, only with the intended situation reversed. For the smaller of the pair, that would mean having all 265 pounds of Will crashing, shoulder first, into his upper body at once, and respite might just be presented in the fact the cage walls weren't solid, and would give some leeway to it. Topping it all off, however, it had to be kept in mind that these barriers acted mainly as a 'marker' for the arena, and though they'd support a fair amount of weight, the combined force of August and Wills weight along with their concentrated force onto one section of the fencing might prove too much for it to bear....

[August Velway]

... Isn't going as planned, but that's cool.

Yes, August Velway expected Will's grab for his left arm as he shoved their two bodies towards the fenced wall; what he didn't expect was the shift of momentum towards August's vulnerable left side, and the counter-counter move literally began to swing the Horseman's body around in a clockwise fashion towards the fenced wall.

An instant later, August was pressed tightly against the fencing with Fletcher's entire body following, his shoulder the spear. The weight of his opponent's mass crashing against him in an enclosed space was certainly painful, and the scratch and crack of the metal lining behind his back clearly indicated that their combined force was about to shatter a small thread between their standing and their falling back. With the realization that Fletcher now had the advantage regarding their close-quarters engagement, Velway knew he only had two options: punch at Will's gut in vain, or attempt to toss both men through the fencing into the crowd beyond.

Thus, as both men collided with the cage's walls, August tossed his right arm to the opposing side of Will's neck, planted his feet onto the floor as best he could, and by implementing the momentum already used by his counter, tugged their combined masses into the wall on his right side, tossing them side-by-side through the stressed fence onto the concrete ground below. Once the two would crash, Velway would hold back a cry from his right shoulder hitting the floor with his elbow hard, forcing his right hand to release from Will's neck and try to slip to his side. From there, Velway hoped to fight his way out of Will's clutches and somehow reconnoiter his posture.

[Shamino Warhen Ph.D]

I'm going to give this one to William, as he's clearly in the better situation to gain an upperhand if it were to continue.