Kazuki v. Allen Daughtry

[Kyukaku]

Like the last tournament, the fights will take place in an MMA style caged octagon. IC, the fights will all take place in one night, with a 15 minute break between rounds. The only rule in this tournament is no killing your opponent, so be original.

First post is due by monday night, with posts every 24 hours at minimum. They will be judged next sunday if you can't finish your opponent.

Ready? FIGHT!

[Kazuki Akimoto]

A crowd baying for action and blood screaming around the cages out in the main 'arena' made themselves heard quite easily, even in the back-rooms where the competitors for this tournament had been given the opportunity to prep themselves for their matches. Kazuki was one of them, opting for the few minutes of quiet before he would step into the lights, knowing full well that it would be the only peace he would get until then.

Of course, it would be wrong to assume that he was not in full spirits for the match ahead. He was just set on a more....calm train of thought than normal. It was the same as it had been before. He no longer competed with anything to prove to anyone, he just liked the chance to see how he could fare against the people who chose to do so. This time around, however, it seemed like a reunion of sorts for many of his fellow graduates.

Gilsin, Kokaku Musha and Adam were all competing this time around. Adam he wasn't entirely surprised at, after all the burly youth would fight his shadow given half the chance, but Kokaku? He'd not seen him since that day in the hospital...Lastly, Gilsin. The guy had almost vanished off the face of the earth for a while, but seeing his appearance here was almost enjoyable for the Asian. If nothing else, he would be sure to watch the Germans match, see how he fared these days. With that, he soaked up the last few moments of that nostalgic feeling before he pushed off the chair he sat in, stretching out slowly as he did so.

There'd be no point in sitting around much longer, complacency wasn't fit for the moment, and he needed to go and get himself riled up for his match. Swinging the door open, he strode from the small room and through into the packed crowd, a hooded sweater slung low over his face to obscure himself from the other spectators. Not that it did all that much, as a handful of them still cheered at him as he passed, but after a few moments he was standing at the ringside, watching the fights in front of him, sizing up what could be his next opponent.

'There's no shortage of good fighters here tonight, that much is for sure....'


Soon after[/i]

Getting the call for his match, he didn't waste a whole lot of time as he rose from his seat. Unzipping the hooded sweater he'd had pulled on, he tossed it back at the chair and hopped up onto the slightly raised platform the ring was set on. In doing so, the cheers from the spectators rose sharply for a moment, and he stifled a small smile at it as he walked into the octagon. Behind him, the door remained open for his opponent to follow suit, likely just after. He turned to face the entrance to the caged off area, watching for his opponent as he shifted lightly and rhythmically from foot to foot, clad lightly as was his nature. Shirtless, showing off his numerous tattoos and equally numerous scars, he wore simple, light track pants. Not too loose, but hardly a tight fit by any means. The only other item of clothing he wore a pair of very simple, but sturdy, sneakers.

It was an ironic contrast, that someone with his wealth fought in such frugal attire. The fact was, his size made it a good idea to fight shirtless. He was light enough that larger fighters, of which Adam and Gilsin immediately sprung to mind, could use it as a leverage point for grappling him. The track pants provided enough movement without hanging too loosely, and they were lighter than jeans. Sneakers, well, that was just a matter of preference. He'd fought in combat boots in the past, but found them redundant. He kicked hard enough without needing the added force given from the toes of the heavier footwear, and this made it easier for him to abuse his own agility.

His face was blank just now, watching only the entrance to the cage for his opponent. Right now, that was the only thing in the world to him, and he was focused solely on the fight ahead. He had nothing to prove to anyone, but he was still harboring the question of whether he'd be able to fight like he had before...

'Tch, if I'm stuck against Adam at any point, I guess I'll find out then....'

The thought brought a very brief, faint grin to his lips, but that was all...

[Allen Daughtry]

Just to clear up: physical competition and sports entertainment, especially their championships, had never suited nor blinked in the eyes of Allen Daughtry. An entity of logic, reasoning and purpose, the young man had few pleasures that involved other people, and when it came to the lovely regulation and controlled adrenaline of fighting, he only had a sigh to give and a shrug to add.

So why in the hell was someone without taste for such bloody sports signed onto the list of combatants at the school's latest underground tournament? The answer was very simple: an admirer wrote in his name and coincidentally forgot to ask for approval by, well, Allen himself. Yet, when Daughtry found out - from some insignificant moron that tried to intimidate the newcomer in Biology earlier in the week - that he was involved in the tournament, he was more inclined to accept the fact than resist it. One could likely blame it on a mixture of laziness, innate curiosity, and a serious need to shed some blood that didn't come with political repercussions.

Fast forward to the sweaty night in question, and there sat Allen Daughtry, leaning forward on the first row of audience bleachers with his jacket-sleeved arms pressed on his legs and his mahogany boots loosely slumped over the chilled concrete floor. It wasn't surprising to find Daughtry in the same opaque shades, old leather jacket, worn blue jeans and simple black tee that that were seen on him every day, especially since his family Cross was still wrapped around his neck. The only difference to his usual look, in fact, was that his hearing was plugged with a pair of ear-enveloping headphones, a thin silver wire running down to his jacket pocket, and a face of complete disregard etched across his demeanor.

The guy was apparently more interested in a random clip of techno music than the world echoing around him, and he wasn't even trying to hide the fact; his head was bobbing to the beat of the music outright!

Yet, Daughtry was not completely lost in his own world. He arrived at the tournament center about fifteen minutes earlier, had garnered a slight - if not momentary - bit of notice when he first knocked, then kicked, his way through the back door to arrive in the combatants' area, only to be questioned by the "guards" and nearly tossed out on his ass. After proving his identity, though, he spent about - say - thirty seconds stretching his limbs and bones before feeling amply satisfied and finding a seat outside, spending the next eleven and a half minutes listening to music without even thinking to watch the fights.

Then again, he wasn't even entertained by watching others fight, so what was the point? Usually the man had some clever or deep thought to be had, but for the time being, he was just as shy-minded as any other man when it came to watching ESPN Sports Center - except his was a silence of boredom and lack of interest, not a love of pointless numbers.

Anyway, recapping the present - since there's no point in being lost in the past when it's already gone - Allen didn't have a clue when the announcers called out for him to enter the arena. Seriously; he was too busy bobbing his head to remotely focus on any noise from outside his earphones. So when a subtle tap echoed a sequence of nerve sensations up his right shoulder, the boy thought it was just somebody trying to bother him.

Or it could have been a sexy girl ready to say how she wanted his body so badly, but unfortunately, fantasy was fake for a reason.

Allen pivoted his neck and head back over his right shoulder to glance at the sophomore-looking dude from behind his opaque shades, his lips completely motionless and frank. As Daughtry watched the other boy's mouth move - because, mind you, Allen still had his headphones on - he thought whether it was worth listening. Asking a monotoned "What?" as he slipped off his music, the sophomore - who happened to look like a typical Cali boy: "cute" hair, "cute" clothes and "cute" eyeliner, all of which made Daughtry want to gag - apparently repeated himself, "They just called you up dude."

Allen watched the boy mindlessly for a second behind his shades, then asked a stupid question, "Wait, who just called me up for what?"

And of course, the sophomore rolled his eyes dramatically and immediately sounded like a little girl demanding attention as he spit back, "The ring thing! You know, like where you fight? Gawd."

Allen held the same face as before for a good five seconds before finally registering the facts. "Oh," he replied, then turned his attention towards the arena ahead - without realizing that more than half of the people behind him were glaring at his spiked hair - and without a moment's notice, stood up to reach the center stage.

'Damnit, why couldn't they have waited longer... I was really getting into that music.'

Reaching the fenced door, Allen went on to quickly toss off his jacket, shades, Cross and mp3 onto the stairs near the arena's exit, and finally entered through the doors to take a stance ten feet across from his opponent, whom he thought to recognize.

'He's that... bar owner? Hell if I know, but I feel like I know him.'

His cerulean eyes now seen to all, Allen found himself grinning as he spread his own legs to take a more appropriate position, holding his arms in comfortable locations in front of both his chest and side. Watching his opponent carefully for a moment, Daughtry finally decided to open the match with a simple phrase, "I'm thinking you want the first hit; am I wrong?"

[Kazuki Akimoto]

Tilting his head a moment at the remark, he raised an eyebrow in mild amusement at the blasé nature that the question was posed. He'd not raised his guard yet, considering the pair were far enough away from each other that Kazuki could have reacted without trouble at any point during a charge, but now didn't even hold his arms at the ready to his sides. Thumbs hooked into the seams of his pockets a moment, he responded with an almost-friendly tone in his voice, pacing closer to Allen as he spoke but keeping a few feet between them at all times, this way making sure that they kept their own distances, but that despite the noise in the building, they'd be able to hear one another.

"If it's at all possible, I'd like to have the only hits in this fight, but that's not really how it works, is it? No, let's do this the way a fight should be done, no bullshit 'warmups', let's just get into it. How does that sound?"

It was a genuine offer and request, by all means. So often, fights devolved into a dull pattern of tit-for-tat, people taking the first opening, then waiting for their opponent to take theirs. A proper fight was when both participants went at each other at the same time, meaning that only skill would determine who would get their attack off successfully. Whether the younger man would agree to the notion or not, he would wait a moment and allow him to get ready before he moved.

Snapping forward sharply, he aimed to close the gap between them as suddenly as possible, if lucky enough to do so before Allen could react then all the better. Pivoting about a quarter-turn on his right foot, letting his left slide forward a half-step, he shot out his left fist towards Allens chin, intent on punching quickly over the younger fighters guard and forcing him into defence quickly. All the while, his right remained held just below his own chin, his weight held on his front foot to allow quick sidestepping if necessary against this slightly larger fighter. Taller though he was, he had a similar frame to the Asian, and it stood to reason that he could be a speed-based fighter as well.

He would find out in a second just which was the case...

[Allen Daughtry]

Allen had to admit, his opponent was speaking words that sounded a lot sweeter than he anticipated. In a few short moments, the other fighter not only displayed a relaxed, empowered demeanor as he replied, but he offered an option to the both of them that the younger man wouldn't have expected from such a veteran of combat. Allowing his grin to tighten only to demonstrate his increased satisfaction, Daughtry nodded his agreement, and held his prior stance as the opponent took his own a few steps away.

'I like this guy already. Too bad I've gotta break his nose before I even get his name.'

A moment later, the man took a short step and bound forward to break the distance between them, following his change in position with a rapid left jab towards Allen's chin area. But the young newcomer wasn't interested in the same defensive toss of attacks and parries; like his opponent, he wanted something more realistic, more passionate, and above all: far more dangerous. Usually the boy would let his logic rule out, and it typically dictated patience and accuracy before power. But today, on a night where the boy felt a desire to try something new, he decided to let his logic take a break, and allow his instincts to take the first swings.

Immediately seeing the jab, Daughtry responded with a quick toss of his right forearm upward to parry the hit, bounding his own wrist off of his opponent's left fist lightly to deflect the limb away momentarily, and spread his palm to try and restrain the arm if it was grabbed. As he deflected the jab, Allen then struck an attack of his own, sending his left fist in a rapid undercut to his opponent's gut - a stinging, but most stunning, strike. However, Daughtry wasn't planning to keep with the usual one-hit attack; whether his undercut hit or not, and if his right arm was free, he would instantly follow through with a right jab to his opponent's vulnerable left cheek, intent on turning insult to injury.

As he did all this, the rest of his body had been relatively motionless, save for his left foot, which slid out slightly to give more leverage for a continued push onward.

[Kazuki Akimoto]

A veteran of combat...Certainly no mindreader, but it was an appropriate term for Kazuki Akimoto. He would never profess to being the strongest fighter in Varron, though several tournament titles would attest to that, but if there was an edge he held over anyone, it was the simple fact of the depth of his knowledge in combat. Nearly twenty years of being trained and immersion in martial arts, and at the still-young age of twenty-four years, that accounted for almost his entire lifespan.

He lived for this, plain and simple. He didn't thrive on it for the victory or the satisfaction of hurting someone else, simply for the fact that he understood it so deeply that it was, and would always be, a part of his psyche. As such, the instant the counter began on his opponents part, the elder of the pair reacted.

The deflection to his wrist was almost textbook. Nearly all fighters who knew their stuff would have used a similar counter due to its simplicity in execution and effectiveness. However, his fist loosened mid-way through the jab in anticipation, so when the outstep of Allens wrist struck for its deflection, it was to the heel of Kazukis hand. The palm gripped the wrist quickly over the top, tightly holding around the joint and immediately dragging Allen towards him. His left foot anchored in for leverage would prove exceedingly useful here, letting his slight frame exert the necessary force in dragging the taller youth forward and possibly off-balance. Shifting the foot back that half step in his move, he brought his frame back to a level centre of gravity.

As soon as his hold had been accomplished, which wouldn't seem too difficult unless Allen was double jointed, his right hand had already begun moving. Unlike the left, which had been a quick and sudden jab, the right drove forward in a vicious cross punch square to the centre of the imaginary bullseye Kazuki had put on Allens head. Using the wrench of his arm to add to his pivot, it would be mixing the two forces into one amalgamated mass of impact, and though hardly likely to be a one-hit knockout, the blow would almost certainly make a, well, make an impact.

As always, however, concessions had to be made. The punch Allen was making to his midsection would thus impact without obstacle, and likely with a little more force than had initially been planned on the taller youths part, but in the end, it was a gut-punch in exchange for a shot to the face. A good trade in his favour, he imagined, and as a sharp exhalation escaped his lips, an audible grunt of discomfort from the sap of air it knocked from his lungs, he scowled briefly as he steeled himself through the blow. This, yes....This would be the first big test for him. If he could take those hits and not feel truly uncomfortable, he might be capable of fighting Adam again without risking his well-being.

Keeping a hold on Allens wrist through the punch, he would let go immediately after the connection (or, indeed, the retaliation) to his attack. Bolting through with a low knee strike, he aimed to strike into the top muscle on his opponents forward leg. He would be counting on Allen having his head slightly out of observation range to see the knee coming, but with little elevation, it would be noticeably difficult for the taller youth to catch and intercept the leg, not least the fact that he would be forced to deal with the two blows coming in relatively quick succession. Were that successful, it would most likely give Allen a seriously painful dead-leg, for want of a better description.

Well, if he could slow the guy down, it simply made the opportunity to exploit his speed even greater.

This, of course, would be the test for Allen. If he was able to compose himself after the initial display of skill from the veteran, to keep his cool, then there would be a real fight on both their hands.

'You'd best pass this test, kid. It'd be a shame if you fell over from those two hits....'

[Allen Daughtry]

'The grab ain't a surprise...'

Just as Allen's right wrist was pinned by Taiku's former jab, and the newcomer's undercut struck his opponent's stomach, the boy was shocked to find the man's formerly defending right arm now in motion for a clean head strike.

'... Should have expected THAT!'

Obviously, with his left arm having just landed on Akimoto's stomach and his right arm tied up, Daughtry had no other choice but to rely on a quick shift of his skull to minimize the damage taken. Thus, as the jab came forward, Allen slipped back his head towards his right side and with his neck pivoting so that his left cheek would take the brunt of the force. He knew the pain would be numbing - and it was, and for a brief moment, the blinding stab felt as if his cheek bone had been fractured. But regardless, after the strike landed, the boy's mind immediately went on to counteract in a way that would land him free from his opponent's clutches - and in the process, leave him hurting more than Daughtry.

After the jab landed, Allen's left fist transformed from a simple ball into a clawed palm, and then instantly snaked up Taiku's chest, bashing his chin from below with a sudden ferocity that was fed by Daughtry's leaning neck motion and his leading leg. Once the chin strike landed, Allen would plant the left hand at the top of Akimoto's chest, then follow through with his now-free right hand, which would rapidly punch towards his opponent's own left temple, his knuckles skewed. His right hand would then lay flat on the man's face as his right elbow and forearm positioned themselves across the opponent's left shoulder and collarbone. The reason for this would be revealed a moment later.

As Taiku suspected, Daughtry hadn't the time to detect the oncoming knee strike destined for his leading left leg, but while the pain would still arrive, the affect was not enough to stop the inevitable finale of Daughtry's attack. With his left hand pinning Akimoto's chest and his right arm holding back his left shoulder area, Allen would use the lead position of his left leg - which now had the energy of his opponent's knee strike passing through and adding to the motion - and the supporting anchor of his right leg to vault his body's weight forward, tackling directly into his opponent's stance. The intent: to not only kill Akimoto's position and force him to crash down with both men's weight upon him, but to also allow Allen to escape long enough to recover and gain the edge. Most of the weight would be sent across Taiku's right side as well, which would - in affect - mean that the boy would land in potential roll position as his left arm would fold and his right add as a new anchor.

The hopeful result would be Akimoto completely on his back, and Daughtry rolling away from his own handiwork, attempting to stand up on his numb left leg, and await for his opponent to stand up for the next attack.

[Kazuki Akimoto]

A satisfying 'crack' rippled through his hand as the fist slammed home into Allens jaw, and Kazuki knew immediately that there was damage done there. He would keep an eye on that cheek, and it might be worth exploiting later if it was left open again...In the meanwhile, he had his feisty opponent to focus on, and it seemed that taking that shot to the face had served to raise his ire considerably.

At their close proximity, the uppercutting punch that had been thrown an instant before was easily felt moving, considering it had to drag against his midsection in order to move, and though he couldn't see what the hand was doing, the logical reason for that was obvious. There was only one good target Allen would be aiming for just now.

'He's this close and trying for my chin? That's an amateur mistake...'

Of course, evading the blow would be pretty much pointless. At this range, any effort to actually dodge was going to be worth nothing considering his lack of real movement, aside from backward, and doing that would put him at an even larger disadvantage than taking the hit. Drawing back his right after the punch, as one would tend to do, he pushed forward off his right foot, the weight shifted to allow him to accent the knee strike as he threw it and advanced in towards Allen. Moving in would cause the hand to push against the right side of his chest, twisting his upper body somewhat into the movement assuming Allen intended to strike with some proper force, and with a lean of his head the blow would instead catch the right side of his jawline, clubbing up against his sinewy neck.

It hurt, there was no doubting it, but it was a damned sight better than taking it to the chin, knocking his head back. This way, he kept his eyes on his opponent and responded viciously. The knee coming through, his left hand free, he was now intent at making clear to himself, the crowd and most of all his opponent just why he was as renowned as he was.

The range meant he couldn't exert as much force as he'd have wanted, but whipping around his left elbow in a slashing motion as the knee connected, he used the shift of his weight to push it harder than he could have from a static standing position. Aiming to the other side of Allens face, he would hopefully connect just before, if not then around the same time as the punch to his head, a blow that caused a quick flash of white through his eyes as it landed without interference.

By that point, however, his motion would have already gone into play. If his larger foe still aimed to bring him to the ground, then he would indeed do so, but under slightly different circumstances. The knee to the leg landing, the elbow was more of a distraction point.

Aimed to distract Allen from his right hand, that would have grasped firmly onto the younger mans shoulder, gripping the material of his shirt tightly and dragging it towards him. Between the deadening muscle to his leg, the oncoming elbow (whether it would strike or not) and the sudden pull to his opposite side, Kazuki was fairly confident that he'd be able to bring the taller youth down to the ground, using the twist to spin them on their way down and sending Allen into the ground first.

There was a last, potential benefit to this, though it was circumstancial enough that he gave it little thought. If they landed as Kazuki had intended, Allen would end up getting struck by both the knee and the elbow a second time as the older Asian landed partly atop him a fraction of a second later...

[Allen Daughtry]

The veteran's skills were surfacing in a sudden boil from the heat of their battle. After evading the brunt of his oncoming palm strike aimed for Akimoto's chin with a shift of his weight, Daughtry was then met with a sharp, instantaneous knee kick to his upper leg, firing a rapid sensation of pain through his body. Worse, Taiku continued to attack with a rapid elbow slash with his left arm, and his right hand lunged out with the shifting of his body to grab Daughtry's shoulder and what little shirt covered it. So, with his leading leg losing strength, his opponent's balance closing in with the position about to deadlock, and a new attack flying forward, Allen was convinced that his original plan to toss his opponent down to the ground was futile.

However, as the newcomer made a combined effort of evasion and balance reinforcement by arching his back and shifting his head back and to the left, with his chin pivoting towards his captured shoulder to allow Akimoto's oncoming elbow strike to simply slash across his right cheek - the uninjured cheek, as an elbow slash to the injured jaw would have been crippling - he realized a simple fact: while both of Taiku's arms were on the offensive, both of Allen's hands were in direct contact with his opponent's head, allowing for an ample counterattack of dangerous repercussions.

'It'll have to be fast and rough, or else those hands of his will be right of top of me, but if I can do it right...'

Since Akimoto's right hand was clinging to Allen's right shoulder, and his body weight was shifting forward as his right leg was briefly in the air - though not for long, as it was only a knee kick - it not only meant that Taiku was momentarily open to be shifted back, but also that Allen's own previous attempt to shift them forward was nulled, and since only his leading leg was wounded, his anchored leg was left to hold the weight as it had been, leaving his own position safe.

Thus, when the elbow passed over his right cheek, Daughtry kicked his arms into action, starting with his left arm. Since it had been left to strike Akimoto's lower right jaw and never properly countered, Allen then instantly began to withdraw the limb with its elbow cracking outward in a corner-shaped fashion towards the forearm of Akimoto's left arm, connecting briefly before following Allen's left fist as it formed into a knuckled fist and struck into his opponent's upper right cheek. Following soon thereafter, the right hand that jabbed Akimoto's left temple also began to withdraw with its elbow cornered, in a form and speed identical to that of its predecessor, and then followed with a similar knuckled punch directly into Taiku's upper left cheekbone, hoping to toss his head farther back, not only disorienting him tremendously, but preventing his ability to aim his left arm for a possible counter attack.

Having attempted two clean hits, Allen was confident that both hits would land at least partial damage - in the unlikely event that Akimoto shaved off one hit with a pivot of his head, he would only open himself to the next. Therefore, if both of Allen's hits landed and his left arm was left free for the second following its attack, Daughtry would immediately launch a potential undercut to Taiku's diaphragm by withdrawing his left arm's elbow downward and then only jabbing forward briefly to make the hit. Allen would not do the same or any other sort of attack with his right arm; he felt suspicious of Akimoto's left arm, so he would simply withdraw his right fist to prepare a defense.

Finally, in terms of Allen's own balance, he was still in the same stance as before, even with his leading leg, but had since transferred his point of weight towards his right leg even more, allowing him to slide his left side back in the event of another attack on his wounded leg.

[Kazuki Akimoto]

Glad to see the gung-ho nature that his opponent seemed content to retaliate with, the elder male felt a massive surge of adrenaline begin to explode through his veins, empowering him with a sense of confidence that he'd come into the fight with, but hadn't actively felt until now. As Allen began to make efforts to retaliate, the movements began to roll together between the pair in a macabre sort of rhythm...

The back-swing of Allens left arm, retracting from the strike to his jaw an instant before, curved under his arm during the intended drag off balance. The backwards motion was a clear indicator of what was coming, though, and it was clear that he couldn't do a whole lot to prevent it. Somehow, oddly, he didn't seem to care terribly. He was almost interested to see how he'd take the blow coming, and turned his head only slightly to prevent taking the full force onto his cheekbone, instead taking a large portion of the impact on his ear.

The ringing that followed was an irritance, but drowned out by the steady 'thump' of his blood pumping through his head, the far more notable side-effect of the punch. By no means would he discount it as a 'weak' punch, but having been clubbed with one of Adam Rydells punches enough times, he could morbidly note that this hit was much more...palatable to take, for want of a better explanation.

'Of course, he won't be getting given that many freebies, not if I have any say in the matter. An eye for an eye, I think....'

A brief flicker of a grin emerged, and he lunged like a beast the instant after the blow to his cheek landed. The punch startled his momentum enough that, after the initial whip of his elbow ended a few moments before, he was able to torque back like a coiled spring let loose, his kneeing leg returning to the ground and solidifying his foothold once more. His arm extending fully, the elbow bending back to its natural position, he set to slam the backhand of his left fist into the already damaged cheekbone of his taller opponent. Allen might well have had his right hand prepared for a defence, or perhaps even to throw a strike, but unless he was throwing both blows simultaneously, he would have to forfeit one or the other. No less, it was his opposite arm, and reaching over to defend would be less effective than if he had his left arm free to do so.

Drawing his right arm back, forgoing the effort to try and topple his taller foe, he brought it closer to his body, preparing to defend against whatever might be thrown at him during the heavy swing he was making. The shot to the cheek, if it was successful, would almost certainly be enough to stagger the larger fighter. That spot of his face had already been caught badly once in this fight, a second might not be a knockout blow by any means, but the additional pain brought by it would likely be enough to shock Allen into a scurrying defence, if not to actually make him retreat a few steps back.

Of course, even if it wasn't successful, the fact that the smaller, older fighter was aiming to target the already weakened spot might spook the younger man into backing off in self-preservation. Fights like this might be about the strongest attack, but the best defence was equally important. There would be no shame in doing so, Kazuki thought, because he would almost certainly do the same in lieu of the circumstances.

[Allen Daughtry]

OOC: Unfortunately, I'm not feeling at my best right now, as my head's unfocused and out of touch a bit, so I'll have to wait until tomorrow to get this reaction up. Sorry folks.

[Kyukaku]

What a good read, even if I felt like I was reading yet another novel from you two. Sadly, I have to pick a winner. I gotta say, if the last post was ever written it may have played a large role in helping decide the winner. Taken whats given however, I'm going to have to give it to Kazuki.

Still, John, if you keep fighting more you're going to be a hell of an opponent.

Grats old man, you move on yet again!