Locked Out (Open)

[Jonathan Michaels]

"Motherfucker..."

The word was said in a hushed voice as if scared to let people know of the general stupidity that had lead to his current situation, really the ever-so superior Jonathan Michaels couldn't really deal with the stupid (albeit fitting) comments that would come from this latest development. Though a lot of people would assume exactly what happened as he stood right next to a 1988 Toyota Camry with a now mangled up wire anger shoved down the right window, he was sweaty, frustrated and now not even his own sense of self worth could escape the oncoming facts: he was a friggin' idiot.

Today shouldn't have been different from any other day, after school he simply walked down to the parking lot in search of the ever familiar safety of his 1988 Toyota Camry, yes the car's windows couldn't be rolled down (electric windows that have been shorted out before Jonathan was even born), the breaks had a five second delay to them, and the AC barely managed to get above a temperature comparable to a dogs hot breath, but nonetheless it was his car. Now normally after school he would've gotten in the car and driven straight to the gym to spend the rest of his night talking crap with the elderly owner and then have a friendly spar with another of the gyms denizens. Instead he gained a rather big lesson in consistency.

About half an hour ago he went to his car, opened up the drivers door, started the car up and just as he was about to back up and leave the strong-hold that was Hircine High he decided to step out of his car and wait for the AC to cool it down a bit more. Just like he always did when he walked out of his car, just as he had done for the past year that he had been driving, he locked and closed his drivers door. About a second after this he realized exactly what he had done and now he stood outside his car, the keys playfully sitting in the ignition, the car revving to go as the gas meter moved closer to the letter “E” with every passing second.

The first thing he did was run up to his dorm and pick up the hanger, hoping that no one would notice the running car and not have the lack of want to break the windows and drive off with it that he had. He supposed that whatever force was watching him at least granted him with the luck to avoid that scenario and with the wire hanger in hand he the preceded to go on the epic journey that would be trying to pop this lock and head to a nearby gas station as soon as possible, never to mention this moment again.

Unfortunately, HBO movies make popping the lock to a car seem all to easy and that is where we are now, as a frustrated Jonathan Michaels tried desperately to get in his car all the while keeping the thoughts to either A.) Get some help or B.) break his window at bay. His mind felt some elation as he finally felt the hanger click in with where the lock would be placed and as he pulled on it he felt his grip slip and noted that the hanger was now coated in the slickness of his own sweat and he was now incapable of popping the lock.

“Well I doubt this day could get any worse...”, he said to himself as he took a few paces away from the car and sighed in anger.

[Jonathan Michaels]

"The main problem is...", Jonathan hesitated a bit, obviously nervous to let the fact that he was locked out of his car, especially by his own hands, be revealed to the newcomer. The boy was tall and a bit older than him from the looks of it, while the boy did tower over Jon and was about the same weight as him (he would guess) the most significant feature would have to be the boys face which was shockingly disfigured. Spending only a second staring at it and then turning his gaze back downward Jonathan was once again deep in thought, normally he avoided talking to shady people like this on principle (after all only shady people get people in trouble), the problem being that the boy had talked to him first and that Jon himself had already started an answer.

Wasting this time trying to think up an answer is only making me seem slower and stupider than I want to be and who knows he might be the type of guy whose buttons are pressed when you don't give him a speedy response.

"The main problem is," he continued, "That I happen to be locked out of my car and that I'm prolly going to miss training for the night.", he chuckled a bit, "And knowing my luck you're probably going to be mugging me any moment at that."

Opening with a joke? I suppose that might appeal to the guy, but he also seems like the type that'll be angry at someone for taking the wrong tone. Considering that I've never seen him before he's probably a Varron transfer which usually means he's some kung-fu master or about to blast me away with a hadoken or something.

Or maybe not considering the wounds on his face.

"Anyways, the names Jon, anyway you think you can help me without busting open my window?"

[Jonathan Michaels]

Fighting. Now that was something Jonathan could talk for hours about and the fact that Kai had said that he had a fighters look about him only served to increase his ego, the point being though that he really did enjoy talking about fighting. Sizing Kai up he noted that the boy was pretty lean, so if he did practice a style it would probably be a kicking style or one that involves creating distance between themselves and the opponent, lanky fighters are usually by a rule outside fighters and Jon knew that he could easily overwhelm an outside fighter so he felt no hesitation as he spoke.

"Mostly boxing, trying to separate myself from it and looking for other people to spar against to practice my Jujitsu and kicks, boxing itself is more about point scoring than actually disposing an opponent...so y'know I need a bit more variety.", he smiled a bit before continuing, "You? I personally would guess Capoera or Tae Kwon Do, mostly because they’re getting a lot more popular and guys with your build are naturals for it...”

Jonathan resisted the urge to wince as he noted the fact that he was talking like an eight year old school boy, he noted though that he probably could spar against the guy. The builds themselves provided a good contrast and the similar weights would mean good practice for actual fights in the UFC (in which he could be paired up with a guy who is this tall, but a similar weight).

“Yeah, well thanks for fixing the car, I would’ve had a broken window and a hand to accompany it in the next hour if it wasn’t for you.”

[Jonathan Michaels]

It was strange.

That was truly the only word for it as Jon came face to face with what could only be described as an odd parallel of his own habit to shamelessly go on rambling about his own thoughts to parties that he was unsure cared at all. Jon nodded as he continued listening to the boy, but opened his own car and turned off the ignition, normally he wouldn't have bothered and he noted that the coolness of the car that would disappear in a few minutes in the heat would never be recovered, however as he listened to the boy list his fighting style, well he felt that he would be here for awhile.

Partly due to the generalization of the boys talents and partly due to his own natural curiosity to test the "I dabble in a bit of everything", response. As the boy then went on to explain his moral compass and exactly why he was fighting Jonathan came to terms with the childishness in his own reason for training, it had nothing directing it beyond plain ambition to be the best middleweight fighter in the world or at least the best professionally recognized middleweight fighter -as he didn’t care if some crazy Tiger Style practitioner could beat him-. As Kai spoke of such things as Peace and the worrying of whether or not your classmates could kill you in the hallways (and get away with it), he found himself gaining a whole new sense of perspective on the whole reason for fighting in general and due to the fact that he had long since pushed out the childish “I fight to protect people” ideal out of his head, it was interesting to see a boy his age personify it.

Though he knew he was soundly mistaken if he thought there was anything noble about Kai’s speech, his statement that he would do anything to maintain order floated in between a concerned police man to a totalitarian dictator, considering the burns and the fact that the boy was a Varron transfer he was more inclined to the latter. Despite this, Jon was more inclined to believe that Kai was actually a good person who had been exposed to a lot of bad things, a vigilante. As he heard the boy end his statement resolutely and then follow it up with a goodbye that seemed forced and out of place, his eyes widened as he stepped out of his car, put his keys in his pocket and spoke rather loudly.

“You know, I would pay good money to spar against someone as well versed as you.”, his tone was lightly laced with sarcasm as the notion of someone dabbling with everything floated from truth to bullshit in his mind, “We should seriously fight sometime, nothing serious, just a spar.”

As he took off his class ring and placed it in his pocket, he smiled uneasily, sincerely hoping that he wasn’t about to go fighting the master of the Buddhist Palm or something.

[Jonathan Michaels]

45-9-6 30 KO's

There would be four three minute rounds in each fight (on the grounds that with the exception of the national circuit) and the majority of his fights not going past the second round, that being pure boxing and giving him six minutes to knock out opponents he felt slightly less hurt by the "Five Minute" fight, instead he reacted to it as being more than enough time to fight his opponent.

Sizing the boy up he once again noted the burns, for some reason he knew that there was quite the story behind them...if things went well he'd have to ask Kai what crazy parties he'd been involved in. As the smile to his own joke invaded his visage, he got into an average peek-a-boo stance, he didn't note how his own body reflected his status as a power boxer, his hands tightly compacted to his body ready to explode at a moments notice.

"Well, let's get started."

He ended it at that as he somehow got the feeling that once the fight began Kai would respond to anything he said with a fist to the face rather than a grin, it was funny since he had fond memories of conversations he held with other boxers in the ring. His hands tightly compacted to his face, his elbows guarding his body he eyeballed the distance between him and Kai.

Eight Meters.

An average boxing ring was seven meters horizontally, thinking back to his training he recalled how he would run "suicides" in the boxing ring to be able to cross it in a second at most, it's what made him a deadly in-fighter: his dash, along with his punching power. As he stared the boy down, he began the dash, sure enough getting there within a second.

It had been awhile since he had been in an actual boxing match, so he was curious as to if he still had the ability, he smirked to himself and mused that three years out of the tournaments hadn't changed a thing. Noting the boys size Jon used the momentum of his dash to aid in the jab that went straight for Kai's sternum (it was a guard breaking blow mostly), he kept his right hand up even after his left hand came back.

The right would be saved for later.

[Jonathan Michaels]

The sidestep.

He had fought many an outside fighter and had grown to both loathe and gain a sense of a nostalgia for the ever familiar counter-tactic. Not wanting to take a punch he went for the duck, only to find his left hand not returning, he sighed still ducking down the necessary amount, he noted that it was a bit to close for comfort as he felt the devastating blow touch his own hair.

He noted that the boy had still maintained a grasp upon his left and that the arm itself had been stretched out quite a bit, the constant pull of his left arm to get back to his guard stretched out his left arm's captor even more so, keeping Brazilian Jujitsu in mind he realized that this situation would usually befit the use of an arm-bar...well if his left arm hadn't been held captive in the first place.

Of course, what he did have was the right.

The ever trusty Jon Michaels right, back in his hometown it had made him a legend. The Denton Storm they called him, all because of one of the matches in his last state tournament, he managed to knock out his opponent with one punch. It was as quick as a bolt of lightning and just as powerful as said volt, it was quick on the draw and his trump card.

So as to why he went for the uppercut/hook combo that he did would definatly be puzzling for someone who had watched his fights before, a jab to the face would've been far more effective if he was unleashing his right at this moment.

It then became apparent that the punch was going straight for Kai's left arm.

[Jonathan Michaels]

OoC- The back-trip is going with the same logic as you did for the left-arm hold, hopefully it’s not considered god-moding, but if it is we’ll fix it all up when you get on MSN.

As Jon noted his own right failing to connect, he found himself mentally cursing his luck, it was probably a similar emotion to what Kai felt when his "sure fire knock-out missed" and as Kai moved even more behind Jonathan, Jonathan found himself turning likewise (the hold Kai had on his arm actually aided Jon following his movements, whether by intention or by chance), now facing the burn victim Jon really didn't have much time to react before he saw the elbow instead go straight to his forehead.

A fraction of a second and he would've been sprawled out on the floor seemed to be the rule of this match so far and if Jon himself hadn't rose his head to meet the blow (using his own force to cancel out the majority of the blows force) he very well could've been sprawled out on the floor, of course the grittiness of the pain throbbing in his head gave him a sense of concentration that only adrenaline and "not focusing on the pain" could give him as he immediately saw the rising knee.

Instead of taking the blow as he did the elbow he instead formed a nice arch with his hips, retreating his stomach backwards enough to avoid the blow and giving his arms enough distance to grasp said knee (as the blow was now being aimed for the stomach) and grasped the knee while it was risen, now holding a leg Jon employed a tactic that many wrestlers would also be aware of as he placed his own leg behind Kai's and shoved rather forcibly.

The back-trip.

Either way Kai would soon find himself on the floor (as with the amount of force being put into the rather orthodox trip it was practically unavoidable) and Jon preparing to mount Kai (fan-girls please contain yourselves) and go on with the ground and pound.

The only thing stopping Jon from taking the fight to the ground would be Kai's ability to keep him away or getting up, Jon hoped that Kai's skills in those areas where both very little.

The newly risen bump on his forehead told him otherwise.

[Jonathan Michaels]

Fuck.

The word itself seemed to echo in his mind and Jonathan Michaels found himself incapable of another thought as he noted the throbbing of his head (he had never bare knuckle boxed or taken no gloved strikes) along with a general build up of frustration that the mount didn't work, along with the fact that the distance between him and Mr. Schanburg had now grown again to 2 meters...the dash. Well, the dash was already an expected move and he had a feeling that Kai Schanburg wouldn't appreciate being subjected to the move he had already defeated once before.

"It's still your move."

Well, wasn't that kind of Kai? At this point Jon was more content simply countering his blows again and again as Jon noted that he could whether out Kai's blows regardless as to the strength of them. He continued staring at Kai noting how quick his mind was putting things together and how slow time seemed to be passing by, it was the beauty of a fight about how adrenaline seemed to enhance your senses and lower the friction the world has on them.

"Well, you got me didn't you?"

Before Kai got a chance to respond, whether physically or with his own playful banter, Jonathan had already begun the next move. Dashing and then immediately crouching down low, seemingly showing the same pattern as before, though he hoped Kai wouldn't know the implications of this new approach. The dash would simply last less then a second as now it was only to get him within two feet of Kai, the dash would then go into Jon ducking down and springing upward with a hook the looked just a bit like an uppercut, the legs serving as a spring to add to the punch. Usually this was a close-ranged punch, but Jon had used it to close distances between his opponent before.

In a ring the distance would only be about one meter, enough to fuel the punch by any means, but using the small dash as a precursor to the duck-down, he added the speed of the dash to the force of the spring upwards.

A devastating punch to say the least.