|
|
Post by Shamino Warhen Ph.D on Feb 14, 2007 15:35:55 GMT 1
Alrighty. Fall down now.
As Shamino stood, and Odin's arm went straighter due to Shamino's palm thrust, Shamino's right leg kicked out, the back of his ankle quickly striking Odin's as he went to palce down his foot in a retreat. Odin would already be off balance and still trying to catch his breath. He was on guard from a frontal assault by Shamino's trained hands, but Odin must have forgotten about Shamino's trained feet. A quick tug would bring Odin downwards, and Shamino's palm would retreat in a fleeting blur of white, then pound into Odin's stomach as he fell. Try dodging or blocking this while your head hits the pavement, bastard.
|
|
|
|
Post by Odin Reeves on Feb 14, 2007 16:57:44 GMT 1
How many times did such a childish trip actually work? It was rare, and even harder to execute against Odin. His balance was pretty good no matter what he was doing, as long as he had done it before, and stepping back was one of the things he had done. But Shamino’s extension of his right leg was nothing if not fast, but it couldn’t be fast enough to actually catch Odin’s foot as he stepped back, the leg itself was simply to short to reach his moving leg, and wouldn’t do anything to his stationary. Odin ended up with his left leg forward, just as he had wanted.
Snapping out his left fist Odin went for a quick jab, not needing power, especially when this close to his opponent. He was still well in range, but his hands were the object of punishment now, as he doubted the smaller man could strike out with his hands faster then the boxer could. It wasn’t that he was being egotistic, it’s just that realistically, if someone throws the punch first, they’re going to hit first. His quick left jab was followed by another quick shot, a straight right powered by the speed gathered from torqueing his hips and shoulders over, while not leaving him in a defenseless position.
|
|
|
|
Post by Shamino Warhen Ph.D on Feb 14, 2007 17:45:13 GMT 1
Once again, people tell me you have this 'Shamino-wanna-be' aura around you where the second I left, you thought you were king shit and could go making snide comments and say you were amazing. You are not. I should have broken your elbow but I was leiniant. Now you are insulting my intelligence by ignoring my trip. Fix this shit, or I will leave your character in a wheel chair.
|
|
|
|
Post by Shamino Warhen Ph.D on Feb 15, 2007 1:29:18 GMT 1
Alright. So Shamino's foot went inbetween Odin's legs but he was already stepping back. When he was unable to accomplish his goal, his shin would shoot up and hit Odin square in his package, right in his balls. this would halt any plans by Odin, giving him little time to throw a jab as his foot stepped back, and also probably make sure he never had kids, ever. Ding!
|
|
|
|
Post by Odin Reeves on Feb 15, 2007 1:43:13 GMT 1
The groin shot, low blow, small mans equalizer. Whatever someone wanted to call it, it was a painful move for either gender to recieve, no matter the person's size. Odin was no different. Shamino's kicking strike, while not a soccer boot, struck cleaning, causing Odin's legs to twist over in the process. His left leg bent as his right leg extended, putting him into an immediate fall, but in the process gave him some retribution. Because of his quick, downward decsend, Odin's leg muscles spasmed up, most likely trapping the smaller mans foot in the dense muscle of his thighs. His twist to his right, a clockwise motion, would push his left thigh into Shamino's, adding all his weight into the process as he fell.
If the smaller man was lucky, he'd escape with nothing more then a sprained ligement on the inside of his knee, if he wasn't so lucky, many things could be broken.
|
|
|
|
Post by Shamino Warhen Ph.D on Feb 15, 2007 1:56:17 GMT 1
Or he'd fall with Odin.
Shamino turned in the direction of Odin, and quickly upon putting his hands on the floor, slipped his foot quickly out of Odin's legs to drive the back of his heel into Odin's ankle once, and then twice in rapid secession. After these two small, but rapid blows to Odin's ankle, Shamino would turn himself and stand back up, casually walking over and kicking Odin square in the face with the tip of his fancy shoe. While this was still a fight, and Odin would try his best to be 'on guard', the testicles were the second control center of the man, and they gained priority when being hit.
|
|
|
|
Post by Odin Reeves on Feb 15, 2007 4:08:46 GMT 1
If a strike to the groin wasn't enough to end a fight, the actions took afterward were more then enough. Odin's ankle, while not broken, would swell up within a matter of minutes, he couldn't deny this fact, nor could he prevent it. What Odin could prevent however, was the kick to his face. This was an attempt to add insult to injury, something he wouldn't take lightly.
As the foot came in Odin's left hand grabbed the mans ankle, stopping it with little resistance, his right hand grabbing the back of the ankle and giving the leg as much of a twist to it's outside as he could. Granted the move wouldn't be anything to claim victory from the jaws of defeat, but it would prevent facial damage from occuring.
|
|
|
|
Post by Shamino Warhen Ph.D on Feb 15, 2007 6:01:47 GMT 1
With Odin gripping his foot he shook it violently to the left, getting out of the grip just in the nick of time.
I had to win with a straight kick to the balls. How fucking embarrasing.
He spat beside Odin's head, giving another quick kick to the stomach after wrenching his ankle free. "See what you fucking make me do? You Varron kids think you're all fucking tanks. You left your BALLS open? What the FUCK is wrong with you?!" Shamino withdrew from his chest holster a Five-SeveN Semiautomatic pistol, pointing it at Odin's head with the safety already off and the hammer pulled back. Shamino tapped his foot, blinking twice. "Fuck." He said quietly, holstering it with a flick of the safety. "Fuck." He said again, running a dusty glove through his hair. He withdrew a thousand from his wallet, dropping it beside the pained Odin.
"Buy yourself a new fucking beater, and with the change, a new pair of balls." Shamino began to walk towards his parked car, staring upwards. It was suddenly cold... Violently cold. A snow flake fell against his chin, wettening the soot. He stared down at his suit, cursing again. "Fuck it." He opened the vehicle, looking over his shoulder at the downed Odin again. "Lesson learned, kid." Shamino called, getting in the vehicle and turning on the heated bucketseat. He drove a moment, stopping beside Odin and rolling down the windshield. "Wear a Jock." Shamino peeled out of the parking lot.
|
|
