Unsanctioned Brawl (Odin, spectators)

[Ari Karamzov]

While Ari Karamzov was not stupid, in some ways he was a rather simple man. This extended to his interests as well as his lifestyle. More than anything else, the 6'11, 273 pound monster loved to train. Even more than fighting itself, the act of exercise at times seemed to be among the few things capable of making him happy. Maintaining his physique and staying prepared for Fighters' League matches, wrestling competitions, and just fights overall required hours upon hours of hard work, to which he attended vigourously. At times when a day's events left him too angry to think, a few rounds on a heavy bag or some weight training never failed to calm him down. Some nights he literally could not sleep unless his muscles were burning, crying out for a reprieve from the constant exertion and the chance to absorb some oxygen. Another side effect, mostly unnoticed by him, was that he tended to be a much more pleasant person, far less aggressive, after and during a workout.

Because of this, the MMA gym owned and operated by an elderly but tough-as-nails Korean War veteran named Nielsen was almost like a second home to Ari. Wilson had told him about Ari before the fire, and when Nielsen heard Ari was back in town he was all too happy to take him in. Ari quickly grew to respect the 75 year old man, who despite being perfectly willing to take Ari's dickish attitude at times was also all too capable of kicking his ass if he really wanted to. While Nielsen moved around the gym, keeping an eye on people and occasionally stopping to give someone pointers, Ari continued to pummel the heavy bag. Every time his gloved fist made contact with the sand filled bag it sounded like a small explosion as it went flying and a noticeable dent from the impact appeared on the bag. Jab, jab-straight, jab-straight-move in-uppercut to body, jab-left hook to body, he could not help but imagine the sheer amount of blunt force trauma he would inflict on an opponent hit by such shots as combo after combo effortlessly flowed from muscle memory. Nielsen had told him to focus more on the speed of his punches and combinations than the brute strength, but he could not help it. Even when he tried to be quicker and hit more lightly a hit from him was like that of a freight train.

Regardless, the bell signalling the end of the round rang through the gym, causing all to stop their current workout for the one minute given as a break. Stepping away from the bag and wrestling off the gloves Ari could not help but notice that his t-shirt was now heavy with his sweat. He had been in the gym for a few hours now and was just starting to work up a good heavy sweat, some of which he wiped off of his brow with his hand once the gloves were off and held in his left arm. He would place the gloves next to his training bag on one of the benches before heading to the water fountain for a quick drink. It was the Christmas/New Year break and he had yet to hear from Dain about his next League match, but despite the warnings from his roommate that he would burn himself out Ari continued to work out as hard as ever if not harder. It was paranoia in a way, he feared that even an instant slacking off would ruin all his progress, cause him to become weak. After having had to fight for his and his family's survival for so long, becoming weak once more was the last thing he wanted. Walking away from the fountain after a few seconds though, he had the oddest feeling that someone was following behind him. Suddenly stopping and turning his head slightly so he could look over his shoulder to the person whom he assumed was another gym patron, he spoke loudly and clearly.

"Can I help you?"

[Odin Reeves]

“Yeah, go a few rounds with me?” Odin asked in such a way that it seemed more like a request then a question, a request he assumed would be meet without any delay. This was shown in his body language as he turned around and walked over toward the wrestling mats laid out in the middle of the exercise circle. He never once turned back to look at the giant of a man trapped in a teen-ager’s body, as he’d be meeting him face to face in just a few moments. For Odin this was more of a test then anything else, one he had spent all day looking for.

For the last three hours Odin had been traveling from gym to gym, both public and private in search of someone to spar against. He was looking for the biggest, toughest, muscle bound men around that could serve to meet his purpose. Surely he had seen some pretty bulky guys in other gyms, but when confronted they quickly backed down, speaking more about how they kept in shape for health reason’s, not combat. A fine aspiration indeed, but it didn’t suit Odin’s goals. He was nearly ready to go home until he saw the muscle-bound colossus working over the bag in ways unpredicted by such a large man. His combinations were fluid, albeit slower his own, but there was no doubt that he packed more power. And that was exactly the reason Odin wanted to fight him. He’d fought speed-based fighters before, and they were beginning to bore him. They relied on speed, he trapped them on the ground, and it seemed over. Or, he’d trap their movements with precision punching and quick counters. Regardless, mostly everyone had fallen before him. With only three different men beating him in his life things seemed to easy.

But now there was this 6’11, 270lb+ guy whom he assumed was about to take up his offer for a sparring session. Things couldn’t get any better. Taking off his heavy set black hoodie he made present the weights strapped around his waist. In total he had been carrying around an extra thirty pounds all day, not to much in comparison to his body, but extra weight was extra weight. Peeling the Velcro from itself he removed the two separate 15lb pouch carrying weights and dropped him on top his sweater before removing his shoes and track pants. Turning back around he looked over at his opponent, pulling his tee over top his head to leave him in nothing but regular shorts. Knocking his knuckles together he smiled softly, politely asking: “Should I put gloves on before we start, or is bare-knuckles fine with you?”

[Ari Karamzov]

So this random newcomer to the gym wanted to spar with him? Ari couldn't help but chuckle just a small amount at the idea while the person, the view of just who they were slightly obscured by Ari's own hair, headed towards the wrestling mats in the centre of the gym without waiting for Ari to answer. Turning around to face the newcomer's retreating form, he noticed the man was (as most people were) much smaller than him. In terms of weight and bulk he seemed nowhere near Ari's size, and in height he looked to be merely an inch or so short of being exactly one foot shorter than Ari. It was a relief, actually; when Ari first noticed this man following him around and then got a challenge, he had been worried for a second, but it looked like he could crush this guy like a grape. Of course, that wouldn't be quite as fun as the tough fight he had imagined.

Still, this guy seems to know what he's getting into...

As Ari reached the mats, the challenger was removing his heavy-looking clothing, including several weights he had strapped to himself. A rather old fashioned method he had used himself occasionally. Regardless, he started to undo his hand wraps while the challenger did this, looking up to where Nielsen was with an unspoken question. The old man, who had for a second stopped his examination of one of the bags to see what was going on, grinned slightly at Ari and simply nodded his head. The Korean War vet had given Ari permission to pound this guy into the ground. Politely returning the nod while finishing the process of unwrapping his hands (he let them fall to the ground for now, but would pick them up later), the colossus noticed the challenger removing his shirt for some odd reason, rendering him clad only in a pair of shorts. He wasn't sure why the man would do that, but decided he would not remove his own clothing. It was a clever move on the opponent's part though, he'd be much harder to grab this way. Still, Ari's MMA training would prove an asset there.

Hmm...he's got some muscles on him.

This challenger had a stronger build than he had first appeared to have, but no matter. Ari was sure that while this man was quicker than him, he couldn't stand up to his incredible physical strength and power for long. Soon enough though, the man turned around, and while he spoke Ari finally got a good look at him. One look was all he needed to remember just who it was. He had seen this man's Fighters' League match as it had taken place almost immediately after his own, and had heard the rumours that he had won all but one of the tournaments he had entered. Odin Reeves. He had been wrong, this would be a fun fight, and a very challenging one. Much to his surprise though, Odin was very polite in his following query about how Ari wanted to conduct the sparring match. That kind of thing never failed to disarm him; whenever someone was polite to him he always felt compelled to return that politeness, and it always caused any taunts or vitriol he had in store to dissolve. However, his surprise was not apparent as he offered Odin a quick smirk and rolled his shoulders a bit before cracking his knuckles.

"Bare knuckles is fine with me. I always have a hard time finding gloves that fit me anyway. You know though...we have an octagon for this sort of thing."


With that joke Ari would sink into a small crouch, raising his hands so that his right was at his chin and his left a bit in front of and below his left eye, both elbows down and over his torso. This would allow him to have a pretty solid defense while waiting for Odin's move while also allowing a good offense. He would have to be careful with Odin, but that didn't mean he would go easy on him. Some of the fighters noticed what was going on and stopped what they were doing to watch the match, oddly enough Nielsen making no attempt to stop them. The air was starting to get heavy with anticipation as all parties waited to see what would develop from this.

[Odin Reeves]

‘He’s got a strong defense, but the wrong idea.’ Odin took the firm style of defense into consideration as he peppered himself up with a few small jerks with either limb. After tossing them to the side his expression changed from a challenger into opposition. He no longer had a carefree twinkle in his eyes to match the flow of a sparring match. Determination combined with a serious personality automatically changed his into a real fight, only with morals in place of a referee. Only a small gesturing joke lingered in his mind as he took some time to go from stationary to offensive.

‘I hope he’s learned how to punch down.’

It’s true, larger, heavier men have more strength and superior reach, but as proven by other famous boxers and some up and comers it’s different training with a short guy then it is a punching bag. Striking a punching bag means your hitting it with a straightforward motion, either pretending to strike head or body. But, when your fighting someone much shorter their heads in a different place, making those straight forward jabs a downward motion, not the most natural thing even if you are considered a giant. And even worse, unless you belong to a team it’s hard to find someone to train with you when you throw fists the size of cinder blocks. So, who really held the advantage when it came to striking?

With this in mind Odin started to move, casually trotting toward the bigger man. About half way there he switched to a right leg forward stance, using an uncharacteristic southpaw stance so his dominant hand was in front and his faster hand was in back. Since he was actually the shorter fighter - not that this hadn’t happened before - he kept his stance rather short, and remained always on the ball of his feet. He’d have to pepper the giant with jabs to soften him up while setting him up for victory. Odin already had the fight planned out, but made room for variables… But would he really need them?

Closing the distance with quick, soft-footed shuffles he narrowed in on his prey. With a good step or two to go before he was into Ari’s range he strung forward, snapping out his right in a stretching right jab. It was obviously a feint, and wouldn’t be able to reach the larger mans head from that distance, but it was merely a distraction. The jab would return while already being poised to strike, this time from another angle. The lunge forward was the real move, as it brought him much closer while most likely getting a positive reaction from his opponent. His feet would quickly shift and shuffle, his right stepping out to the side with his body as he began to dance to the outside of his opponent’s body, now striking with a second jab from a closer, more direct position – one that was close enough to knock his jaw.