Whats This School Got? (Kvist)

[John Ong]

A transfer student getting his barings. As it may not be the oddest of things it was just that this particular boy came from a rather violant unknown school. Recently shut down, but rumor had reached that there where "Exceptional" fighters, a few 'Elite' individuals that could proove MORE than capable of keeping this Junior in shape. A head of dyed grey short hair, just laying there like a pile of junk swayed with the strides. His dark blue eyes seemed glazed over, but it was just at first glance. Tan skin offset a dark red coat that reached down alittle past his knees, a black no sleeved muscle shirt was under that, tucked under a pair of black jogging pants with a dark purple stripe going down the right leg. A pair of dark brown jogging shoes and he was set.

Not quite sure what to do on his first day, but he sure as hell wasn't going to class. That was a givin', no one goes to class on the first day. That would be like accumilating sick days at work and never using them. No instead his feet carried him around the inside of the school, he was extreamly bored with these people, little if no violance at all. . .

"I thought this school had 'Elite' fighters. . ."

His thoughts finally brought the 17 year old Junior transfer to the conclusion that the fighters where hiding themselves, and mite need some coxing. . . So he brought his right arm up to his own neck level and formed the hand into a fist. A student walked by, and just as he took that step past this Junior the right arm shot backwards with an elbow conecting with the back of the neck, about between the C2 Vertebre known as The Axis and the C3 Vertebre. He would fall forward in some pain. Hopefully someone strong would notice, and the grey haired male could finally see who was a major player in this game.

[John Smith]

Donar Kvist, often known only as Kvist, was in a different world, sort of. Walking in something that could resemble a comatose sleep, he was aware of what his sensed told was there, at the same time, he wasn’t. His stainless metal mask feeling cold despite it being a nice weather outside. His black and fancy clothing felt awkward on him that day. As Kvist walked down the hallway, his mind activity was near zero. An idle gazing of the hallways gave him slow information of when to react, having several near misses with other students. The peaceful students, the non-Varronites struggling with their career starters. The Varronites, struggling with surviving. Kvist turned a corner and he barely registered the new settings at all. He barely registered that a guy elbowed someone in the back of his head/neck, he didn’t see it that well. The guy fell down and hit the ground just where Kvist was going to step next. His dulled reactions didn’t manage to stop him, before his leading foot had stepped down on the guy’s head with some force.

… Sigh, they probably think I did that on purpose.

He lifted his foot off the guy’s head. He placed a palm against his face, he only felt the cold stainless metal of his mask. His long nails dragging down the front of the metal to savour the coldness. He blinked a couple of times before coming back to the world of the living. His bluish grey eyes fell upon the attacker. He didn’t recognise the guy as one of the Varronites who had transferred here, and judging his aggressive nature he wouldn’t be from Hircine. Leaving only one option:
Fresh meat for the slaughter.

A dim smile appeared underneath Kvist’s mask, and he found the reason for his comatose walking. He hadn’t seen or participated in a good fight for a long time. Maybe this guy could give him a run for his money? Only one way to find out. And thus, for one of the first times in history, Kvist attacked rather than plotted.

“Hey. You.” He said sharply to the person. “If you need a job, find me. Now… Defend yourself.” Moving a couple of metres closer to the other guy, he sent a simple textbook left jab at the opponents face. His right hand hovering a couple of inches in front of his chest. Left foot was leading.

[OOC: Splattered into a writers post -.-]

[John Ong]

An eye brow was raied to the person that seemed to be in his own little dream world. John was now beginning to wonder if this school actually had any fighters at all. And a rather hard foot step caught this character off guard, for under his foot was the boys head. Well as odd as his reaction to it was he knew that it meant this person could care less if he stepped on the kids head again and again. John could be wrong, but that was the general feeling he got from this simple action. The dark blue eyes of the Young Transfer student did notice one thing that set him off from the rest,a mask. The 259 School Captain wore a cloth mask hiding the lower half of her face, but this one was alittle more. . . Interesting.

“Hey. You.”

John made a motion with his head and opened his eyes alittle wider so he would understand he was paying attention. Alittle cocky, but not really all that much, just enough to tickle the nerves. At the very moment he was disapointed and under estimating the student body here, which is a mistake in its self to ever under estimate your enemy.

“If you need a job, find me."

~Job? What?~

"Now… Defend yourself.”

~Huh?!~

Now like stated before John was currently under estimating this school. Having been attacked with the simple and straight forward warning, would catch anyone with their pants down. The left jab came in, but with his short yet extreamly violant time at #259 he had a little instinct, and it allowed him to begin to move alittle to his apponents left to catch the punch on the outside, so he could have a shot at an open area, though this guy was fast and it was doubted that Johns reaction time would be enough to completely avoid said punch. The jab conected with John's left cheek ripping a cut in his flesh, he took an inward half syrp with his right leg and sending his left knee up towards the side of the masked guys hopefully exposed ribs.

This guy was fast, and John has had no time to break apart his style, so the jab could of been snapped back fast enough to interfere with John's knee, it was a counter attack that had risk to it, in fact lots of risk. Good news would be now John had his arms at the ready, the right arm raised to protect his right side and right half of his upper body, his left arm at his side, but bent at the elbow and in a fist to be ready just in case.

[John Smith]

[OOC: Terribly sorry for the late reply. My internet and I had a short break from each other, but don't worry, we settled our differences and are back together again. [In other words. Had trouble with my internet, but fixed it, I hope. Btw, not sure I got your post the right way, so correct me if I intrepreted something wrongly.]

Kvist’s opening jab strafed his opponent’s left cheek. His arm continued past his head some; from there it could quickly snap back into a defensive position. He chose not to. It wouldn’t be fast enough to defend from any attacks aimed at his exposed left side chest. And he knew this so he had to react immediately. Reacting instinctively and fast, Kvist turned on the front of his feet. Giving him a worse balance stance than before, but it would do fine for now. Kvist’s chest would follow the natural movement with this. His right side would move to the front and his left side would move back as a result. Giving him more breathing space in case his opponent would strike for the obvious place. Besides, it would help him to drop lower and help to guard from any sweeps.

A knee? Good.

His sole thought when he was moving. Kvist’s right arm swung in and pushed the knee off to the left of Kvist. Giving him some moments where his opponent couldn’t attack him with anything worthwhile. It opened up for a dirty counter. Kvist had never retracted his left arm after the initial jab. As he turned, the arm would turn with him in the same direction. Too bad for his opponent that his head was still close by. Kvist’s lower left arm would be touching his head quickly, and his hand would grab the back of his opponent’s head. He would force it down so he would have a hard time seeing Kvist movements or preparing a workable counter.

As the grand finale on the spin, Kvist’s own right knee would swing up into his adversary’s left thigh. Give him a Charlie Horse. Depending on his opponent’s reactions, Kvist would follow up with a right elbow to his exposed back.

[John Ong]

((OoC: Glad to hear everything worked out. XD))

'Damn it!'

John's faciel expression went from a smile to clenching his teeth as he felt his knee reflected, unfortunitaly John's white haired head was too close to Kvist's arm to do much besides move with it, he had been stuck in the position like this once before, except he was on his knees and the person holding him down thought himself to be a god among men. This guy was just foreceful, as his head went downward he tried to anticipate how far Kvist was going to hold it down. John would resist enough, but once he knew that was as far as things where going he would drop to his knees put his arms to the floor and tilt to his left bringing his right foot around in a sweep, unfortunatly for John, this was also when Kvist threw his knee.

But considering Kvist threw his attack before John could go through his own movements the knee would strike the side of John's head, which would send John off tot he side on the ground. This all depended on Kvist actually going through with his attack and would leave John completely open having to get up fromt he floor. If Kvist didn't throw his knee and noticed what John was doing, then most things would go back to square one, and most likely no one would be any worse off than before.

If Kvist did go through John would be laying on his left side attempting to get over the pain and stand, at the same time tying to keep an eye out for Kvist. The floor was almost never a good position unless you have a plan, sadly John rarely ever had a plan. Rolling with the punches may not have been the greatest philosophy when it comes to fighting, but its what he did.

((OoC: Something to know about me, I dont fight to win or lose, I just like to have fun. As long as everything looks cool, I dont care.))

[John Smith]

[OOC: Better late than never? Right? Been involved with family business and other plots going on. Sorry for the third time. Oh, and for the 'autohit', just ignore the rest of my thread from the strike if it doesn't hit.]

Kvist never backed down when given an opportunity for a strike. Even if it meant he had to take one himself. Call it a weakness or call it a strength. It has saved him on more than one occasion.

He could probably end this fight with a simple knee to the face. It wouldn’t be planned at all, and Kvist had already learned a new trick simply by fighting this guy for a second. The world could still surprise Kvist it seemed. But Kvist didn’t make the blow because of gratitude for the stranger. Instead he used all of his skill to redirect it at something else instead of the head. He redirected the knee into his opponent’s lower chest. It’d have the same effect as if he had hit the head. John would still be propelled away from Kvist, but he would only have a hard time breathing, not a hard time for him to stay awake.

Now, why didn’t I end this fight? Oh bloody hell… I’m going to regret this.

“Get up…”

He placed his foot on the ground again, slowly to save the dramatic experience of it. He smirked, just a little more experience and this guy could do wonders. He ought to destroy him before that could happen; then again, a little healthy competition never harmed anyone. He left his improvised stance and stood like a normal teenager. His hands down in his pockets, his eyes set on the younger boy, wondering if he would attack now, or if he would still be down and get his breath back. Words would be wasted on Kvist. They could talk at some other point, when Kvist or John woke up from a forced dream world. He stretched his legs and felt the pull in the muscles on his calf. He simply waited for his opponent to get back up again.

[John Ong]

John felt the pressure of the knee to his body as his diaphram contracted forcing all the air out of his lungs he was thrown back and lay there on the gorund for a moment, his first reaction from his deals at 259 was to get back side up, and with a spastic motion of his muscles he was on his hands and knees, barely able to hold his head up from the blow. He was trying to wheeze the air in and out, but even that was very difficult. But fighting against the loss of oxygen to his blood stream he forced himself up ward. His arms shaking until they began to show force behind them raising his head. He had clenched teeth and he was holding his breath at times to force his diaphram to release once again.

Kvist wanted John to stand up? Thats fine, he woudl ablige happily, as he pushed himself up to hsi knees, his eyes looked hard at his apponent. At 259 he was known as John the Raging Flame Ong. He had a slight temper problem, but he didn't get overly angry, but it did show in his face when he was slightly ticked off. Keeping himself at the ready as he was actually able to wheeze in a breath he stood, taking to a charge the first step being shaky, but the next to follow becoming stronger.

'Lets go!'

Wehn single points of attack aren't enough to get the job done, then one needs numerous, Muay Thai in some ways teaches you to attack three ways in a single attack. If you can thrust your body forward enough you can throw a knee and two punches, which was a usual attack when you had someone good at dodging to fight, but this one was still getting off the ground so that would be the bad idea, assuming gets one in trouble. So his left foot would go out strait thrusting forward in a stomp kick, which would snap like a whip at the point of where contact is supposed to happen, thsi shot was aimed for Kvists body to push him away, while both arms raised up to protect hsi body and head in the case Kvist got around the kick, which was a high possobility.

[John Smith]

Watching the younger man get up after the strike, Kvist smiled and nodded to the younger man, a knee to the chest wasn’t easy to shrug off, especially not that quickly. But, people had to be more than capable of taking strikes to become something in this world. They have to dish out beatings as well. Then he noticed the changing in John’s face. He was looking angry. An interesting twist to the fight.

He fights with emotion… Nice. They are always the funniest to break down.

Kvist didn’t bother slide into a stance, he felt he could dodge anything this small guy would throw at him. Kvist was around twice as heavy as this guy. It gave Kvist a lot more muscle to deliver into his opponent. It was time to end this fight before Kvist would start to feel his natural weakness build up inside of him. He had to conserve his energy. Wouldn’t be good for his image if he were already gasping for air now. Must be the springtime playing a trick on him. His right arm slammed into the outside of John’s leg, pushing it off to the side. At the same time, Kvist’s right would slide back to bring his body away. Once his right foot touched the ground again, Kvist would make a quick his left leg around and hit the backside of John’s right leg and surely have him fall to the ground, for the second time in this match. Yet, Kvist knew from experience that people often found strange ways out of traps, and was prepared for a defensive manouvre.

[John Ong]

John was positive that his attack would be deflected from just earlier in the fight, and he didn't let it touch the ground, insted he waited for Kvist to throw the kick at his leg, turning away from it he would do a back hand spring and bring the same leg around to kick Kvist in the side of the head, hopefully that would work, if not oh well. This was a simple yet difficult manuever, he may not have had much time in gymnastics, but he always did like doing tricks for people. Never really thought it would help out in a fight, he tried to do it as fast as his little body would go, and once back on his feet and off his hands he would fall back into that boxing like stance.

There where way too many posibilities to be ready for with this attack, which made it fun. With endless possibilities for the future, something can look awesome and still hurt someone, but John's attention with his hearing went to some passer by that was going to try and interfere. Now we certainly couldn't have that until a victor was chosen. But John's chest even hurt to breath, not to mention that back handspring didn't exactly aid the recovery of said chest. But he would give his best shot to get the kid to walk away.

"Get outa'. . . My way."

He would speak to the other guy to make sure he left. This was a 1 on 1 fight, honor may nto be much of an upheld ritual now a days, but John Ong had an honor code that would be followed damn it.

((OoC: Which means go away I believe this is for me and Kvist hence his name in perenthasis in the title. Also my apologies for the crap quality I'm pinching for time.))

[John Smith]

Skills...

His foot simply continued unhindered through the air. That was never a good thing. That meant your opponent had evaded the strike. This time. Kvist would make sure it would only be this time. His foot scraped across the floor before he stopped it dead. A show for the non-existing crowd. To Kvist's surprise. He saw a foot lifting for his face. Meaning one thing. His opponent was down on his hands. Or hand. It was a gamble. A dangerous gamble. But Kvist loved gambles. And the worse the odds were the more fun. His upper body went down below the incoming kick. Turning on the toes of his right foot he brought himself into position. The recent growth spurt had left Kvist with some balance issues that he still had to work out. So just to be on the safe side. His left hand touched the ground and supported the weight of his upper body. Once the weight was in order, the right foot lifted it self up in a bend state. And. In an instant. His foot would be shoot out at his opponents chest. Whether or not it struck the chest or a blocking limb. Kvist knew that his opponent would have a hard time keeping on his feet. Or in this case. On his hands. Much harder time doing a workable counter.

... That pay bills. But that was too damn close. Find the baseball machine and train after school.

Kvist would quickly retract his leg after extending it. Depending on how John reacted, he would either make a forward roll to get away if in danger, and if safe from danger, he would simply get up again. He would look directly at the one who interupted. Not say a word just stare at him. Kvist felt like crushing his face into the wall repeatedly until he would stop breathing. Two words: Self control! He already had an opponent here and he was good enough to cause trouble if he got a chance for a cheap shot.

"It's never wise to interupt a fight. I'll forgive you this time. But only if you run along now- and if you dare to show your face near me again, I won't be so lenient. Now go." He stared at the guy for some more seconds to make sure he left. Then he pointed a finger at John.

"Come again."

[OoC: I'm a bastard, I know it. =D]