Open A Profitable Diversion (Jax)

[Razkar]

"How much are you talking?"

"Less than too much, but more than a little," Razkar said with corkscrew honesty and a slight smile. He thumbed over his shoulder and waited for the boy to follow him. "You'll get a decent lesson, that much I guarantee you..."

He opened the back door and the stench of a Sunberth alley struck them like a fist. Then again, Sunberth seemed to be made of alleys, boltholes, nooks and crannies, crooked lanes and cul-de-sacs... and all of them had been soaked in rotting meat and fresh shit. The Myrian crinkled his nose and tried not to breath in too deeply; he guessed the inhabitants just got used to it young.

"This should do."

The alley behind the Pig's Foot as like most others, save a few signs of Merv's business. A line of garbage pails lined the opposite wall from the door, maybe twenty feet away. A chicken coop and a modest pig pen were next to it, snuffling and clucking examples of Caiyha's grace peering in surprise at the new faces. Razkar went over to the "cleanest" pail and tossed his cloak across it.

"Don't worry about paying in advance," he said airily, cracking his head from side to side on his shoulders and then adding without any trace of arrogance or threat, "You won't be running away."

The Myrian held up his hands and then flicked his fingers towards himself.

"Come at me. No more than that, boy. This is Sunberth, not the Training Yards of Taloba. No rules here."

[Jax Bradshaw]

"Less than too much, but more than a little, you'll get a decent lesson, that much I guarantee you..."

And with that, the tattooed man walked out of the tavern and into the squalor of Sunberth. It resembled an area after a natural disaster, with litter strewn everywhere and debris of small brick buildings dotted about the place after collapsing under the substantial weight of the snow. Jax didn't want to go outside. Not into the cold harshness of the winter.

Jax grabbed his coat and hunched it around his shoulders, determined not to let any of the cold hit his skin as he followed the gentleman out of the tavern. The coat did nothing to stop the icy winds billow into Jax. Then again, it was a very cheap, thin and tattered one he'd bought years before during a somewhat cold spring. He sighed and walked with the man into a decrepit alleyway.

"This should do," said the tattooed man. "Don't worry about paying in advance, you won't be running away."

Jax chuckled arrogantly in the man's face, trying his best not to show any sign of weakness. To emphasize this, he threw the coat from his shoulders. Bad idea. He froze up almost instantly, but attempted to ignore, believing he would warm up during the spar.

"Come at me. No more than that, boy. This is Sunberth, not the Training Yards of Taloba. No rules here."

There he went with calling Jax 'boy' again. That gave Jax the bit of courage he needed. The blue-haired man took up a fighting stance and circled around the man. Finally, after a few moments, Jax swung a clenched right fist towards the tattooed man's nose.

I'm a God and it's judgement day.

[Razkar]

The boy has form, at least.

Razkar did not will his gnosis into being as Jax circled him, the two of them like alley cats fighting over their stretch of filthy cobbles. It would be an unfair advantage, and he wanted to stretch his own muscles, not just the ones blessed and strengthened by Myri.

The fist flew towards him and the Myrian saw it a blink before the punch was birth: the dropping shoulder, the sudden clenching of the arm-

-his left forearm jerked up and to the side, knocking Jax's own blow up and away-

-but Razkar's own right was moving at the same time, smooth and precise, just as that hulking Akalak Kevlar had taught him season before in the dank, basement of the Blue Bull Tavern-

-aiming a short, sharp punch just beneath the human's throat. Not enough to crush his larynx, but enough to make breathing... challenging, for the net few ticks-

-following it up up the blow with a swift kick just under the boy's left kneecap. Once again, the Myrian would be restraining himself. Brutalizing and near-crippling the boy would teach him nothing, after all.

"Not bad at all," he planned to say as Jax tumbled back, voice educational and firm, "Good form, fine focus... were it not, I'd have just slid out of the way. You forced me to block, to commit my body. That's good. Don't let your enemy dictate the flow of battle. But a punch, in a brawl? A bad way to start, boy. You might as well send them an invitation. Your shoulders, your tension, the way your lips press together before you throw the punch... all bad. Best to start with a head butt or a knee in the balls. Much more damaging. Try again."

[Jax Bradshaw]

The sudden counter of Jax's attack took him by surprise. It had happened in a flash. At first, he'd felt a sharp pain in his throat before another in his left kneecap. After that, he'd been thrown to the ground, in a brief moment of pain and relative agony, but it vanished after a few seconds.

"Not bad at all, good form, fine focus... were it not, I'd have just slid out of the way. You forced me to block, to commit my body. That's good. Don't let your enemy dictate the flow of battle."

Jax grinned in the man's face before the tattooed guy spoke again.

"But a punch, in a brawl? A bad way to start, boy. You might as well send them an invitation. Your shoulders, your tension, the way your lips press together before you throw the punch... all bad. Best to start with a head butt or a knee in the balls. Much more damaging. Try again."

Jax lay on the floor for a bit before slowly regaining his footing, albeit shaky. He edged himself closer to the tattooed man, attempting to look as though he posed no threat whatsoever. Once he was close enough, Jax smiled, offering out his hand. But, before his opponent could take Jax's hand, Jax slammed his knee into the man's gut and, if that connected, he proceeded to throw a fist into the guy's right cheekbone with his left fist.

I'm a God and it's judgement day.

[Razkar]

A touch indelicate, but it shows he's getting the point.

"Good," he said with a sly, almost sadistic grin, not fooled for a moment but content to play along, "Make nice, apologize, calm him down, and then-"

As expected, Jax's knee jerked up, aimed straight at his gut-

-and Razkar's left hand went from reaching to shake to slamming down, forming into a fist and hammer atop the boy's knee before it connected, feral grin gleaming sickly in foggy Leth-light.

"-crucify the cun-"

But before he could launch his counter or even finish his sentence, Jax was already adapting, evolving as the fight did, and when Razkar's head was snapped back by a hurried left hook, a little voice sniggered at him through the haze of pain and sparkles.

Talking when you should be fighting, boy? Time to heed your own advice. Now focus and react!

As his head whipped around Razkar lashed out blindly with his left leg, aiming to sweep his opponent onto the cobbles-

-right hand grasping behind him, finding the handle to the lid of a garbage pail-

-which he'd then bring around harsh and low as he crouched, vision clearing little by little, aiming to land a clanging swing across the prostate Jax's torso with his odd choice of weaponry.

If that's how it goes, anyway, he reminded himself as his body flew into action. Boy learns fast, after all...

[Jax Bradshaw]

"And that's..--"

Jax ended his sentence in a hurry as the man lashed out a foot aimed at Jax. The blue-haired male instinctively threw himself back from the lunge, clearing himself of any immediate danger and allowing himself to assess the situation and make some better decisions because, so far, the tattooed man had been the better fighter out of the duo.

"Petch, that was clo..--"

Razkar lashed out again this time, but with a garbage lid. And this time, Jax wasn't quick enough the dodge the attack. It connected just on his left hip and caused Jax some harsh pain. He held the affected area and limped around a bit, trying to take his mind off the hindrance.

Suddenly, Jax launched himself into the man's gut, in an attempt to take him to the floor, hard. As they grappled, Jax tried to slam his knee into the man's gut and, if that hit, Jax headbutted Razkar as his head would have shot up from the previous blow.

I'm a God and it's judgement day.

[Razkar]

The sparring session - if you could call two men brawling like animals amid pig shit and garbage that - was getting interesting for the Myrian. His opponent had neatly (if barely) avoided his sweep and was walking off the blow to his leg-

"No! You force the pain away!" He barked, suddenly serious, as if remembering he was getting paid to learn him a lesson, here. "Think your enemy will give you a chance to walk it off in a brawl? He'll keep hold of this-" he tossed the lid away "-and beat you with it until you can't stand, then keep beating you until you meet your gods! Don't back away, attack-"

Once again, Jax applied the lesson immediately. He lunged and tackled for the Myrian, but this time Razkar was ready... or, at least, somewhat non-plussed. It was a theoretically sound but practically risky move: tackling your enemy down, yes, get on top of him, yes, beat him down, yes.

But you have to bring him down first, boy, and until then, he's towering over you.

The second the two connected Razkar dug in his heels, only backing up a step of two before countering-

-slamming his right elbow hard into Jax's lower back; his kidney, guaranteeing a whole new dimension of pain, weakness in his legs and blood in his piss the next day-

-once, twice, then-

-he slid to his side, just enough for Jax's down, butting head at his waist to go to his side-

-and he wrapped his arm around his neck, stalling the headbutt before it even began, keeping the kid doubled over-

-until he roared with the effort and twisted around, trying to carry the boy with him, holding him by his neck-

-planning to let go at the apex of the whirl, throwing Jax into the line of garbage pails with a sound like a rain of bricks on a scrap metal yard. After that, Razkar would be breathing harder, a sheen of sweat on his face, even in weather that made his breath fog.

"Better! Much better. But... mind your surrounding. And if you're going that low, boy? Go for his legs. Pull 'em up and put him down that way. And if you can just throw the bastard into something hard and large, do it. Again!"

[Jax Bradshaw]

The sudden counter from the tattoo clad man came as a shock to Jax. At first, he was shoulder-first into the guy, then suddenly he was feeling a deep back in his kidney region. He then felt his legs almost give out from under him. Not good.

The man grabbed Jax around his neck tightly, nearly cutting off his air supply. Then, he felt his legs lift off the floor and, the next thing he knew, he was in the air and finally collided with a line of garbage pails. That... that was the worst pain he'd felt in a while.

"Better! Much better. But... mind your surrounding. And if you're going that low, boy? Go for his legs. Pull 'em up and put him down that way. And if you can just throw the bastard into something hard and large, do it. It'll hurt him more than you will..."

Jax groaned as he pulled himself out of the garbage, before an idea pinged around in his head. He lay himself back down in the garbage, feigning injury. As the man let down his guard, Jax suddenly threw some of the garbage in Razkar's direction, aiming for his face.

As the man was distracted, Jax launched himself up and at Razkar. Jax slung his knee into the man's genitals. As the man hunched over, Jax swept the guy's legs out from under him with his other leg. Jax forcefully kicked Razkar in the ribs before getting atop the man and throwing punch after punch in his face.

[Razkar]

Oh, gods, I went and bloody broke him...

Never trust your enemy, especially when you're fighting him. Razkar had heard that a dozen times a season back in Taloba, and now he'd forgotten it. Your enemy would deceive you, fool you, make you think he was everything but what he was... chiefly of all: wounded.

"C'mon, lad," he said with a roll of his eyes, walking slowly over to the groaning boy rolled in on himself, clutching at his stomach, "It wasn't that bFUCK!"

The boy blurred and Razkar's hand shot up, but too slow to stop the slurry hurled at him, blinding him with its stink and acid-like bite at his eyes. He staggered back and wiped them clean but by then the human was up, up and lunging-

"Little fucking-"

-and Razkar just managed to jerk his hands down, sloppily but just stopping the blow that would have put his balls into his throat-

-but not the quick sweep that came half a tick later. Razkar had to admit: the boy adapted fast.

His legs went airborne and his body followed them, cobbles slamming into his back as Jax swept them away, impact jarring every bone he had, watching the kid rear back and launch a kick at his ribs-

Alright, fuck this.

-but it never connected, not if Razkar timed it right. Both his hands jerked up to catch the leg at the foot and ankle. If he made it, he'd twist, hard, enough to throw Jax off-balance and send a fresh Hell of pain sparking through his leg-

-before he pulled him down hard, aiming to have Jax on his back right next to him-

-and before Jax even shook off his landing Razkar would hammer a backhanded left fist into his chest, knocking the wind out of him-

-before his right reached over, gripped the side of the boy's head-

-and slammed it hard into the cobbles. Much could go wrong, much could fail... but the boy was trying hard, and wasn't fading. So, he'd have to teach him a fresh lesson.

OK, my bad...I shouldn't have god-modded your character's actions, because now you're doing it. In fact, you started doing it when you assumed Raz would have fallen for your ruse.

See my reply above? That's how you SHOULD do it... and how I should have been doing it, too. You present your moves as if they MIGHT work. You see the future tense? I WOULD do this? It allows you to write your combat without godmodding your opponent. As far as whether or not the blows will land, it depends on the level of realism (XP stats of both writers), and how willing your partner is to abide by that.

I've been called on this before and I suppose I set a bad example, so I won't ask for you to edit. Just be careful of it next time. Remember: write your blows as you'd LIKE them to happen, not on the assumption they HAVE happened.

I've gone through and edited all the other replies where I did the same thing, make it a lot less "my way or the high way". Thanks for understanding, mate.

[Jax Bradshaw]

Jax smiled as he successfully tackled the man down to the ground. But it was so short-lived. Oh so short-lived. Like many of Jax's little victories over his opponents. It always blew back up in his face. Jax scolded himself as the guy turned the tables in the fight... once again.

The man grabbed Jax's foot as he tried to kick him in the ribs, and twisted it... hard. The pain shot up through Jax's leg as though somebody as pierced it with nails at the same time. Suddenly, the man pulled Jax down onto the floor beside him roughly, and that didn't do much to help the pain either. But, Jax was a quick learner and half expected what was coming next.

Jax willed himself to roll out of the way of the incoming fist and managed to just do so, although he felt the knuckles skim his back as he turned. Jax pushed himself up from the ground, albeit shakily. He turned to Razkar, growling somewhat before launching an attempted kick into Razkar's head.

If that connected, Jax would proceed to try and get atop Razkar again and throw a flurry of punches into the man's head.