[The Spinning Coin] Awaiting a Challenge (Stitch, open)

by **Elhaym** on September 11th, 2010, 8:14 am

Pain listened to his words warily, trying to keep her fists hovering near her chin. She had regained some clarity and shrugged off the collision of her head onto the mat, but her body still hurt. His words rang true, but Pain couldn't focus on that right now. How was she supposed to control her anger if she gets hit in the face? Wasn't it only natural to get mad? She didn't bother thinking about it too much. What did piss her off was that smile of his. She'd tried to pound him inside out and he was still smiling.

The mat vibrated beneath her feet. Pain shook her head and blinked several times, momentarily assuming she had hit her head harder than she thought. He took another step forward, and she felt the same vibrations. What in the world...?

He was going to attack. Pain didn't know what to expect really, because since the onset of the match she had been the aggressor. She was ready, as ready as she could be. She intended to show him that she wasn't all just wild aggression, that she could be calculating, that she could be...

His attack came fast. It was a basic attack, almost bewildering in it's simplicity. Pain actually hesitated for the tiniest fraction of a second for the shear amount of counters, blocks, and grapples she could accomplish to nullify this move. Something small, in the back of her mind, chimed to her. Block. Nothing fancy.

Pain brought her arms up, but despite her right arm slowly regaining it's form, she was a bit slow. What happened next she could not explain. The impact of his palm on her arm was like an explosion of force, simply harder than she thought possible. She felt a lightning bolt of agony in her face, and her head snapped back along with her entire upper body. Her feet were shuffling backwards with her to keep her from toppling altogether, all the while her mind was trying to process what had just happened. He had hit her so hard her arm had snapped back. The knuckle on her thumb had smashed into the bone under her eyebrow, slicing it open. Her forearm was on fire. How had he hit so hard...?

Pain's view was darkening. It was simply one hard blow to the head too many. Pain was a tough woman, but she hadn't much experience in taking hits. She mostly only delivered them. She could only think of one thing.

"Don't go down like this. Don't make a fool of yourself."

It was either willpower, courage, or stupidity. Pain's torso came back upright after reeling from the blow, but her body was swaying. Her vision was going, and she could feel herself slipping. She still had her best weapon, her ace in the fall...

And in one last ditch attempt to save face, Pain shifted her weight onto her forward foot and began to swivel her hips. Her right leg left the ground, following the same motion technique Stitch would have seen during her pre-match warmups. Her right arm, rushing backwards for momentum. Her left hand, close to her jaw to guard her face. And her right leg, sailing towards him...

... Pain went black. Halfway through the motion of her kick, she lost consciousness. Perhaps it was shear willpower that had kept her up for those last few seconds, but Pain's reserves had dried.

by **Stitch** on September 25th, 2010, 8:05 am

Breath, Stitch. Don't stop breathing. Ignore the blossoming pain in your bones, and simply focus on the breathing. Can you see it, with those special eyes? The flow of the Djed, coursing through your veins. Simply tug it in, then let it go back out. Combine the un-natural with the natural, until it all becomes one. Pull the Djed from your arms, from your legs, and gather it in your chest. Flow it back to where it belongs, and let your body resume it's natural course. Breath again, and once more pull all that energy from your veins. Gather it in your stomach.

His foot solidly stepped down, and he twisted at the waist, flinging his strike forward. He could feel the muscles rippling through his body, all of the momentum travelling up into his arm. Pain was moving to block, her body acting confidently, but her Aura leaking with utter confusion. Her instincts were telling her something was about to happen, but she had no idea what it was. She was confused, and rightly so. His strike was something so painfully simple, so easily avoided or blocked, that it was a wonder he had even thrown it at all. But throughout all of this, he had almost been building up to it. She had caught him off guard in the beginning, but he had soon regained control. He had a cracked collar bone, and an aching body to prove it... But she was equally injured, and overly frustrated. He had fed her the words that would lead to her losing control, and she was now almost completely to that point. He would draw her in, and then make the final blow when she threw everything at him in a furious attempt to shut him down once and for all. The next step was to prey on that confusion, and make her even more irritated. It was almost the only chance he had, as she was both faster and stronger.

But not for long.

Breath it in, Stitch. Gather it to your stomach. Ignore the pain. Now as you strike, breath out. And as you breath out, return all that Djed. But not to the proper ones, no. Return it all to somewhere else.

Stitch let out a shout, almost to encourage the Djed flow through his veins, the blind man forcing as much of the Flux as he could to his single striking arm. If Pain was watching close enough, she would notice the intense bulging of that single arm, the massive expansion of of just a single group of muscles. Stitch was flooding all of that Djed to his arm, and simply pushing it into every single muscle. He wasn't even trying to target a muscle, he was merely trying to target his arm. He could see her throwing up a block, but it was light slow motion to him. He could see the bulging of her own arm muscles, and then see the bulge of his, and he already knew what was going to happen. He was going to bust through that guard, and he was going to connect. This was over.

The punch landed, and Stitch felt her guard crumple. Her arms snapped back and out a bit, and he heard the painful sound of bone on bone as one of her wrists slammed against her forehead. She rocked back, already falling back a few steps, wobbling. Had that been a knockout blow? Stitch couldn't tell. She looked woozy, and her Aura was dimming, but she was still on her feet. He tried to shoot forward his other fist, to try and press the advantage he had created, but he simply couldn't move. He realized that his strike was still outstretched, and that he was unable to pull it back. He was still in his striking stance, and he couldn't return to the defense, nor could he follow up. Where was that sweet bliss that manipulating the Flux had brought? His muscles had shrank back to normal size, perhaps even farther than that. His whole body was numb, trembling even. He had never sent that much of the Flux into a single place before. He had never really even used the Flux in this way before.

The world was silent as he saw Pain steady herself, her Aura flaring in defiance. It was like he was an onlooker of the scene, detached from his unresponsive body. The muscles flexed in her leg as she rocked back, twisting at the waist, throwing her kick. He couldn't throw up a block or a catch, and he certainly had no strength to dodge. He merely had to watch as her foot was flung high, gathering speed and power as it took to the sky. She was aiming for his jaw, and she was going to connect. If she was bad at taking blows, Stitch was horrible, and he knew he wouldn't be standing through this. She had him, and she was going to win. He had thrown that Flux punch much too late in the fight, when he had already been much too worn. He wasn't going to be able to follow it up, and she didn't seem too effected. Maybe her block had absorbed too much of the impact.

Halfway through the kick, the momentum fizzled, and she suddenly slumped forward. The sudden dimming of her Aura was shocking for Stitch, as the original angry hot glow was suddenly icy cold. The sudden shock to his senses was enough to jolt his body from the inside, and the outside reacted too. Still looking in from the outside, Stitch watched himself move, falling to his knees to catch her crumbling body. She fell, and he caught her, barely having the strength to hold up her slack body. There was pure silence in the Spinning Coin, the onlookers totally silent, their once mocking cries put to rest. The first one to stand was a man in the back, an elderly gentleman who came here just to feel a little electricity running through his tired old bones. He shuffled to his feet, and slowly brought together his hands in a soft clap.

One by one they stood, raising mugs of brew, cheering their praise to the sky. The clapping shook the rafters, nearly deafening Stitch. A small, weary smile touched his lips as he glanced about, taking it all in. They weren't just cheering for him. They were cheering for her, as well. They had both proved themselves to this unruly crowd. Even Gene was in the corner, begrudgingly clapping his hands, as if just doing it because everyone else was. A small smile had touched the corner of his lips though, signalling his pleasure with the fight.

Stitch merely sat there, on his knees, clinging to Pain. He hoped she wouldn't wake up, as he had a feeling she would punch him. The cheering had better stop before then, as he couldn't move.

At all.