[IC] First Trial (Rilla Vs. Blaze Gamma)

[Blaze Gamma]

"Gojūske, are you paying attention?"

The young man yawned, covering his mouth. "Yeah, yeah, look, can we get this over with? You said you were gonna give me a good fight here, right?" He asked as he stretched, his loose fitting kimono easily accommodating his motions. The outfit, whose top had a flame motif, was certainly one designed to be ceremonial, but it was also built for training, and as such, had to allow for some movement. "So what, just gotta beat this guy you're callin' to a pulp, then call it a day, yeah?" He asked.

Gojūsuke's attendant sighed. "Perhaps you're oversimplifying things a bit, but yes, you're to fight the champion that will be summoned here."

"Yeah, yeah," Gojūsuke sighed, looking around the dark room. "Chamber of Dreams, huh? We can pretty much fight till death, and then we'd come out right as rain after. Bit boring if there's no thrill of that chance of death in it."

"The point isn't to have the 'thrill of death'." The attendant sighed once more, the young man having always tried his patience. He'd been training Gojūsuke for 11 years, since the young man was 8. Maybe a week ago, Gojūsuke had attained the title of Master, though all it really meant was that he'd learned the basics, and could handle himself in a fight.

This had bolstered the boy's ego far more than his skills could back up. "In any case, now that we're here, I'll explain who you're facing."

"Hell yes," Gojūsuke smirked, slamming a fist into his palm. "Hit me with it. Am I going to be facing a warlord? Sun Tzu? A god of war?"

"You'll be facing a boxer."

Gojūsuke's smirk faltered slightly. "Whatever, so where're we talking from? Somewhere fantastic, right?" He asked, quickly recovering.

It was the attendant's turn to smile. "He's from a Nexus Earth."

Gojūsuke's smirk evaporated now, quickly as it had come. "Wait, you're serious? So you're just setting me against a shmuck from a place where people are just... Normal?" He asked. "And a sportsman? So it's not even someone who's..." He ran a hand through his messy brown hair. "Ugh... Dammit... Fine, so what else."

"Well, let's see here," the attendant pulled out a note. "Tre'yan T'Mass, diseased at age 29-"

"Wait, diseased? You mean I'm fightin' a damn zombie!?"

"Don't interrupt." The attendant said. "But yes, diseased. He's a boxer, orthodox stance, featherweight champion, 6'1, around 120 pounds."

"... Ugh... Dead men don't have spirit..." Gojūsuke muttered to himself. "And that tall but only 120... Like I'll be fighting a toothpick... Dammit! This is completely lame!" The young man stood at 5'11, and weighed in at almost 170 pounds. While he wouldn't beat the man in height, Gojūsuke was likely to look like a truck in comparison. He zoned out at the rest of the explanation, feeling sorry for himself about having, in his mind, such a lame person for his first bought.

The Chamber of Dreams could summon willing champions from any number of worlds to fight. The battle always took place in an arena familiar to the one summoned, so no doubt, the smokey chamber would turn to a boxing ring as soon as the T'Mass guy was called. Gojūsuke cracked his knuckles, having lost some of his steam. "So just call the guy already." He said.

"Of course, of course," the beleaguered attendant mumbled, holding up a hand. "Tre'yan T'Mass, the Chamber of Dreams calls upon you as a champion! Come to us, so that we may strengthen our spirits and bodies against the strength of your fists!" He called out a small incantation, and the smoke began to swirl around the room.

While Gojūsuke was less than enthralled by his selected opponent, there was still some sense of anticipation to the dramatic flair of the chamber. He prepared himself, ready to see this skinny bastard he'd be fighting appear.

[Rilla]

Quick jabs, vicious uppercuts, and monstrous hooks thundered against the sand filled punching bag of the dingy boxing gym. The place was empty, had been for some hours now, sans the boxer that was making use of the sparring equipment. A thick hoodie hung oddly loosely over the boxer, almost as if it were too big for his body. He was strangely quiet, aside from the sounds of his fists hitting the bag. Even he had lost track of the time, unaware that the hour was late and the only people outside were users of some new street drug that promised magical powers, and people who promised sex for pay.

As his fists slammed against the bag, a familiar tapping sound began to intermingle with the loud thudding sound, causing him to peer around for just a moment. He was not comforted by the presence that greeted him. It was The Liaison, an otherworldly, possible God, that seemed impervious to being touched by anything. He, at times, acted like the agent of the boxer - much to the chagrin of both parties.

Tre'Yan T'Mass, the deceased boxer of other dimensional origin, currently on a losing streak, but a former champion in a past life. Still here, still training. That's good, very good. Liaison said, looking around the gym with a face of disgust. He was accustomed to places of uncleanliness, but that did not mean he enjoyed it.

Tre'Yan, ever the stoic, did not reply. But the words the man spoke were the truth. He had been a champion, perhaps the greatest boxing champion the world had seen. And yet now, in his after life, he was on a losing streak befitting of a newcomer to the boxing world. He slammed his right fist against the bag once more, letting it swing back heavily, before catching it and bringing it to a halt. Turning back to the man, he turned his head to the well dressed Liaison and tilted his head to the left.

It is incredibly hard to get you booked, to get you to break this slump. You last few matches, against Jake 'The Under' Taker, Dyayun, and Cho, have resulted in you losing. He tapped the floor of the gym and appeared in the ring. Luckily for you, I have friends in many places and you still have people that see you as some mighty champion. Liaison cracked a smile, letting his eyes glance towards a corner of the gym.

Tre'Yan, trained to watch the body language of those around him caught the movement, though brief and looked in that direction as well. What he saw was of little surprise. Liaison's newest lapdog, the former Way of the Warrior champion, whose life until recently had been devoted to killing Liaison, stood in wait.

Don't worry, he is not your opponent. None wish to see you die so easily. The smile became a smirk. No, you'll be fighting a martial arts master. It seems his trainer would like him taken down a peg.

Both knew that Tre'Yan would not turn down this supposed bout. He needed to be in the ring, he needed to regain some measure of credibility. Three losses was stuff for any fighter worth their salt. He asked a simple question, the only one he needed, Where?

Liaison would not form an answer, instead, he tapped the ground with his cane once more, allowing the room to be filled with a disembodied voice as Tre'Yan's location changed.

"Tre'yan T'Mass, the Chamber of Dreams calls upon you as a champion! Come to us, so that we may strengthen our spirits and bodies against the strength of your fists!"

The boxer never took his eyes off of Liaison, he genuinely did not like the man, but he could not argue with the fact he was able to get him matches, high profile matches.

For the first time that evening Tre'Yan was surprised, he was not expecting that the change of location would bring him to a boxing ring. Almost immediately, his body became comfortable and his mind cleared. There were two other people in the vicinity, it was not hard to determine which would be his opponent. He slipped his hands up and grabbed the hood of his attire and slipped it off.

This point of matches usually sparked some type of shock in his opponents. He was not a flesh and blood person, but a skeletal being, with bones forming a sort of jagged head. A brown loin cloth hung down from his waist towards his legs. His tail swished back and forth, but was it out of annoyance or anticipation.

Boxing tape was wrapped heavily around his fists, and some around his thigh, his lower legs and feet.

You, he said, almost as a whisper, Come. He indicated his opponent, as he stepped backwards in the ring, granting the other some space. His right side pushed forward, arm slightly bent, fist forward. His left hand was bent to, but instead of being extended, it was hooked across his chest. Tre'Yan's right foot was slid forward, to which he began to slightly bounce. He was ready to strike at any moment.

The truth of him was simple, stick the to fundamentals - solid strikes and better footwork. Would this martial arts, a master of fighting versus a master of sweet science. His breathing was calm, startling so, but that was what happened in each of his matches. The calm before the storm.

[Blaze Gamma]

Gojūsuke frowned as he looked at the ring appear around him. In the end, a gaunt looking figure appeared. The martial artist scowled. The figure before him definitely wasn't human. Considering he was supposed to be from a Nexus Earth, this was something unexpected.

The voice was also something unexpected. "Unspirited... Whatever." Gojūsuke sighed, taking up a fighting stance. He held his left arm back, his right guarding his face and upper body. A southpaw. "Old man... I'm going to wipe the floor with this bony bastard, then you're going to get me a real fight. Someone with some actual spirit, you hear me!" He said, staring down the, as far as he could see, walking corpse before him.

"Alright then, let's see what you can do!" Gojūsuke leapt forward, keeping his right arm up as a guard. He was going to test the waters, making the first strike. He snapped a quick fist for Tre'yan's chest, quickly retracting it to hold in a defensive stance. It was clear up close that under the kimono, Gojūsuke had both his hands wrapped, and, much like the boxer, had wrapped feet, choosing not to wear any shoes when fighting.

[Rilla]

This one was antsy, mouthy too. He reminded him so much of Dyayun, the startling boxer who fought to injure, maim, and ultimately kill if he could. Tre'Yan continued to hop on the balls of his feet, watching the man with intensity. As sudden as it were the man attack, using a single quick shot to, presumably, test the waters. He would soon learn the error of his ways.

Tre'Yan was a trained boxer, taught to hit and avoid being hit at all costs, a softball attack like that would normally not find it's mark, and this was no different. When his opponent attacked, the boxer swayed his body back. His opponent would find, perhaps unsurprisingly that his blow would find no purchase on the bones or a dead man, but what would come next could probably be consider a pinnacle of his ability.

With the man finding wind and not flesh, Tre'Yan used the momentum from his sway to do two, almost simultaneous things. The first was to right himself, while the second came right after. He would match fire with fire, he thought, as he instinctively fired off a right handed shot of his own. The boy had closed the distance a significant amount in his haste, and for that, he was even more inside the range of Tre'Yan.

It could not be helped, the former champion would not let many chances slide, and though his thrown jab was strong, it was meant to be more of a return volley. For that reason, he did not follow it up with his monstrous left hand, which could hit harder than his right.

How would the man react to the follow up attack coming so quickly, and with such trained power behind it. Would be fall for the trap left, or switch his style to keep Tre'Yan on his toes. It mattered little, this was a win he was determined capture.

(You did good with your first two posts. You have a clear attack and a fall back. You also didn't try and get too cute with a bunch of different attacks. My attack, also, was simple. A right handed shot. )

[Blaze Gamma]

"Tch!" Gojūsuke shifted further forward. While if he needed to, taking a hit was not his first choice. The attack was swift, but not unseeable, and regardless of the intended strategy of the boxer, Gojūsuke had his own plan. He slid forward and to his left, raising his right arm as a guard to push the fist away from his body and face. If he were more into it, more intent on going in for a killing blow, he'd have maneuvered the block into another attack, grappling the boxer's arm. Instead, he left his attack as a guard. He still didn't know what to expect, but the benefit of guarding the way he did, was it allowed him better reach as an in fighter, and it opened up his opponent's right side, denying him the use of his left, least until he had a chance to turn and bring it back into range.

The southpaw this time made another shot, using his hip as a launcher to fire off his left hand at the boxer's ribcage, under his armpit. It was something that had been drilled into the young fighter, a spot that blows to couldn't be softened, only blocked or evaded. Regardless of circumstance, once Gojūsuke reached his full extension, he'd snap back, creating a bit of an opening. The quiet was annoying him. This guy really just seemed too placid.

[Rilla]

His opponent displayed a decent amount of skill, using the short space and footwork to move to the left and deflect the attack. This exposed his right side, which his opponent cleverly went for with a tight uppercut. Tre'Yan was without the use of his left side to attack or defend. However, he had not fully committed to his return jab, and had some control over the limb.

As his opponents uppercut honed in, the trained boxer tucked his shoulder quickly, perhaps not quick enough, to use his shoulder to absorb some of the blow. He would use the man's own technique in his own way.

The blow made contact, displaying some of the power the master had hidden within him, but Tre'Yan was used to boxing against those who possessed the strength of fist. His movements weren't wasted, the moment the fist made contact, Tre'Yan used his body to both turn, returning his left arm to the fray, and attempting to push his opponents frame in a circle. This would, if successful, work twofold.

The first part would obscure his left fist that was aiming to land a vicious hook to the body of the man, with enough power to push him away, if guarded against and his opponent didn't possess a high level of stability. The second, aimed to address the first - his movement to turn the man, using his upper arm and shoulder, would hopefully dislodge him enough to allow the hit to find it's mark.

Tre'Yan was still testing the man, and had learned a few things already. He was abrasive and headstrong, confident in his abilities, and more than willing to trade blows. But how long would that last, when Tre'Yan was trained to use his fists to maximum effect?

[Blaze Gamma]

Gojūsuke wasn't as prepared as he wanted to be. He still moved backwards as intended, but his opponent reflecting his earlier strategy was not something he had planned for. The young martial artist barely evaded the turn and the hook, the secondary blow only just missing his chest. He was slightly off balance. True, he had the option of doubling back further, but he wasn't exactly the running sort, and realistically, it just meant he would either have to charge back in or deal with being chased.

He planted his feet to the ground to reaffirm his balance, but as a consequence, his guard was sloppy. His head covered, his lower body was wide open, least for a half a second, which would be more than enough time for a moderately swift opponent to take advantage of.

[Rilla]

His opponent utilized his different positioning to avoid the blow that could have wrecked his midsection. Perhaps it was the smartest thing for him to have done at the time, because Tre'Yan would have followed up with any number of successive blows. His momentum brought him around, as his opponent escaped backwards, but left himself open.

Trained eyes fell on the body of the man, and Tre'Yan took off, he closed the gap almost immediately, getting his guard back up in case of any attacks. It was time to put his training to the test.

He pretended to shoot his arm forward, using his right shoulder to rotate, as though he were aiming to get through the upper guard and land a head shot, but that was just his feint. He was banking on his opponent seeing the shot and taking proper measures to defend against it. The real blow came but a moment later, for almost as soon as the feint began, it ended, while his upper body quick jerk left, and a vicious hook aimed to slam into the side of his torso. There were lots of organs on that side, but the well trained combatant in fisticuffs was aiming primarily at the spleen, assuming this wasn't someone whose organs were different from a normal person. A shot like that could cripple a man if hit hard enough.