[IC] Only Two Things Come From Texas (LeeRoy Vs. Gonad)

[Doc Doctor]

Gonad stood a fair distance from his opponent (however much you want within the confines of the bar, old boy), bushy eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed as he stared past LeeRoy and off into some nonexistent sunset. Unusually, he wasn't naked this time, having empathy enough for the customers to wear a white button-up shirt and silky red pants. He was the manager of this establishment, after all, and had to look the part. His combat equipment wasn't on his person today, for this was a workplace, not a battlefield.

"Hrah! Ready be Strange Man?"

[LeeRoy]

He can't be serious.

I think he is, it's surprising how many of these beefy types jump to violence at the first slight.

You can't take him, he's way stronger than you. Just look at him!

Just because he's muscular doesn't make him stronger. Superficial muscular structures are what modern people seek anyway.

Fair point, but that's not superficial.

Your point is fair too.

It was yet another one of those days, you know the ones. The ones where you accidentally piss off the wrong person and have to find out the hard way whether or not you can kick their ass. The scientist stood about nine feet away from the musclebound warrior, his face seeming almost totally vacant of emotion. Not as though they simply aren't there, as in LeeRoy's own face. But as though he were unable to express them, lacking the cognitive faculties required to show emotion.

It was unsettling.

LeeRoy's gait was set rather large, though not of his own volition. Keeping his legs close together would make it uncomfortable for the jangly bits that dangle between his thighs in this suit. His shoulders squared and fists raised to about chin level, held forward in a near boxer's guard. Though not proper guard, LeeRoy relied more on his intuition than his own martial skill. "You should settle down, I'd hope we both know what happens when a Roman gets into a tussle with someone else."

[Doc Doctor]

@LeeRoy

Gonad walked towards LeeRoy, his one eye as guileless as the sky on a summer day. There was nothing hidden up this one's sleeve, and not an iota of doubt about what he was going to do. It had not been a dire transgression, certainly not one that lead to death. The barbarian was intent on a simple bar fight, nothing more. His beefy arms remained folded across his barrel chest, even as he got into striking distance. No doubt LeeRoy had his strengths, but this was a whole 'nother world. Gonad had instinct in addition to training, to say the least. A mathematician could spend his entire life calculating the best way to throw a punch that lands every time, imagining an invigorating scenario where it worked perfectly and against multiple opponents. Thinking that, in the right situation, with the right motivation, he could hulk out and beat the odds. Putting such a thing into practice, though, was tragically different. Men of the street, men of the gym, men of the dojo. They understood that difference in its entirety, because they knew what it felt like to have their pride destroyed and rebuilt over and over and over. Someone that knew what to do and had the action of that motion burned into their body through trail and error. That is what training, at its core, is. Doing something many times to get better at it. The greatest way to get experience is through experience.

How many kicks had Bruce Lee thrown in his life? Thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands? When he moved, it was with a stunning decisiveness that most other fighters would fail to register as anything more than a blur, or a flicker. What of Gonad then, who had not lived in the times of modern man and the film industry, but in the primal ages of eternal warfare, wherein disfigured human bodies were piled on high like lumpy mountains, a visceral crimson biosphere tinting the horizon the same color as blood? Where a single misstep meant no second chance, forever after. Gonad did not attack as he strode in, but he wouldn't need to. LeeRoy would be able to see what might happen, to feel it, almost like a sort of precognition. This one was special. You don't spit into the wind. You don't steal the hat off a policeman in Hoboken. You don't hang your ass over a picket fence with a Doberman on the other side. Why on this realm or on any other, then, would LeeRoy stand his ground and raise his fists against one that lived and breathed knuckles and jawbones?

[LeeRoy]

The constant internal turmoil between LeeRoy and Silvia raged on.

And by raged on I mean it was an endless passive aggressive standoff.

You'd have to be a fool to stand up to him.

You'd be wrong in that assumption.

Look at how calm he is, it's like he lives for the express purpose of kicking ass.

Literally a nineteen eighties action movie protagonist. Musclebound but not terribly smart, just look at how aloof and vacant he is.

I think you might be mistaking calm malice with stupidity.

Unlikely but potentially.

But in the face of someone who trumped him in height, weight, and fitness. Someone who looked as savage and wild as he did calm and aloof. Someone who lavished in bloodshed and murder.

LeeRoy spit.

Though, much to his distress he had forgotten that he was wearing a helmet. On the screen of which he had left a dab of saliva that slowly crept downwards, leaving a slimy trail behind it. This made thinking a slight harder.

Why?

Laughter.

Cacophonous laughter from the metaphysical orifice that serves as Silvia's voicebox. It was deafening and hurt his head with each chortle. No amount of ennui could salve this sort of wound, LeeRoy had done something stupid with the intent of riling a response but had instead wildly embarrassed himself.

That is to say, would have embarrassed himself if he had that emotion anymore, and now all he felt was a mild annoyance and disgust. Which one could liken to embarrassment.

LeeRoy opted instead on a proper kick to the jangly bits with an upward kick of his right leg. A simply enough move, twist the hip, turn the body and sharply raise your shin upwards into the groin of your opponent. Whoever this savage was, he was going to be treated like a savage.

Savagely.

[Doc Doctor]

@LeeRoy
As leeRoy kicked, Gonad's long right arm would leave his chest and thrust out to give the spaceman a harsh shove in the chest whilst he was still on one leg, fingers curled in so that they couldn't be broken by a lucky hit. LeeRoy could theoretically try to grab or strike away the arm of Gonad, perhaps he could even attempt to throw a punch into the funny bone in the elbow, but none of that would effectively stop the immensity of the push. If LeeRoy were unable to avoid it, he would be sent sprawling onto his back. The kick landed, but didn't seem to do anything. They say a strong enough kick to the groin can break the pelvis, but honestly, such a thing hasn't even been documented as having occurred, least of all to a quarter-ton barbarian. The real problem was that Gonad, having total control over his body, could retract his gonads right into the spaces in the abdomen where they were kept before dropping. His gooch could be badly bruised, certainly, but nothing less than a mortal wound would give the berserker pause.

Instead of the comical pain that leeRoy had probably expected, there would be a good chance of him instead winding up on the ground and looking up at the looming frame of the monstrous warrior, who would have paced forwards to stop and stare down. Again, LeeRoy would be able to perceive that hand-to-hand the wrong option here. Using a weapon would be far wiser, given how obvious it was that Gonad in and of himself was a tool of war. Right now it was like a naked peasant trying to attack a fully armed knight.

[LeeRoy]

Foompf. As the air left his lungs and his back hit the floor, LeeRoy grunted slightly as the former events took a moment to process. One moment he had been kicking, the next he was on his back with one leg hitting the floor shortly after his entire body did. The padding in the suit didn't do terribly much to cushion the blow. It was jarring, at least. The laughter stopped abruptly and was replaced with an exaggerated gasp. Even though it was exaggerated it was genuine.

Oh good. You've picked the wrong fight, again.

This time I can say without a doubt, it wasn't my fault.

Oh yeah, like the fight with Dollar Store Space Shin wasn't either?

I didn't expect him to be able to teleport, what was I supposed to do?

Not pick stupid fights.

Shut up.

You know I won't.

There was a click from his right hand as an electrical charge began to run through the heating coils, gradually raising the temperature of those ceramic platelets to unreasonably high temperature. The wooden floorboard beneath his hand began to splinter and char almost instantly on its activation. "You know." LeeRoy spoke unto the barbarous man who loomed over him. Pushing himself up with his wrists so that he didn't accidentally touch the floor with the contact points. He wanted to burn the man, not set the whole place on fire if he could help it. Though he totally would if it came down to it. "I don't know your name, and you don't know mine."

You're going to say something corny.

"Well."

Please for both of our sakes.

"It's better that way."

Oh jeez edgelord, please cut your wrists a bit louder for me.

[Doc Doctor]

@LeeRoy

Gonad was quite familiar with fire magic. Not that what LeeRoy was doing magic, but it wasn't entirely different from what Gonad had seen a million times in his home realm of Gielinor. In fact, the scientist would have probably noticed that many of the countless scars on the berserker's body were from burns. Yes, this one had been set on fire many, many times. Maybe even struck by lightning on more than one occasion. Enough that he no longer registered magic as a threat.
Instead of trying to preemptively finish LeeRoy before he could get all heated up, Gonad would remain where he was (even allowing the scientist to get to his feet, if he tried to), and announce his identity with such zeal that the sturdy walls of the inn would reverberate with his booming voice.

"HRAH! GONAD BE GONAD! Who be Fancy Suit Man, that be damaging floor of Gonad with stove hands?"

[LeeRoy]

So his name is nutsack?

I cannot believe that he's named himself after a gamete organ.

Just say nutsack.

It was unfortunate for Gonad that LeeRoy wasn't the sort to look a gift horse in the mouth, Gonad had yet to actually attack him. The mightier than thou attitude was a queer one, but not unfamiliar to the scholar. Particularly due to his defacto rival being a holier/mightier/smarter than thou sort of person. Haunted by that sort person leaves you with the kind of fighting style that Gonad wouldn't particularly be happy to face. As such, LeeRoy was sitting upright with Gonad looming over him.

Advantageous to LeeRoy and Whores alike.

You made that pun at my expense.

Of course I did.

As the man stood from his crouch he lashed both of his arms towards Gonad's knees with palms wide open. A normal man can't easily perform this, wrapping your hand around a man's thigh is easily impossible for normal sized hands. LeeRoy's hands are thrice the size of a normal hand, and even Gonad's mighty knees were immune to their encompassing width and length. With a swift grab LeeRoy went to snatch Gonad's entire legs up from under him. Pulling up and backwards as he rose, aiming to drop Gonad's head to the ground with a singular motion. As well as lock his hand in place around Gonad's leg and roast it like a corpse in a crematorium.

[Doc Doctor]

@LeeRoy

Once again Bruce Lee had to muscle his way into the equation, this time with a nice little quote.

*"Let an opponent graze your skin and you smash into his flesh; let an opponent smash into your flesh and you fracture his bone; let an opponent fracture your bone and you take his life! Do not be concerned with your escaping safely; lay your life before him!"*

Such was the philosophy of a berserker, such was the philosophy of Gonad. His offence was his defense. Whatever damage LeeRoy threatened, Gonad would raise him two chips. LeeRoy could grab Gonad's knees if he so pleased, and scorch them to the bone. But in doing so he would have no limbs with which to protect his head, and trying to leap aside or duck and slip what came next would be futile. Gonad's hands were big too, and his left one, curled into a fist large enough to engulf a human face, would be set to smash through the glass dome covering LeeRoy's head as he attacked, maybe even interrupting the grab before serious damage could be inflicted. It would be like a homeless vagrant deciding to wantonly peer into a dark tunnel only to have his block taken off by a silent bullet train. The barbarian would have needed but an instant to lean down and loose a sudden straight the likes of which would reduce the scientist's face to little more than a marred knuckle imprint studded with shards of (probably) bullet-proof glass or high density plastic.

LeeRoy could try to leap aside in his standing motion, but that would require far more time than it would take for Gonad to throw his well-aimed punch. What's more, if the blow landed and LeeRoy were put onto his back again and with perhaps about as much metaphorical sense as he had entered the fight with, the very next thing his rattled brain would register was the barbarian's titanic mass straddling his chest, piston fists ready to beat his skull into the floor unless he relented.

[LeeRoy]

@Doc Doctor

Incoming!

Honestly, this helmet protects against micrometioroids, the least that it could do it not yield to the first punch that it takes. LeeRoy was almost stunned by the suddenness of his helmet's screen bursting inwards, peppering his face with chunks of polycarbonate. Some tinkled away from his glasses as his eyes locked subconsciously on the incoming fist. There wasn't much that he could do in this particular situation in the way of avoiding the blow, it wouldn't break anything serious, but by the gods it was going to hurt.

It smacked into his cheekbone, his fist was covered in small chunks of the screen that had been carried by the fist's momentum, they cut into his face as his head was pushed back and away by the punch. LeeRoy reeled, but his grip stayed true to Gonad's knees. What Gonad hadn't expected was that the suit and LeeRoy's own strength wouldn't simply fail under pressure. As LeeRoy started to reel backwards, he continued pulling up and back with his arms. Taking a couple awkward shuffling steps away from the bulky man, making sure to push upwards with his knees to get the maximum lift from his pull.

Gonad may weigh a lot, but even without his suit LeeRoy was more than strong enough to heave Gonad's legs out from under him. Strength is one thing, but true strength is something else.

True strength is neither flesh nor steel.

True strength is leverage.

[Doc Doctor]

@LeeRoy

There was a problem with LeeRoy's leverage, one that he'd not likely realize until his head began to feel like a ham hock in a trash compactor. LeeRoy's arms were far shorter than Gonad's. By holding on, as his head was forced back by the blow, the damaging momentum wouldn't be as easily dispersed had he simply allowed his body to tumble away. Gonad might have been striking from a higher angle, but he still had reach to spare. As a result, the futuristic fighter might find himself on the fringes of losing consciousness. Furthermore, as LeeRoy's vision was obscured by the mongoloid fist of Gonad, he'd fail to see how Gonad himself liked to work leverage. The barbarian's free right hand would have clamped down upon the inner left edge of the fractured spaceman's helmet, a mere moment before Gonad's heavily wounded legs were taken out and he crashed onto his back, left fist retreating from LeeRoy's mug in the process.

Surprisingly, LeeRoy would find himself jerked along for the ride, hauled forwards by the raw strength and the falling weight of the barbarian who had seized upon his helmet. He would surely be able to release Gonad's knees and start to grab other vitals, but he probably wouldn't be able to bring them up in time to handle the very next thing his trained eyes would see. After all, Gonad's left fist was already set on course, and in the following seconds it would be brought back and forth several times in succession, even though one was enough for most enemies. The power in a punch primarily comes from the legs. When one is on their back, the force of their strikes are considerably weaker. Gonad, though, had three factors that when added up, equaled the bone-flecked mess that the spaceman's face was about to become.

The first was that Gonad was pulling LeeRoy into the punch by his helmet, and would hold him in place so that he took the full, unleavened force of the impacts, each one a potential end to the brawl.

The second was that LeeRoy's visor was no longer there to reduce the amount of damage he took.

The third was that Gonad was Gonad, and whatever Gonad struck multiple times wept for the golden days of yore, when there still existed kind and just gods whom could restore that which a plastic surgeon never could.

A set of hairy, calloused knuckles blocked out the sun, blocked out the wincing face of Emily the bartender, blocked out the inauspicious eye of Gonad in slow motion. Somewhere distant, "Also Sprach Zarathustra" could be heard in the midst of its grand fanfare. Like the waves of the ocean, leagues of scarred muscle rippled across the barbarian's extending arm, cascading down the vein-webbed tide of his bulging bicep and rolling over the tarnished pillar of striated, charnel strength that was his forearm. Here it comes! It is coming! It is-

The following scene is age restricted on account of graphic violence. Please enjoy this picture of a kitten until further notice.

[LeeRoy]

It was like a dream, something with which LeeRoy was horribly unfamiliar these days. If it were a situation that were less dire and horrific he would have appreciated the surreal severance from the boring normalcy of constant waking affairs. Time seemed to drag on for an eternity and his own body was moving as though through molasses. This fist of great power flew towards him as an asteroid bound to eradicate all life falls upon a planet. Though it was just perspective, the slow descent of the fist upon him was nightmarish.

As LeeRoy fell forward his arms and knees drifted into the natural position for one to catch themselves, I would pray most people would be aware of this by now. I shouldn't have to describe common knowledge.

His elbows dropped harshly upon the ribcage of Gonad as his weight was pulled into the fist. Which he was only just now noticing, LeeRoy would have felt fear if this body was able to transport the right hormones. Though he did feel a hot wash of almost ecstasy burn through his blood as adrenaline was pushed through his unnatural blood.

LeeRoy's hands rose to his helmet in a frantic attempt to free himself from Gonad's grip, but it was too late. The fist was upon him and to devastating effect. It crunched against his cheekbone and pushed his head backwards against the inside of his helmet with a thump. The bone in his face crumpled away from the mighty fist of the barbaric warrior and LeeRoy was almost tempted to scream.

Nice job. Why'd you let him punch you?

With shaking fingers he found the clips on his helmet, since Gonad was too preoccupied with pummeling his face to notice he was free to unlock the fastens and attempt to pull away before Gonad could deliver another punch. Again, too late. As he pulled backwards and away Gonad's fist smashed directly into his mouth, pushing his upper jaw inwards and sending blood and teeth down his throat. To which LeeRoy promptly responded with a messy grunt of almost fluid consistency.

The punch knocked him firmly backwards and away from Gonad, his legs kicked frantically for a moment as he was almost airborne until his hindquarters hit the floorboards.

It's not like I wanted to eat my own teeth today!

The most pain he's felt in a few years was nothing compared to the horror when LeeRoy caught a glimpse of Gonad's face.

It wasn't like most people who have hurt him in the past, it wasn't a smug grin or face filled with rage. It wasn't even the smile of a sadist.

It was total passivity, as though it didn't matter what was happening here.

Though LeeRoy shared the sentiment, Gonad's face was beyond just sentiment.

It was.

Truly the most horrifying thing he's ever laid eyes upon.

[Doc Doctor]

@LeeRoy

Gonad normally never let an opponent go, but as LeeRoy kicked backwards he would do so. He must have felt that this one had the potential to show him more experience. The heat hands were a new one, and Gonad for one loved to experience the abilities of an interesting opponent. It wasn't about being offended anymore. He would roll backwards into a handstand from his prone position, just like that, in a single motion. His legs flopped and dangled about, loose on the charred kneecaps. Gonad's back would be to LeeRoy, his head cocked up between his shoulder blades to keep the spaceman in sight. What the fuck was this motherfucking shit. Gonad never lied, and his body never lied. His intentions were as clear as the blue sky. He was going to continue the fight like that freaky-ass tunnel monster from Hellraiser.



That would make obvious another thing, one that perhaps LeeRoy might have already divined from the thousands of scars on Gonad's body. He was more than used to getting hurt. For Gonad, getting wounded was all part of the whole enchilada. He probably ran himself straight into swords on a regular basis, just to get at the poor bastards holding them. Severe injury wasn't a big deal when you had the vitality of a Texas rattler, the ingenuity of a Republican performing a twenty-hour filibuster, and connections with the best magical healers in the county.

[LeeRoy]

@Doc Doctor
He was like an assault on the very concept of normalcy, this Gonad, a man who threw caution to the wind in favor of. . .

Something.

LeeRoy was no master martial artist or even particularly strong, but to see a warrior go out of his way. No, not just go out of his way, but to outright defy logic to continue fighting LeeRoy might have been some sort of odd compliment. Alternatively, Gonad's just batshit insane and LeeRoy's putting way too much thought into trying to analyze an absurdist situation.

He stood once more, backing himself up to put at least a little distance between himself and this man. With shaking hands he turned his wrists and patted himself down with the back of his hands. Avoiding the burning implements on the underside, trying in vain to push some of the blood that had sprayed from his mouth off of the front of his suit.

So too did he cough slightly to clear his throat of blood and teeth, to his mild surprise it worked perfectly. A clump of saliva, teeth and blood was flung from his mouth and to the floor. He would have smiled if his face weren't numb and swelling from the growing bruises and lumps from just two of Gonad's punches.

Any witty banter to throw at him?

If I find a way to psychologically punch you, please tell me, I'm going to be focused on doing that for the next few weeks.

Sure thing buck-o.

With ragged breathing and a fucked up face, LeeRoy didn't look much better than Gonad's legs. His body was fine but pain really does sap energy from you, and gods be damned Gonad was strong. Even with his pain tolerance he was left almost shaking with discomfort and pain, Gonad was probably among the top five or six people who have ever punched his face in.

Maybe LeeRoy would get lucky, considering three out of those five or six people are dead now. Two of which are entirely his doing, so maybe Gonad will be added to the list of really strong corpses.

With a deep nasal breath and a short cough to clear his throat again, LeeRoy raised his fists to his chin again. It was a mistake to try and talk, because it came out horribly. "Thry me toupgh guy."

Ew, dude don't talk. Seriously you sound like a congested Steve Urkel.

[Doc Doctor]

@LeeRoy

Gonad took off towards his opponent at a surprisingly fast gait, palms slapping the floor. What was he even going to try to do? Clobber LeeRoy with his ragdoll legs? It would have been stupid had Gonad not looked as if he knew what he was doing. If LeeRoy stood his ground Gonad would slide to a stop three feet in front of him, still with such a deadly look of seriousness on his face that it was comical. A beat would pass, an awkward second for anyone that had expected some sort of sudden trick or unique skill to release their suspense and cover their eyes in humiliation. The barbarian would then whip a left kick at LeeRoy's head, aiming to dish out a flailing boot to the gob whilst the man was awestruck by the sheer stupidity of the situation. It was the sort of attack that was so ruthlessly blatant, so redundantly unexpected by virtue of its audacity, that even a psychic could be hit by it. The sort of blow that you know deep down is coming, but you have difficulty moving because your brain is too busy puzzling over how the fundamental forces that govern the sane universe could possibly allow someone to have the sheer gall to attempt such a thing in broad daylight and among other fully functioning human beings. Yet, it went deeper than that, like a toilet with unplumbed depths. If the kick were countered efficiently, the jocular atmosphere would shatter and Gonad would cease to be an object of comedy, hence rendering him metaphysically lethal in ways before unseen and unimagined, all pretenses of emotional context channeled into the act of laying waste to the one that had ruined the structure of the demi-plot.

LeeRoy was in a real bind this time. Gonad had just grabbed him, not physically, but on some other level that could not be proven to exist. What even was going on? Did Gonad somehow force the battle into a diegesistic loop of karmic pain, driven by the "that which you know should be" which pulsed deep within the hearts of those who observed and influenced from beyond, regardless of will? Was it just a simple kick and nothing else? Or ultimately, was Gonad's skill so phantasmagoric that with his mighty techniques he could trigger an existential crisis by pushing a subconscious moral obligation to take a kick in the face for the sake of entertainment onto an enemy? If so, how far could he take it? Could LeeRoy even register the derisive and perhaps inconsequential subtext that may or may not be permeating Gonad's streamlined motions?

[LeeRoy]

@Doc Doctor
It was like a strange hallucinatory combination of a Renaissance Painting and a Surrealist Portrait, leaving the scientist not just awestruck but more confused than he's ever been in his entire life. Somehow he felt as though he were beneath the weight of a wrestler's pin while maintaining his standing posture, LeeRoy was a scientific mind and no matter what he thought of he couldn't pin down how Gonad had put him inside of a psychological box.

Wait why hadn't he trained for this?

What?

Okay so hold on, I've got a god that can root through your mind. Why haven't I trained to resist psychological attacks?

What do you mean?

I figure this isn't actually magic but some sort of oppressive aura, but why haven't I been trained to resist this?

Wait so you're telling me the thought never occurred to you? You're the smartest human in this dimension and you haven't thought to resist psychological attacks?

I never thought about fighting back against psychological abilities since I encounter them so sparingly. Once or twice a decade isn't enough to inspire an actual need to fight against it.

Well it would be useful now.

It sure would.

In the time that he mulled over how he should deal with this psychological horror, another sort of horror literally slapped him in the face.

Body Horror.

Gonad's leg struck him in his jaw and solidly unsettled LeeRoy's footing, the man stumbled hard to the right as his face was rocked with another wave of pain. More from the previously inflicted facial injury than the actual kick, but if you punch a bruise it hurts regardless of the source of pain. He toppled to the side, his body almost slumping as he struck against a nearby table. It collapsed under his weight and the force of his fall, it folded around him slightly as his weight settled into it.

LeeRoy frowned as his eyes refocused onto Gonad. This was absurd, and he was not happy to be part of it, he could be solving the mysteries of the universe and right now he was getting slapped around by a musclebound barbarian in a bar.

[Doc Doctor]

@LeeRoy

As LeeRoy tried to refocus on Gonad, he'd find that his opponent was no longer occupying the space he had been in. Where had he...

*Gonad came soaring down like an eagle, having jumped up nearly to the ceiling with his powerful arms. The first thing LeeRoy would register next could very well be his ankles suddenly being pinned beneath Gonad's hands, the barbarian having assumed a strange position. However, were LeeRoy to indeed be pinned, he'd perhaps be able to recall just from where he might have seen the position before. It was... It was...*

A Pommel Horse

Except it wasn't merely a pommel horse. It was much more than that. It was a new technique, one straight out of an Olympian's worst nightmare. In essence, it was...

In a flash Gonad's legs would whirl into a furious dervish of unpredictable, clobbering kicks that would bombard LeeRoy's upper body and head like a set of crazy flails. A puissant fusillade of nonstop pulverizing pain. Any wood from the table that got in the way would be reduced instantly to splinters. It was almost exactly like that lunatic fight scene in the movie "Gymkata", except terrifyingly real. Gonad's thick features were contorted into a devil's grimace, scarred lips pursed with effort and single eye narrowed to a thin visor from which trailed the smoke and liquid fire of his warrior's passion.



The only moments LeeRoy would have to free his ankles would be when Gonad occasionally lifted up a hand to allow his tree trunk set of legs to pass beneath him, building up momentum to continue the onslaught, but the spaceman would have much more to worry about than just getting free. To think that the human body could express itself like this, in such a way that actually put to use some obscene fighting style from a 1985 B-rated action flick. Suspension of Disbelief be fucked.

[LeeRoy]

Services included with a proper beating do not include calling an ambulance. LeeRoy's entire bust was assaulted by a hurricane of limp but devastating blows, each strike left an indent that lingered his flesh. The spring of his flesh wasn't enough to overcome the force of his blows, it left his flesh burning with pain with a strange spongy feeling.

You gonna do something?!

Don't interrupt my counting!

One, two, three!

Though he was being fluttered by a kick that would put Liu King's bicycle kick to shame, LeeRoy was not simply taking a beating for no reason. As Gonad raised his left hand off of his right leg, LeeRoy drew back his own left arm as far as he could. Gonad's hand touched back down and his right arm lifted, putting all of his weight on his right arm.

With as much strength as he could muster, he threw his arm out and around in a wide haymaker to the ribcage of the barbarian. With as much effort as he can put out with a bruised entire pectoral area.

If it succeeded, Gonad would fall headlong toward the floor. His left arm could easily catch him, but LeeRoy's follow up would be to thrust his own weight towards Gonad in an attempt at a mount.

[Doc Doctor]

@LeeRoy

LeeRoy's preparation did not escape the watchful eye of Gonad. Once again Gonad would make no effort to defend himself. If anything he would allow LeeRoy a better shot, further lifting his right hand as LeeRoy launched his attack. The Spaceman's large fist would crash into the barbarian's ribs, cracking two of them and bruising the liver they sheltered. Any other man might have gone limp from such a liver shot, but Gonad's bodily control allowed him to freely regulate his blood pressure.

LeeRoy's clean shot would have a hefty price tag on it. Gonad would heave his grizzly bear weight along with the momentum of the strike whilst also seeking to slap an excruciatingly tight grip upon LeeRoy's left wrist before he could retract it from the blow, for the mighty right hand of Gonad would have been poised above the anticipated target.

When Gonad heaved his weight off of LeeRoy, he'd also twist sharply at the core like a discus thrower, intending to wrench his opponent through the air and into a tight arch by the left arm and right leg, effectively slinging him head and shoulders first into the floor with enough gusto to create a spiral webbing of cracks two feet in diameter along the hard tiles. It was almost like LeeRoy was a big Teddy bear that had been lying beneath a fiesty young lad in bed, who on a whim had vigorously rolled over and unceremoniously dragged his inanimate companion over his body, catapulting it onto the other side of the mattress. Not precisely as such, but such a comparison would be moderately astute. What kind of man could make effective a common childhood wrestling antic? One with the girth of a silverback gorilla, most likely.

This was the dismount. What would the scorecards read!?

[LeeRoy]

@Doc Doctor
It was one of those momentdays of divine realization of one's own mistake as he threw his weight willingly in the direction that Gonad had been aiming to pull him. Though he was no lightweight it was as though he were a plaything in the hands of a child as he slammed into the floor with so much force that his stomach projectiled his lunch from his mouth over his face. Broken bits of tooth clattered across the floor and danced with splinters of wood that were thrown from the point of impact.

On his back he felt like a woman who had bedded a man at least thrice her size, and was really regretting it the next day. The scientist also felt as though his ribs had broken from the slam, though it could just be the sharp pain of his back on the floor. He would check later. Right now he attempted to right himself into a seated position once again, his eyes now totally blurred due to the lack of glasses. His reflective and refractive glasses were actually impotant, and now they were somewhere outside his reach.

Today was not a good day for him, and honestly he was starting to get a bit mad. Something he hasn't felt since he crash landed on a desert planet with a Goliath as his only traveling companion. He raised his right hand to about face level as he sat there on the floor, the palm facing outwards from his own face.

I swear to at least five gods, I'm going to burn off your face. So I never have to imagine that cold aloof stare again.