Tominas — Roleplayer Guild

Jefferson St. John//Dante Virmire

Location: Fighting Ring
Interacting with: Wolfgang Amadeus Smokezart @Rob

Hearing the young woman's query, Mako smiled a toothy grin. "That's a good question!" he bellowed, laughing deeply. For a long, long time. It was a solid two minutes before he finished laughing, heaving and sighing and trying to catch his breath. A very, very awkward two minutes, as the laughter became more nervous towards the end. All eyes were on the instructor as his vision darted around the crowded entrance to the fighting hall. "Heh... Heh... Heh." He swallowed, arching his muzzle upwards ever so slightly as a bead of sweat fell from a whisker. "I, uh, honestly got no clue, missie." His ears perked tall as he stood up straight again, "But we've used these things dozens of times and we've only managed to total two of 'em, so I'm sure they'll probably hold!"

Ignoring any protest, Mako turned towards the American, lighting another cigarette as he extinguished the one in his hand. "And you!..I appreciate the enthusiasm!" He slammed his massive, padded hand against the back of the fifteen year-old's back, making him take a step forward as he was dwarfed by the massive wolf. "So don't let me stop ya! Let's get to a ring and get things started!"

As the large wolfman laughed at her question Dante stopped looking around and gave the huge beast her attention.... But he didn't stop... he slowly died off from the laughter, telling her he didn't know what they were made of. Dante sighed, but after a few moments began to laugh. It was just funny that this guy didn't know. As he led her and Jefferson to the ring Dante could feel her heart quicken it's pace, she felt her body tense. When they were finally in the ring and it was time to fight, Dante turned to Jefferson and held her left fist out to him.
"May the best fighter win."
 
Jefferson wrapped his hands before hopping into the strange, metal ring, no gloves to be found. Cigarette smoke drifted through the air, and out the corner of his eye he could see the wolfman light up another as he tossed a butt to the side. Jefferson was almost positive he shouldn't be doing that, but he wasn't the phys. ed. instructor, so who was he to judge? He saw Dante hop into the ring and noticed something odd. No handwraps, no gloves, nothing. He raised an eyebrow at that; she could break a hand if she wasn't careful. Still, it probably had something to do with her Quirk, and she thought they had a relatively fair fight without his.
 
That meant a few things.
 
First off, it wasn't something that could instantly incapacitate him. She wouldn't agree to fight with it if it was, by her character. No electricity, no poisons, no mind control. That was a good start.
 
Second, she wasn't using handwraps. Something defensive, maybe? It wasn't a mutation, at least not a visible one. Her skeleton could be made of plastic explosives, for all he knew. She had callouses ON her knuckles, but no cuts or bruises. She had fought before, so she knew what she was doing... definitely something defensive. At that point, the real question is whether or not Jefferson would be able to penetrate it for his own blows. He had to get in quick and floor her as hard and fast as he could, if he wanted to have a chance.
 
That is, unless she planned on forcing him to use his own, then she could have anything from laser vision to lightning hands. This, this right here was why he hated fighting with Quirks. He wasn't too keen on professional circuits, but he knew the heavy hitter here in Japan, Yamashiro Iwao, had Concussive Fists. He could be dealing with something similar. But he doubted it.
 
Grey smoke billowed from the side of the ring, the wolfman's eyes glimmering with some mixture of excitement and curiosity as he rested against the edge of the ring out, tail lazily drifting back and forth. No judges, no scoring, so it was a sparring match. He could do that.
 
Jefferson took a deep breath, filling his lungs as he closed his eyes, hearing the echo form a perfect, three-dimensional image of the ring, the students outside, the wolfman... and Dante. He opened them again, shattering the vision in his mind's eye. No Quirks. He looked up at her, smiling that his handwraps and closed shoes would stop him from using his own. She said something in Japanese, but he didn't need to pay attention. They both knew what was happening. He didn't bother to translate his words as he stepped forward, firmly focused on the task at hand. "Let's go." He bumped her fist and popped in his mouthguard, taking a low, forward stance. His weight on the balls of his feet, his fists clenched, he waited for the wolfman to call it.
 
Dante stepped back and got into a defensive stance, setting her right foot forward. She kept her hands partly open, like she was holding two invisible soda bottles. She put her arms in front of her face and chest, bouncing with her weight focused on the balls of her feet. what hair she had that wasn't tied behind her head was bobbing around with her. She felt the seconds drag on. For a moment it was if time had stopped... Then the wolfman let out a howling "Let's go!" His voice boomed, echoing throughout the room.

At the sound Dante sprang into action immediately, rushing forward and throwing a hard right jab directly at Jefferson's chin. She was hoping to test his defense before anything else.
 
Jefferson had boxed for half of his life, with several different coaches as he grew older. They would disagree on minutiae, tell him to do things differently than the last coach, but a few things were constant. The first thing they agreed on was that the kid was fast, especially for a heavy. He stepped inside her guard as she launched a long jab at him, using the opportunity to get up close and personal. Jefferson’s arms were already up to catch her blow, feeling the impact sting as she made contact. Not as bad as it could’ve been. She punched like a strong amateur, and now she was overextended. Already forward, the foreigner let loose a quick flurry of short body-blows towards her ribs, mashing his forehead into her temple and pushing her back. She protected her head too much, and he wanted to get her in the corner before she had a chance to use her Quirk. 
 
The several blows to her body hit like bricks. This kid was fast. When he attacked her body it left him open on his side, so she planted her feet, but as she did he got her in the temple and she was pushed back. She barely managed to keep from moving back, and shot a left hook at his body, following it with a right, her blows were slower than his but she put her strength behind both of them, trying to get him to back off. She could already feel her body tightening up and bruising over, and It was clear from his one counter attack that Jefferson definitely outclassed her when it came to skill.  She either had to finish this fast, or use her quirk. If she didn't it was certain she was definitely going to lose.
 
Her feet planted, the Japanese girl tried to bat him off with a pair of hooks, Jefferson blocking the left hook but taking the blow to his left side. Her knuckles dug into his lat as he pressed forward, continuing his onslaught. She was strong, but slow, and nowhere near the fighter his oldest sister was. She had good senses, though, and she hit hard. His side was red from the impact, he could tell that much, and would most likely be quite pretty the following day if she kept it up. Still, he ignored the pain as he pressed forward, only expressing himself through a hard grunt through his mouthpiece as he followed her into the corner, keeping his head in her temple and shoving hard. He feinted towards the same patch in her side, subbing in a clenched fist upwards at her chin. Simultaneously, he readied his left hand for another body blow to her right, keeping his arm in tight to protect his side. He wasn't the best boxer his sisters had trained, but he knew to keep his shots short and his jabs long, protecting himself as he went. She still hadn’t used her Quirk, as far as the American could tell, and if he had anything to say about it she wouldn’t get the chance. He kept pushing towards the corner. If he could get her against the hard metal edges of the ring, it was only a matter of time before he floored her.
 
Dante have any other choice but to back up, or she would take a hard shot to the chin. She had has come in too close, not expecting Jefferson to have such speed, and now she was stuck. She had to back out now.
Dante side stepped backwards, barely avoiding the blow and slowly moving into the corner, if she got in there, unless she used uses her quirk, she was dead meat. As she side stepped she bent low, kept her left arm up for protection, and sent another hard jab directly at his abdomen. When she let the blow fly her whole upper body twisted and sent the force of her body with the blow. It wasn't a game ender, but it might, hopefully get him off her back.
 
He saw the punch coming a mile away. She reared back and threw a haymaker, leaving him with plenty of time to shift his guard. For a second, he thought she was going to shove him backwards with the force of the blow, but the familiar sting of the block kept him in the moment… where she had just taken a full step forward to throw that reckless shot, and his left hand was still prepped and ready for a hard punishing jab to her right. He aimed for the exact same place his earliest combo had targeted, careful to avoid a kidney punch. It was possible she would come away from this with a cracked rib, but he doubted it. She seemed tough, which was a good thing considered how unrefined her defense was. Just not tough enough to win, if he had anything to say about it. Another two steps to the corner and one hard flurry, then the match was as good as his. He would smile, if it weren’t for the animal snarl already keeping his face occupied.
 
Dante felt the body blow hit home once again and grunted as pain shot up and down her right side. She stepped back, once again trying to avoid any more quick strikes. She was just about to attack again when she felt the edge of the ring touch her back. He had managed to push her all the way from the center of the ring to the edge. Well, I guess I'm going to have to use my quirk.
As she was standing in the corner Dante let her defense drop and had a large menacing grin on her face, not the kind of look you'd expect from someone in a corner. Her eyes raised to his and she saw the ferocious look on his face, and he could see the devilish, excited look on hers.
"Game Over."
Dante reached behind her and let the back of her hand touch the cool metal of the ring, and then as she was touching it She she felt a tightening, stiffening sensation quickly shoot up her arm and wrap around her chest, neck, face, and within moments her entire body. To everyone it would look like liquid metal had just covered her skin but in actuality, her body had just  become the same kind of metal as in the ring.
The ring groaned slightly as her weight shot up from being the weight of a large girl the the weight of a six foot block of steel, putting her at over two thousand pounds. Dante's grin turned into a dangerous smile as she met Jefferson's gaze with her now metallic eyes.
"My Turn."
And with that Dante planted her left foot, the ring visibly shaking as she slung a low uppercut into the American’s stomach, throwing her weight behind the blow. 
 
The second Dante had touched the edge of the ring, the hair on the back of Jefferson’s neck stood up. He knew something was coming, but didn’t know what. Settling back into his guard, he watched as the metal curled around her body, frantically trying to figure out some angle of attack when she rushed forward. He had expected her to slow down when the ring creaked with her newfound weight, but she was as fast as ever. He had relaxed his defense for a single, critical moment, and she seized the opportunity. He growled as her fist ground into his arms, barely brought up in time. Playing baseball as a child, he had been hit by a bat before. This wasn’t all that different, except this time the bat was solid and flying towards his kidneys. His arms barely caught the blow before it slipped past his guard and slammed into his solar plexus. Stars burst in front of his eyes as he crumpled like a car wrapped around a tree, staggering backwards and raising his fists to guard against any follow ups as he desperately tried to catch his breath. Normally she hit hard, now she hit stupidly hard.
 
Most of the time, when someone watches boxing for the first time, they think that shots to the head are the best route. Unfortunately, Jefferson’s body was full of useful organs that didn’t like to be bludgeoned by a hundred pounds of steel, which was why he coughed blood onto the back of his handwraps as he strove to keep his eyes on the smirking girl. He didn’t have to look at his arms to know that they were bleeding too, and he did NOT want to take another punch like that. If he got in close, made sure she didn’t have room for another and went for a low punch to the jaw… it would break his hand.
 
He settled back into a defensive stance, keeping up his footwork as he bobbed and weaved, slipping away from jabs and evading away from her corner. This was bad. If he didn’t think of an avenue for an offensive, the fight was as good as over.
 
The wolfman was rapidly swapping out his cigarettes as he watched the fight, his lighter sparking to life every few blows that were exchanged. The odor of ash was overpowering, punching through the taste of blood and the roaring in Jefferson’s ears, bombarding the brawler with all too much sensory information. In some corner of his mind, the American wondered if the wolfman’s hackles were raised as he addressed the silver girl fighting out of the corner. “Alright kid, solid hit! Blue, she showed you hers, man up or get out! If you don’t take this seriously, she sure as hell will!!!”
 
Distantly, he knew that the teacher was just trying to get him to make a decision. As far as the wolf was concerned, he could use his Quirk or quit. This difference wasn't something that could be made up for with a pair of handwarps... but he only heard one thing from the rough, masculine voice. Something he heard all too often from a separate set of tones, lighter, more feminine, and stronger than anyone else.
 
Man up.
 
For a split second, the rational part of the boxer’s mind told him to stop. He wasn’t going to win this fight, not now, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to hurt himself for a sparring match. He ignored it. Jefferson snarled as he leapt forward, coiling his left hand at the shoulder as he guarded with his right, throwing a haymaker into the bottom of her jaw that would’ve floored anyone his weight, anyone normal, anyone not made of steel. 

But that wasn’t who he was fighting.
 
Jefferson felt something crack in his fist, and wondered, in the back of his mind, how much force it actually took to break a bone. Then the world turned grey at the borders, pain consuming his thoughts. He said nothing, just stood there panting, his good hand wrapped around the bad wrist. Blood pattered from his broken knuckles onto the floor.

The rough voice barked again from the edge of the ring, the huge man hopping the ropes, heading towards the two fighters. “Blue!” he pointed at Jefferson, the student's eyes focused on his bleeding hand. “Outta the ring!” His fingers guiding him off the pentagon. 

Smokes billowed from his mouth as he turned towards Dante. “Nice work, missie!”. With his hand resting on top of her head, Mako strangely began to give her a pat while tousling around her hair. “But next time, learn to hold back; its just a spar!” 

Although letting out boisterous laughter as he spoke, Mako wanted to explain to Dante the importance of control. Unlike the rest, heroes had the burden of always having to keep their quirks in check and know when it was necessary to go all out.

TL;DR: Jefferson outboxed Dante, who hits like a truck, pushing her into the corner. She got in a few blows, but the tide turned when she used her quirk. Jefferson broke his hand against her jaw like a dumb because he was overly inspired by Wolfkin Kamina.
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