Kings (Travis, Spectators)

[Allen Daughtry]

It had been a few days since the German immigrant had taken his first steps into the Moral Crest campus, and he was already growing restless. In his months as a wielder of power in the back alleys and dirt roads of Mostar, the dark-eyed Gareth Rahkier was beginning to feel the difference between his high life as a rogue in the Bosnian underground, and the life of a commoner in the golden halls of a grand American school like PHS 42. It almost felt worse, considering that while he had only been the King of a grime-ridden mafia, he had been at the top of a small chain; now he was at the bottom of a considerably larger hierarchy of those in power, and now the court was a world where those at the top could literally have anything they desired. Power here was not just something to toss around, it was an art to wield, and there was truly something of value behind it.

But now, Rahkier was just another commoner, and was without anything to call his own. He was powerless, and the thought made him sick. He wanted a mantle; he wanted POWER. Fortunately, he was starting to find out that there were ways to climb the ladder, and they were rather simple.

Today, the Wolf barged in through the main entrance with a purpose. He would wait no longer. He would fight to take his place at the throne through his own might. He wore the same clothes as he usual, but now the dark sunglasses were sitting atop his face, and his grin was wider than ever before. He marched through the main corridor, appearing as if so much energy was pouncing inside of him that he were ready to burst. Normally, he'd have kept going onward down the halls, but today was different: today would be the start of the journey.

With an abrupt turn to the right, Gareth would jump onto a vacant table typically used by the school's advisor for students arriving late to school. He would kick aside the papers and the stamps and glare down at the dozens of students that passed by him, though many were now glaring back, dubious to his sudden rise above them. With sudden force, the chiseled man tossed his arms about him and cried out in force to garner their attention, to bring their ears to him.

"Students of Moral Crest, you vill know my name soon, so LOOK UP!" Gareth began, his shaded eyes staring down at each of them, his arms waving wildly to point at each person, "My name is Gareth A. Rahkier. I seek honor, I seek respect, but most of all, I seek power. To prove my vorth, and to begin my task, I demand dat one of you fight me now, in front of the rest. Show your own power, and I will honor it!"

There was nothing beyond the speech. It was simple, adrenaline packed, and likely made Gareth look like a crazed European muscle boy, but to him, it was completely serious. He was tired of being weak, of being a sheep, of being any other person, and the only way he saw it was through two lanes: one, to grab attention by those with attention and make them want him on their side, or two, to bring himself a reputation.

In the end, he knew someone would challenge him. It was too far beyond the nature of the American students - someone would chide back and fight, and even if Rahkier lost, he'd at least have his first step. No matter what, he would gain his power, even if he had to accept a role as someone minion to do so.

Someday he'd be a King.

[Travis]

Students of Moral Crest, you vill know my name soon, so LOOK UP!

The voice unfamiliar, but the words he spoke told Travis that this was going to be worth watching, even if it only lead to a fight of some kind, it would be better then nothing. Travis had grown board in this school so far, there hadn't been much to appease him at all. But he wasn't completely about to give up on this place. No, there had to be something that he could do to make himself happy. No matter what it took, he'd find some way to keep himself busy here. This place had turned out to be far less entertaining then 259. That could all change shortly though.

My name is Gareth A. Rahkier. I seek honor, I seek respect, but most of all, I seek power. To prove my vorth, and to begin my task, I demand dat one of you fight me now, in front of the rest. Show your own power, and I will honor it.

Travis couldn't help but slip that cocky grin on his face now. This male wanted a show of strength, a show of ability. He wanted to fight to become the best, and Travis' own wants were quite close to this foreigner's. Travis just wanted to prove himself as one of the best fighter's around town. He knew it was true, he knew that he could wipe the floor with most people. But the student body at 42 didn't know this just yet. Soon enough though, Travis Delmonte would be a name the knew, and feared for the fighting abilities he brought to the table.

"If it's a showdown you want, I'm all for it. There is nothing I like more then crushing someone's face in."

Travis knew nothing about the male that was currently standing upon the table right there. He didn't know how strong he was, but if he was announcing things that way, then he had to be strong, right? It wouldn't make since for a weak person to put himself in the spotlight like that, without the ability to back it all up. Travis right hand would lift, and that gloved had of his would wave the boy forward, that cocky grin still upon his face.

[Allen Daughtry]

It only took a moment for the challenge to be accepted. A man with orange hair cried back, mentioning something about 'crushing faces', which instantly drew Gareth's attention. As his own mahogany eyes lit, the Wolf jumped down from the makeshift platform with a loud clap and shoved a large clump of onlookers away, working to get his new opponent in clear view.

At last, the man was within reach, and Gareth responded, "Yes, I desire a fight. I am happy you vill take part. So excuse my first strike!"

Rahkier was never one for formalities or introduction, besides the need to request the fight from the beginning. As he accepted the battle, a small clear ring began to open for the two fighters to engage, as onlookers gaped in curiosity and shared their own opinions. Now five feet from the orange-haired man, Rahkier only spent a short time to crack his knuckles before finally starting his attack.

Taking a large stride forward, the Wolf planted his left leg as a lead, and followed with his right leg as a support. Bringing his right arm to his side, Gareth pulled up his left arm and held it directly in front of his chest, before sending it forward in a violent volley toward his challenger's own chest in a rapid jab. It was a simple start, a good way to begin, and the thought could not help but bring a wide grin to Rahkier's face.

[Travis]

Yes, I desire a fight. I am happy you vill take part. So excuse my first strike!

Travis would simply smirk and nod, watching as the foriegner came forward, pushing himself through the crowds until he was in range. He definitely liked that the male didn't decide to pull off some large speech or anything like that before he decided to throw a punch. Instead the male came in, and threw something right away. The punch in form came in relatively quickly, a simple jab. Travis noted the boy's speed, but he had no plans of simply dodging or countering. Instead, Travis' own attack would move forward to meet it.

His own left arm would snap out in the form of a jab, intending to land his knuckles against Gareth's. He was sure if it connected, the male would realize that Travis held strength that very few could contest. Upon impact Travis would withdraw his arm, and his right leg would snap out low. He was simply attempting to distract the male with his show of strength, and then use a low kick to connect that shin of his right leg against his opponent's left ankle to kick them from under him.

[Allen Daughtry]

'Ah fuck!'

Gareth hadn't expected his opponent to actually try and counter his jab with a mirror strike, and even if had, it appeared that there would have been no time to try a feint: his opponent's speed was enough to best him without a doubt. Regardless, when the two fists collided, the Wolf immediately felt the pain rush through his left arm, and felt his arm fly back from the momentum of his opponent's attack more so than a withdrawal. Pulling his arm down to his abdomen, Gareth would have to try and nurse his left fist for a short while, as the damage given had been severe from his opponent's strike. It had clearly been used as a way to prove his own power, and now Rahkier was paying for it.

When Gareth saw his opponent withdraw his attack as well, it became clear that he was about to attempt some sort of kick, though he wasn't sure what until it actually began. Once his opponent's right shin flew through the air, Rahkier recognized that there that while he could jump back to evade the attack, he would rather try to use the opportunity for a counter attack. Thus, when he saw the oncoming shin kick, Gareth responded by picking up his left leg and sliding it toward his opponent's oncoming kick, and sending his own left foot toward the oncoming shin with his sole aimed flat toward the attack to avoid particular damage and to negate the leg's momentum. Once his opponent's leg was stopped, Rahkier would replant his foot and shift his weight onto his left side to send his own right leg into a high kick toward his opponent's chest area, to try and force him back.

[Travis]

Travis' kick was nulled due to the foot that planted on it. Travis probably could have forced his limb through and switched up his attack to boot, but he wouldn't. Instead he waited to react until he knew for sure he could land something. And when the high kick came in, Travis couldn't help but smirk. Instead of deflecting or blocking it, Travis would take the kick to his chest. He hadn't retreated his right leg on purpose. There was usually a reason as to why he did something like this. The kick would connect with Travis' chest, and while the pain would be transferred through Travis' upperbody, he'd simply shift his weight onto that right leg. His left hand would lift up from below and he'd aim to grasp the leg that planted against his body.

In a single swift movemnt Travis was looking to grasp that attacking leg, and then continue to push it upward as he would throw his weight forward. All in all, Travis was going to attempt to bring Gareth's leg up as high as he cool. The boy better hope that he was flexible or it would hurt far more then Travis actually intended. He'd look to turn his right shoulder forward, and slam it against Gareth's left side of his own chest. And that was when his hold upon the leg would be used against him.

Travis' left arm would then tug to the left, and his body would begin to rotate counter-clockwise, as he'd aim to give a quick spin and use that tug to hopefully whip the boy around mid air and give him a good toss toward the lockers somewhere behind him. Travis was a relentless figher, and always had been. And due to the fact that he held strength great enough to whip even the largest of males around with ease, he liked to show that off. If it all went as planned, Travis would turn his body to watch the other male flying, and then shift into a run toward him.

[Allen Daughtry]

Gareth felt the kick land against his opponent's chest, and immediately felt a surge of satisfaction in the success. The way he saw it, the damage done was just a first step in a long road of victory, and even when he was thwarted with his ankle feeling the pressure of a grab, he did not fret. He merely considered his options.

Since the right leg had been had an obtuse angle from his left leg due to the high kick, it would be difficult for him to kick out of the grab and escape, and there was no real way to fall out of the trap either, since his opponent would just then have someone to drag around with his hand firmly planted on Gareth's ankle. Instead, as he felt his opponent press his right leg high up into the air and began to stretch his muscles to their limits, the Wolf decided that an offensive follow-up strike was the best way to escape - and catch his opponent off guard all at the same time.

Thus, as his opponent would take a step forward to try and hit his right shoulder into Gareth's chest, the German would be kicking his supporting left leg into the air and, using his opponent's grip on his ankle as a temporarily support of his weight, use the new position to "pull" himself toward his opponent's chest and "land" a firm left stomp onto Travis' chest as he came forward, effectively knocking Rahkier in the opposite direction - and dealing any significant damage to his opponent that came with the spring jump.

If his opponent released his ankle, Rahkier would merely fling back and roll across the ground before standing back up and returning to a defensive stance. If, however, Travis somehow retained the grip, then Gareth's torso would fall downward, with his left leg still pressed against his opponent's chest, and he would try to use his sheer weight to force his freedom.

[Travis]

The male which Travis currently had in his grasp surprised him when the other leg came up to meet his chest head on. While yes, it was daring and it would do some damage, Travis' hand was like a vice grip, and he had no intentions of letting it loose just yet. And as the boy in front of him would start to fall back to the earth, Travis would simply let gravity do it's job, and capitalize upon it.

As the boy's body feel forward, Travis would right hand would lift and he'd aim to grip the other leg which the boy had insisted on keeping upon Travis' chest. He'd bend over slightly as the boy dropped to the ground, and it was then that he'd apply his weight, and push the boy's legs down hard so that he could slam the boy upon his back, and practically bend his legs up and over his head.

If he managed to get him in this position, Travis' body would straighten, and that left boot of his would shoot forward, his hands release just before his kick would make contact. The kick would have enough force behind it to knock Gareth's body skidding down the hallway, through the crowd of onlookers, and Travis would slowly stalk toward him down the path he would made.