Sara Quinn vs Allen Daughtry

[Mathew Amtrum]

Sandstorm: In lieu of an actual desert, we've created a room specifically built for the purpose of getting sand stuck in place you never knew you had. Multiple vacuum tubes line the walls, and a healthy heaping of sand has been deposited on the floor. High-powered currents through the vacuums suck sand up from one place and spit it out at another, creating a sandstorm-like effect. The bursts are powerful, but not so much that you'll be knocked over. You're just gonna be reaaaal uncomfortable during the fight. Good luck fighters.

[Sara Quinn]

Sara stepped into the room and looked around. There was sand. Everywhere. And what looked like vacuums along the walls. There was a soft humming noise that concerned her, but that was okay... Great. Perfect. Just what she needed. This was going to be fun... Pffft.

She took a step further in and reached into her pocket, pulling out a hair tie. She hated fighting with her hair down. People tended to grab a hold of it and swing her around. It wasn't hard at 5'2" to do that to her. She pulled her hair into a tight bun so it didn't fall down or get in her way. This was going to suck so much, she would have to shower for days to get the sand out of her her hair.

Once she was done with that, she kicked off her shoes. It would be easier to go without those. Then she walked further into the room. She was glad she had chosen to wear the tight short and t-shirt. Yes. Unfortunately, it was a t-shirt~Now that she had a nasty scar on her chest, she was going to be avoiding tank tops for a while.

But she was ready to get it on~! Where was her opponent? She was going to kick their ass... Her eyes fell to him. It was someone she had never seen before. She didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing. She knew nothing about the way they fought, or their skills, but it also meant the same for them.

"Hi there." She cocked her hip, her hand falling to it as she smiled at him. Then the humming from the vents kicked up another notch and the vacuums started to whir as the sand was picked up and tossed around. It was slow starting, but it was going to be a full out sand storm in a matter of seconds.

Well... She might as well get this started. She ran forward as the sand began to move, her right fist drawing back to slam into his face, hoping to keep her attention on her fist. When she was close enough though, she dropped to her left knee, her right leg sweeping out instead to catch him off guard and trip him. HA! Take that!

[Allen Daughtry]

'I near fall into Hell, and my first fight out of the hospital is in a sandstorm?'

The circumstances of the day were odd. Having just recovered from a few months' worth of severe trauma, the cerulean-eyed Allen Daughtry found himself starting over once again. He had been reassigned to a new school in the San Francisco area after the apparent destruction of his former school - Hircine High - and about six weeks into his treatment, the city's ruling education council informed him that he was to be irrevocably transferred to another school, since Hircine had all been obliterated.

But Daughtry was used to it. Over the last few years, he had become something of a wanderer, traveling from one part of the country to another, without any particular purpose in his life, and without anyone to care for. He was a lone wolf, a rogue, and now he having to try his luck at a new establishment. Normally, most kids would just take it easy, try to take the observational approach, talk to a few people and learn the facts of their new school. But after sitting on his ass and dealing with weeks of excruciating physical therapy, Allen Daughtry realized that he needed to break away from the cautionary and take a risk.

To say he had contracted cabin fever would be an understatement, and the only cure was to push his limits.

So when he heard about a freelance tournament being held by one of his new classmates, he jumped at the opportunity to test himself. Yet, he hadn't taken into consideration what he was about to partake in, and once he stepped into the arena area that he was assigned, the ebony-shaded man started to worry. He was going to fight an opponent through a sandstorm.

He stood on his end of the large hall filled with pile upon pile of beige and white dirt, his mouth open wide with surprise, his eyes trying to accept the fact that there was literally nothing but sand. Yet, once he finally absorbed the new reality around him, Daughtry decided there were some necessary modifications to be made. He realized that the low hum that echoed around him was clearly coming from something beyond the building's own ventilation, and as he glanced around, realized that the host had constructed some kind of artificial wind machine. Considering there'd be a tremendous amount of sand being thrown into the air around him, Allen decided on a different approach to what his opponent apparently chose: he'd cover as much skin as possible.

It wasn't too difficult, since Daughtry almost always wore long pants of some kind, thick shoes, and his personal leather jacket. All he needed to add to this was a pair of brown leather gloves to protect his hands from the fake storm, to zip up his leather jacket to the brim and pull out a tight elastic band to keep his sunglasses firmly pressed over his eyes. His strategy was decided on the fact that while he would be less agile than his opponent evidently would be, he would be protected from the storm's onslaught, and would have an extra layer of padding around his body to aid against any blow. Further, the texture of the leather could give him a better grip on the area around him, or so he hoped.

At last, as he finished his preparations, his opponent confronted him. She was easily going to be the faster of the two, what with her small build and athletic clothing. She seemed nice enough, and she said hello, but in a fight, that didn't matter in the least. There would be time for being sociable later; now was time to spill some blood on the sand.

The girl seemed to recognize this, because almost immediately after introducing herself, she charged forward at Daughtry, her right fist held up and back as if she planned to make a strike at Allen's head. The man found this an odd way to open a fight, especially in an arena that would likely prefer aerial fighting and make sure footing near-impossible, and he suspected a feign. So he decided the best way to react was by making a counter she wouldn't expect.

As Sara broke the distance between them, Daughtry would slide back his right side, his right foot swimming through the grimy white soil below, with his left leg pressing firmly in front of him and his left arm leaning forward and bending, making him appear to be in a defensive position. But the arm would also substitute as a balance, as Allen suddenly kicked his right side forward with an upward force to begin a high right kick into the air where the girl's head and left side would evidently be. He did not stay on the ground however, as he led his left side to follow, with his entire body spinning upward.

This would occur just as the girl's feint began, resulting in Daughtry practically floating above her just as she would slide across the ground. What had begun as Allen's counter attack unintentionally became an evasion, and so Daughtry would not able to strike again until he landed firmly onto the sand at the girl's right side, his left side now sliding backward into the sandy ground as his right led him. For the time being, he decided against attacking a follow up, and allowed the girl to stand up if she so chose to make another attack.

[/font]

[Sara Quinn]

Sara dropped to her knee, her right leg sweeping out, just as he kicked off the ground, both legs sweeping through the air over her. Her only thought was Oh shit... Good timing... That had been perfect. Although she was frustrated that her attack had done nothing to him, what else could she do. Her attack had saved her, turning his move into more of an evasion then an attack. It was a good thing. She smiled. Ya. A good thing.

He landed at her right side, but it seemed he wasn't going to attack her again just yet. She looked up at him, squinting as the sand picked up. Lucky bugger had sunglasses. Her lips pursed. She wished they had been given some sort of hint as to what they would be facing coming into this, so now she could only work with what she had on her. On her... Mhm... There's an idea...

She stood, turning to face him directly, and backed away a few feet, a knowing smile on her face. The sand was picking up quickly, and she needed to cover her mouth if she wanted to breath. They were both at a disadvantage here. The only up he would have on her would be the sunglasses. She had forfeited layers of clothing to keep her movement unrestricted. The sand would hurt her skin when it got to full force, but it wouldn't be so bad. She would survive in other words. He might have some trouble moving. But he would have no problem with his vision. She would. As it stood, he could also breath, and she couldn't. She could already feel the grimy sand in her mouth. But she would change that.

She smiled at him, confidence radiating off her as her fingers ran along the hem of her shirt. Then, with a quick wink, she pulled it up and over her head. She had a bra on under it, but it would hopefully still shock him that she had taken her shirt off. She gave him another smile as she tore the bottom 8-10 inches off the shirt and then ripped it so it was just one big strip. Then she tied it around her head, effectively covering her mouth and nose. There was some extra fabric bunched just under her eyes in case she needed to pull it over her eyes if it got to bad. She would fight blind if it would save her pain.

Then she let her right foot slide behind her, her body turning slightly, arms held loosely in front of her, fists gently clenched, letting him know it was his attack. Sara sucked at attacking. She could counter amazingly though. So he could bring it on~

[Allen Daughtry]

There were a few reasons why Allen Daughtry disliked fighting women. One of them was the undeniable, down-to-the-bones guilt that he felt whenever he was forced to bring his down on a female in any sort of fight. He couldn't help it: he, like most normal men, had an instinctive command etched into his subconscious circuitry that foresaw men as the protectors of the potential mothers of their offspring. It was an ancient tradition of his gender long passed down through one hundred and fifty thousand years, and no matter what he tried, there was no ignoring that insatiable bother that itched at the back of his morality.

But he was a fighter, and a believer in equality, and if the girl wanted a fight, she'd damn well get one.

Yet, there was a second reason why the man did not like fighting women, and that was, quite frankly, because of an unfair advantage that the opposing gender had on men. Sex.

So when she took a step back and winked at him, Allen could not help but fear the worst, and as he watched the girl grab the end of her shirt and pull upward, his cerulean eyes widened behind his sunglasses, and he knew his foresight had been right. The damned foresight.

"Oh no you didn't." Allen whispered through a gaping mouth of a sheer surprise as the girl revealed the chest underneath, belly to neckline, with the only thing now saving Allen from an embarrassing flash of sexual anxiety was a simple bra. The man's hands tightened in a nervous clench as he forced back a gulp of worry and shook his head to clear his mind. He had dealt with worse, and had been able to control himself in true situations of lust, so of all times, he'd be able to drown the sensation with another - that of violence.

'Sex doesn't mix well with violence... at least for me, thank God.'

Gritting his teeth, Daughtry watched as the girl took her own defensive stance and practically waved him over to attack. Daughtry shook his head in frustration, and returned to his own stance of a leading left foot and supporting right leg planted behind him. Yet, the ebony shaded warrior noticed something curious, and realized that there was a way for him to try and hit back at the girl's use of psychological warfare.

Turning his grimace of frustration into a grin of false egotism, Daughtry would lean forward, his left arm leading him, before quipping out in a rapid tone, "A hand print? Wow, that's hot... like fire much?"

And once the words were spoken, Allen would kick himself forward with his left leg, bending his leg outward to give himself a spring forward to send his right side out in front of him and into the air to attempt a high right arc kick at the girl's' left side, with his right foot arcing downward from his own direction and heading upward to his left. His own left leg would remain on the ground, though without an anchor.

If she wanted to play dirty, so would he.

'I always wanted to get it on in the sand, ha!'[/font]

[Sara Quinn]

She waited patiently to see what he did. She hoped the shirt thing had thrown him off, even just a little. That would be nice. She both loved and hated fighting guys. She hated fighting women more then anything. Hands down. Most girls fought dirty. She couldn't say she fought clean, but she damn well fought better then some of the other girls she had come across.

When it came to guys though? Most were to scared to take her seriously, afraid of hurting her, or just the mentality of not hitting a girl. This was a plus in some ways. It made for a faster fight, but made it less exciting. If Sara was going to fight, she wanted to fight. The problem was, most were bigger then her. Again, both a positive and a negative. Did it matter at this point though? No. He needed to get on with it.

He spoke. About the burn on her chest. Well. That sucked... She was shocked for a moment, but it immediately turned to anger. If his goal had been to piss her off to the point that she wanted to murder him, then he had succeeded. She had forgotten about the burn. She had become kind of used to it now that she had had it a while. His comment... Actually kinda hurt. And any man should know better then to say something like that to a girl. Wow~He really knew how to piss a girl off.

His left foot planted, his right coming up in a kick at her side. She saw her opening, and she took it. She ducked as the leg came up, using her speed and agility to its full potential. As soon as her body began to move to avoid the leg, she pushed off her right foot, throwing herself towards him. It wasn't so much as a dodge, as she needed her body low to do this. She was avoiding the full brunt of the kick either way simply by moving like this even if she failed.

As his leg arced, she would try to catch him between his legs with her left shoulder. She hoped to use the uneven footing of the sand, and the fact that his balance on only one leg would be off, to her advantage. Her left arm would move up his back, and her hand would fist in the back of his jacket. The right arm would do the same in the front, and she would try to push him down in something like a football players tackle.

[Allen Daughtry]

'She really wants to castrate me, huh?'

As the right leg flung upward, Allen's perception noticed the immediate response made by Sara in a counter attack, and to his surprise, she was going to attempt some kind of dive or tackle at his inner thighs. He had never seen such a reaction to a high kick before, and though it was new, Daughtry had his own solution to the problem.

It was terribly simple: he would casually force his left leg to unbend at full with enough force to bring it to the air. Had he made the right kick without any of his body's weight following it, then the kick would not only have been weak, but he'd have been stuck, waiting for the tackle by his opponent. Yet, fortunately enough, the fact that he had most of his body's momentum in the direction of the kick gave way to a pull, and once he gave his left leg to the force of the pull, he would be in a spin kick once again, his left following in the path of his right leg as his torso curved back.

Before, the girl had been able to evade his attack with her own sweep kick, but now her tackle left her within range, and worse, her own momentum left little escape. Thus, as the left leg flung upward to follow the arc kick made by Allen's right leg, the back of his left foot would come into direct contact with Sara's body, particularly her head, as it followed suit. If he struck the girl's head, the force would likely be enough for his left leg to continue the momentum and land safely at her right side; yet, if she somehow evaded, Daughtry would still be safe, as he'd merely land on her right side once more, just as he had before. [/font]

[Sara Quinn]

The leg that Sara had thrown herself at suddenly shifted in front of her. The moment it moved, she knew she was screwed. Pretty much the only thing she could do was wait for whatever he was planning to happen. There was no way she could dodge or evade... But she could try to counter...? The leg lifted, coming up towards her as she threw herself forward. She tried to pull out of her tackle, her feet planting as she tried to stop. She could use this to her advantage...

She would stay hunched over, knees bent slightly,as the leg came up. She slid slightly in the sand, putting her at the perfect distance. The back of his leg would hit her, his foot at her stomach. His calf would slam into her chest and she would cough slightly from the force. But it wouldn't be as bad as it could have been as the force of his kick was distributed. Her arms would then came up, hugging the leg to her chest.

Her hunched body should be enough to distribute the force of his kick, effectively disrupting his attack. She would be kicked upwards slightly, but her bent knees would again help with that. Now she would just need to act quickly. Her right arm would leave his leg, while her left remained holding it to her chest. Her fist would move up slightly, and then she would slam it into the back of his knee, slamming her knuckles into the joint. This would hopefully bust up his knee cap, ~maybe~ some tendons. Either way, it would hopefully disrupt his mobility. She didn't like his crazy way of fighting, and wanted to keep him grounded.

[Allen Daughtry]

Allen Daughtry was about to become a fuckin' boomerang.

Had the girl simply evaded the hit or taken it, Allen Daughtry would have comfortably landed on both legs and been ready for the next sequence. But alas, the girl somehow detected the kick in time to prepare a makeshift counterattack, and was suddenly standing in the space that had been between Allen's left and right legs. She successfully caught his left leg, his calf now pressed against her abdomen. However, there was a factor that she failed to consider in her sudden response: the other leg.

Considering the momentum of Allen's attack, he had essentially tossed his entire weight into the air, with the majority following his right leg, with the rest following in the same direct path. To suddenly null the movement of the minor leg would not eliminate the entire attack, it merely pins down one end of a spring to a wall in mid-air, practically forcing the other end to pull back with incredible force.

All metaphors aside, the effect and Allen's own intended counter were simple. Once he felt the sudden pressure of Sara's body holding his left leg, the man would merely push his torso further to his right, forcing his right leg to arc back inward. Had his left leg been free, Allen would have been tossed outward and away. Now that his left leg was caught, Daughtry's body was grounded, and his right leg would now essentially orbit that new hold by kicking inward with all of its force. The end result would be the entirety of his right leg's power crashing into the back of Sara's reportedly bent legs.

This would bring on another effect: it would be painful enough for all of Daughtry's weight to collide with the girl's own calves with her own body as a tug, but now she was trapped in the middle of both of his legs wanting to direct in opposite directions. Thus, as Allen's right leg crashed into the girl's bending calves, his left leg would be pushing in the opposite direction - from Allen's perspective, it appeared as if the right leg was moving counterclockwise into the girl's legs, and the left leg was following that same pattern into her chest. This would not only lead to the girl being tripped from below but also above, causing her to not only lose her leg support, but she would find her torso crashing backward.

Unless the girl found some miraculous way to escape a position she had taken to grab Daughtry's leg or back flip away with both of his legs curled around her chest and legs respectively, Sara would find herself crashing on her shoulders and upper back into the sand dunes under their feet, and Daughtry's legs still pressing against her chest and legs. He had her trapped.

At the same time, Allen had also landed on his back, though with his legs wrapped around the girl, he found it easy to pull his own chest up. But he wasn't finished; if all of this had succeeded, he would begin what he felt could be the end of the match. Pressing the calf of his left leg higher up on the girl's torso - and pressing into her breasts - and pulling upward and to his left with his right leg against her calves, Allen would work to try and angle her head to slip into the sand dune, temporarily blinding her and perhaps even limiting her oxygen intake due to the makeshift mask. Her head then pressed down against the dune - whether it sunk or not did not matter anymore - Allen would use the strength of his two legs to hold her still as he leaned upward and forward with his chest and angled himself above her right side, before his left elbow down onto her forehead, intent on knocking her out and ending the fight with as little pain as possible. [/font]

[Sara Quinn]

Sara knew, the moment he didn't drop onto his back, that she was fucked. She hadn't taken his momentum into account well enough. His leg continued to move in her arms as she tried to hold it in place, and his uncaught leg crashed into her own legs. The sudden feeling of falling had her muscles freezing, and her mouth opening in shock.

What happened next, happened very quickly, and was actually quite painful. She didn't drop the way she had expected to. Instead, his legs pushed her in opposite directions, and she was pushed to the side. She landed hard on her back because of the position her body had been in. She had twisted her torso in an attempt to make sure she landed this way as well. If she was going down, she wasn't going to land on her side. So the landing hadn't been as hard as she had anticipated, but it still hurt. A lot. And now she was trapped. Shit...

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him sit up. She was so screwed. She wasn't able to think of a single attack that had gone so wrong for her before. This was ridiculous. He wasn't even finished yet. She could see no way out of this at the moment, except to wiggle and squirm, and hopefully make this as difficult for him as possible. His legs on her shifted, pushing against her chest and pulling her legs up. She needed to move quickly. Her head was pressing against the sand behind her. Her legs were pretty much useless at the moment, as they wouldn't do much damage, or help to much so, but her arms? She could work with them.

Her right arm moved upwards, twisting and bending so that her palm pressed up against his leg. Her arm being bent so tightly wouldn't be very strong, but it might be able to do what she needed. At the same time, her right arm slipped from underneath his leg. There was nothing holding it on the other side, thus it was open to slip out and around. She would use this one to protect her face and head from any attack he might have planned. As she pushed up on his leg on her chest with her right arm, she would push against his leg on her calves to give herself strength and momentum, and try to wiggle to her left, shifting herself out from between his legs and away from him. Her left hand opened, to catch the elbow he had sent at her.

[Shifty Eyes]

most interesting read. I thoroughly enjoyed this- probably the best fight of the tourney so far.

Allen wins.

Next round will be posted within 24 hours.