2894/WMAT BQ2 Cowboy Courier vs Ezreal

WMAT BQ2 Cowboy Courier vs Ezreal
Date of Scene:	24 August 2015
Location:	Papaya Island - Stadium
Synopsis:	The Courier and Ezreal slug it out in Round Two action of the B-Series Qualifiers, and Johnny hires himself an adventurer.
Cast of Characters:	32, 659

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Courier Six (32) has posed:
    The thing about the main arena at Papaya Island, is that once the tournament is in swing, it gets very busy. The crowds from the last match start to cycle, vendors restock their supplies and people start to move in for the next spectacle. And this one does promise to be quite the show.

    You've got an off worlder famous for his prowess in 'bloodsport' or whatever term you'd use to describe the League of Legends.
    And you've got a former champion and the representative of one of the primary sponsors for the whole event.

    The arena is cleared, the scene is set, people file in, and Jonathan Tallbranch makes his way up and into the ring, moving sorta slow today. Sure, he's been all patched up after last night's fiasco, but he's starting to feel his age these days. All these damn kids running around. Oh well.

    He stands out there in his pristine looking Riot Gear armor, the duster sweeping a bit in the breeze as he swigs water from a Vault 13 branded canteen. Up in the stands, there's a large contingent of the New Vegas crowd, and some notable dignitaries from the NCR. There's word the president is even up in the stands.

    The Cowboy Courier grumps and stares at it all. Ain't this a sight.

Ezreal (659) has posed:
    Ezreal is not shy around crowds. In fact, the Hotshot thrives on a good crowd watching him fight. Of course, his last match had ended in disappointment. Fiora had handed him his behind quite soundly despite his best efforts, and now he was going against the defending champ? One might think he's gonna be nervous. Or afraid he might lose.

    This one would be dead wrong.

    Ezreal blinks into the arena, rubbing his nose with his non-gauntleted hand as he smirks over at the Courier. "Hey there Grumpy. Ready for a magical beatdown?" he asks, raising his gauntlet into an attack position. "You're a former champ, right? Then taking you out will surely get the donations rolling in!" His medallion glints a bit as he channels his magical prowess, but he doesn't open fire.

    "What's with the getup?" he asks after a moment. Sure, talk to someone about clothes, Ez. Good start.

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    More kids. Well, that's the way of things, ain't it?

    Johnny snorts and salutes. "Well, magical for certain with you. Not so sure about the beatdown yet. And I am a former champ. Got beat last year by Miss Satsuki." He chuckles, and picks up the helmet from the arena floor, tucking the Flask away in... wherever his stuff goes when it leaves his hands. Fancy ass Pip Boys.

    "And the getup is to make sure I don't get killed. Lady Luck my smile on me, but that don't mean I can't give her a helpin' hand."

    He seals the helmet on his head, the visors lenses click on, and the speaker on the gas mask crackles. "You ready to dance, kiddo?"

Ezreal (659) has posed:
    Ezreal smirks as Johnny armors up, crossing his arms across his chest. "Tank, huh? Bad news for you. Tankbusting is like... half of what I do," he says, chuckling a bit. He raises his gauntlet, giving the universal gesture.

    Bring it.

    "Hey, I won't kill you. Just leave you... ya know... beaten and broken on the ground. You'll be fiiiine."

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    "Funny, lots of people say that to me." The speaker crackles. "And so far the only ones to beat me have been those who figured out how to be humble about shit. I ain't here to do that. I'm here representin' my people."

    He stretches his arms wide, and calls out, the words pickin' up on the speakers overhead. "You folks ready for a show?" There is a thunderous response of cheers from the audience, and the Cowboy Courier bows a bit. "Let's dance, kiddo."

    The first dance step is apparently to flick a pair of 10mm pistols into his hands, the heavy handguns clicking and mag dumping at the Explorer as that implacable gas mask huffs slowly.

Ezreal (659) has posed:
    Ezreal is built for two things. Speed and accuracy. However, even he can't outrun bullets. As the slugs rip into his arms and shoulders, he jukes and moves but cries out regardless as blood blossoms from the wounds. He blinks out of the path of Johnny's shots, repositioning a bit closer and off to the Courier's right. Raising his gauntleted fist, he throws a punch at... the air?

    A burst of pure magic energy rockets from the gauntlet, followed by a quick flurry of smaller shots. "Guns... why is it always guns? Seriously, between you and Jinx I'm starting to get tired of those things!" He shifts his stance, falling back into a more defensive posture. "That's fine, though. We're just getting started! By the time we're done, this crowd will be cheering a different cheer altogether!"

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    The courier snorts as he listens to the complaints about bullets, but takes the magical wave of force straight against the chest, the armor scorching from the hit. One of those lenses dim- wait did he just wink??? "Look at it this way kid. Either way I got a job for you after this. I did some research on you before the fight." IS HE MAKING A JOB OFFER IN A MATCH?

    Wheeling and dealing, even while trying to kick the crap out of someone. Johnny drops the pistols to the ground, and pulls out something more Ezreal's speed. It's a heavy ass laser pistol, blocky and grey. He chuckles, and starts dropping shots at the explorer, attempting to gaugue his speed and movements, at least. "COME ON KID, show me what you got!"

Ezreal (659) has posed:
    Ezreal narrows his eyes, watching as the magic merely scorches the armor. He shakes his head, closing his gauntleted fist for a moment before the words register. "Wh... a job?" he asks, before he is assailed by lasers. His body rolls with the shots, more wounds blooming across his form and staining his clothes. He grunts, before he breaks into a sprint. Straight toward Johnny.

    "What sort of job could you possibly need me for? Need something explored and mapped?" he asks, lunging into the air. He looks like he's going to punch the Courier straight in the mask.

    And then he blinks behind him instead, rounding on his opponent and attempting to send a bolt straight into the small of the former champ's back. "If I can't match your arsenal, I'll just have to evade you and win the war of attrition."

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    He'd been told to expect the phase shifting but wasn't expecting to see it this early. How does he sustain the teleportation? H-

    BLINDED BY SCIENCE, the Courier eats the shot in the back and staggers forward, a hip lurching from the force of the blow. He grumps and sags his shoulders. "Somethin' like THAT." There's a staff in the man's hands now as he wheels in place, the heavy mechincal rod coming around to try and sweep up Ezreal off his feet and onto the stone pavement.

Ezreal (659) has posed:
    CLANG.

    There's a vibration in Ezreal's arm as he reaches out and grabs the staff, blocking the attack but numbing his arm. His grip releases and shakes his hand out, jumping back a bit from Johnny as he smirks. "Well, that's a nifty trick. How'd you change out weapons like that?" He moves back in, and this time there doesn't seem to be any sort of funny business. He draws his fist back, then rockets it toward the Courier's face. He might notice, before impact should it land, that the fist is glowing with power!

    "Hmm... sure, I need some extra credits, and you'll find no better explorer than me. So, whatcha need?"

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    CLANG. That punch rings more than a few bells, the Courier's HUD filled helmet going dark for a second or so before it reboots but... Now Ez is right up in his face, and Johnny's chuckle is audible inside the helmet, even without the speakers. "Need somethin' found. Not sayin' what it is here."

    That staff shifts thorugh, an end unfolding and... a sickly, awful purple-ultraviolet energy blade springs to life and the Coureir yanks the staff back towards his body, aiming to trap the Explorer in his grip.

    Then he simply TWISTS, trying to wrench poor Ezreal in directions a spine and arms aren't supposed to go.

Ezreal (659) has posed:
    Ezreal grimaces. That was always the risk inherent in getting close when you're a fighter of Ezreal's style. And now he's trapped by the stronger fighter. He squirms and wriggles in Johnny's grip, before he starts hearing popping and cracking. He cries out, his body not built for taking such punishment. He screams, but begins channeling a lot of magical energy into his hand. There's a brilliant glow, slowly growing brighter and more persistent before...

    "RRRAGH!"

    There's a sound not unlike a bomb as Ezreal lets the magic explode, hoping to force the Courier to release him and let him blink to a safer distance!

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    Popping and creaking is a good noise for Johnny, even if it's not so much for Ez. A growling chuckle from Johnny, as the axe casts a sickly blacklight glow on the pair. "Gotta be careful gettin' in close there, champ, I-"

    He feels the energy build up, and is totally expectiong more of that fancy ass short range teleporting shit. He's got to get his hands on that stuff.

    The point blank arcane power bomb is not what he's expecting, and he staggers back as it goes off, bits of him falling out of formation as he growls. There's the audible hissss of stimpacks under that armor, as the Cowboy snorts and chuckles. "Not bad, not bad. You're doin' pretty good." He chuckles, slaps the end of the axe-staff against the ground, and then moves in, heavy directed swings aiming for the explorer, trying to tag him with that hateful energy weapon.

Ezreal (659) has posed:
    Courier would feel the axe hit... something, ever so briefly, before there's a flash of arcane energy and Ezreal is no longer there. The boy lands in a heap a good distance away, panting a bit as he works the kinks out of his muscles. The attack before had taken a toll on him, for sure, but the axe swing only brings a line of blood across his jacket.

    He straightens up, smirking and rolling his shoulders. "Not bad yourself there, guy," he says, "No wonder you're a champion around here! But I'm not quite ready to call it quits yet." He raises his gauntleted hand, aiming the palm straight at the Cowboy Courier. There's a surge of power there, before a series of golden motes begin to spiral out, rocketing toward Ezreal's target with alarming speed. "Take this!"

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    Another wave of energy and another staggering stutter step from Johnny as he growls through the pain, the penetrating energy lashing through his armor now. This was different juju than those usual blasts. He's revving up the engines, so to speak.

    The axe lowers a bit, and Johnny's free hand dips into the duster again, coming up with a nasty looking ray gun of some sort, all green and orange with sickly flouresence dripping from a three pronged tip. "You ain't the only one with that crap, kid." He grunts, and rattles off a stacatto series of energy blasts, trying to pepper the Explorer's direct range.

Ezreal (659) has posed:
    Ezreal is totally ready to evade a followup from the axe. It's all planned out in his head, even! And then he is suddenly bleeding from his everything, crying out in surprised agony as the rays lance him. He remains standing, to his credit, but it's clear... he's shaken up and more importantly hurt. "G... gah!" he growls, "Damnit... the hell?! Fine... alright! I've got something for ya!"

    He doesn't blink this time, instead opting to start... punching the air? Is he celebrating?! No, energy is pulsing from his fist, flying into the sky above. One pulse is ten, then thirty, then more, arm moving like a piston until he finally tires himself out. "Take... this!"

    There's nothing. Maybe an ironic tumbleweed at this moment. Ezreal seems confident, though, keeping his eyes fixed on the Courier.

    And then the sky opens up, and blasts, all number and all sizes, begin to rain down on Johnny from the heavens. Like some sort of orbital magical bombardment.

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    Johnny just watches the punchshow with bemusement, as he shakes his head a-

    The energy buildup catches the periphery of his attention moments before it hits and there's nothing left for him to do but to simply eat all of it.

    The axe is dropped to the ground in order to keep it from MELTING from this obsecene laser spam, the danmaku evaporating wid swathes of the platform underneath him as is the wont of the landscape in this mangificent place.

    The dust clear, the smoke clears and Johnny Tallbranch is moving. His armor is scorched, he's yanked off the smouldering slag that used to be his helmet, there's a fire in those eyes, and he's breathing deep. "COME ON AND DANCE LIKE YOU MEAN IT." The axe is gone, and in its place are a pair of revolvers, gleaming in the dying light of the laser show. He twirls and spins them on his fingers, and...

    That Pip-Boy Flashes, and Johnny's motionsare suddenly extremely choreographed, as the MATH and SCIENCE in that device finely tunes his strikes, aiming to place shots in places that will disable and disorent the Explorer as much as possible.

    This is not a killing day, and Johnny is not about to paint the arena with Ezreal's blood.

Ezreal (659) has posed:
    Ezreal smirks as his attack hits home, but is immediately under assault again. His leg buckles under him before he can predict what's happening, his body blanking out the pain for a brief moment as it processes. And then the attack continues, slamming into his shoulder, his chest, elbows, and by the time the final shot rings out the explorer is on his knees in a pool of his own blood. However, there's still fire in those blue eyes of his, and against all odds he pushes back to his feet, staggering as his ungauntleted hand hangs dead to his side. "Damnit... not bad... but... I've still got... something left!"

    He raises his hand, and a shimmering blue bow of arcane energy blooms from his fist, stretching at least ten feet in both directions. Normally he would mime drawing back, but the Courier has took that from him. So instead, he just smirks and points at his target. "Trueshot Barrage!"

    A golden crescent bursts into life, composed of many, MANY golden motes of energy that rockets across the arena. "Take... my ultimate technique!"

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    Johnny is already breathing hard from the beating he's taken, and uses VATS pretty much wipes the guy when it comes to that bullshit pounding thorugh his electrotyles with all the direct muscle controls and-

    The Barrage simply shoots right through him disrupting muscles, disabling his cybernetic bits, beating his insides into proverbial jelly and... he staggers, the Riot Gear smoking, body hot steam coming out of the holes in the suit and from the collar, and Johnny staggers. But he too is not finished yet. A shuffling gowling huff of breath, and he shuffles forward, smiles, and punches Ezreal right in the goddamn face.

Ezreal (659) has posed:
    Ezreal lowers his fist, all of the magical energy he's used catching up to him in one swift moment. His legs shake, but he remains standing. He has to, because there's no way two people could withstand the Trueshot in one tournament, right?

    Right?

    Johnny is marching forward, and Ezreal shakes his head, a small grin spreading across his face. "Y... Damnit all..." His legs are about to give way, but he remains on his feet long enough to take the final shot of the match. The fist slams right into Ezreal's face, no attempt made to even guard himself. The Explorer crumples into a heap on the ground, and does not get up again.

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    But Mr. Tallbranch is not like that. He grumps and lifts his hands in triumph... trumpeting applause ringing out in the arena.

    And then he fishes around in his coat, finds one last stimpack in his inventory, and slaps the healing needle into the meat of Ezreal's arm. "Get up kid, this is no time to be sleeping."

Ezreal (659) has posed:
    The surge of energy brings Ezreal back to the waking world, pushing back to his feet. His body feels like lead, but he keeps his eyes downturned. "This is... frustrating..." he says, "Two people have survived my Trueshot in this tournament... That's unheard of. I... I'm ashamed..."

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    Johnny's face brightens as he waves to the crowd. His voice is low. "Oy. You're still out in the public. Give em a show." He smiles and lifts his hand, and then Ezreal's hand, his voice raising. "GIVE HIM A HAND EVERYONE! HE DID GREAT!"

    The cheering intensifies, though some of the crowd is starting to file out as the next fights start to get started elsewhere.

    Johnny claps a hand on Ez's shoulder and mmmmms. Serious words despite the smile on his face, and the cheery tone. "Limits are there to be busted, kiddo. Don't look down on this. Just know that you're better than this and get better. Ain't nothin' to be ashamed of. You're fighting the best in the Multiverse."

    He gets out of cheer-gathering mode, and turns back to the young explorer. "Tell you what. The job offer still stands and in fact, I insist now. You find me next week. i got shit that needs doin' in the Mojave and I need someone that knows how to get into places to do it."
    He holds out his hand for a handshake. "Now cheer up, Ezreal of Piltover. Everyone loves a good sport and you're one ofthe best I've had this tournament."

Ezreal (659) has posed:
    Ezreal smirks sidelong. Johnny sure knows how to kowtow to a crowd, and they're just eating it up. He waves toward them, rolling his shoulders a bit as he smiles a bit more. "Maybe, but... it's still not enough, you know? In the League, I'm a champ. Here? I feel like a chump," he says in a low tone. He waves to the crowd, trying to keep a bright facade. At the Courier's words, though, the gesture seems to turn from forced to genuine. "Yeah... I guess I just gotta keep working. Damnit... I hate working on magic. Which brings me to another topic..."

    He smirks. "This job. If I complete it, I don't want money. I want tech. Can you oblige there, or is that asking too much?"

Courier Six (32) has posed:
    "Kid, you'll be be workin' with some of the best tech prospectors I've ever met, and that's sayin' something. If I got tech that'll compliment yer stuff, it's yours after we're done."
    The Sixth Courier grins a bit, more, claps Ezreal on the shoulder, and walks the kid off the arena towards the medics.