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Fudou Moto     The Spinach Wastes roll on for leagues- an endless expanse of green that stretches out in every direction. But, while the Wastes may go on forever, all that's really, truly important today is one particular section of empty greenery right in the middle of the great wilderness.

    There, a man stands ready, his thumbs hooked around the beltline of his loose, cloth pants. They're tattered from wear and overuse, but it suits him just fine. This is a day for street fighting, after all. There's no need to waste a perfectly good set of clothes.

"Whenever you're ready," he says to the opponent across from him, dropping into a fighting stance. "Give me everything you've got."
Iria     The Spinach Wastes are a unique place to fight definitely. Popeye would love it here. But for Iria, it's just another place to fight in the World Martial Arts Tournament. She's been doing fairly well so far, but she knows her luck can run out at any moment. This is why she's being extra cautious as she approaches her opponent.

    Throwing off her cape to Kei, who is in a nearby spectator's spot, Iria looks to her opponent and cracks her knuckles, smiling a little with an evil hint to it as her eyebrows lower. "I'm hoping for a good fight here, so let's get this on!"
Fudou Moto     "Don't worry. If it's a fight you want..." Fudou grins, his back foot digs into the soft grass. In an explosion of movement, the brawler suddenly rockets forward, his fist driving into a hard right stright! "Then it's a fight you'll get!"

MEANWHILE IN THE STANDS

    A young girl, barely into her teens, cheers brightly into the monitor. "Come on daddy," she yells, "Kick her a--" SHH. A harsh hiss from a woman sitting nearby, "Watch your language, dear."

"R-right," the girl mutters sheepishly. "KICK HER BUTT, DADDY!"
Iria     Iria is obviously a bit caught off-guard by this guy and his sudden punch. He rushes in faster than even Iria can anticipate, and even with her armored bodysuit on, it's still pretty painful. The brunette bounty hunter is hit hard and goes skidding backwards, dropping into a crouch before getting up again, albeit a little out of breath.

    "Pretty clever," Iria says. "You caught me off-guard, but don't think you'll be so lucky next time!" Her smile is gone and instead is replaced by a fierce scowl. "I'm pretty capable of fighting too, so watch out!" Iria leaps into the air, does a somersault, then attempts to deliver a flying kick to Fudou.
Fudou Moto     A flying kick. Fudou takes it on the metaphorical chin, by which we mean that he absorbs it with a literal two-handed block. The Street Fighter's lips curl into a grin as the shock floods up the length of his arms. His muscles tighten like piano wires as his arms push back and away--

Only to grab hold of the bounty hunter's ankle.

    "That was a pretty flashy move," Fudou growls, "But flash only goes so far!" His stance shifts, legs and hips pivoting to one side as he draws the woman out in an arc, almost as if she were some kind of hammer and he was the tosser. That's ridiculous- he'd never toss her like a hammer.

He instead tries to toss her like a sack of potatos-- straight into the ground!
Iria     Iria thinks she's had many throws done to her, and thinks she can take it... until she's actually thrown, and she hits the ground hard. "UNNGH!" She cries out as her body slams into the ground hard. "Dammit," She mutters, feeling the pain going through her body. "I've underestimated this guy big time..."

    Ignoring the pain, Iria forces herself up. "So, you think you're tough? Well, I'm just warming up!" Iria rears her hand back and attempts to deliver a swift punch at Fudou.
Fudou Moto     A fist slams into Fudou's jaw. Iria's wrath makes itself heard as he feels something dislodge underneath her knuckles. Fudou's neck twists in a way that looks altogether unhealthy, popping several vertibrae as it goes.

For a moment, everything is still.

And then there is a flash of red. A wave of heat. Fudou's neck twists back, his eyes finding his opponent's.

One hand grabs hold of her wrist. "Just warming up, huh?" Fudou's voice rumbles, his grip tightening. His other hand curls into a fist. "Good. 'Cause I'm startin' to feel the burn, myself!"

He begins punching. Unless someone says otherwise, he's probably not going to stop.
Iria     This time, Iria's ready for an attack, and she raises her hands to deflect the punches away. Naturally they do sting a little bit, but compared to how hard they could have hit, Iria isn't in as much pain as she could've been.

    "I'm glad you're giving it your all! Just don't overdo it or you'll run out of steam later on!" Iria comments, before attempting to deliver a foot sweep, showing she knows some traditional attacks too.
Fudou Moto     "Don't worry about me," Fudou laghs, motes of red light seem to lift from between his teeth. "I've got steam for DAYS!" Iria cuts off any more speech by sweeping his legs out from underneath him. Fudou hits the ground with a solid thud, his back and shoulders jarring out of place. But he twists into the movement, rolling back to land on his haunches.

    "See," he grunts, "I actually felt that one. Now--" Fudou surges, lunging in with what largely amounts to a supercharged football charge, "Let's keep up the pace!"
Iria     Iria gets hit by the charge and gets knocked backwards. She staggers a little before catching herself. "Wow, where'd you learn THAT?" Iria asks, before shaking her head. "Never mind that! We've got a fight to finish!" She seems to be losing a little steam, but the adrenaline is flowing through her to make up for it. "And I don't intend to lose now, even if you've gotten the upper hand so far."

    "In fact, I took on such an ugly being once that I'll never look at fighting the same way again!" She finishes this with a forward thrust kick aimed at Fudou's stomach.
Fudou Moto "Is that so?"

    Iria launches a kick. By all rights, it was a fine kick indeed. Were she fighting any other man, it would have delivered a great, punishing blow into her opponent's gut, sending him staggering to the ground. Were she fighting any other man, it might have spelt the end of the fight.

Fudou Moto is not like any other man.

    "I don't know what brought that on, but I ain't that thing," he begins, eyes narrowing to slivers, "Nothing personal, I've got mouths to feed. Fighting's like anything else, it's something I gotta do!""

    He watches as she delivers her attack, and the world seems to lapse into slow motion. Everything resolves into grayscale, save for the path his instincts demand that he thread. Fudou dips underneath the kick and lunges, driving his shoulder underneath the woman's leg. One arm seizes her ground-bound ankle, the other takes her by the shoulder and, in one smooth motion, goes to smash her back into the ground!
Iria     Iria finds herself thrown harder than she expects. Unfortunately, this hit really ticks her off. She forces herself back up and scowls big time. "You wanna hit hard? Fine!" She attempts to hook her arms around Fudou and deliver a standard fisherman's suplex. "HIYAAAAAH!" She yells out, though it's more out of anger than a real martial arts cry.
Fudou Moto SUPLEX!!

    Fudou smashes into the ground. Iria might be able to make out the distinct sound of bones being popped out of position. Fudou remains in the ground for a long moment, before somehow, despite being shoved out of their sockets, his hands take firm hold of the ground. Wisps of angry, red light drift from his tensing muscles. Legs wrap back around, reaching to try and seize hold of Iria's shoulders.

All the muscles in his chest and abdomen tense in rapid sequence. Using his center of mass as a fulcrum, Fudou attempts to hurl Iria in what can only be described as an INVERTED SUPLEX!
Iria     Iria feels like something's been broken, and knows that she's in over her head. Still, she doesn't want to give her opponent an easy victory. She struggles to get up, but the pain in her body makes her want to resist. With a yell, she forces herself back up and says, "You're nothing compared to Zeiram! You don't know what that is, you're better off not knowing." She attempts to drag herself towards Fudou and administer a unique type of throw, where she grabs him from behind and then drops down to the ground, landing on her rear while bringing him to the ground.
Fudou Moto THUD. Again, Fudou finds his face in far-too-intimate contact with the ground. Again, he feels something pop in his skeletal structure, this time somewhat further down. Again, that strange, crimson force bleeds from his arms and legs and from each and every rippling, tense muscle.

His voice comes as a low, ominous growl.

    "I," he intones, eyes flashing red. Fudou grips the earth. His body bends back, legs finding purchase on solid ground once more. "Don't even know who you're talking about. But--" His arms, free of their task, reach out to grab hold of the back of the Bounty Hunter's skull. "--If you let it shackle you... If you let it become the metric with which you judge every fighter you meet...!"

"YOU'LL NEVER GROW TO SURPASS IT!" With a thunderous roar, his voice hits a crescendo. Fudou twists, looking to drive Iria face-first into the earth!
Iria     Faceful of dirt? Been there, done it.

    Having it now? Not fun. Especially when it hits Iria harder than she wants it to. She lands flat on her stomach and groans. Looking up she gives a quick thumbs up before falling facefirst into the dirt again. As the official announces Fudou the winner, Iria is attended to by medical attendants, accompanied by Kei who puts Iria's cape atop her like a blanket. Iria would thank Kei, but she's out cold right now...
Fudou Moto MEANWHILE OUT IN THE STANDS

    A young girl bounds into the air like some kind of hyperactive, overjoyed jackrabbit. "He won!" She cheers, "He won, he won! I knew he'd do it!"

    "Yes, dear," the woman sitting next to her sighs, though she can't quite fight her smile, either. "I'm glad he won, too." Though she also can't shake the feeling that Misae is getting perhaps just a little bit too... enthusiastic about this sort of thing.