ArchivedLogs:Zach vs Bounce

Zach vs Bounce
Dramatis Personae Zach
In Absentia	2013-05-21 (Part of Thunderdome.)
Location Thunderdome
It's a warehouse, or something like it; at least it's spacious, and was probably once industrial; at the moment it's largely just empty. There are tracks in the floor from long-since disused equipment and the construction of walls and high exposed-beam ceilings is sturdy. The center of the room has been excavated, since this place was in actual daily use. In the middle a pit has been gashed out of the concrete; it's not /deep/ and it serves more as a foundation than anything else; around its wide circular perimeter a cage has been erected. Nearly reaching up to ceiling-height, it is constructed of thick sturdy metal bars wrapped in a thinner wire mesh. Surrounding the cage there is a lot of empty space. Some nights, though, when fights are in session, the room is filled; with people, with cameras (though no outsiders' cameras are allowed in), with paper betting slips and folding chairs. The spotlights in the ceiling are bright-bright-bright, the better to illuminate the fighters within the centerpiece cage. YET ANOTHER FIGHT NIGHT. The crowd is rearing, eager for blood; Zach is lead forward - mostly by shocks, the guards having learned about his ability /pretty/ early on - toward the cage. Only an occasional rough shove with a baton prompts him toward the entrance. As the crowd begins to rise into a fevered chant - 'BOUNCE, BOUNCE, BOUNCE, BOUNCE' -- Zach's opponent arrives. A crowd favorite, apparently. He is... a somewhat heavy-weight looking man in his 20s; short, bald, and /dark grey/. His skin has a glossy /sheen/ to it, as if it were coated in a layer of latex - the hair on his head is wispy and forms a loose, thin horse-shoe. He's clad in nothing more than a pair of loose-fitting black sweatpants - his notably large belly plopping over it, hanging just a /bit/. He also looks... remarkably /bored/ at everything in front of him. "Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, it's your favorite REBOUND... the BOUNCE! Against... SPEEEEEEEEEEEEED-DEEEEEEEMOOOOON!" Yeah, they... /really/ gotta work on those names. Having had the chance to heal and recover, Zach is dressed in what he had left from the night he was captured. His white tank top is bloodied and slightly scorched, and his black jeans have a few holes in them from dragging. Still, even with the burn marks around his neck from the collars tender ministrations, he looks like a scrapper. Loosening up, his tattooed arms pop in the shoulders, middle fingers flashing towards the crowds jeering and calling insults. "I prefer speed freak myself," he murmers under his breath as he hocks and spits out onto the ground of the make shift arena. "Hey rubber ball. They able to shock you, or you just look like a tire?" He had heard what he was supposed to be doing in here, but that didn't mean he had interest in it. 'Bounce' snorts. And proceeds to clasp his hands together and stretch them out in front of him - popping his knuckles. Except, they don't pop so much as /bend/ forward in a way that... should really be breaking his fingers, honestly. But there his fingers go... not breaking. "Gonna make this quick," Bounce announces, before - /charging/ - straight for Zach. With every step, he seems to be hopping a little off the ground, as if his foot-falls were sending him sproinging into the air - arms sweeping open wide to try and catch Zach and just - /hammer/ him into the farthest wall! The crowd starts whooping; some of the audience laughs and jeers. "GET 'IM!" - "OH MAN this freak's un-fuckin'-real he's a fuckin' bouncy-ball" -- so on. "Heh, you just said the magic words," Zach grins at the fat man as he starts to propel forward. The young man's stance alters slightly, one foot held back for balance and his right leg cocked as if to kick. "Ever played kickball as a kid? Get ready to meet the home run kid," he calls mockingly to the man as he waits achingly till the big rubber blob is about to land on him. And... theres just a slight oddity in everyone's vision for a moment as physics cease to function. Where gravity is pulling Bounce downwards, he's suddenly floating mid air, as the tattoo'd punk rockets skyward towards the man boot first. "Bitch I'm gonn--NNGHTHEFUC--" Ka-WHUMP. Bounce is suddenly airborn; more importantly, he's suddenly getting the /boot/. Right in his upper torso - his eyes bulge open, popping like firecrackers as he /reels/ backward in force - and makes a loose /spra-BOING/ sound. The force of Zach's kick seems to ripple through his entire torso as he just /flings/ backward, bouncing off of Zach's foot - right back toward the opposite end of the cage. And when he hits /that/ set of bars... SPRA-BOOING! Scarcely a bit of energy is lost; the kinetic force of Zach's kick is transferred effortlessly into momentum -- and when it hits the wall, the impact is /reversed/ by the impulse force, sent flinging right /back/ at Zach. A little less controlled, now, though. "Oh this isn't going to go well at all," Zach says with his attention locked on the rubber ball man. Nothing else is close to moving as fast as the richochetting mutant, and he needs some ammunition if he's going to have a chance to compensate. Running for the cage bars, he siphon's a bit of the speed off the bouncey ball as he dives out of the incoming smash, slamming into the bars a bit harder than he had hoped for. "Hey you pussies! What you doing out there? Bet you can't even hit a caged freak ey!" He taunts the crowd hoping someone will throw /Something/ into range he can use for an advantage. WHUNK. Bounce's arms and legs curl into himself all at once, tensing up into a tight, floppy ball as he SLAMS into the ground - the energy Zach bleeds off of him slows him down, but as he hits the ground he richochets again - SPRIOING - and proceeds to reel up toward the cage wall - SPROING - and then fly back up to the ceiling - SPROING - and then /gravity/ is pulling him back down to the ground again and - SPROING - he's bouncing /everywhere/, zig-zagging wildly through the cage like some sort of - well, rubber crazy-ball. The crowd is, indeed, hooting and hollering - people are laughing, screaming, someone's yelling for 'Bounce' to just hammer this weird - telekinetic? freak. If Zach's looking for someone to throw something, though... well - someone /is/ throwing their beer cup down in disgust, having just spilled it. Fucking shitty ten dollar /beer/, fuck you BEER-CUP. Murmering disparaging remarks under his breath in annoyance, Zach's gaze keeps going towards the rubber ball of doom. "Bet you're too dumb to even get a concussion from that." Grabbing hold of the mess of the cage, he climbs up about a few feet, and making halting odd gestures, he tugs the cup towards him with each jerky motion. "Stupid shitty cage, stupid shitty perimeter." Sparing the bouncing ball a glance as the incoming trajectory is about to squish him, he drops to the ground, causing the cup to roll just the tad bit closer. "Hope you like shitty beer," he calls above him as he falls. And with both targets in range, he exchanges their momentum as the red solo cup of doom flies towards the temporarily halted ball man. Suddenly - /forcefully/ - stopping in mid-air makes Bounce /snap/ back with confusion, eyes rolling back into his head as a wave of nausea overcomes him; his legs and arms briefly untuck as he seems to just - hover there a moment - before descending, with the force of gravity, toward the ground. Not, however, before a plastic cup *SLAMS* into his head. Of course, even booking it at 30 miles per hour, a plastic cup... is still a plastic cup. Might as well be a nerf dart. Still, Bounce hits the ground beneath him - and - /sproing/, he's hopping up a good five feet, arms and legs flailing as he arcs back and away from Zach - /sproing/, a good three feet - /sproing/, hitting the ground with a whump, face first - *THWUMP*. Proceeding to stumble and shove and curse as he tries to get himself up on his knees. Having chosen his waiting spot poorly, Zach gets knocked aside fairly violently, skidding across the concrete flooring on the fall, shitty beer splattered on him from his own impacting projectile. "Hey watch your lard ass there." Groaning he scrambles back to his feet, watching the bouncing fellow hit the ground face first and he winces. "Oh, thats going to leave a mark." He takes his eyes away from the man on his knees a moment, looking for any of the handlers. "No hard feelings Bounce, but I don't want to get my ass tasered again." And with those words he propells himself forward trying to tackle the kneeling foe. "Nnghff--" WHUMP. Bounce is hit, full-on, by the tackle-rushing Zach. Now they're both rebounding toward the ground - all that force transferred so crisply, so cleanly, into momentum - straight to concrete. Bounce hits first; there is another SPROING, and now they're both bouncing up, a good five feet in the air, tumbling over one another - Bounce is /trying/ to get Zach beneath them, but as they descend, it's clear he's not good at - wriggling and /wrestling/ with his opponents - so when they hit the ground /again/, it's Bounce beneath Zach - SPROING, back up, three feet... "Uunghf--" "Gah!" Zach cries out as he gets shunted with the rubber man. "Get offa me!" Thud whump oof. "I don't" crash whack "like this!" Pushing at the grabby fellow, he tries to pull his knees up in between him and the rubber man. "I said let go!" He yells out as he takes all the energy the two were getting from the bounce into himself to try and fling himself free, not even caring where he goes. FWOOM. Off Zach goes; 'Bounce' hits the ground again - this time like a dead lump - and just, /rolls/ backward. Grunting. Gasping. Whumping roughly against the back of the bars as he wheezes, his greyish skin now -- blotched with what look like /multiple/ soon-to-be serious bruises. With a struggling jerk, he tries to cling to one of the bars overhead, trying to pull himself to his feet... it's clear he's having serious problems at this juncture, though. The crowd is /cheering/; people screaming excitedly in a rush of thunderous noise. Basically, it's like watching a demented pin-ball machine playing against /itself/; by the looks of it, though, Bounce doesn't have much Bounce left in him. Landing and sliding a few feet away, Zach shakes his head trying to clear it. "Ughhh, this is worse than a car crash." Planting his hands against the concrete he pushes himself up, tongue darting to test his split lip and finding it open again. "Just stay down. I don't think either of us have many brains left to scramble here." Wobbling to his feet, he does try to make his way over towards the other man, remembering the part about being tased for Not Fighting. "Nerrrgh," Bounce wheezes, just /flailing/ an arm at Zach, whoozy and a little - ah - /incoherent/. "Fuckin'..." He's starting to get to his feet, again. /Very/ slowly. But by the bruising patterns on his temple - and the way he's swaying - it's clear the man might have a concussion. Before he manages to stand, he slips, and - WHUMP - yeah, he's probably not getting up onto his feet any time soon. The crowd actually seems a bit let down by this; there are people yelling for Bounce to get the /fuck/ up. Someone /does/ throw a cup of beer into the cage, now - half-full. More people booing. Apparently, Bounce was a favorite to win; probably a lot of people put good money down on him. Flopping down to put a knee on the bigger fellow, unsure if he's supposed to be pinning him or not, Zach looks to the crowds. "You assholes think you're so hot why don't you come in this ring? Who wants to be the big man now ya asshats!" he calls out into the booing crowd. Feeling somewhat exhausted, his eyes still do track over the crowd as things get flung towards him. "Or do you gotta keep metal bars and a shock collar between you and me because you're afraid!" He tenses up a bit, figuring that a shock would be coming shortly at that, but he did keep perched on the rubber man hoping to ground it some. ZZZZAP. Shock /does/ come. And it /does/ go a bit through Bounce, who just - kind of rolls his eyes back, jaw slackening. Apparently he isn't /really/ rubber, because otherwise, he probably wouldn't be very -- shockable. But now he's just kind of flopping down on the ground - WHUMP - like a dead weight, jaw a little slack, tongue a little lulling. And the crowd continues to issue their boos and throw their beer and sling their insults, even as the cage doors open - men with batons and electric shocks coming for Zach should he deign to resist his RETURN TO THE CAGE. Zach twitches with the zapping, falling over beside the fellow he got shocked. "Ow... sorry man." The now familiar motion of climbing up from his knees comes once more from the tattooed young man. "Oh there you guys were. No no, I'm fine going back to my room." His steps are still wobbly and somewhat halting, hands up above his head to try and be less threatening. "Just send the champagne and the girls, all will be just fine." He walks with his head held high though, the weariness and fear being held back by a calm mask just a little, not wanting them to see the pain he is in.