Tru Gritâs Fight Pit (Pt. 2)- A Tru Beatdown
âNah.â Tru cracked his neck before punching his hand as music began to fill the air. âYou get a shot at the champ.â
(Of courseâ¦) He sighed, slowly putting some distance between them as he reached into his pack and pulled out his axe.
Something that only made Truâs smirk grow, before the older man made a âcome get meâ motion with his hand.
He glared for a moment, before deciding that he was not in fact stupid enough to simply rush the guy. So instead, he tossed his axe to the side and drew his bow and a couple arrows out of his pack. (Heâs clearly a fist fighter, keeping my distance and out of arm's reach is probably for the best.)
Tru merely raised a brow before shaking his head. âCanât really recall someone pulling a bow on me in a fight, you sure this is a smart idea.â
He quickly shot an arrow at the other man, only to watch it be swatted out of the air. An act that was repeated with the next three arrows he fired regardless of where or how quickly he shot them.
âWell, if you want to start things off with a shooting contest, I should warn you against bringing a bow to a gunfight.â Tru warned him, while flexing to show off his biceps.
Not bothering to respond, he reached to pull out another arrow. More specifically one of the trick arrows that he was pretty sure would catch Tru off guard after the flurry of mundane arrows.
Or that was the plan before Tru took a boxing stance and punched the air. At which point the air punched Jon with enough force to send him skidding back a few inches.
He blinked before looking at Tru, who gave him a wink before pulling his other arm back.
Realizing what was about to happen he tossed his bow and the arrows to the side before ducking and running in the opposite direction as Tru began shadow boxing with the air. Each strike sending out a wave of force that Jon could feel tugging on the air as he just barely managed to stay ahead of the blast zone.
(Heâs leading his shots just enough to keep me boxed in, and punching too fast for me to double back and make him miss.) He grimaced, realizing the older man was either playing with him or keeping him corralled. (Neither of which is a good optionâ¦)
Carefully he skirted around the arenaâs edge, glad that Tru had moved near the ringâs center rather than sticking near a wall to cut off his movement range. Once on the opposite side of where he started he flexed his wrist, recalling his axe into hand and hopefully cutting Tru down from behind.
Truâs eyes narrowed before kicking off the ground and jumping over the incoming axe. And as if that wasnât bad enough the older fighter still managed to fire off a quick one-two in the air, neither of which he could avoid having stopped his sprint to make sure Tru was in the axeâs path.
Of the two blows the first one wasnât too bad, as he somehow deflected some of the force off of the axe that he just barely managed to keep a grip on. The second angled blast however was enough to tip his balance and force him to stumble backwards into the wall of the arena.
âTelegraphed that a little too hard. Shouldâve just kept moving.â Tru told him as he landed. âNow, you done playing around? Because we both know youâre really a melee fighter.â
He couldnât help but frown at the older man, because while Jon was more skilled in a melee in reality he preferred stealth, traps, and deception when against something he knew could break him with one hand. (And given how heâs twice my size, Iâm pretty sure he could do just that.)
Which is why he instead used the light ring Miss Edna had given him to begin drawing a spell circuit in the air, figuring that if he couldnât wear Tru down with arrows or molotovs he could hopefully burn through his defenses with a small -relatively- giga-zap.
âYou know, drawing spell scripts mid-fight ainât exactly a smart idea, kid.â Tru chuckled, appearing in front of him with an inhuman level of speed before punching straight through his spell circuit and slamming him back into the wall of the arena where he was forced to raise his arms to block as Tru began laying into him. âYou see, this little mess is why most Practitioners make their scripts before the fight. After all, everyone knows not to let the magic users cast their spells whether they know magic or not.â
Unable to do much beyond blocking the incoming blows, he eventually decided to risk dropping to the ground letting Truâs fist slam into the wall above him before using the wall behind him to leverage himself into tackling Truâs leg. An act that forced the man to stumble backwards a step, though it did little beyond that given how Tru grabbed him by the back of his shirt and threw him across the arena.
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He hit the ground in a roll as he skid his feet on the surprisingly loose ground and managed to right himself so that he was once more facing Tru.
âLook, Iâm going to tell you now that most of your tricks ainât going to work on me kid.â Tru warned him with a half glare. âNow quit wasting our time and actually fight me! Or leave, I ainât into bullying kids!â
He growled even as he felt the cool warmth of Pixâs magic washing over him and dealing with whatever bruises and fractures Tru Gritâs little beating wouldâve left him with. Once it began to recede he drew his knife before rushing forward to fight the older man in the hopes of making him regret his demand.
âFinally.â Tru groaned his voice inaudible over the music and only understood because Jon read his lips.
When closer to Tru he flexed his wrist, summoning the axe from where heâd dropped it during Truâs pummeling and causing it to clip Truâs side before catching it by the handle and using the momentum from its recall to deliver a slamming strike into the man. A strike Tru somehow managed to block the blade of with his bare forearm even as he pulled his other arm back.
Seeing what was coming Jon released his grip on the axe and ducked under Truâs counter punch before futilely attempting to stab his knife into the manâs side. With a growl he drew his arm back before using his elbow to try and hammer the pointed blade through whatever defense the fighter was using.
Unfortunately, he was only able to hammer it once before being forced to jump back to avoid Truâs own elbow strike. One that was extended by a blade of air that cut through the ground as Tru lashed out with his hand.
Rushing back in, he slammed his fist into Truâs solar plexus. Hoping that if he couldnât pierce through whatever defense the man had going with a blade then delivering a blunt strike to weak point would manage to do something. And if not then more than one blow to the same weak point.
The fact that even through his gloves it felt like he was hitting a brick wall did not feel him with confidence.
âYou see, this is why I donât skip core day.â Tru told him, not even flinching under the assault before grabbing him by his throat and slamming him into the ground. âThough to be fair, I donât skip any day.â
Seeing Tru pull his fist back, -and knowing that if he took that to the face it would knock him out Pixâs healing or not- he raised his hand to the side of Truâs neck and recalled his axe to it forcing Tru to instinctively lean back to avoid taking a blade to his throat.
With the axe in his hand he used the shaft of the weapon alongside Truâs arm and weakened stance to break the manâs grip on his neck before lashing out in a strike meant more to buy him the space to get up than do any real damage.
Sitting up he brought his blade up in an upward strike between the manâs legs.
âWoah there!â Tru called hopping back and giving him the time to roll back onto his feet. âSee you donât mind fighting dirty there kid.â
âFighting fair⦠is for chumpsâ¦â He coughed out as Pixâs healing wrapped around his bruising neck.
âEh, I wouldnât call them chumps.â Tru argued half-heartedly. âMore⦠naive probably. Theyâre like the assholes who think bringing a knife to a fist fight âll up their odds of winning. Speaking of, you dropped this.â
He glanced down as Tru kicked his knife back to him before glaring at the smirking fighter.
âSo ready for round two?â The man asked, entering a boxing stance. âBe glad Iâm not counting that playing around from the start as your first strike.â
(Right, heâs a brawler⦠He can probably keep this up all day unless I get a finisher in.) He grimaced, knowing that while he could keep this up until Pixâs healing ran out, he wouldnât last long beyond that given the strength of the blows heâd already taken. (Need to wear him down if I want an opening to actually take him out.)
Keeping his eyes on Tru he made to crouch down and pick up his knife, when in reality he was entering a runnerâs stance to rush the man. Knowing that the only blows heâd managed to get were because of recalling his weapons into his hands for cheap or suprise shots.
As soon as he touched the knife he shot forward -leaving it on the ground- and ran at Tru, before ducking under the manâs first blow and skidding around him to try for a couple jabs at his kidneys. (Which somehow is still like punching a brick wall!)
He leapt backward as Tru lashed out with a backhand as he spun to face Jon, before flexing his wrist and recalling his knife to hand in an attempt to stab the man in the back. The fact that Tru gave him a smirk without bothering to look back as the knife bounced off of him, proved how futile that attempt was.
That did not stop him from recalling the knife between Truâs legs and attempting to shank the manâs groin. The fact that Tru caught his hand with wide eyes however did stop him from castrating the man.
âOkay, can you quit going for the groin shots kid?â
He answered by stepping in and kneeing him.
The flat look from Tru and the pain in his knee told him which of them that hurt more.
âRightâ¦â
Tru pulled his head back slightly before headbutting Jon hard enough that he couldâve sworn he heard his skull cracking as his vision blurred. Not that that possible concussion did anything to numb the feeling of being grabbed, and kneed in the chest with enough force to break a couple of ribs. Ribs that if they werenât broken by that were broken by the punch that sent him flying into the arena wall with enough force to actually leave him hanging in a small crater.
âPixsh?â He mumbled, hoping his little light hadnât been crushed by the impact that kept him from feeling his toes.
The cool warmth that filled him, gave him far more mental relief than physical as it began to painfully snap his bones back into place.
âYou know kid Iâm honestly kind of disappointed here!â Tru yelled after him. âI mean after seeing that fight you had with the Scarecrow? And hearing about how you took on the Horror? I thought you were a real fighter! I mean Iâve seen you do better! I know you can fight! So whereâs the fucking monster?!â
As he pulled himself out of the wall Jon inhaledâ¦
And the Beast exhaled.
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