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Pip would stand below the bleachers in the same situation as he had in his previous fight. He was upset at what he had to do. He had to hurt nice people for his own means. It was bad. It was nasty. It was necessary, but still... Bad.

And not only that, but he was wet.

The child from Las Vegas, Nevada.

Stuck fighting in the rain.

He was not only uncomfortable with the fact that he had to fight and possibly disfigure another nice person, but also the environment that he was being forced to do it in. He had to hurt someone? Fine, so long as he was content with the result. He was forced to do so in the rain?

Pip was less than happy with the situation.

The young blond haired boy would step out into the rain and the entire crowd would begin cheering. Many of them had seen his last fight and gotten a good laugh or two in before he knocked out his opponent, and those that hadn't seen it were being informed by their friends in neighboring seats of the nineteen year old's stomach fireworks. He would endure the cheering just as he would endure the mental assault that the appearance of a fighter would do to a crowd.

These were not very nice people. There were a few celebrities in the audience, a few of the shapeshifters of Gaia Primus' thriving entertainment industry, but most of the rest were animals. Terrible people that were only there to watch the young gun in the tournament hurt another nice person. Someone that might even have been called a friend at some point. The emotions that washed over Pip as he stepped into the field were just as unpleasant as his feelings before, but these were more difficult to block out.

To get the agony of this mental tirade over with faster, Pip would remove his left hand from his high-necked leather jacket pocket as he continued walking forward, and grab hold of the cylinder that was strung to his left hip. The crowd would grow louder, those knowing what he was about to pull out, even though his body language was already curling in on itself. His shoulders would hunch in, his chin would tuck, his knees would even start hugging as he removed his twenty six inch steel baton, snapped his wrist, and revealed his primary weapon to all of those blood-thirsty animals with their eyes on him.

Pip would keep on walking until he was at the dead center of the arena. it was easy enough to tell, with his mind. He knew where the audience was, and when each mind was as far from his own as it was going to get, then he was in the middle. There he would kneel down, his hunched up form getting even more curled in on itself. He looked the turtle that he had shown the audience before, with the exception of the baton that would still be gripped tightly and pointed in front of him now that his leather gloved hands would be tightly crossed in his lap.

He almost looked to be praying.

Praying. The act of talking to the one true god. But Pip was not talking to god; No. He was concentrating, just as one would with the holy spirit in communication. He was relaxing just as one does with the holy ghost inside of them. He was blocking everything else from his mind just as the Son had while being crucified... but Pip was not praying. He was instead drawing up his powers into something that he could use. Drawing them forwards so that he might end this fight as quickly as he had the last. Drawing them forward as if from a god...

A god that he didn't believe in.

Or not this particular mind, anyways.

The baton's ball of a head would rest in the grass in front of him while he kept a firm, leather gloved grip on the handle. As he knelt down the feel of wet grass would begin soaking through the knees of his jeans. He hadn't felt the rain through his boots, but the jeans let him know just how cold this fighting environment was. That shock to his system was enough to keep him from vomiting as he had in the last round.

After all, the teen exposing his weapon made the crowd roar as they had when Pip had almost removed his last opponent's leg...

These people were terrifying. Evil. And Pip was their little gladiator. Their Butcher.

The wet blond locks of hair would cover it, but Pip's cold, blue eyes would be watching where his opponent would be coming from very carefully. He was going to shut whoever it was down, and hard. He needed the prize money.

Needed.

The other man might need it as well...

But Pip had promised.

The water would drip from the ends of the boy's long strands of hair that hid his face as he waited.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Pip noticed that his opponent was entering and would crack a smile. This time he wasn't beating up a nice girl. Someone pretty that could have been related to one of the super nice nurses from the hospital. He didn't have to worry about that. This man was obviously a fighter. Though that didn't make him mean.

But made him less likable.

After all. It was the male doctors and orderlies that made Pip take his pills.

Definitely less likable.

As such, Pip wouldn't even bother waiting for the man to make his way further into the arena then two feet or so. They were still a long ways away from one another (apprx. 34-35 feet, as Pip had knelt down dead center in the Arena) but the distance could have been worse, and Pip saw exactly what he wanted to be trying.

His opponent would have made his second step forwards (going to go with right foot since it shouldn't really matter) out into the damp field. The wet grass didn't provide the best traction, especially with the rain still falling, but because Ryu was moving at a slower walk he wouldn't be in any real trouble of falling. At least not until Pip had his way.

The young blond didn't have a lot of energy stored up, but he had enough to exert about the same amount of force as he had in one of his arms. Pip was not a small man, and so this was not an inconsiderate amount of force... just not as much as Pip could field. He would extend his consciousness towards his opponent and do his best to latch onto Ryu's trailing left leg. From there he would simply pull that leg to Ryu's back and right. The intention was to make his opponent fall down before he was able to make an entrance. The pull wouldn't be short and small, but would rather pull that leg to the point of hyper-extension.

Chances were that the slick grass and still falling rain would help the youth in dropping his opponent on his opponent to the ground and possibly give him a sore a**.

After this happened, Pip would stand and begin walking forwards once again. His baton would be swinging at his left side as he began crossing the thirty-five feet to his (hopefully fallen) opponent. As he walked he wouldn't pause in his act of drawing forward psychokinetic energies and his eyes would be glued to his opponent through the soaked blond locks dangling before his eyes.

This was a game that he would be able to play for quite some time.

Well crap. The crowd got a good laugh out of Ryu's antics, not realizing that they had been precipitated by Pip, but...

The blond competitor had pulled with as much mental strength as he could and his opponent still didn't land on his backside. Rather he landed in a kneeling position after performing a little flippy. It was amusing to watch, but at the same time, Pip had been hoping to close the distance between the two while his opponent recovered.

So much for the slow approach.

Pip wasn't a fan of "wet." He didn't like it and he had only really been introduced to it as of his introduction to Gaia. He wasn't the best on his feet in it, but he still had to close the distance between him and his opponent now.

No real reason behind it.

The boy wanted this fight up close, personal, and finished soon so he could get out of this god awful meteorological event. He had given the nice lady a chance to quit. She didn't take it. A warrior (one of the few in this tournament that was actually bigger than Pip) wasn't likely to accept if the young lad offered it, so the brute would have to be knocked out.

The boy didn't really want blood... but it would be the easiest way to take this guy out.

As such he would have to speed up from a walking pace to a sprinting pace. His first step would be enough to get used to sprinting on this grass, while the second would be the one that really sprung him forwards. If his opponent had fallen down then Pip probably would have fallen into the man's trap, but since he was already half way to standing... Pip would almost seem to jump over the hidden hole. He didn't know that it was there... but his long legs carried him well over a full three foot gap while in a hard sprint towards an opponent that was probably getting up.

At this pace it wouldn't take long for Pip to reach his opponent, but in the final (call it twenty seven feet or so?) he would still be focusing his energies, and continue to block out the roar of the crowd that was watching the youth accelerate.

The approach of the child would be straight on, aiming for the fallen warrior without falter.

The squelch sound as his feet came down on the moist ground was loud and only getting louder with his approach.

That noise was amusing while he ran towards his new friend.

Squish.

Squish.

Squish.

Squish.

Squish.

Squish.

Squish.

Squish.

Squish.

Squish.

Squish.

SQUISH!

An almost feral grin would appear on the boy's lips as he saw his opponent's actions. He wasn't blood thirsty. He wasn't full of RAEG or HAET but rather with joy. He didn't like rain. He didn't like having to fight. He didn't like the crowd waiting for the impact between these two competitors.

He did like when his plans fell into place. Especially considering that these plans rarely ever did. After all, the boy had to stay in one mind set for the plan to remain active and understood. He had to avoid his opponents changing his plans suddenly with their own. He had to not get caught by a fancy and have that drive him to abandon his schemes.

Really...

A mental patient usually doesn't succeed in trapping his opponent.

The blond haired boy would finish drawing up a little bit more energy to complete his attack when he was only ten feet from his still kneeling opponent. This would be when he would begin his attack.

Not a master stroke by any means.

But a plan that was laid out and followed through.

His nurses and teachers in pattern recognition and logic would have been so proud of him.

Pip's conscious mind would stretch out once again, getting three firm grips on his opponent, each grip having about the same strength of one of Pip's arms. The locales (to be given momentarily) wouldn't be the best seeing as how the kneeling warrior was stronger than Pip, but Pip's psychokinetic grips would have all of the leverage.

Two of these invisible hands would be grabbing at either one of Ryu's wrists, each pulling back and over the shoulder. Ryu had crossed his arms in front of his body in preparation of Pip's charge and as such would now be having his hands pulled rather violently over their opposite shoulders and upwards.

[/Ooc: I'll give you all a moment to try it at home to realize how silly this looks!]

This would hopefully block Pip's final approach with Ryu's own arms, as well as possibly adding some upward force to the ground manipulator. That upward force would be what would wind up dislocating the shoulders as well before too long when taken into account Pip's other actions.

The third and final psychokinetic grip would be laid on the soggy red of Ryu's hair. A firm grip with plenty of hairs involved would be used to pull with the strength of one of Pip's arms upwards and slightly back.

All of this together?

It would hopefully put the defender in enough pain and discomfort to stand up and (due to hair pulling) possibly stagger back a step or two while Pip finished crossing that final ten feet.

Whether or not this happened (and the sheer novelty of this attack should guarantee some form of success... after all, who would be expecting such a maneuver?) Pip would continue on. He would perform what marathon runners called a burst of energy. It wasn't anything magical, it was simply putting your reserves into the end of a sprint to get that much extra speed behind themselves, as well as force in this case.

This would be the point that some dimensions and math would be used, though Pip would not be aware of the nature of his narrow escape from his opponent's trap attempt. See, the drop pit was three feet in diameter directly below Pip's intended tackling dummy. Said dummy had been kneeling when he had created the drop pit and therefore if he had staggered backwards he would most likely have two feet of drop pit in front of him and a foot behind him (subtracting the size of his presumably massive feet). Pip would be performing not quite a football tackle, but something more akin to a flying raging bull after a long charge tackle.

He would pitch his baton at the man's hopefully exposed genitals and then drive his left foot firmly into the ground in order to get one last firm shove off towards his tangled foe. Pip would tear up grass with that final push and an earthworm would begin wondering how he had gotten exposed to drops of rain falling. The earthworm hadn't hurt anyone and he was now without his tunnels.

So sad.

Pip's right shoulder would be driven into his opponent's gut or chest (or if Ryu remained kneeling then his head) and instead of driving forwards with his feet he would simply let his full momentum carry them in towards the wall. He would be pretty much airborne, trying to bring his opponent to the same situation, as he would be firmly wrapping his gloved hands around his opponent. The boy had the bit between his teeth.

Wait.

What wall?

That's right. Ryu had been kneeling maybe a couple steps from the wall separating the crowd from the fighters (a foot and a half tops), and there would be many factors adding together to cause pain and possible property damage.

The slick grass would provide no traction for Ryu to brace against Pip's approaching attack, and seeing as how his arms and hair would be pulling him upwards, that already slim coefficient of friction would be easily reduced to such negligible amounts, the elementalist might as well hope for air friction to slow him down before impact.

The fact that Ryu would be being dragged backwards by his hair even before the strike of the two hundred and ten pound teenager would mean that there would be a lot of momentum built up (between the two together) aimed squarely towards the retaining wall behind the older competitor.

Finally the idea that when the head is pulled by the hair up and back, the tucked chin would probably become the opposite. Ryu's chin would probably be forced up and so the very first thing to hit the wall with four hundred and fifty pounds behind it as well as a bunch of pent up kinetic energy... would be first some red hair, and then a skull.

Needless to say that that was not the most optimum way to take a collision like that.

All of these things put together added up to fun times for the spectators and hopefully an end to the rain and fighting for one blue-eyed lad.

Step by step, action by action. At ten feet Pip would be doing several things. He would be reaching out to three separate points in space and gripping what was currently occupying said space. Three of those as well as throwing his baton towards where Pip had hoped his opponents groin would be.

Pip didn't take very long to grab a hold with his three grips, doing just as he had intended, gripping the wrists and face of his opponent and pulling backwards and up, aiming to cross Ryu's arms in front of his own face awkwardly while simultaneously craning the neck backwards.

These grips would be set into place during Ryu's reaction time, for even with sped up knowledge and reflexes he was still responding to what Pip was doing.

In response to Pip using his powers, his opponent would begin to manipulate the ground. Growing a seven foot tall wall of mud while it was still raining (meaning that chances were the wall would probably be melting while growing as well) would not be an instantaneous event. It would take a few seconds at least. Growing a wall that big out of materials that were pretty much without viscosity was not going to go fast.

While the building of a wall would go slowly (in terms of physics) dropping into a hole would be anything but. The hole would open up and Ryu would be falling.

But not falling far.

Pip's opponent's strategy was dependent on Pip losing sight and therefore losing his psychokinetic grips.

This was not the case.

Even if he could no longer see his psionic manipulations, they still existed. He wouldn't be pulling up anymore because of the downward force matching the upward force that Pip had been planning on applying anyways.

The reason behind the "even if" would be because of Pip's height, the slow growth of the wall, and his already hurried approach.






Pip was six feet and three inches tall, approaching at over three feet a stride, and the wall had to grow up to seven feet out of mud.

The boy's eyes would remain on his opponent easily and his psychokinetic hold would hold strong.

Hold very strong.

And so as Ryu fell he would be jerked to a stop by the three individual grips, either wrist and the hair at the back of the head. Not only would the head one hurt like a son of a b***h (Ryu weighing a full two hundred forty pounds) but the crossed arms catching would also have a rather good chance of dislocating the earth manipulator's shoulders.

Then would come the baton.

The baton had been aimed at where Ryu's standing form's groin would be. The growing wall would not be in the way at this point, because the baton was being thrown from shoulder height. Clearing the top of the wall would be a cinch.

The baton would fly over the wall of mud aimed where?

Because it had been aimed at where a standing groin would be and instead Ryu would be a little further beneath kneeling level the tall man would now have a steel baton headed towards his upper chest / chin / throat area. It was more likely that the throat would be hit because of the fact that Pip's mental grip on Ryu's hair was craning the neck backwards.

And what would Pip be doing as a wall was growing in front of him and his opponent was now hanging by Pip's psionic grips? While his baton would be bashing into a windpipe?

Pip would be still be running.

Keep in mind that the boy had been running full tilt even before he had opened up his mind and given Ryu an inkling of what his powers were. He had ten feet to cross. Three steps before he jumped at his opponent.



Ten feet at full speed from a perfectly fit combatant in a fighting tournament.

Immediately following the baton would be a two hundred and ten pound teenager flying over the mud wall. The fact that Pip was airborne and right behind his thrown weapon would mean that as the wall was growing it would catch his shins on the way up, coating him from the knees down in mud, but not adding too much damage. The fact that he would be over the wall before it would have grown all the way would mean he would have avoided the projectiles fired from it.

Pip had been aiming to jump out and crash into Ryu's chest / gut area. Unfortunately (or fortunately) Ryu was now suspended by Pip's own psionic grips and where his chest should have been his face and arms now were. The arms being crossed in front of the face would blind him to the coming assault, but would probably transfer the energy just fine.

Pip's right shoulder would be slamming into Ryu's arms and head only a half of a moment after the baton would have collided with the throat. The crossed arms in this scenario would block much of the traumatic force to Ryu's head but would absorb even more stress to his shoulder joints. If they weren't dislocated by now, then nothing was going to pull that ball out of that socket.

Pip's arms would link around the back of Ryu's head and arms as he would collide with the elementalist and very probably shove the two bodies into the back of the hole that had been created. His grip would be strong enough to keep his opponent's arms strung up over his own eyes especially after the already forced arm trauma.

Not very much force behind the collision with the rear of the hole because of how soft the ground that they were crashing into was, but it would still be another straw set into the earth manipulating camel's back.


[/Ooc: Put this together kind of rushed because of my weekend off of the internet. Hope that it makes sense. See you on Sunday.]

[/Ooc: Alright. This is for the judges. I have missed the past few days due to my busted leg in case you missed my notification. Ryu has told me through a friend that he has had an unstable internet connection. Hence why we've had a total of eleven posts including this one.

I hope that we don't get absenteeism points deducted for this.

We also had a chat through PM's in which we decided that instead of arguing about positioning and timing we would say that: Ryu's wall went through ahead of Pip's approach, and the projectiles were fired off. This would be happening and so would Pip's psionic grips. The grips would not miss, and the wall would form ahead of Pip.

This is where my post begins.]

The wall springing up in front of the blond teen was indeed a surprise, especially as it happened at the same time as he felt his mental grabby hands finding their purchases on his opponent. Pip was already running full tilt over wet grass, and as such he wasn't about to even try changing his direction of travel or even his speed. He would continue on towards what he was sure would be imminent pain at his full speed.

Why?

Because Pip wanted to close the distance. This teen would break down a million walls with his forehead in order to get to this opponent. He was not about to stop because of some mud in his way.

The baton would be leaving his hand as the projectiles were erupting from the wall and sure enough the mud would divert the extendable steel from its target, and even more of the mud would crash into the running boy. Only one mud piece would catch his face, bringing an immediate bruise up to his cheek, and the rest would be spread around his high-necked leather jacket as well as his jeans. Though the legs weren't armored, the slight bagginess of the pants would help to absorb the impact a little. As for the ones hitting his upper body, his additional layer of protection sewn into his jacket's lining wouldn't help any more then the jacket itself. Leather was pretty good at evenly distributing the kinetic force behind such small attacks. No bruising, but Pip would sure have sore muscles for a while.

And then!

Headfirst through the wall!

Where his opponent would be strung up by those three grips, Ryu's own arms covering up his face, possibly already dislocated by the short drop and sudden stop. This would be what Pip's right shoulder would be crashing into. The arms that would be pulled tight and crossed in front of the head.

The teen would be soaked in mud, but the collision wouldn't be slowed. The power behind the teen's legs would crash them both into the back wall of the hole at (if the ground had been more solid) back-breaking speed.

The whiplash happening to Ryu, along with the amount of kinetic force being applied to his head should have been enough to buy Pip a moment or two of breathing time in which he could begin drawing up a little more power.

Something to finish this fight.

Hopefully.

The crowd that was immediately above this mud-wrestling grab-assing would begin to cheer as the two combatants finally collided. This was where it got entertaining.

This is where the blood got shed.

Yuck.

Mud.

It was sticky and wet and cold.

The child from the Nevada desert made the decision that no tactician ever would. He would chose to make himself comfortable instead of trying to finish his opponent off.

But who wouldn't?

Hell.

It was mud.

Gross.

Pip had a final little bit of energy that he had collected while airborne and about to slam his opponent into the wall. This might not seem like a lot of time to collect energy, but considering the slam would be slowed down by Ryu's sand armor bulging out, there would be enough for what Pip wanted.

And he wanted clean.

The two would... not so much crash into the wall behind them, but more would tap into it gently and Pip's legs would crash into the ground from his airborne state. Hard. Even though the slam hadn't been hard, the follow up sure would be. As Pip's feet hit the ground the silver inlay of Ryu's armor would be sliding through the mud over the youth's arms and right shoulder.

The other thing that would happen as Pip's feet struck the ground would be a concussive wave being pushed outwards from his body. Simply put: A thin psionic layer at the surface of his skin pushing outwards. It would interact with his clothes, tearing a few threads, and then pass through to the mud covering him.

This would go sailing.

But for some reason the mud that was on his arms and right shoulder / neck didn't get knocked off. It was interacted with the same way that his clothes were, pushed on, but it wasn't removed the same way the mud was.

It was sticking to him.

Too late to worry about that though.

The thing to worry about was Pip slamming his shoulder once more into Ryu's gut. That's right, because with both his feet hitting the ground and shoving him forwards again he would be striking right into Ryu's gut at the same time that his cleansing wave would be doing the same.

The psionic force wasn't a lot to add to the equation but it would be more than enough to change the shoulder strike from enough to wind the earth manipulator to enough to break the elementalist's lower ribs. Pip had slammed Ryu into the wall once, and now he wanted to do it again.

And he would continue on until interrupted.

The grass beneath Pip's feet would tear up and reveal more mud, making a little crater beneath the ball of each foot. He wasn't weak, and he was aiming to steal his opponent's breath and as many ribs as he could.

The crowd's roar would grow exponentially as the mud exploded off of the child, and as the shoulder was crashed again into Ryu's gut.

Hopefully there were more ways to slow down the impact against the wall. Because even though the first impact had been survivable the second would be pain.

Not quite pain incarnate.

But still pain.