The Match You Never Dreamed of: Russian Electrobear vs. Filthy Inventionlad: A Rope Made of Sand

[notstevejobs]

Who: Apple Kid, Volgin, Spectators
What: A sparring match
Where: The Stadium
When: Futuredated to Thurs. Feb. 2nd
Warnings: As this thread involves Volgin, it will involve violence and swearing and rubber suits. The addition of Apple Kid invokes none of these.



Apple Kid was signed up for this tournament thing. He wasn't even aware that he was in Smash Fundamentals (he wasn't). But somehow his name had appeared on the signup sheet. Was this a trick? Had someone played an awful joke on our rotund hero? Someone who didn't like smells or inventions, probably. He was an NPC, therefore he wasn't supposed to fight.

But he was registered, and it seemed wrong to not go along with the whole ordeal. He'd spent a week trying to invent things that might be useful in his battle. Of course, useful in his own mind... So who knows if anyone else in the world would consider them useful. But here he was. Strange things poked out of his pockets; his mouse had left and been replaced with sundry articles, the purpose of which only Apple Kid could divine.

He stood around and waited for whatever was to come his way. The day was likely to be memorable.

Comments

SPECTATORS - SPECTATE HERE

[tank_rockarms]

Re: SPECTATORS - SPECTATE HERE

[star_punched]

[Volgin...do not...kill anybody okay.]

OBLIGATORY MAX

[tank_rockarms]

Max was, of course, waiting to officiate at this most honored and celebratory of moments. He didn't recognize the fat dumpling of a boy from his class, but figured he signed up just for the thrill of battle. Good for him. He needed to spend some time in the gym, however.

He was at the controls of the stage, waiting for Volgin to arrive before things were set In Motion by Max's biceps. And also by pushing some buttons. Max hoped he could remember to push the correct buttons.

[thewunderkind]

"Did you bring a body bag for this one?"

Not that Lash wasn't that excited about Apple Kid getting his or if he miraciously survived this that Volgin would get her (it was win-win, really) but there was even a line where she knew when someone was outnumbered.

OH NO NOT IVAN DRAG- VOLGIN TIME

[colonelcrotchgrab]

... But unfortunately, it was just that.

Volgin found a break in his monotonous schedule, and by god, even if he had no involvement in the class whatsoever, any excuse to render something legally and perfectly school-sanctioned into a bloody, ripe pulp he would take.

This had the terrifying brute, somehow in possession of his red rubber suit, arriving at the stadium in his insulated glory. The look was capped off with a bandolier of bullets that brought legal acquisition to question. Not that Volgin cared. He was going to make something beautiful of all this.

... After checking the weather for that day. To make sure.

... Even if his opponent happened to be a student and a child.

... Even if the heavy ammunition was overkill.

Having some familiarity with the Stage and how it worked, the giant gave Max, if he were in view, a quick nod as he stepped out and sized the poor boy up.

"If he dies, he dies." Volgin shrugged, his bulk on display.

[tank_rockarms]

Max looked at Volgin with all of his muscles.

"Ain't nobody gonna die. You can't die if you're in the stadium. The thing heals you up after the match is over. That's how it works."

"Anyway you're both here. Any feelings on what sorta stage you want or you gonna let me pick."

[notstevejobs]

"Anything should be fine," replied Apple Kid, who was very happy that he could not die, "provided Mr. Volgin is fine with it."

[colonelcrotchgrab]

That left Volgin, who ... well, had no real preference for a stage either.

... Almost no preference.

"One that isn't raining." A soft mutter of kuwabara, kuwabara followed, as the giant reached for several of his bullets to squeeze between his knuckles. "Hurry it up."

Apple Kid was looked very far down upon.

[tank_rockarms]

"Alright," said Max, punching in some buttons and selecting some whatevers.

Max really disliked busy stages, so he just picked one that looked nice and straightforward and really had nowhere to run.

Smashville.

It even came with its own spectators??? This was weird. Anyway, there it was.

"Whenever you're ready," Max said.

[notstevejobs]

Apple Kid stepped onto the stage.

Waiting.

Hands in his pockets.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Volgin was overeager, even on such a seemingly easy target. He had been bored the last two months, locked into regimen to maintain himself but not enrich himself.

This was his idea of enrichment: Pure brutality.

He savored it all with slow, sparking steps as he approached Apple Kid.

He wears Bulwark Acrobatic Limber Leg Emergency Tiptoe Enhancement Defense (B.A.L.L.E.T.E.D.) Shoes

[notstevejobs]

Well, it looked as if now would be as good of a time as any to attempt to save himself from a beating. Apple Kid clicked the heels of his shoes together once.

Suddenly, some dramatic and terribly ornate classical music began to play.

Apple Kid stood en pointe.

There was no way on God's green earth this child should have been able to do this.

oh my god that is beautiful. With the icon.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

And maybe Apple Kid was allowed the element of surprise, because the kid still surprised Volgin, nevermind his previous inventions in the class. Really, he should have been prepared for anything.

But, alas, here Volgin was, taking a brief pause with a usual confused grunt as he tried to anticipate whatever the boy had brought with him.

(Oh yes, that was also Tchaikovsky. He would die with taste.)

"You... think that will save you?"

Most of his icons are like this.

[notstevejobs]

"Partially," said Apple Kid. "In conjuncture with other elements, yes. I believe I have at least an 83.4% chance of surviving the first two minutes."

After which, Volgin, your downfall is assured. Because, uh, Apple Kid... and... ballet... and... Apple Kid.

Anyway, he awaits your first move.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

"Let's test it then."

Volgin took the invitation with hardly surprising gusto and broke his casual, arrogant stride, barreling at the boy. Indeed, he was ready to demonstrate those numbers. Two minutes? Hardly a challenge! The only challenge he had was whether to kick the boy or pound him into the ground.

He went with a powerful sweep of his over-muscled arm.

[notstevejobs]

There is a tiny benefit to being five feet tall when your opponent is seven feet tall. Your opponent cannot punch you but by leaning forward and down. This is a slight impediment.

If Apple Kid were some sort of fighting expert, he could have used this knowledge involving a series of feints and blocks and artful dodging to his advantage.

As Apple Kid was not a fighting expert, none of this was all that relevant for him.

However, as the little platform passed overhead, he leaped upon it with agility and grace surpassing what should have been capable for someone as round as he was tall. The music swelled to a fervor pitch as Apple Kid did a grand jeté off the platform to the other side of the stage, behind Volgin.

[pitticus]

Pit's jaw went slack after watching that miraculous feat. BUT HOW...

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Maybe Volgin, still capable of being easily brought down by someone of considerable hand-to-hand expertise, his own fading hold on Sambo and Spetsnaz Systema be damned, should have seen this coming too. Either way, Apple Kid was presented with a rather fetching view of his shapely behind as he made another surprised grunt and whirled around, cocking a heavy brow at how... ... he should not have been able to do that. That was impossible.

Thrusting out his palm, he was curious how the child would handle an uncharacteristically slow blast of serpentine electricity reaching for him.

[majorcrotchgrab]

And what a lovely, shapely behind it was.

[notstevejobs]

Handily, of course.

Apple Kid pulled something out of his overalls and tossed it into the middle of the stage.

He'd been working on a short range teleportation device. He hadn't figured out a way to make it feasible for human beings yet. Organic material had never been Apple Kid's strong point.

But mechanics. Oh yes.

He pushed a button on a remote control inside one of his pockets. The teleportation device activated and a piece of machinery materialized.



It was a twelve-foot-tall solar-powered robot duck that shot cans of soda out of his mouth. Soda Duck, heretofore unseen in these lands for years before this moment. Would any but Apple Kid herald his glorious reappearance?

The giant robot duck absorbed the electricity (it had been cloudy lately, thanks) and shot a can of soda in Volgin's direction.

[monotreme_101]

"....S....Soda... Duck...?"

Apple Kid's gift to Captain Syrup from... what? Four years ago, now? Three and a half at least. He remembered it well as a dispenser of wonderous grape sodas. But to say he was surprised to see it here? Now? That would be a severe understatement.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Volgin had no idea what the hell was that thing. Or how it came here so suddenly. He, cutting off the flow of power to the otherwise solar device, was also having second thoughts regarding this match as well; maybe he should start to take it seriously rather than assuming it to be a leisurely beating like back in the day.

... As a can of soda collided with his skull, reminding him that he probably should do something horrible and violent or he might lose on account of underestimating and gawking like an idiot. Fortunately, having tanked repeated RPG rounds before, the soda clattered to the ground after inflicting a mere bruise. Volgin stomped the carbonated fiend out of spite, getting soda across the stage but he was not going to be had by an eccentric, misguided child!

First, that meant attempting to destroy the poor duck with a bullet punch to the belly, should it be capable of anything else.

[notstevejobs]

Poor, poor woebegone Soda Duck.

It exploded, along with the hundreds of cans of highly pressurized carbonated beverages within its large belly.

A wave of grape soda, root beer, and off-brand cola burst out from Soda Duck's innards as Volgin's explosive fist burst into its belly storage area. Apple Kid clicked the transporter button, and sent the broken robot back to where it came from. He'd fix him later. Make a better Soda Duck. With twice the soda and a functional boomerang.

Apple Kid considered his options, but he trusted in his sweet ballet moves to keep him out of Volgin's reach for the next few moments anyway.

[majorcrotchgrab]

Oh God, Raikov covered his face. Liquids and Volgin were not a good mix...

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Well, shit. That was a great idea. Not only did he ram his large fist through the robot's belly, it was the explosive kind of punch that sent a small torrent of sticky soda on the Soviet. The display that followed was expectedly electrical, thousands of volts turned on him as he recoiled and hissed, reflexively snapping his external charge off.

Maybe he should have been more wary of robots that launched soda cans and whatever happened to be inside of them. He never was terribly fond of soda machines either; the one next to the cafeteria ate his change. Not to mention no one was allowed to be privy to the fact that he did something so disgustingly capitalistic as enjoy American soda.

(It did not taste like what he had back in the day, either, he might add.)

Meanwhile, Apple Kid was allowed a few seconds of precious time as Volgin regained his senses and overcame the sugary pain of his self-inflicted stupidity.

[notstevejobs]

He seemed stunned. This was fortuitous. It might give Apple Kid a chance to pull out his latest invention. It was only good for one shot. He had to make it count.

With jam-stained hands, he reached into his front pocket and pulled out a rubber chicken delightfully festooned with garlands of flowers.

He lobbed it at Volgin's face. Apple Kid wasn't that good of a sportsman, however. He sort of have to hope he'd just stand there and let it smack him.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Before Volgin knew it, something else pelted him, and it exploded with all the niceness and gentleness of many little, tiny lambs. And Downy sheets and lace. And tickly feathers.

Maybe it went something like this:



Volgin was totally unimpressed too:



More confused than anything, as the... niceness settled, he then deadpanned: "What the hell was that."

[notstevejobs]

There was a double rainbow and the sound of infants giggling on youtube videos.

"It was a Pacifism Bomb," replied Apple Kid.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

"A... 'Pacifist Bomb'," Volgin echoed, more used to the explosive nuclear types than this oxymoronic thing that just happened to him.

Catching himself, Volgin cut to the chase this time and charged at the boy, joining him on that ledge and bringing his massive armored leg back. It swung at the boy, ready to send him into orbit.

[notstevejobs]

Apple Kid giggled as he felt the feeling of a puppy licking his face where Volgin's kick had connected.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Volgin was about to suggest that Apple Kid had invented a Masochism Bomb, when a few good slugs later, the most damage he could inflict was the softness of a small kitten. Another swing that would have torn through even rocket-impenetrable armor, and it was the gentle warmth of a sunny day.

Sticky with sugary soft drinks and now apparently useless in hand-to-hand matters, Volgin had to stop for a moment, dumbfounded and needing to catch his breath.

This wasn't good. As a matter of fact, Volgin might have been a little concerned.

[star_punched]

This has gotten so...interesting. Mac was so quiet because he was so invested to what was going on.