5493/Tournament: Magical Fisting Powers

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Tournament: Magical Fisting Powers
Date of Scene: 04 October 2018
Location: Kairos
Synopsis: Tourney fight, Deadpool vs. Iron Fist.
Cast of Characters: Deadpool, Iron Fist
Tinyplot: Tourney


Deadpool has posed:
    Just to the side of the 'formal' tournament circle for fighting, there's several tables near the general seating. On said table, instead of in one of the chairs nearby, is plopped one singular odd mercenary in black and red leather. Fully armed: guns, swords, utility items that are both sharp and blunt for a variety of uses, many of them injury-related. He swings his legs like a five year old eager to begin his birthday party, but forced to sit.
    "Honestly no, I'm overheating like a roasted pork, glazed in my own sweet sweat. It's leather, tropical island. I will strip after this. Maybe during. I make it up as I go," Deadpool assures some random fighter near him who probably didn't ask, and is now retreating towards her seat. He looks around and fishes in a belt pouch, for his phone, slightly slouched, and pokes at it distractedly, awaiting his fight with reasonable patience.

Iron Fist has posed:
    So this was the place. Iron Fist enters the area, and scans it thoroughly with his eyes, checking for the exits, the ambush spots, and the ceiling height, just in case. Moving deeper into the room, he kneels slightly, and scrapes his fingers against the ground, then lifting them to smell. "Seems normal. No surprises yet." With a quick stretch, Iron Fist limbers up a bit to get ready for what was to come.

    Looking at the circle, and the seating areas, Iron Fist walks around them, and towards where the loudest person was located. The red-clad noisy guy could only be Deadpool. Of course. "Good afternoon DEadpool. Ready to begin?" Danny says, his voice filled with confidence. "I hear this is a place to fight. You up for it?"

Deadpool has posed:
    "I wiiiiiish," Deadpool says, hopping off the table immediately. "Hi, Fisty. It's Fisty, right? Of the Iron? I'd LIKE to just fly into combat, but like. We have the whole 'can there be stabbing' thing to sort out," Deadpool mentions brightly. His eyes are still on his phone, though he finally looks up and tilts his head at Iron Fist. "You probably don't do much stabbing. But one can only hope."

Iron Fist has posed:
    Iron Fist crosses his arms across his chest and frowns at Deadpool. "It is Iron Fist, Deadpool. Not Fisty." He looks at the ring, and then back at Deadpool. "I don't do much stabbing at all Deadpool. I thought this was a martial arts competition, not a...stabbing competition. I don't want anyone to get permanently hurt. You're the healer after all."

    Iron Fist steps forward again, and unclasps his arms. "What discussion do we need to do? Let's do this, mano a mano, and get it over with. I promise it will be quick." Iron Fist smiles. "Ready to go? Or is there more questions? After all, if you can only stab, and can't fight, this shouldn't last long, right?"

Deadpool has posed:
    "No blades, blaaaah. Questions? I have SO MANY questions about your 'Fist' style, holy /shit/, but regardless of THAT, we can't start yet. My cheerleading squadron isn't here yet. I promised them. It's very, very important," Deadpool states with Extreme Seriousness, yet still rapidfire. The merc talks FAST. "Sometimes they need time. And I will fuck up anybody that rushes them," he adds, with a weirdly defensive vicious quality to the tone. Lots of things Deadpool doesn't really mean, but he MEANT that one.
    "OH yay!" Deadpool suddenly declares, trotting to where a group of children is arriving to the spectating zone, aged 8 to 11. There are five, and an adult babysitter type. Most of the kids are bald but wear hats.
    "Cancer kids!" Deadpool greets them eagerly, dropping to his knees amidst them. "Give us hugs of luck. YAaaaaar, all the hugs," he says, in his little hug-circle. "Okay. Attach the good-luck bracelets you made. Split them up, in case I lose an arm," Deadpool instructs playfully, while the children tie little scraps of plastic braided neon bracelets onto him. "Now, remember, what do I ALWAYS say?" Deadpool asks the group, pleasant and prompting.

Iron Fist has posed:
    Iron Fist regards Deadpool for a few seconds, and before he replies, stops himself short with what he was going to say. Not sure how to take this "person", Iron Fist shakes his head, and sighs. "I see this is going to be a long day." Iron Fist then says, "You certainly talk an awful lot. I thought Spider-Man had a problem with talking too much, but I gotta admit, you take the cake. That is some class A verbal diarrhea." Iron Fist says, while studying Deadpool.

    "I promise I won't rush them, especially with my Fist." Iron Fist says, with a smile. Then he watches as Deadpool walks over to the kids, blinks, and frowns. "Why are there kids here?" Iron Fist says from across the room. "Don't tell me they are your "cheerleading squad...dammit, where is the advil..." Danny facepalms, and already feels a headache coming on. Getting up into the fighting area, Iron Fist says, "Deadpool! Let's go! Enough playing around."

Deadpool has posed:
    "We can do anything even if we have cancer," parrots a girl. "That is mostly right!" Deadpool agrees, extending one finger to bap the girl on the nose. "Boop." The boop is verbal. "You can beat that cancer, and win the tournaments of LIFE."

    "Yay!" echo the kids. Dead takes a quick selfie with them, PEACE SIGN, and then Deadpool stands in a sleek little lunge and wheels, pulling his katana and tossing them onto the table. He still has everything ELSE on him: the guns, and so on, but that's what occurred to him to remove. Maybe. He's erratic. "Okay! For the cancer kids! -That's not really a bad battlecry, is it. Playing? Cancer is not a game," Deadpool says, as he strolls back into the fighting circle.

    Don't worry, there's more talking.

    "So do you want to like handshake, or bow, or do we just each say a catch phrase? I have a few I can do." Deadpool does not look remotely ready, he still even has his phone out. He turns his back on Iron Fist and takes a selfie again. With Iron Fist.

Iron Fist has posed:
    Iron Fist watches the whole show, shaking his head, and stretching, in order to stay limber. His eyes watch the scene play out, and without a word, Iron Fist waits, patiently now, for Deadpool to finish whatever it was he was doing, and come start this match. "What is this, a comedy review? Am I on candid camera or something?" Iron Fist says, under his breath. "Unblievea..."

    As Deadpool strolls into the ring, Iron Fist says, "It is up to you. I usually do this," and Iron Fist bows at the waist, his hands in the perfect respectfully "ready" pose in front of his chest, his eyes never leaving Deadpool as he takes the "selfy".

Deadpool has posed:
    "Amy, catch. Don't look at my pictures. You have enough going on in your short life without adding that. Play Unicorn Sparklepony Blitz or something," Deadpool says, underhand-tossing his phone carefully to one of the kids. And back to Iron Fist, without really much pause. Deadpool watches the beginning pose of Iron Fist, as if he were judging a modeling competition. "You'd probably do better if you angled, put weight more on one leg. Yeah. And slightly tilt. Contrapposto. That's when your shoulders and hips are at slightly different angles. Breaks up the space, makes for dynamic pose," Deadpool says, moving to engage as if Iron Fist hadn't been waiting on HIM.

    Not that he stops talking. It's very unfocused and disconnected from what he's physically doing. It's like he has a power to distract or something. "Also, candid camera ended in like 2014. Give or take. How OLD are you, with that reference?" Deadpool asks.

Iron Fist has posed:
    Iron Fist stands up straight, and prepares for the fight by getting into a relxed defensive posture. "Thank you for the advice Deadpool." He says with a chuckle. "Glad to know that I haven't learned anything in all my years of training. I can always use constructive criticism."

    As Deadpool moves to engage, Iron Fist notes his sloppy posture, his unfocused nature, and his attempts at distracting. And they probably work, because Iron Fist comes at him with "Crane Parting Water" rapid strike to the face, followed by a sweep kick, hoping to catch Deadpool unawares.

Deadpool has posed:
    "So, inquiring minds that entirely maybe just me want to know: which charity are your winnings going to if you do well? Is it Fisted Recovery Anonymous? That might not actually exist. You could found it if you win. Unrelated to anything related to your fists, certainly. I mean, /I/ could. Don't take that all personal. The Fist thing just made me think of it. Charity though? Or is it more a greed thing for you? Because I get that. But fighting for a CAUSE really powers you up. Like, superhero levels," Deadpool prattles.
    He doesn't entirely sidestep, he flips a forearm up to half-deflect the kick, hopping the sweep, and does a strange little swing-dance style spin in closer to Iron Fist, attempting to open-palm slap. It's a mix of maybe a dance move and also probably surprising acrobatics, since it was all done off of one heel after that little hop. "SLAPS FOR THE CAUSE!"

    It might be frustrating to attempt to deal with an opponent that really isn't focused. Even an empathy read on Deadpool will end up with a '!??@$#' verdict. He feels eight different ways about this.

Iron Fist has posed:
    Trying to ignore the prattling going on around him with Deadpool's latest verbal barrage, Iron Fist realises that is part of his fighting style. Fighting to not get frustrated and irritated by the words and the comments, Iron Fist ignores the words as best he can with a grunt, and a quick, "I support a dozen charities, including Fist Deadpool's Face Anonymous."

    As the slap lands, Iron Fist realises, with a start, that Deadpool was better than he thought he would be. Shaking the sting out of the slap, Iron Fist steps back and adopts a defensive crouch, raising his hands up in a defensive posture. "Nice gymnastics and nice slap. Funny, you actually hit like a girl too."

Deadpool has posed:
    "Oh good, gender insults. Your mom must be so proud. Will you call me a pussy next? You KNOW, though? The pussy is made of adamantium, I'm pretty sure. You can beat one all NIGHT for weeks and it just keeps on. Call me a pussy any day, those things are a force of NATURE. I mean, they also squirt out people. That's some feat you and I can't even come close to. I mean. Except in terms of ringing the doorbell a little," Deadpool shares.

    "Hear that kids? RESPECT YOUR WOMEN," he calls to the cancer kids. "Also," Deadpool says, to Iron Fist, "FIRST strike." He raises a finger as if to mark it in the air with a little notch. He tilts his head and puts the finger to his cheek in a 'kawaii' cute pose like a young Japanese girl. And then lunges left, with a flip and spinning kick. It's not an unusual attack in itself, just a sudden swing from the other pose.

Iron Fist has posed:
    "My mom is dead, actually." Iron Fist says with a grunt, as he maneuvers around Deadpool, not bothering to comment any further, moving right to Deadpool's moving left. As the kick comes up, Iron Fist ducks under it, "Feather Under Waterfall", and then aims for Deadpool's knee with full, non-Iron Fist force...

    ...the knee that was opposite to the kicking leg, a vulnerable spot, as it is the leg holding Deadpool up. Danny then follows that with a maneuver that allows him to leap backwards, landing on his feet gracefully, in ready mode, facing Deadpool once more.

Deadpool has posed:
    "You could create the dead mom's club! That's not really a charity though, too broad, like 'the people' charity; which ends up sounding like a race supremecy thing, so maybe not," Deadpool helps. He's mid-air, so he can't adjust, and Iron fist was super ready this time. The impact comes into his other knee, and hits it really badly (for Deadpool). He lands on it, and it doesn't hold his weight, he drops on his ass. "OW," Deadpool announces, upset.

    The kids promptly start to wail in response. "Are you okay?!" Amy (cancer child #2, in case you forgot) shouts at him, worried. Deadpool flashes a thumbs-up to the children, and moves drops his hands to quickly re-set the knee with a crunchy noise. He hops up just using his other leg to propel it, and doesn't bother with recovery time, he comes in again, using the injured leg, it a sudden upperwards kick: that hyperextends, because of the knee issue.

Iron Fist has posed:
    Watching as Deadpool lands on his ass, Iron Fist waits, not pressing the attack. "You can surrendur now, Deadpool, with no loss of honor. I will accept it with grace and humility." He watches, as Deadpool continues to play to the crowd, and re-sets his knee with a crunch. That actually causes Iron Fist to wince slightly.

    "That must hurt. Let me get you some help..." Iron Fist moves to head towards the edge of the circle, about to call a medic over, when Deadpool leaps up, comes at him, surprising him! Iron Fist feels the body of Deadpool hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind out of him, and taking him by surprise...advantage, Deadpool!

Deadpool has posed:
    Everything is suddenly super serious. Deadpool's flipped modes on a dime. The sudden onslaught is heavy. No slaps: a series of hard punches, knee, using the opening like a juggernaut of quick assault in weird combos of whatever Deadpool's brain chose to string together. The opportunist does not overlook advantage. He does what he can to stay out of Fisting Zone. Which doesn't mean the talking stops.

    "This would be so much more satisfying with my blades or my guns, I can't even start to explain it," Deadpool laments, but there's a venom in the tone, and some focus. Effort is being applied. "Not gonna lose in front o' my kidlings. You understand. They need a real hero for the next month or whatever that they'll live. Kinda good it's not longer than that, I'm not sure about my own longevity on heroism, really. Also my knee is better now; appreciate you asking, new buddy." With a vicious kick from the leg that shouldn't be so functional.

Iron Fist has posed:
    Right now, the best Iron Fist can do is survive. The blows land hard, and the "crack" that can be heard is a cracked rib or two. Iron Fist gasps, and falls back underneath the blows, trying to block them, but some getting through. The ferocity surprises him, as he tastes blood in his mouth. That one was going to sting...but, as Iron Fist starts to get his barrings back, he blocks and parrys all of the newer attacks.

    "I bet it would." Iron Fist says through clinched teeth about blades and guns. "Darn healing factor...guess we're using powers now, huh? Sorry about this..." Knowing that if Iron Fist didn't end this soon, he uses a traditional, basic kung fun move. Using Deadpool's stregth and ferocity against him, Iron Fist blocks, twists his upper body to maneuver Deadpool so that Iron Fist is now facing his back, concentrates, and suddenly strikes with this right fist now glowing...the Iron Fist has appeared!

Deadpool has posed:
    "If I could control my healing I would be SO extremely happy and probably not entering tournaments or anything. I'd be super retired and relaxing someplace and able to think straight. It would be amazeballs," Deadpool says with a deep relief of sound. "/Darn/? Who are you, Captain America? If you're going to swear, don't wimp out, go for the (@#&& gold." A pause. He censored.

    "Why the *@&& am I censoring?!" he demands of absolutely nobody, distracted, and getting punched very hard in the back. He goes flying, to land on his face.

    "Oh, the kids are here. That's why the censoring. I @#*@* didn't think this through. Think things through, you @#@**!& piece of @**##^," Deadpool growls at himself, peeling himself up off the ground as his spine fixes.

Iron Fist has posed:
    "I see this is going to be harder than I thought." Iron Fist says, crouching back with his hand glowing, as he watches Deadpool getting back off the ground. "Retirement is still in the picture here Deadpool." Iron Fist presses the advantage, maeuvering into Deadpool's range, and attempting a flurry of blows on Deadpool's chest, head, and body, including a few follow up kicks and lunges meant to end this quick. The Iron Fist glows through the air as it moves, like a will o' the wisp in the dimly lit arena.

Deadpool has posed:
    Deadpool doesn't dodge as expected. He feints as if he'd roll away, but then rolls towards it, taking a little bit of the barrage. There's blood inside his mask from a facial hit, that spreads and darkens the red area of lower mask just a little bit. The grin shows through the fabric. "That's what she said," Deadpool can't resist. "----Sorry not sorry." Deadpool will lean into the damage, in a healing-berserker style, in order to get very close, starting with an abrupt yell:

    "SHORYUKEN!"

    The uppercut contains a small acrobatic lunge and pivot upwards, bent backwards with the spine injury, but it knits finally, and allows full force behind the sharp and very close-ranged blow.

Iron Fist has posed:
    Uh oh. Before Iron Fist realised what was happening, it was too late. This is an "attack" that Iron Fist had never really encountered before, and it was his overconfidence that had got him into the mess. Never before had anyone took blows from the Iron Fist itself, with the intent to get in close!

    Darkness. Tinged with pain - lancing through his skull, and his back where the blows had landed. The first blow, the uppercut, which he could do nothing against. The second was his back, as it landed on the deck with an ugly crunch. The "woosh" of the air being knocked out of his lungs didn't help, ad the light came flooding back to him. How long had he been out. Seconds from the looks of things.

    "Argh!" Iron Fist says, wincing at the pain, but struggling to get back up. The light from the Iron Fist had winked out immediately after the blow from Deadpool, as he lost concentration. THis fight was nearly over...and not in a good way.

Deadpool has posed:
    Deadpool limps over and attempts to sit on Iron Fist's chest. A little heavily, because he hurts, but at least nothing was cut off, so the healing is efficient. He also attempts to pat Iron Fist's cheek to 'wake him up'. "You know, it strikes me we should have agreed on terms of like, what loss is. I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to kill or I get Dee-Qued. Also, thinking maybe I should recruit you to my new super group. So. How about we go with 'out of ring'?" Deadpool suggests, rolling, and will promptly begin to try to drag Iron fist towards the side of the ring/fighting area edge by the foot.

Iron Fist has posed:
    Iron Fist felt almost defeated. He had been pulling his punches, not wanting to kill the man. The whole healing factor didn't help. "Cough." Iron Fist blinks, and fights to stay awake, knowing that if he drifts off, this was over. Struggling to get air into his lungs, he gasps and pushes away all the little blinking lights fluttering across his vision.

    As Deadpool's little taps help keep him awake, Iron Fist groans as he is dragged towards the edge of the ring. Perhaps there was still one chance to win this. Kicking out of Deadpool's grasp, Iron Fist rolls over with a groan.

    Iron Fist spits blood onto the floor, and can feel where Deadpool is. Closing his eyes, he uses his chi to sense the location of the man. Hiding his hand under his chest so that Deadpool didn't see it, Iron Fist waits until Deadpool was close enough to grab his leg again, and turning with lightning speed, attempts to hit Deadpool with all his chi, and Iron Fist enhanced strength - enough to shatter steel!

Deadpool has posed:
    "Oopsy daisy, sorry about the road rash," Deadpool was saying, turning his head to look behind him so that he doesn't drag Iron Fist into a table or something. He turned back to suddenly get a really horrible punch in the head. He rolls sideways with it, reflexes taking maybe 2% of the blow off as he rolls with it, crumpled, towards the ring center.

    "Mmmrhghhh," Deadpool says into the ground. That's one way to temporarily shut up the merc: break the jaw.

Iron Fist has posed:
    Suddenly energized once again, Iron Fist stands up, grimacing in pain. This had gone on for a long time, and it was obvious they were going to beat each other to death if they kept this up. If Deadpool could die. As the blood drips to the floor from his chin, and the weezing coming from his chest reveals those injuries, Iron Fist holds up his hands, and says, "Look. If we keep this up, we'll never get a winner. I'll keep beating you, you'll keep losing limbs, etc. So, how are we going to solve this? Rock, paper, scissors?"

Deadpool has posed:
    "MGehhrgl," Deadpool says. He then holds up one finger in a 'just a second' motion, and peels the front of his mask up, to partially pull some broken jaw out of the nasal cavity. He freely drips a lot of blood all down his hand and forearm, and distractedly sort of flicks it away off his arm and wipes some on his thigh.

    "Ffffmmn." Still nothing. Frustrated, and probably suffering concussion, Deadpool points at Iron Fist, then out of the ring, then downwards, then stops a foot, and then crosses his arms. And then pauses, and forms a heart with his hands at Iron Fist.

Iron Fist has posed:
    Shaking his head, Iron Fist frowns, and tries to figure out what the heck that Deadpool was trying to say. "Sorry I busted your jaw that bad." Iron Fist looks at the grisly sight, and shakes a bit of the blood off his chin with a smooth motion of his hand.

    "What are you trying to say?" Iron Fist says it with a tinge of frustration. "Both of us could leave right now and call it a draw I guess. Not sure that is a good thing or not."

Deadpool has posed:
    Deadpool motions with one hand in a 'aw shucks' way to indicate that his jaw isn't so bad. He stretches it a little more, and speech returns. He spits a bit of blood and two teeth out. "I was /saying/," Deadpool says, a bit wetly but not unclearly. He approaches, taking his time, as if still out of it from the ringer to the head. "That I'm not gonna lose in fronta my cancer kidlings," Deadpool says. "Might vomit though."

    He holds up the 'just a sec' finger again, bent over in front of Iron Fist a little bit, like he might puke between them. He spits a bit, but no vomit. "Never mind, I'm okay," Deadpool says brightly. He twists and rams towards Iron Fist low, a headbutting shove of head and shoulder, intending to suddenly force Iron Fist out of the ring, since he's right by the edge there, from prior dragging.

Iron Fist has posed:
    Iron Fist listens to what Deadpool has to say, and in that moment, he looks over at the kids. With a frown, Iron Fist nods, and says, "I can understand. I have no idea whey you would bring kids to something like this, but I see you have your heart...um...kind of in the right place?" As Deadpool bends over to spit or vomit or whatever the heck he was doing, Iron Fist relaxes for a second, and says, "You okay...?"

    That was when the bull that was Deadpool rams into Iron Fist suddenly and without warning. As Iron Fist staggers backwards, trying to stand up right by grabbing Deadpool by the mask and pulling him with him. The blow was too much though, and Iron Fist's heel barely touches the edge of the ring. Getting into a defensive crouch, Iron Fist says, "What tha' heck man? We were talking? Parlay, and all that." That was when Iron Fist notices where his heel was. "I see." Where were Deadpool's toes?

Deadpool has posed:
    The pull to Deadpool's hood and mask took it off of the mercenary. Iron Fist may have expected an ordinary looking guy, instead of the cancer-wrecked face and head of Deadpool. The bloody jaw isn't helping. Assuming the 'what the heck' reaction to him is likely due to that, Deadpool sighs, "I know I look like a wax figure of Churchill and Hitler melted together into a perfectly fused artistic representation of their animosity. But cancer doesn't get to win."

    "Oh, you meant why did I shove you. Well, we both stumbled out, lookee that. We can be pals now." Deadpool attempts to lay his head on Iron Fist's shoulder. "So I'm forming a team...."

Iron Fist has posed:
    Blinking at the sight before him, Iron Fist doesn't say anything about it, instead, he simply nods. "We all have scars my new friend. Some are external. Some are internal." Danny taps his chest above his heart. Shaking his head, he says, "Pals...hurumph. You are right. Cancer doesn't get to win."

    With a swift motion, Iron Fist stands up straight, clenches his left hand in his right, and bows to Deadpool. "That was some of the...craziest combat I have even been a part of. The WWE has nothing on what just happened." Iron Fist smiles, and coughs up a bit of blood. Covering his mouth with his hand, he says, "Sorry."

    As Deadpool lays his head on his shoulder, Iron Fist says, "Well, I have a team, but if you ever need help, just drop me a line. I'll see what I can do to help out." As the dust settles into a draw, the man under the mask of the Iron Fist makes a mental note to ensure every kid brought to this contest by Deadpool, would receive substantial financial funding as soon as he got home. Hopefully it would be enough to help those kids beat cancer.

Deadpool has posed:
    "Okay! All the new pals here," Deadpool cheers up, and watches the bowing motion. He opts to send in a fist bump at the clenched fists, and then prances away. Prancing is the best way to describe it. He uses a foot to kick his mask up into his hand, drawing it back over his head as he walks. "So KIDS. Cancer doesn't always win, but SOMETIMES ya gotta have a draw now and then. But it's better'n losing!" he announces to them.

    "Let's fight again for funzies later, Fisty!" Deadpool adds over his shoulder, apparently fully recovered, and having gotten the correction on the name knocked out of his skull by the chi hit. It happens.