tushanshu_logs | I try to understand you girl

Current Location: Fire Sector; Undisclosed
Current Music: Get Your Body Beat

Entry tags:

I try to understand you girl

Characters: Korra, OPEN
Date: Randomly throughout March.
Location: Fire Sector, one of the abandoned warehouses used in the underground fighting ring.
Situation: Blowing off steam and earning money in her equalist uniform.
Warnings/Rating: Violence, Blood, Broken Bones, etc.

The cage rattled before the raucous crowd surrounding the arena, the clanging metal was lost in their yelling. Inside was a bald, large, shirtless kedan with tattoos covering half his body and he had just thrown a much shorter female wearing a brown uniform mixed with maroon and a mask that had green goggles over her eyes. Both gloved hands gripped into the openings of the cage and she began to climb up, scaling with incredible ease.

The kedan didn’t even try to reach up for her even though he was almost tall enough to simply reach out and grab her. "There’s no getting out unless they unlock the door. And that ain’t happening until I knock you out." A curled sneer came across his face. "Or worse."

It would be near impossible to tell if she was listening, the mask with the large red circle on her forehead hid her expression, but she did stop when he was talking and looked over her shoulder at him. Pushing off the cage with her legs, she turned in the air to build momentum and thrust the heel of her boot into the back of his head. The kedan whirled around and went to push some distance in between her. But he was off from the blow, stunned and she had a window to work with now.

Dashing in under his arms, the female in the equalist uniform dug her knuckles into his side for a kidney shot and followed through with a strike from her elbow in the same spot. Thick muscles she could work through, it was something she knew rather well. The retaliation was coming and she was ready for it. When his punch came down towards her, she reached under his arm to grab the outside of his wrist and she twisted it so his elbow was exposed to her. Hoisting up her folded arm next to her head, she struck it with her own elbow forcing his arm to bend inwards.

Ignoring his howl of pain, she lashed out a kick straight to his knee to do the same and it brought him down to her level. Putting her hand on the side of his head, she slammed her knee directly onto his ear and only retracted her leg to do it again. And again. Blood was getting on her suit, but she didn’t stop until he went limp and she dropped the unconscious brawler to the floor; trickles of red coming out of his ear.

There was an explosion of sound from the crowd and the spot lights danced around the walls at the victory. Cheers from those that bet on her and jeers from the ones that bet against her.

"Nobody blink! The Green Eyed Monster is on a winning streak!" As the announcer spoke, she gave an expertly executed saifa kata. "Hey, can somebody stop this fighting machine? Anyone who thinks they’re up to the challenge, step in the arena and go for broke!"

This was the first time Korra had a chance to flex her martial arts prowess since learning from some of the greatest Keeliai had to offer, and a great way to blow off steam with the adrenaline that was pumping through her. All anonymously and without any bending.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

They called her the Green Eyed Monster, and she was a monster, all right. The kedan that usually came to fill their lust for blood and money were small fries, gang bangers and drug dealers with skill that didn't always back up their egos. But this girl, this monster, she had something. It isn't hard to see there's training there. Strength. Fire. And as fight after fight is won, Raphael finally sees a challenge.

The gates of the cage swing open, and he pushes forward through the sweat-soaked crush of bodies, grinning like an animal bearing its teeth as he climbs onto the platform.

A weird hush falls over the crowd, just a heartbeat full of nervous murmurs. It's that guy. The one who interrupted that match about a month ago, attacked a man from behind, then pounded another guy's skull into the floor like a psychopath.

Now, a real monster has taken the stage.

Raph hadn't dared to get back on the platform since the thing with Mike, but today, it just felt like his day. Today, he was gonna have some fun. This was just too good to pass up.

The crowd breaks into another a peal of bloodthirsty roaring that shakes its way up through the old warehouse rafters. This was gonna be good.

"Nice moves," he rumbles over the sound, cracking his knuckles, then rolling his neck with a pop. "But playtime's over. Let's see what you really got."

If no one else was going to step in, Korra would have to collect her winnings and call it a night. Juulan wasn’t even the reason she donned a suit she loathed, the fights were all she cared about. When it seemed like no one else was going to step in after they finished hauling out her opponent the lull of the crowd fell and it was practically louder than anything she heard that night.

"Non-stop surprises tonight! The Mean Green Machine is back and taking the challenge. What will happen now? Who will emerge a champion? It’s Green on Green, place your bets and let the madness begin!"

Forbidding herself from speaking or bending, Korra watched Raphael step up through her lightly glowing goggles and had to bite back her tongue. If there was one thing she loved to do it was trash talk, instead she stretched out both her arms and slowly turned them until her elbows popped and assumed her stance.

A quick step forward and she gave three quick jabs that made the fabric of her suit whip in the air, aimed at his throat, face, and chest. They were simple and given without any expectation of doing anything beyond making him react. She needed to gauge him and his style, see how it differed from her own as well as Mike’s and Leo’s.

Once she had a better foothold, then she could start putting that brute strength she displayed earlier to good use.

The jabs fly by him in quick succession, just a breath of interrupted air slicing so close to his skin it gives him goosebumps. Easily, he pulls away, weaves just shy of a grazing blow with barely a tilt of the head. Already, he knows what this is. Like two predators circling in nature, they're sizing each other up, and so far, he likes what he sees.

"Not too bad," he drawls with a feral flash of teeth, staring straight into the mask's glowing, soulless eyes. "You got spunk. I'll give you that." Shifting his stance, he anchors himself to the floor, focuses. "But let me show you how it's done."

Then he lunges, throwing a mean right hook followed quickly with a quick uppercut with the left. Compared to Mike or Leo, his movements are slow, heavy, even sloppy compared to Leo's fine-tuned technique. But his blows carry an explosive amount of brutal force that could break bone and snap sinew without even making him break a sweat.

Being unable to talk, lest she possibly give herself away, Korra ended up paying more attention to Raphael's body language behind the goggles. Those weren't feints or tests, Korra weaved around the first hook and leaned back to avoid the uppercut without losing her footing.

Raph rooted himself and was focusing on his upper body strength. He was setting his parameters and Korra's nature was defiant, her fighting preferences reflected that. Lifting her leg as if to do a front kick, instead angled down to a stomp towards his ankle and she was ready to bring that leg back in with precision to aim for the knee thereafter.

Knock the tree down.

The crowd roaring and the announcer doing play-by-plays were just background noise to her and she was sure it was the same for him. If there's one thing she had learn by hanging around with the turtles so much is that fighting was as much their life as it was hers.

For Raphael, fighting isn't just a way of life, it's in his blood. Natural, like breathing. And for that moment of time, his heart pounding and sweet adrenaline coursing through his veins, the rest of the world stops. The rest is just a blur of noise and sound, reeling around this deadly dance of euphoria and pain. Right now, they're the only two people in the world, and it's not just the fight that matters; it's that she'll lose.

He waits for the front kick that doesn't happen. And when she comes in close, he lets her. Good. She stomps on his ankle, sending pain crackling through his leg. But he ignores it, grits his teeth and he's swinging, his fist headed straight for her eerie masked face with the power of a freight train.

Her boot connecting was easy, too easy. Taking a hit to get one in is a tactic she’s used before, but only when she knew that it could be afforded. When she brought her leg up to work on his knee, she turned just in time to see his fist heading her way. It angered her that Raphael was willing to go that far so early, but she challenged it. Instead of bringing up a block to the punch, an arm throw, or even trying to dodge; Korra braced herself and took the punch straight to the cheek.

The blow was loud inside her head, the pain shot out from the point of contact and spread over her face. Keeping to her self-promise of not saying anything, she clamped her teeth onto each other, the pressure adding to the pulses of pain.

After the split second of stark white that became her vision, the green goggles looked back at Raphael. Despite the blood she felt from where her cheek was forced to cut itself on her teeth and the headache that would rapidly follow, Korra kept her balance.

And she stomped down on his knee without holding back any of the force she had earlier. Not doing a kiai as she did so was a challenge.

If he could only see the hard, menacing look she had on her face, or how she was embracing that revived rush of adrenaline.

When Raphael fights, there's no testing the water. There's no softening the blows, because when Raphael fights, he fights hard, and he fights mean.

Euphoria lights like a fire in his veins when the hit connects, grinning like a maniac even as she kicks out his knee. He loves this stuff. He likes it close, he likes it fierce, he likes it bloody.

It takes him only a half second to regain his balance, planting himself heavily on his buckled knee until he centers his weight, then pivots into a roundhouse kick toward her chest.

Warmth came from where she had taken the heavy handed punch, and she could feel it in her nose; more like coming out of her nose in blood under the mask. Ignoring it, she waits for the retaliation just like what she had suffered. Once he regained his balance, Korra Leaned back so she could catch and hook his ankle in the crook of her arm.

Shifting the weight in her hips for additional force, she let forth a punch towards his shoulder with her free arm. If she could bring her knee up to strike at the exposed back of his knee afterwards, Korra was ready to move into close quarters with elbows and knees.

If this was what Raphael was like when sparring, she'd have to see about getting a few sessions with him at the dojo. She was tired of having to hold back and clearly he had no qualms at all about doing so.

His leg gets caught, but it's far from over. Her punch hits him hard in the shoulder, but as she goes to strike at the back of his knee, he pivots in her hold to face her, pressing his heel deep into the edge of her pelvis and making her grip on his foot too awkward to hold. He uses that leverage to try kicking her away with a powerful shove.

If he can get free, he won't let the gap between them stay widened for long. He'll charge again, even more ferociously than before, with a powerful spin kick to the head meant for a solid KO.

Forced to let go or lose her balance, Korra used the momentum of the shove to flip backwards twice and skid to a stop on her feet with those green goggles trained on Raphael. Korra capitalized on her speed advantage and quickly wheeled about with perfect balance under his kick with a crouching, low roundhouse to his leg for a sweep.

But she knew now how much he could take, that pain threshold was far above her previous opponents. Following through in traditional fashion, Korra kept her spin to bring about a reverse middle roundhouse, and a final spin kick to mirror the one he gave- aimed straight for the head.

She's fast. Fast and brutal as hell as she swoops under his kick and strikes at his leg, making him falter. The second and third are like straight out of a Bruce Lee movie, quick and vicious, one at his gut he manages to partially block, and the second smashing him square in the jaw.

Pain explodes through his brain, making his vision skip, his teeth rattle in his skull. It forces him backward, but he doesn't fall. Crouching like a coiled snake, he spits blood onto the platform floor with his eyes full of venom. All around them, the crowd is going wild. The announcer's frenzied crowing is just a drone inside his head.

"All right," he growls, wiping his mouth on the back of his arm. "No more Mr. Nice Turtle."

It is on.

He charges at her with a series of punches; a hook with the right, a hook with the left. When he comes around for a third, it isn't what he hopes she's expecting, trying to wrap his arm around her neck and pull her into a hold.

She's got the speed, but he's got the strength, and he's more than used to using it to his advantage.

Seeing that blood is a solid reminder of what she agreed to when she decided to participate. Her other opponents could go to the clinic if they got too hurt, but she knew the turtles didn’t really take that option. That was her job, she volunteered for it and later on she’d be mopping the mess they’d become.

But that could be thought about later.

The only thing that she could do after his snarl was make it worse, and since she’s not saying anything, she quickly waved her fingers toward herself. Right then, all that mattered to the audience was who would win the fight; all that mattered to Korra was that she took full advantage of the outlet for her aggression that the fighting ring provided. Even more so now that Raphael was locked in for an actual fight.

Korra batted the first right hand while she leaned away from it, too far though and the left hook catches the right side of her face. Square in the jaw causing to pain burst across her face, the taste of blood flooded her mouth and she was ready to counter his third one-

She was sure he’d return the three that she dealt him.

But it wasn’t another hook, instead a grapple. His arms are thick and rougher than a human’s, and his bicep pressed right into where she was struck making her wince. Asphyxiation wasn’t an option for her, not after being suffocated by Kyle, and she slowed down her breathing. A shoulder choke would be how she would normally counter that hold, but for a turtle; she would need her other arm.

Instead, she moved her leg behind him just under the lowest point of his shell. Planting her feet onto the ground, Korra focused on her hip so that she could flip him over. What the equalist uniform didn’t show was Korra’s physique and she was stronger than she looked

Fighting things without shells always has its advantages. It's part of the reason he freakin' loves having someone to fight that isn't his brother. As she's shifting her footing, Raphael delivers a vicious barrage of punches to her exposed back, tightening his hold on her neck.

Seconds later he can feel her going for a throw, feel the shift in her weight as she finds her leverage. But he's already sworn that he's done playing nice. He has her in his sights, and he's not letting go.

So he pushes back with a terrifying growl, pressing his shell into her. Then in one swift and powerful movement he takes a sliding step backward with his outside foot, bending at the knees and twisting his body down and forward in an attempt to slam her into the ground.

Edited 2014-03-14 22:56 (UTC)

Those punches are brutal and she snarled out what she could after feeling her throat being constricted further. Escaping was becoming more urgent and the possibility of being found out while unconscious had her feeling around to fully understand just how Raphael’s posture is.

When she feels him press into her, Korra hooks her hands onto his elbow and pulls down. Not to escape, but to gain leverage. As soon as he was twisting his body down, Korra lifted her legs off the ground, folding them up and pulling her weight downwards; the small niche of breathing room she gave herself helped with the choke. She was using her own height disadvantage against him and yanking down with both weight and force to slam the crown of his head into the ring.

The way she's grabbed onto his arm, he can't neatly follow through with the throw like he wanted to. Instead he finds himself ducked forward and eating platform with still her clinging to his arm like some kind of monkey.

That's two moves he was sure would end it, only to blow up in his face. Two moves that would've destroyed any of these other lowlife schmucks they've been fighting around here.

Whoever this girl is, she ain't no schmuck. She's giving him one of the best fights of his life, and he's loving it.

But now, as his beak crunches hard into the platform, static sparkling across his vision, a familiar feeling smacks him out of nowhere like a tidal wave. He's starting to get desperate, and he's starting to get angry.

Stamina's never been his strong point. When you're built like a tank, you move like a tank, and after almost ten minutes of fighting, you start getting slower. You start to wear out. And right now, covered in blood and sweat, his chest heaving for air, Raphael's just about reached his endpoint.

He has to end this now or he's going to lose. He can't lose!

So he heaves himself back up to something of a sturdy position, whether he has to take her with him or not, and starts kicking savagely at whatever vulnerable places he can reach.

The instant Korra was free, she rolled away and spun onto her feet; instantly locking back into her fighting stance. The inside of her mask was sticking to her face where the blood on her lips were and she was feeling the throbbing pain pounding into her brain.

Korra was taking just as much of a breather as Raphael was, literally due to the choke hold she was in. But when got up, her gloved hands curled into fists. Now that she was back on her feet, payback was the only thing on her mind. That this was Raphael wasn’t a thing anymore. This was a fight and exactly the one she had been wanting so that way her mind would be distracted from all the insanity that was Kithika and the displacement of her world onto Tu Vishan in Konryu.

All that mattered now was her winning this fight and she waited for the right moment. As much as it hurts, she takes the first kick in her side and a growling groan came from the back of her throat, the only time anything vocal came from her. All so she could set herself up for the next one coming.

Rearing back, her muscles tensed up and she twisted her hip to slam down a hammer fist above the knee she had stomped on earlier just before he could fully bring his leg up for the next kick.

Her other hand reached out to grab his shell and she brought her head back only so she could ram it into his while she yanked him towards him for a barbarous headbutt. Capitalizing on the blow he sustained from her unorthodox escape.

Working on beaten paths made earlier instead of making new ones. Korra was a bruiser and a brute when she had to be, and in her opinion; she never got to be nearly as much as she wanted to.

The blood runs freely now, pouring down the side of his face after her headbutt makes his vision go dark in places. But the heady mix of anger and adrenaline pounding through his veins numbs it to a dull droning in the back of his head. At this point in the fight he's battered, beaten, and almost out of steam, but it's the closest thing to ecstasy he's ever felt. Where all his troubles are crushed out of existence by blood, pain, and the need to win. The need to survive.

This is the reason why he picks fights, why he runs through the rooftop jungles at night looking for trouble. Why he comes to this freakin' den of sin and everything he hates to bust heads until he can't see straight. Because times like these, he's never felt more alive.

He's tired and beaten to hell, but it only pushes him on. And when Korra draws back from the headbutt, even before his eyes clear, he smiles. Just a humorless, blood-smeared and feral bare of the teeth. Then he ducks down, grabs her roughly by the hips, plants his feet, and shoves every ounce of his superior weight and strength into an attempt to push her backward, tackling her with his shoulder in hopes of pinning her against the wall of the cage.

This's his second wind. His last hail Mary pass. It's a sloppy move, but he never did put much value in style.

That headbutt had her vision blurred and her vision went to white before going back to the green tint from her goggles. None of which stopped her from rearing back to deliver another one, that kind of animosity she had only had the chance to throw upon once before and she was eager to let it out again.

But that wasn't what Raphael had in mind.

Feeling herself being dragged backward from his bull rush, unsteady as it was, Korra had a small amount of time to react and her first instinct was to root herself to the ring with her weight, but that wouldn't buy her much time. Taking advantage of the position she was in, Korra raised her fist over her head and she elbowed straight down at the base of Raphael's skull and continued to follow through with that same elbow for a hammer strike on the same spot. The blow rattled through the ulna bone, but she didn't let that stop her from trying hook it under his shoulder. Either to help stop him further, or catch him from hitting the floor.

Pain explodes through the base of his skull like getting hit by a semi. Though something in his brain instantly detaches himself from his body, making everything dull around the edges.

He manages to wrench loose just as he drives her into the cage wall, but he doesn't remember how he did it. It's like someone turned down the volume of the roaring crowd and dimmed the lights. Each one of his senses, one by one, are shutting down. It doesn't even hurt.

When he tries to swing another punch, he throws himself off balance. But his whole body is going numb, and when he goes to correct the mistake, he takes a few stumbling steps backward, blinking rapidly without managing to clear the darkness encroaching on his vision.

The next moment he's flat on his shell, staring up at the warehouse rafters. He doesn't even remember falling.

Stabling herself as best she can once she felt Raphael free himself from her, Korra blinked out both sweat and blood from entering her eye; keeping the other eye opened to be trained on Raphael.

He was a heavy hitter, so she moved back from the wild punch and she had to stop from reaching out to steady him. Pure reflex at the sight of seeing a turtle, the few that had thought of her as family, falling.

While the crowd was dying away for Raphael, it was as if someone yanked out earplugs for Korra and the crushing sound of the crowd, the announcer shouting "What a slobber knocker! That one will go down in fighting history."

The mask was clinging to her face were her blood had dried, she didn’t even know how bad it looked; but seeing Raphael- she could haphazard a guess. When they opened the gate to the cage, Korra walked over in between to stop Raphael from getting dragged off. She didn’t want him to simply be hefted outside after that. Bending down, she put his arm around his shoulder and lifted up with her legs.

It was painful, her body didn’t want to exert itself anymore, but Korra muscled through it anyway. The way she did most things and slowly made her way out, only to be stopped just long enough to have her winnings handed to her.

Something that seemed completely foreign and out of place after what just happened.

Once she was outside, Korra bore the heavy turtle over to an abandoned shed she had been using for the fights. Perfect hiding spot for healing. With a groan, Korra half lowered, half dropped Raphael onto a bare old mattress.

Taking advantage of his unconscious state, she changed from her Equalist uniform into her normal clothes and hid them in a hidden floor trap. She then started running the water from the old water spout. Healing herself first was key in keeping her identity a secret.

Which bugged her because she hated superheroes’ secret identities.

Leaving her covered bruises alone, Korra held the water between her hands and got into seiza to start on Raphael next. All the while, trying to think of an excuse to give him for what he might wake up to.

Flashes of light and color pierce through the knockout haze. First, lying on the floor, looking at the rafters. Then the girl, the one they call the Green Eyed Monster, bending down to help him up. People, blurring together in a whirlwind of faces and hollow noise, ushering them out. Then they're out of the wearhouse, into the cold night. He doesn't remember how he got there, but he must've walked.

There's a moment before they enter the shed, where a sudden burst of panic hits him electric, and he tries to pull away. But nausea churning in his stomach and the drunken dizziness and the raw pounding headache thrumming in his skull has him staggering back for her support.

The next time he tunes in, like adjusting a radio dial, he's in a place he doesn't recognize, laid out on a dirty mattress. Another light of panic rushes through him, sitting up like waking from a nightmare. It's a bad idea. His head gives a murderous sharp throb that almost makes him see stars, that oily sick feeling rising in his stomach.

"Ugh, ow!" He grabs his head on reflex, propping himself up with his other elbow and squinting muzzily as his eyes fail to completely focus. It takes him a second to recognize the person sitting beside him. "...Korra?"

The water stopped glowing the instant Raphael half up and Korra leaned back on instinct, but caught herself so it was only slightly. It seemed like he was actually awake this time and she looked over the little spot she healed.

"Hey. Don't move too quickly, I haven't healed you up that much yet." The old, lit lantern in the corner provided the only light aside from the occasional glow from her healing.

"You always end up in alleyways at the Fire Sector?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and looked from the water to the bruise on his leg. Where she had tried to blow his knee out. Fighting the guilt in order to keep the facade up was one of the hardest things she's ever done.

Awake, but the pounding in his head is making it hard to see or think or do anything but just be.

"Mm... no," he slurs, his own voice ringing painfully in his head enough to make him wince. "Usually I win the fight."

He doesn't care if she knows about the ring or not. At this point he doesn't even care if she tells Leo. And even though he knows it's off and weird that Korra's here now, he doesn't care much about that either. Not even enough to put up a fuss about the whole healing thing.

So he just flops back down with a groan, keeping his hand pressed on his forehead. The pressure helps somehow.

The opportunity to heal Raphael with little hassle was right there for the taking, and Korra did just that. She concentrated on his legs first and the water seeped away the pain so it could work without bothering him, the same method she had become accustomed to using. More so since arriving in Keeliai and working at the clinic, and as the turtles' personal medic.

"I'd hate to see what they look like then." Which was true. She had a chance to look in the dirty mirror to see just how swollen and bruised her cheeks were getting, the blood that mixed in with sweat didn't help anything either.

But that was before she managed to clean herself up to look presentable.

"Just relax and I can get you up and fighting again in no time." Telling Leo was something that she was considering, but all of the can be worked out later. For now, she really wanted to rectify what she had done.

And fight back the urge to compliment him on just how badly he'd let her have it.

"Yeah...," he huffs, pinching his eyes closed. It's a nice feeling where she's working on his knee, but his head. It practically cancels out everything else. "Not like I saw her face."

It was a good fight. It really was, and it left him feeling mostly tired and satisfied despite being beaten the fuck up. But he's still pretty sore about losing. Somehow, he has to find that girl and get a rematch. Next time he has to beat her.

"You seen a girl in some kind of weird costume anywhere? It had green eyes. Goggles, I guess. Called her..." He makes a vague motion with his free hand. "'The Green Eyed Monster'."

He can tell he's slurring, but he's only half-aware of how dumb he sounds. Sometimes good hits to the head can do that, and he had his bell rung pretty damn hard. Though at least that means he's not acting all closed-off and cagey around her. That's probably a first. It's the most he's ever talked to her ever, that's for sure. Up until this moment, he's probably made it seem like he completely hates her.

But Raph knows how much Leo and Mike trust her. He remembers her helping him warm up when he showed back up again. And she healed Mike after he pounded his face in. Without his inhibitions, he knows he can trust her, too.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject