Realistic or Modern Great Ganbatte!!!

[Shotgunpenguin]

Connor took quick and measured breaths as he bobbed in place, fists clenched tightly in a guard as he eyed Cassie carefully. She seemed to finally be taking him seriously if her eyes were any indication, but it looked like she had gotten too focused on him. Donavan quickly approached her form behind, dodging an elbow and stepping into her guard, grabbing her by the shoulder and bringing both down to a knee. What followed was a quick and brutal exchange between the two, ending with Donavan throwing Cassie across the floor of the dining room. She was down, but certainly not out as she quickly retaliated, delivering a devastating looking kick straight to Donavan’s back that sent him crashing to the floor. He recovered quickly, but it was clear that the kick had done major damage, both to his back and to his head.

He was bleeding from a cut on his forehead, the blood slowly oozing down towards his eyes as he wiped a knuckle across his brow. A cut like that was going to be bad, not only because the blood would seep into his eyes and affect his vision, but it also gave Cassie a rather big target to focus on. Moving forward, Connor rushed in and cocked back a hook as he approached with a shout, drawing her attention away from Donavan briefly. His first hook was dodged with room to spare, but he wasn’t worried about landing any of his blows right now. He just needed to give Donavan some breathing room.


He continued to throw out wild hooks, each one missing as Cassie backstepped away further and further from Donavan. Each punch was wild and wide, leaving himself open as he continued his pursuit. If she wasn’t winded from Donavan’s assault, she probably could have slipped in a few strikes of her own, but that throw probably knocked the wind out of her. Eventually however, she seemed to catch her breath enough as she swayed backwards, avoiding his hook and lashing out with a kick that caught him just below the knee. He let out a hiss of pain, gritting his teeth and firing off a right straight that missed her cheek by a hair.

Those kicks were dangerous, his leg ached with a dull pain as he narrowly avoided another kick to the same leg by pulling it back. “Gotta get closer. Push into her with everything I have.” He pressed forward, eventually managing to drive his shoulder into her chest. He drew back his left arm and fired off a hook that landed square on her ribs. Two more hooks landed against her body before she was able to push him away, but he wasn’t about to let up. He stepped forward, ready to throw another hook, only to have to dodge at the last second as Cassie threw a punch aimed straight at his nose.

He slipped his head to the side, dodging the punch, only for his eyes to widen as the hand clasped around the back of his neck. Her other hand reached out and found his shoulder, grabbing a fistful of his shirt. “A clinch?” Connor wondered why she would be trying to clinch, from what he’s seen her legs were a lot more powerful than her arms. In a battle of punches, he was sure that he’d come out on top, and he was sure that she knew that too. She needed room to throw her kicks, so why would she be trying to keep him close?

The only warning he got was a sudden manic smile on her face before her knee surged forward, and Connor’s world exploded with pain. Every muscle in his body locked up as his body bent forward, hands coming out to weakly rest on her shoulders as his legs buckled slightly from her ruthless low blow. In the crowd, multiple men let out ‘ooos’ in solidarity for the pain inflicted on their fellow man. Her hold on his neck was quickly released as she stepped to the side and pulled him forward, forcing him to stumble on unsteady legs to keep from falling. She didn’t give him any time to recover, as a powerful kick impacted the back of his legs and sent him toppling backwards.

Connor landed hard on his back, the back of his head cracking painfully against the floor and causing his vision to swim. Lights danced in his vision as he blinked, hands planting on the ground to try and scramble to his feet. He was too slow however as Cassie moved forward, one of her knees slamming into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him and pinning him to the floor. Her fists reared back, coming down and landing three punches that threw his head from side to side before he was able to bring up his guard. Gritting his teeth, Connor brought his arms up in front of his head as she continued to beat down on him from her position on his stomach. All he could do for now was try and weather her blows and hope for an opening.

Condition: 91 -> 49 (Pinned)

Mentions: BakaTheIdiot​

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

Donavan had no choice but to take a moment, and was bracing himself for a coming onslaught. Interestingly, it never came, since before she could even work her way over Connor had swooped in and put himself in between himself and Cassandra's wrath. A stupid decision, maybe, but it helped. In a just a bit, brow freshly wiped, his vision evened out, and Donavan was greeted with the picturesque scene of Connor getting his shit kicked. It must have been bad posturing or something, there was no reason he should be on the ground, pummeled as he was. Still, Donnie had to do something.

Kipsang's hand was still very much outstretched, the glass of whiskey sparkling in the moody lighting. He bypassed the glass and went straight for the bottle: if Cassie wanted a truly nasty fight, then a truly nasty fight she would surely receive.

Meanwhile, Cassandra's adrenaline flared throughout her vessel, coursing through every nerve it could find and steeling herself with sheer anger and strength. This Connor kid put up a decent fight, but she had the upper hand, and was perfectly aware of it. The domain of kicking beatdowns was hers to rule, one she held dominion over with an iron... heel. However, she clearly hadn't learned her lesson, because in the same manner as last time, her flurry was interrupted by a sharp, violent pain in the back of her head, as a two-kilo bottle of liquor crashed against her skull, shattering on impact and drenching her otherwise kept hair in a sticky, foul-smelling whiskey.

She staggered, tripping over Connor before just narrowly managing to regain her balance. It didn't matter. The second between the break in her form and her recomposing was all Donavan needed to exploit. He didn't let up, giving her a shove to break her form once more, before assaulting her torso with frequent adjusted jabs, calculating and recalculating as she desperately tried to block. Donavan's knuckles kept just slipping through her guard, crashing into her ribcage, followed by a full fist contacting her jaw in a flash of pale skin. Her eyes were barely open, forehead just as bloody as Donavan's, and her forearms grew more and more limp with every blow. The oxygen in her lungs continued to escape her as each strike forced her exhales. As if it couldn't get any worse, Donavan gripped her by the nape and collided his right arm with her abdomen, doubling her over. Another swift hook to the cheek, and moments later she was on the floor. Using what strength she could muster, she futilely pulled herself to at least a kneeling position, before a sudden kick from Donavan knocked her onto her back.

He pressed the advantage - literally - kneeling onto her torso, keeping her lungs empty and her back firmly on the ground. Her arms floated upwards in a last gasp of energy, just firm enough to guard her face. The battering of Donavan's knuckles against her already exhausted form was simply too much. Over and over, his fists met her jaw, cheek, forehead, temples, with each strike leaving her further disoriented and unrecognizable; a show of violence just as grotesque as the airport as an entire day's worth of pent up anger and frustration came to bear. When he finally stopped...

Cassandra: 65 -> 17 (pinned) (winded) (head trauma)

17<20 (! CRITICAL !)

D20 rolled (if x-effects < 8: TAP OUT)
Roll: x = 3
Effects: 3
Final Roll: 3 - 3 = 0 < 8
TAP OUT
​

...she simply couldn't take it anymore. Completely spent of resources, energy reserves, and motivation to fight, she knew it was a lost cause. In this state, Donavan clearly held the upper hand, and even if she could escape the pin, the kid had likely recovered by now. Did she really have the second wind necessary to beat down two fighters, let alone one? The answer, to nobody's surprise, was no.

"C'mon, Cass," Donavan huffed, having exerted himself quite intensely to gain this advantage. "This really worth breaking your teeth over? We can still talk like adults-"

In a final act of defiance, Cassandra spat in his face, tainted red from the blood of her cut lip and bloodied facial complexion. "Enough's enough, Richter..." her open palm slapped the ground twice, and with that, a roar of enthusiasm came from the crowd. With her card removed from her pocket, Donavan slipped his prize under his belt for safekeeping, before rising off of her chest and stepping aside. No last gasp of violence, no second wind, no secret plan from Cassandra - an honest, proper submission.

"We square?"

"Not on your life," She hissed.

He wiped his lip before turning away to check on the kid. He was probably still feeling that pain. Two people, garbed completely in medical dress, came with a stretcher and quickly hoisted her upwards and away to the hospital. She surely needed the attention.

"Well kid," He outstretched an arm to help up his battered companion. "Not bad for your first proper competitor. You fought like hell. How you feeling?"

Shotgunpenguin PiePillager

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

Connor continued to grit his teeth as Cassie's fists rained down on him from above, impacting against his guard time and time again. A few managed to slip through and around his arms, rattling his head with each blow. "What should I do? Do I try and punch back? Can I even get any power from this position?"

Another blow slipped around his guard and struck his cheek, sending his head right back into the hard marble floor. It seemed like Cassie was more than happy to try and take him out of the fight before turning her attention back to Donavan. Speaking of, it looked like Cassie was a little too focused on trying to knock him out to notice the man quickly approaching behind her. His savior came in the form of shattering glass and a rain of liquor as Donavan smashed a full bottle of some liquor over the back of Cassie's head, spilling glass and a little bit of the liquor down on Connor's face. He'd seen that stunt done in a those western movies he watched as a kid, but as he later learned, those were done with special bottles that were designed to break. He doubted that was the case here as Cassie almost hit the ground, only to catch herself at the last second.

What followed was..... well it was brutal, less of a fight and more of a one-sided beat down at that point. Donavan fought like a wild animal, falling upon Cassie with a flurry of fists and kicks that swiftly knocked her to the ground. Before she could rise he was already on-top of her, raining down blow after blow against her weak guard. It was honestly hard to watch in his opinion, but that was just him. If anything, It only served to reinforce the fact that he didn't want to face off against Donavan anytime soon. Eventually, the fight ended with Cassie calling a quits, her card quickly swiped by Donavan as he rose off of her and made his way over to the still prone kid.

"I'll be fine, just... need a second." Connor accepted the help up, getting to his feet while one hand came to gently touch the spots where he just knew his face was going to bruise and swell come the afternoon. His bottom lip had split open, and there was a dull ache in his balls from where he'd been brutally kneed, but that seemed to be the extent of his injuries. If the worst he got from the fight was a couple of bruises, a split lip and a lingering pain between his legs, he'd count himself lucky. He spared a look towards their downed opponent, wondering if she was going to be alright. She may have been trying to beat them into the ground mere minutes ago, but he couldn't hold it against her that much.

As he did, he saw two people who looked like EMS staff carry Cassie out of the hotel on a stretcher. Her face looked like a mess, matted with blood from a split lip and bloody nose from their combined assault. Honestly, the three of them probably all looked like messes, caked in sweat, blood and liquor in her case. The crowd slowly started to disperse, the excitement from the fight slowly dying down until all that remained were the people who were already going back to their meals and the small groups that talked excitedly between themselves. He heard the words 'Tickets; Bets; and Girlfriend' thrown around, but couldn't make out much else other than that.

He let out a slight hiss as he touched a particularly tender spot on his face, right below his eye, before looking at Donavan. He paused for a few seconds, just staring at the bruised and battered man, before asking him a question that was on his mind since the fight started. "Alright, I gotta ask. How bad was your breakup for her to pull something like this?"

Mentioned: BakaTheIdiot ​

 

[PiePillager]

"Aaaand the votes are in from the beautiful people voting from home, we got a lotta votes for Cassandra, but...rules is rules people. Y'all know how it is," Fly Flow almost shrugged audibly. "Results don't lie and as we can clearly see-"

"Donovan Richter emerged the winner from this couple's spat! With the assist from Connor Davis! Wise to make alliances this early in the tournament, ain't it, Fly?"

"Absolutely, brother! Nothin' more helpful than someone having your back, but you competitors always gotta keep in mind...there can only be one champ!" The drone cameras began to fly off and with them, the voices of the commentators faded into the distance. "Hold up folks, looks like we got the scoop on another battle brewing over...."

Kipsang looked shaken, mostly due to the fact that he'd handed over some good whiskey unknowingly. "Oh well..." he muttered, shaking his head. "At least the fight was won...."

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

With the adrenaline wearing off, the pain had started to set in. Donavan was probably okay all things considered, but his head hurt like a motherfucker. He would definitely need stitches, at minimum. Thankfully, aside from minor genital torture, Connor was more or less fine. Kipsang hadn't joined in the fight, neither had Rivera, but at least his drinking habits finally came in handy this time. That bottle might have won them the match.

Then came Connor's question. It was a good question, to be fair. What exactly had Donavan done wrong? Looking back on it, they had only been together for a week, at most, and Donavan was still under his father's roof. He had made very clear his timeline of moving, and yet that didn't seem to stop Cassie at the time. Some part of him felt it might've been easier for her if he just let it happen. How much harm could one week together really leave behind? It's not like she was never going to date again after them.

Then again, she held quite the grudge.

"I'm gonna be honest with you, kid," He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I don't even know where to begin."

Yeah, that sounded right.

Spoiler: Meanwhile, Somewhere in Vancouver

"Did I miss it?" A man called from downstairs.

"You're just in time! They're starting the highlight reel!" A woman answered, a roughly six-year-old girl fast asleep beside her. Hurried footsteps clattered down the staircase as a stubbled man, likely early 30's, threw himself upon the couch alongside his family. A grin spread across his face as the broadcast kicked into gear.

"...and I've just gotta say, Mason, the clips from Guss and Fly just paint a complete picture, don't they? It was brutal in day 2 of the Great Ganbatte! Our very own Richter coming snuggly into 15th place after that last match. Good assists from Davis, leg form needed some work, but I don't think our fellow Canadian could've done it without him."

"Absolutely, Ed. If he's watching from lovely Ecuador, Donavan, you should definitely get that looked at!"

"Right, for our viewers just tuning in, we're here for post match analysis just getting new clips from our brothers down South. Strong opening salvo from Le'Garde, definitely keeping the newcomer on his toes and creating an uncomfortable space for the two. Good distraction from Davis..."

The anchors rambled on, analyzing and justifying, busting out the stereotypical yellow markers and highlighters to paint the screen with ring match technobabble. It was mostly for show, after all the only real purpose of the clips was to give the viewers who missed out a second chance to catch the action. As if the entire fight wasn't already sprawling across the internet.

"Hey," the woman extended a pointer finger at the screen. "He seems really familiar, the scruffy one-"

"...huh. He does, you're right," the man leaned forward, squinted slightly, before his eyes widened in shocking realization.

"Holy SHIT!" He soared to his feet. "That's my baby brother!!"

Donavan glanced around, the air becoming significantly less stuffy with the crowd gone. It was a damn mess, the poor hotel, but surely the organizers were paying off everyone in sight. Some cleaning lady was having the time of her life raking in those checks. One issue remained.

"Where's Rivera?"

PiePillager Shotgunpenguin obscured_light

 

[DarKnight36]

Rivera's eyes were on the match even as her conversations on the phone were on a different matter entirely. Helping Connor with random jackasses was an entirely different matter than helping Donavan with his ex. Not interfering in past relationships was a rule Rivera had stuck with for years and she wasn't going to break it for a guy she had met mere days ago, notwithstanding their past interactions.

Still, she watched, hovered at the front of the wall of people that now surrounded the competitors. One hand held her cellphone but the other stayed at her side even as she strained to catch the words of rejection she received. She kept constantly shifting her weight from one leg to another as she looked for the number of one last contact. Her muscles tensed when she saw the guys getting smacked and she made a step forward when Donavan began to bleed.

A voice answered though. Rivera stepped back. Would it be disrespectful to enter the match now? Rivera's thoughts scattered when the voice began trying to get her attention. One last try.

"Trent!" Rivera said loudly, trying to make sure she was heard over the roar of the crowd. "Hey, you wouldn't happen to know how to take a giant crocodile out, would you?"

"Ah, Rivera!" Trent's smooth, calm voice was crystal clear over the phone. "I haven't heard from you in some time. A giant crocodile?" Trent hummed for a second; if he was surprised by the question, his tone didn't show it at all. "I believe I would have the wherewithal to fight one and win. Why do you ask?"

 

[obscured_light]

Rivera hadn’t wanted to leave but it was hard to be heard over the roar of the crowd. Just as the fight was gaining momentum, announcers hyping the fight up, she told Trent to hold on for just a moment. Turning to some of the people recording nearby, she uttered a few words and flashed a few bills in her hand. The people looked skeptical but nodded as she pointed in a direction and then made her way through the crowd in that same direction.

Her excuse to stay out of the fight may have had unusual timing but as unpredictable as the fights and opponents could be, the fact remained that this was a tournament they were all competing in. Time was of the essence and the faster they could secure their options, the more room Rivera felt they would have to breathe. It was just a shame her other reason for staying out of the fight couldn’t be done in person. Not that Donavan and Connor seemed particularly opposed to fighting at every available opportunity.

Across the street, back pressed against the shop behind her, Rivera chose to stay and talk. It was far off enough that the crowd was still visible but not heard as loudly.

“Sorry about that,” she said apologetically as she resumed her conversation with Trent. “I was asking because I’m in a bit of an unusual situation. Have you heard of Great Ganbatte?”

“I have indeed,” came the reply. “I’m actually a participant, although I’ve only fought two fights so far. Wait, don’t tell me a real-live crocodile is a contender?”

Trent actually sounded excited as he quickly continued, not leaving room for Rivera to comment for a few moments. “I’ve battled a lot of things, but a crocodile would be something new. Does it know martial arts? What style does it fight in? What size is it?”

Rivera paused. She didn’t remember seeing his name on the list of competitors.

“...You always were quick,” Rivera said with a laugh.

“Not really that quick,” Trent said, sounding a little stiff for a moment. It was strange to hear that in his voice. “I was a late entry. My first fight was to replace another fighter.”

Rivera raised an eyebrow, “I meant quick on picking up the croc was in the competition.”

“But we can talk about that later,” Rivera sighed. “One problem at a time. First being that I didn’t see the crocodile myself. I formed an alliance with a few other of the competitors here. One of them saw it in person so he can tell you more about it than me. You wouldn’t happen to be around… uh…” Rivera had spaced the name of the hotel.

“Indeed I am!” Trent exclaimed happily, hanging up the phone. A few moments later, a tap came on Rivera’s shoulder.

“Never fear! I am here!” Trent burst out, striking a pose similar to a popular manga character. “What’s up my dear Rivera? You look well.”

Rivera sprung back, dropping her phone in the process. Shock was clear upon her face before it turned to more of an annoyed grimace.

“I see you haven’t changed,” she grumbled as she reached down to grab her phone, thankful for the extra thick case she had purchased a few months ago.

“Ah well, it was just a happy coincidence I will admit,” Trent said, scratching his head with a slight grin. The man himself was tall, with blonde hair and hazel eyes. “I happened to see you in the crowd as I watched the fight. Quite the show I will say.”

His grin turned a little darker for a moment before fading. “So, allies? Strange to have allies in a tournament. Although I suspect you are not alone in gathering friends to your side. This is a dangerous place after all. Our hosts are rather… infamous for that.”

“From my research, it certainly seems so,” Rivera agreed, crossing her arms over her chest as she pretended to look upset, “Though you would have gotten more of a show if you had told me you were around!”

She grinned and let her arms fall to her sides. “My friends were actually in the fight. The one with the ex is the one you want to talk to but before that…”

Rivera held her hand out to Trent with a broad grin.

“You wanna join our little ragtag group? We can fight alongside each other like in the old days. I mean, Darius and Bella aren’t here but this should only be a temporary thing anyway.”

Trent stared at Rivera’s hand for several seconds, before raising his gaze to look at Rivera. It had been years since they’d seen each other, but Rivera could tell something was… off. The two had relied on each other as children, and even now, he felt like family.

Trent took Rivera’s hand with a smile. “Yes. That sounds great. Let’s fight together like the old days.”

So why did those words send a shiver down her spine?

A shadow of doubt passed over Rivera’s face but if she had any suspicions or worries, she didn’t say. Instead, she shook his hand a little too firmly, and then gestured to where the crowd had begun to disperse.

“Seems the fight is over,” she said, “We should go see how much damage they’ve done and properly introduce you to the gang.”

Rivera led the way back to where the others were waiting, Trent a few paces behind.

“Connor! Donavan!” Rivera shouted, waving at the two who clearly didn’t escape the fight unscathed. “You two alright?”

 

[PiePillager]

"They're fine....but my whiskey..." Kipsang sobbed, cradling the remnants of the whiskey bottle in his hands as if he were holding onto a loved one that had died. He climbed onto a swivel chair and held his hands out toward Rivera so that she may get a better look at his loss. Before he got a chance several people rushed past him, causing the chair to rapidly spin. Perhaps it was good that he was little sober, otherwise he may have had to hurl.

There were two women in suits and sunglasses. Both had lapel badges on their shoulders, indicating them as Ganbatte staff. Both of them extended a hand towards Donavan and Connor, respectively. "¡Hola!" a brunette haired one greeted, her accent heavy. "You are the winners of the last televised bout, yes?"

"Would you two be interested in an interview this afternoon?" the other inquired.

Shotgunpenguin BakaTheIdiot obscured_light

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

With the hotel now as quiet as it was going to get, Donavan glanced over to the windows to see if any cops were coming. It was silly, he knew nobody was going to arrest him, just a force of habit from his occupation. What he did see, though, lingered a bit longer than he would've liked - and that was his reflection. There was nothing wrong with it, per se, but it was bloodied, both his and Cassandra's. He looked like a proper psychopath.

He pulled one of the fabric napkins off of a nearby table, dumped some of the iced drinking water onto it and tried to wash some of the grime off his face. It didn't work terribly well, and he would still need a shower for sure - and, perhaps, a trip to the clinic to patch up that gash in his forehead - but at least he didn't look like he had killed someone. He hadn't, but that was beside the point.

Clearly, smashing that precious whiskey was leaving a very distraught Kipsang in all five stages of grief at once. It was a bit ridiculous, really, considering the cabinet for drinks was just "right there" a few feet away. It didn't matter. Rivera had returned in earnest, and brought a guest in tow too. He didn't recognize the guy, but if Rivera wanted to win it made no sense to bring a faker. He'd just have to take her at her word.

When she asked how it went, Donavan tried to respond before being approached by... news anchors? Journalists? Some people in suits. They seemed friendly, or at least not immediately dangerous, but at the ask of an interview, he knew it was time to peace out. Part of how he stayed out of trouble up in the North was never sticking around for the accolades, and only taking his check. This, conveniently, managed to completely eclipse the fact that Donavan was deathly afraid of public speaking, even for interviews. Being recorded was one thing - he didn't have to talk during a fight. He probably couldn't escape every interview to be had here, but he had a convenient scapegoat this time...

"...hey Kid, you wrap up here, we'll meet you back at the room. Rivera's gonna introduce me to our new friend."

Sure, it was rude, but Connor wanted to be a professional, didn't he? And he stepped away, leaving Connor to the suits. Who knows, maybe the kid was photogenic.

"To answer your question, we handled it," Donavan crossed his arms. "...took some doing, but we got it done. Now, you gonna keep me waiting on who the new guy is?"

obscured_light Shotgunpenguin PiePillager

 

[DarKnight36]

"It was an entertaining fight!" Trent smiled. "Certainly worthy of a Ganbatte participant. You made a few mistakes but your endurance carried you through. Hell of a finish."

"Oh," Trent said, grimacing. "Sorry. The name's Trent. A late entrant myself, but you know, better late than never." He chuckled. "Anyway, I heard you were having some trouble dealing with a cold-blooded fighter. Perhaps I can be of some help?"

obscured_light Shotgunpenguin PiePillager BakaTheIdiot

 

[obscured_light]

Ignoring Kipsang's lament over wasted whiskey, Rivera looked conflicted on leaving Connor to deal with the press. He and Donavan looked like they had gone through a hellish fight and interviews could be a fight of their own. The crowd could be on their side now but knowing the organizers of the tournament weren't exactly playing on fair terms, careful editing could turn the tide against them...

"Connor, don't take too long. We got important prep that needs to be done," Rivera said to him as she and Trent went over to talk to Donavan. "C'mon Kipsang, there's more whiskey nearby."

There had been witnesses and plenty of footage, including her own. Perhaps she was just overthinking but her words to Connor were meant to be an out regardless.

"I told him the gist of the situation," Rivera said to Donavan before looking like she was going to say something else, only to go quiet for a moment. Trent would have noticed the brief hesitant look towards him but Rivera pressed on, "I've known him since we were kids so I can vouch for his fighting skills. His brain, not so much."

She snickered.

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

“Yeah, we’re….” Connor paused, looking at Donavn. There was quite a bit of blood on his face, and that cut was still bleeding pretty noticeably. “Well, we’re still in the tournament.” There was that at least, and hey, it looked like Rivera brought someone along. He didn’t recognize the man, which made sense considering that he’d known Rivera for all of a day at most; but if she had brought him over she must have known what she was doing.

Before he could introduce himself to the guy, two women dressed in expensive looking suits approached him and Donavan. At the mention of an interview, he couldn’t help but tense up, a nervous smile forming on his face. Public speaking was never anything he was good at, and that was in front of a group of classmates that he saw every day. But maybe it’d be okay, Donavan seemed like the type of person who was used to things like this. Maybe he could take the lead and deal with most of the questions, their opponent was his ex after all.

“Huh?” Connor turned to Donavan, his face a mix between confusion and horror as the man left him to deal with the suited women. “W-wait-“ He tried to call out, but was cut off as the two women stepped in between him and Donavan. They seemed eager for his response, and his eyes desperately shot over to Rivera in a silent plea for help.

Only for her to also leave him to his fate, telling him not to take too long before returning to her own conversation with Donavan and the newcomer. “Huh?!” His face shifted; the confusion being replaced by a look of pure panic as he wildly looked towards the last member of their little group.

Maybe Kipsang could- Okay yeah scratch that, the man was currently acting as if he had just watched the love of his life pass away in his arms. He really could have used some advice, some sort of support or even a distraction, but he doubted that the old man would be much of a help in his current grief stricken state. Wait, old man- of course! His dad had done a few interviews back when he was still an active boxer. All he had to do was try and remember what his dad would say if he were in his position.

”Okay, think Connor. What would dad say if he were here right now?”

Connor thought hard, conjuring a mental image of his father by his side. The image slowly reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder, before screaming “CONNOR THE SECOND YOU GET BACK HOME YOUR MOTHER AND I ARE GOING TO KILL YOU!”

Connor flinched, dismissing the mental image with a shake of his head. “Okay, that really didn’t help as much as I hoped it would.”

Okay, okay he could do this. It was only an interview. An interview that would be broadcasted on live, national television and seen by millions of people all over the world. An interview about a fight where he pretty much got his ass kicked and had to be bailed out by someone else. Connor forced a smile as he spoke, standing ramrod straight and eyes bouncing between the two women in front of him. “Uh, yes! Yes, I- I mean we, definitely we, Donavan and I, would be interested in an interview.” Connor nervously reached out and took each of the women’s hands with his own, awkwardly shaking them up and down. “W-w-where is it going to be?”

Mentions: BakaTheIdiot obscured_light PiePillager DarKnight36​

 

[PiePillager]

Looking dejected over his loss of alcohol, Kipsang, looked up to greet the newcomer. "Trent you say?" he put a finger to his chin to see if he'd heard of the name before. "Have you participated in a past tournament, by any chance?" he inquired.

Meanwhile one of the usited women chipperly explained "There's a conference room, right here in the hotel. We're going to have the staff clear it out and conduct the interview there in about..." she glanced at her watch. "Three minutes if that's okay with you! I know it's not very long to prepare but we've got a lot of ground to cover today! Word is there's going to be a major brawl," she confided in an excited whisper.

 

[DarKnight36]

Trent smiled at Kipsang. "Not the Great Ganbatte, no. I have dabbled in other, smaller fighting rings. Nothing serious though."

He glanced at Connor as the reporters cornered him into an interview.

"Connor, wasn't it? Keep it short and be confident is my advice. The longer one speaks, the more one tends to seem a fool in my experience," Trent offered to the man. "No need to clean up too much. Showing you took a few hits and are still standing will make you seem tougher to the audience."

He turned to Donovan and Rivera. "So, what's the plan friends? Since you couldn't bring yourself to vouch for my brain Rivera, I suppose I'll have to prove myself somehow!" He laughed.

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

At least they had a new ally.

At a glance, this Trent fellow didn't have that much of a... chemist vibe to him. Didn't chemists have those outrageously white lab coats? Or were they the hazmat suits? Or did Donavan just watch too much breaking bad? It was probably the last one. Still, if Rivera trusted this guy, he didn't have too many options to the contrary, and given their current circumstances, he was in no position to argue.

As for the advice to Connor... well, it couldn't be worse than anything Donavan would suggest.

"Well, any friend of Rivera's is at least an ally of mine. If you can knock out a killer croc, we can get a place for you," Donavan shrugged, before offering a small grin. "Our plan is stupid. Insane, even, but unless you're in the mood to wrestle a thousand-pound amphibian it's... well, it's a plan. I don't know about the best one we've got. We lure him out in the open, and stick him with a bunch of tranquilizers."

That was a brand new sentence. Didn't change the fact that it was true.

"You in?"

DarKnight36 obscured_light PiePillager

 

[DarKnight36]

"Tranquilizers? No, that wouldn't be near as helpful," Trent said, frowning, before clearing his throat. "Er, what I mean is, I'm confident in my ability to battle the creature and come out the victor. I have some experience with... things of this nature."

 

[obscured_light]

"This dude's known for his penchant for fighting anything, anywhere, at any time," Rivera said as she clapped a hand on Trent's shoulder. "I couldn't get anyone with any sort of scientific background but I figured we could brute force it. It's a fighting tournament after all!"

She grinned, seemingly excited at the idea of solving everything with violence. The serious demeanor of hers lessened and she seemed a bit more relaxed with Trent around. The rigid, upright manner she often held herself in was slouched slightly, shoulders down. A familiar face helped in such turbulent waves of the tournament's unexpected turns.

"I'll let you two chat about it, I'm gonna go help Connor out a bit."

She punched Trent in the arm before heading back to Connor, calling to him, "Don't worry. If you get stuck, I got you. I have a bit of experience dealing with the press."

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

“T-three minutes!? That soon?!” Connor balked at the suddenness of the interview. He was hoping that he would have time to regroup and get some sort of idea on what he should say. But it looked like that was out of the question, especially since Donavan seemed to want to do the interview even less than he did. But it wasn’t like he could back out now, he had already agreed to it like an idiot.

He spared another glance towards his group, who currently seemed to be talking about how to deal with their Bek problem. While Connor appreciated that they were thinking about the bigger picture, he really could have used some sort of support here. At the very least the new guy that Rivera brought had offered some advice, so that already earned him some points in Connor’s book. Thankfully, whatever decision they came upon was good enough for Rivera to break away from the group, offering her aid in the coming interview.

“Oh thank god. Please, you gotta come with me, I have no idea what to even say.” He whispered to Rivera, nervously glancing at the two organization members. “What if they ask me about Bek? What am I supposed to do, just act dumb?”

Mentions: BakaTheIdiot obscured_light PiePillager DarKnight36​

 

[obscured_light]

"I mean, yeah," Rivera shrugged with a helpless smile. "I'm not sure how telling everyone a competitor is a stand in for a giant reptile is going to go without any proof."

Her eyes widened slightly as a thought came to her. She placed a hand on her chin, mulling the idea over.

"...Unless they already fought him," she whispered out loud, mindful of the reporters nearby. She tried to recall if any of the competitors that had lost against Bek had returned but Rivera had little confidence in that idea. She doubted anyone who had lost a match against the crocodile would have been left in a state to spread what they knew. Their own group was lucky enough to have escaped to begin with.

"Yeah, just pretend you don't know much other than what everyone's been saying," Rivera shook her head. "We need to keep this to ourselves till we got some sort of proof or we make Bek lose."

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

The new guy wasn't a chemist, or a pharmacist, or a hunter, or Crocodile Dundy. He was just a regular guy, like the rest of the gang. Donavan really, really wanted to be sure that trusting Rivera was a good idea on this, and it wasn't exactly promising.

We're dead.

"Hey, if you wanna tango with a croc, be my guest," He raised his hands in apathy. "Biggest person I ever fought was only a good bit bigger than me, not several times my weight. What do I know?" His phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it. "What do you mean, experience? Do you spend your free time wrestling natures nastiest beasties, or something?"

DarKnight36 obscured_light

 

[PiePillager]

Kipsang scratched his chin in thought for a moment. "Well, you know what I always say!" he began before proceeding to mention something he'd never previously stated, "The more, the merrier! At least until the competition thins out." He chuckled.
***
The two women, true to their word had already begun to drag off Connor and now Rivera into the hotel's conference room, insistent on getting the interview underway, as they were under a time crunch. In it, there were multiple, comfortable-looking chairs set up, as well as a cameraman and trays of various snacks such as fruits and donuts.

"Okay, first question! It's not unusual for fighters to form alliances in these early stages of the tournament, but it is rare to see a group so close-knit? What was it that brought you together? Do the five of you have a history together prior to the tournament? What link do you have with the legendary layabout Edmond Kipsang? I'd heard you mentioned Bek? Have you actually fought against that mysterious fighter and lived to tell the tale?" she rattled off, asking far more than one question, shoving the mic in Connor and Rivera's faces. "The viewers at home are waiting with bated breath!"

Shotgunpenguin obscured_light BakaTheIdiot DarKnight36

 

[Shotgunpenguin]

The two of them were practically dragged into the conference room, with the two organization members placing them next to each other before checking with the cameraman. As soon as he gave the go-ahead, they began to bombard Rivera and him with questions, as if they wanted to ask as many as they could in such a short time.

Connor swallowed and placed his hands on his knees, a thin and strained smile on his face as his eyes drifted between the women and the cameraman. Okay, he could do this, all he needed to do was stay calm and not make a complete idiot out of himself. Easy, right?

“Well, we haven’t been a group for all that long actually. Until yesterday, I didn’t know any of them. We all met up after that guy-” Connor winced and cut himself off. He had no idea whether the mafia had covered up the incident last night, so bringing up the specifics was probably a bad idea.

“-After that commotion last night. We started talking, and eventually we all agreed to keep an eye out for each other. At least, until later in the tournament. Glad we did too, since I needed it right after” Connor paused, reaching out and grabbing one of the donuts and taking a bite. It was slow, but he was beginning to relax in the chair, the knots in his stomach slowly unraveling.

“I.. got into a brawl with some people, not competitors.” He added, in case they asked with who. “I bit off more than I could chew, and everyone joined in to bail me out. I got blindsided by one of them though, was not pretty, he threw something in my eyes and bolted. Everyone made sure I got back to my hotel, helped me get the crap out of my eyes, and I offered to let them stay the night.”

“And as far as Kipsang, I feel bad for saying this, but when I first met him I kind of thought that he was just a drunk homeless guy. Had no idea he was even competing, or that he was some sort of legend.” Connor offered a silent apology to the man, even if he still kind of felt that way. Seriously, it felt like the man was either constantly with a bottle in his hand, or somehow pulling one out of thin air.

Of course, now that all of the other questions were out of the way, it was time to address the crocodile in the room. Connor didn’t really know what to say to the women, or whether he should say anything at all. Rivera told him that it would be best to play dumb, act like he hadn’t heard anything other than what everyone else knew.

The knots in his stomach started to return as he gave a nervous glance at Rivera. She did say that she was there to help, and she seemed like she’d do a way better job than he would at dancing around the issue.

“Y-you know, I think Rivera can give you a better idea on Bek. R-Rivera?” He motioned for her to take the question, the thin smile on his face becoming slightly forced.

Mentions: obscured_light PiePillager​

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

His phone buzzed again. Once again, he declined. "Actually, don't answer that. I just... let you do your thing. I'm a street fighter, not a wrestler." His phone buzzed once more, persisting into his conversation. "Uhh, give me a second-" and he stepped away.

Donavan fumbled in his pocket, narrowly avoiding the call as it went to voicemail once more. 19 missed calls sat in his log, several voice mails, text messages, even an email - which he couldn't read, on account of his ancient technology - almost all of them from his handler. Cursing quietly, he clicked the green button and waited.

And waited. A click, and soon he was met with an extremely displeased Bella.

"There you are, you asshole! I've been trying to get a hold of you for an hour!"

"I was busy! Haven't you been watching the tournament?"

"I have! That's exactly why I was calling, making sure you didn't get merc'd by some suit shortly after! You've really fucked up this time, D, we shouldn't be here!"

"What are you talking about? We do this for a living."

"And what's more, you threw a hatchling into the ring with your psycho ex, Donavan are you fucking insane?! We have a code!"

"Hey, that part wasn't my fault, and he got off fine! He's cruising with the cameras right now. Sure he's doing great."

"Okay, fine, whatever. Look, none of that matters, you need to pull the plug on this absolutely batshit stunt. There's rumors the Chilsung-pa are coming to get your ass, Donnie."

"Hey, I thought I left them on good terms, what the fuck?"

From a distance, he must've looked like a madman, rambling into his phone with a hushed anger, barely a whisper. His hands flew erratically, his palm met his face on multiple occasions, all with an ushering for his call to end. Needless to say, it just kept on going.

"Do you even hear me right now, D? These people aren't messing around, they're going to fucking kill you!"

"That's like the 3rd time you've told me that and every time so far has been false," He gave a dry laugh. "I'm not afraid of some Korean mafioso wannabes-"

"The whole fucking deal rested on you staying off the screens, and now your face is splattered all across TV! You got away with it last time because they weren't close ups, but D, they know it's you! If they even think that you talked-"

"I didn't say shit."

"That doesn't matter, you moron! They can't afford to take that chance!"

"...Fuck," Donavan hissed, punching the air, "Okay, how long do you think I have?"

"Donnie you needed to be gone, like, yesterday. All I have are rumors and they might not even be true. You've got days, at most. These people could even be in bed with the Ganbatte organizers, or worse-"

"Bella-"

"I know how much this means to you Donavan but I promise, no amount of clout is worth getting gutted over, you need to come back home. We can bring up an old safehouse-"

Donavan quickly checked his surroundings, moving even further away from the lobby and his new teammate.

"I can't! That's what I've been trying to tell you! They're onto me, the organizers, and they're trying to shut us up, even if that means killing us," Donavan's voice was as quiet as could be managed, with the panic and frustration boiling in his blood. "Look, I fucked up, okay? But I literally have no way out, so like it or not I'm in this thing til' the end. If I dip now, they could just shoot me in the back on the way out. The cameras might be my only safe spot. They won't chance witnesses."

For a moment, there was no hasty rebuttal from his handler.

"I hope you're right, D. Please don't do anything stupid."

"I'm sorry to disappoint in advance," He chuckled.

"One more thing, Tommy's blowing up my phone trying to reach you. Should I just tell him the usual?"

"Really? He must've seen the broadcast... yeah. Tell him we're still not on speaking terms."

"Usual it is. And Donavan-" She paused. "...don't die."

The call ended. His phone returned to his pocket. One last glance confirmed nobody was watching, or at least that nobody could hear him, and his foot collided with a trashcan, rattling it loudly as he unleashed his frustration. "Fuck!!" His hands gripped the back of his head, as he paced around. He had really made a mess of things this time, and now it looked like there was no way out. A vendetta, three years in the making, all praying on a single slip up - and he just delivered it on a silver platter. Between the Ganbatte organizers, the Kkangpae, and the other competitors, it really felt like the walls were closing in on him. He was well and truly trapped.

What do I do?

He couldn't let them know, not like this. If he jeopardized his only alliance now, he would really be out of friends to count on, and that would be curtains for him. Every second he was around people meant one more second the Koreans weren't plotting to kill him. More than friends, he needed witnesses - and if he had witnesses, he was safe. For now. He would have to drop the lone wolf bullshit. He would have to really start working with the team. Playing both sides wasn't going to work this time, right now he needed assurances - and to do that, he needed to stick with Connor, Rivera, and the Old Man.

Which brought him back to Trent.

"Right, sorry about that," Donavna made his way back to the initiated teammate, crossing his arms again. "Some family shenanigans. Where were we?"

DarKnight36 obscured_light Shotgunpenguin PiePillager

 

[DarKnight36]

"No problem," Trent said with a friendly smile. "So... where do you two suspect the croc is hiding out?"

 

[obscured_light]

The kid was too honest sometimes. Rivera wanted to cut in a couple times but with the laundry list of questions the reporters had asked, there wasn't really a good moment too. She would give him some pointers later on choosing his words more carefully but none of it was necessarily bad. Could have been just a bit better though. Every question was being answered, every single one, except the two toughest questions. Connor turned to her with a forced smile.

Her turn.

"Our little group has certainly been in contact with the famous Bek," Rivera said with a bright smile. "A lot of fists have been flying in this tournament so it's hard not to come across some of the top competitors. However, a competitor like him deserves a large stage, don't you think? I know a lot of people would absolutely kill at a chance to see Bek fight so we're saving the best for last. We may be adults but sometimes dessert really does taste better after a good meal."