Underground Fighting

    After the awkward silence that struck the crowd with the saiyan titan's rather assertive first impression, an uproar of cheers followed suit. Who was this man? From the look of things, he was nowhere to be seen on the leaflets containing tonight's program. The hype made the cage and ground on which the new contestant's feet were resting on tremble. However, amidst these rowdy fellas reveling at the prospect of a surprise contestant, there was one person who wasn't quite pleased with his display of bravado.

    Indeed, this feline lady could feel her blood boiling as she clenched her fists trembling in anger against her lap. "Who does he think he is? Barging in like that, uninvited, just before my fight..."  She mused, her pointy tufted ears instinctively twitching alongside her brow who she furrowed in reaction to the impromptu challenger's presence. "Well..." Ferrah pried her piercing amber eyes off the small tv affixed right over the dressing room's lockers, darting a glance left and right to assert the reaction of the few other fighters scheduled for tonight. They didn't seem to give much of a damn about the saiyan's intrusion, only sparing the monitor a few seconds of their attention before resuming their banter and business. The snow leopard sneered under her breath with a profuse eye roll. "Tsk, just in for the money... what a bunch of cowards." She was no different from them concerning the pecuniary benefits of brawling, but at least she abided to some key decorum principles; when a bout is unfolding, you stay clear of the goddamn turf. 

    With her convictions ferociously clamoring for her to investigate, Ferrah got up from the bench she's been squatting for the past hour, a sense of relief creeping up her spine since she knew that her hour was near. A quick stop to the janitor closet to retrieve something after caving in a hole with her bare fists where the doorknob just used to be, then she proceeded to the fateful corridor leading to the stage. 

    "What a surprise lady and gentleman! We have a brand new contestant who just stepped in the ring, flinging both The Whip of Mutsedo and The Ogre out of the ring with baffling ease; what a monster! Will anyone dare to step up to this hulking newcomer? Is this the beginning of a new era for our beloved fighting pit? Who kn-" The announcer's invigorating speech was interrupted by a sudden collective gasp from the crowd. 

    "UNCHAINED! UNCHAINED!" The spectators bellowed as one, hammering worker boots and dress shoes alike against the rough concrete below their seats. Spotlights were robbed from Nasu, shifting to the emerging figure that energetically strode from the fighters' entryway toward the arena. 

    "But of course lady and gentleman! Who else got the moxy to do such things than the bone-breaking bitch herself? SHE GOT THE METTLE, SHE GOT THE SPIRIT: ITS FERRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" The crowd's excitement reached a newfound apotheosis who was only further fueled by the following song and Ferrah who strolled down the path to victory with an outstretched arm welcoming the quivering hands of overzealous fans hanging from the utmost limit of the short fence separating their seats from the contestants' passageway. While one of her hands was busy spinning a empty bucket around an extended index, the other swiftly caught a water bottle thrown her way, ripping the cap with her saber teeth before slamming it down her gullet to do one of the crowd's favorite tricks: With a upward tilt of her head, she allowed a geyser of watery mist to escape her pursed lips.

    Ferrah was definitely a crowd pleaser.

    Now both standing before each other, the fit yet curvaceous felid gave him the courtesy of a manic glare accompanied with a gnash of her razor-sharp fangs and a cavernous growl escaping her throat. Despite her obviously feminine appearance, Ferrah was only standing a few inches shorter than Nasu with a shredded hourglass for a figure partially concealed under a classy silver-trimmed purple qipao baring her taut limbs. Aside from her looks, she was manifestly a cut above the rest: Only a few outliers in the arena made it past three digits in Power Level, but Ferrah seemed to be an equal match for the saiyan's suppressed power.

    The gray-furred martial artist discarded her empty water bottle, beckoning the announcer for something with her available hand. Immediately understanding her needs, the man scurried to the stage to hand her his mic with a pronounced bow. Ferrah swiped it off his grasp, thanking him by pulling his cheek. The sharp-dressed announcer's winced with an awkard smile and his brow became sweaty. More fear than harm; Ferrah dismissed him with a gentle smack on his back, then refocused her wrathful countenance on Nasu.

    "SO!" Her body shook with fake mirth. "Hehehe, sorry, pal. I can't help it but feel amused that a douchebag such as you would DARE to knock out one of my next opponents. Yah know, I ain't paid to tuck my fist in your face. This being said, I am willing to make an exception for the honor of the Whip and Ogre who you so impudently bothered." The revolution of the steel bucket around her digit increased in pace, manifesting itself with a sharp whistle of the air caused by the movements of the metallic blur.

    "Honey, you ought to be taught a lil lesson in etiquette. First and foremost: You don't come unannounced to a fight. Surprises of the like are quite nasty." With a brisk motion from the arm holding the microphone, she slammed it on the ground where it imploded in umpteenth shards. Almost immediately, a shrill distortion reverberated from the speakers across the area. Many spectators curled and covered their ears in pain.

    "LIKE THIS!" Ferrah finally parted herself from the spinning bucket by flinging it right toward the saiyan's stern face.


Power Level: 8,000
HP: 20,000/20,000 (250%/250%)

Bare-Knuckle Brawler: 1/1
Trump Card: 2/2 (Light Sparking Only)

KP: 6/6
MP: 1/6 (+1)

WC: 987
   

    Both Ferrah and the crowd were shocked by the shadowy fist that surged out from his own body to bolt toward the cocky snow leopard. Unsure about the properties possessed by this gloomy-looking construct, Nasu's opponent steered clear from what she presumed to be some kind of forsaken magic. With a swift display of grace, she vaulted backward to the opposite side of the arena where she held with her clawed digits onto the wiring that she used to maneuver around like a spider slinking across its web.

    Senses now kickstarted by the saiyan's opening move worked in conjunction with her hectic sprinting on all four across the walls enclosing them to dodge the dusky hand and the bucket, albeit the latter got a good curse of surprise muffled under a feline hiss out of Ferrah due to not being the center of her attention with how that massive grasping fist was still about.


    Amidst heated breaths, she spoke up to address the titan's earlier point. "HAH! You are gravely mistaken, douchebag. While I'd take a fight with money over one without such rewards any day, what really gets my blood boiling is to taste the metallic tang of my own blood; a good, challenging opponent putting me on the ropes..." In a fraction of a second that was discernible to none but Nasu himself, Ferrah halted her sprinting across the fencing by grabbing onto it with both hands to yank herself down against it, her taut-muscled legs squatting along the motion to accumulate momentum that she released with one violent push making the metal under her digitigrade soles snap. 

     
    "HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE I FACED SUCH A WORTHY FOE?" No matter the actual answer, Ferrah felt immensely grateful for the saiyan's presence within the arena tonight. 

    As a token of her appreciation, she gave him all she had right away, catapulting her balled up body toward him with an explosive triple spin followed up by an airborne axe kick aimed right at his shoulder. He could hear it drawing closer, the shrill scream of the air coaxed by a body moving faster than sound. In this occurence, Ferrah's leg who she turned into a deadly bone-busting whip of flesh left unbridled with a blood-curdling roar coming from her visage crinkled with feral wrath.

Power Level: 8,000
HP: 20,000/20,000 (250%/250%)

Bare-Knuckle Brawler: 1/1
Trump Card: 2/2 (Light Sparking Only)

KP: 2/6 (-4)
MP: 3/6 (+2)

WC: 1372 (+385)
OOC: Ferrah uses her "Mach Kick" technique against Nasu, a 70% medium for 4 kp dealing a total of 5600 damage!