Sore Loser? Me? Never... Engar, Hold out yer hand cus...

Scruffie

S
Guest
... I'm about to hand you your ass.

I challenge you to FIght Club, and this time, it's gonna be done right.

Hey, I request a special Ref for this match. Prozac really wants to watch me kick Engars ass, so could you let him Ref this one?
 
New Member
Retired Forum Staff
Joined
Jan 6, 2002
Messages
674
Best answers
0
I was hoping this could be settled peacefully, but sometimes an ass must be kicked before things are put to rest. I have no objections to the special ref nor any preference to the terrain of the fight.

I'm ready for this Scruff; how about you? ;)
 
Active Member
✔️ HL Verified
🚂 Steam Linked
💻 Oldtimer
Joined
Sep 23, 2002
Messages
1,876
Best answers
0
Location
Fryslân Boppe! The Netherlands
Yes, I shall judge this fight as best I can.

Location: The depths of hell, on a plateau, surrounded by molten Lava

Enjoy, and let the trash talking start

[edit]
1. Both fighters have agreed, no weapons will be used

2. tnx for the trust cucumba
[/edit]
 
Live free or die by the sword
Retired Forum Staff
✔️ HL Verified
💻 Oldtimer
Joined
Dec 1, 2001
Messages
7,416
Best answers
0
Location
North East Pennsylvania
Scruffie said:
... I'm about to hand you your ass.

I challenge you to FIght Club, and this time, it's gonna be done right.

Hey, I request a special Ref for this match. Prozac really wants to watch me kick Engars ass, so could you let him Ref this one?
You feel I officiated the match unfairly? o_O

I will allow Prozac to referee this fight, pending on his performance, he may become a full time referee.
 

Scruffie

S
Guest
I don't know what happended before, but I'm sure as hell not gonna let it happen again.

You might have gotten lucky, maybe it was a bad day for me, I don't know and I don't care. What I do know is that you're going down, down in the firey pits of hell itself.

I request that we use no weapons, only our fists, and our brains.

And no, Cucumba, I don't think you judged unfairly, it's just Prozac really wanted to judge this one. :)
 
New Member
Retired Forum Staff
Joined
Jan 6, 2002
Messages
674
Best answers
0
Scruffie, I never would have put you as a sore loser. You thought you were sad when you lost the first time, you thought you saw me go all out? Friend, you aint seen nothing yet.

Engar's unbarred this time and all Hell's gonna break loose!

(Now thats smack-talk!)
 

Scruffie

S
Guest
He had lost it. He had lost that which made him special. He had lost the Scruff.

It all began when he fought Engar in Fight Club. That is also where it all ended. Engar had beaten him, and Scruffie couldn’t face himself in the mirror anymore. He was a shadow of his former self, his confidence torn, and his life devoid of any meaning.

Finally he decided to find himself, to fight the ultimate evil for the right to live as he once had before, to be allowed back the soul he had lost in battle.

He quested deep into the bowels of Hell for this.

Scruffie fought through hoards of the undead, defeated many lost souls, until finally, after days of fighting and killing, he found what he was looking for.

He had ended up on a small plateau at the centre of Hell, surrounded by molten rock, and facing the most powerful evil known to man.

“What is it you seek, mortal? Do you seek riches? Power? Immortality? Speak now, or face eternal damnation.” Spoke Satan, his bodiless voice booming throughout the large cavern.

“Yeah, yeah, your eternal damnation bull**** doesn’t scare me. Not anymore anyway, since I’ve faced and beaten everything you have to offer.” He crossed his arms. “But yeah, I do want something. I want to face the toughest challenge you’ve got, for something I consider pretty valuable, my soul. I win; I walk out of here with my soul, and the knowledge that nothing can beat me. You win… well, it’s up to you what happens to me, isn’t it?”

“Very well, impudent one.” Scruffie laughed at the comment. “You will fight one who has bested you before, and shall best you again.” Scruffie smile faded, and his eyebrow rose slowly. “Engar.”

“What! If I wanted to fight him, I’d just have asked him myself--!” Scruffie was cut off, as he could no longer speak.

“Silence! My word is final. You shall fight him, but without these things of human construction.” His weapons disappeared, and Engar materialised behind him, looking meaner than ever. His face contorted into an evil smile as Scruffie turned round.

“Well well, look who’s here to challenge me. If it isn’t Scruffie.” He started to walk towards Scruffie, as Satan’s cackle faded into nothingness.

“No…”

“Thought you could beat me, eh? Is that it?” He was a few feet away, and Scruffie started to back off. This was the scene that haunted his nightmares; the thing of his destruction back for more. “Well I’ve got news for you Scruff…” He was inches away, and Scruffie had backed up against the edge of the plateau, beneath him was a deadly drop into a whirlpool of molten rock. “You were wrong.”

His hit Scruffie hard on the jaw, so hard in fact that Scruffie flipped in mid air. He fell downwards, his hands barely managing to grab the edge of the platform. Just as he was pulling himself up, Engar stepped on one of his hands, halting him. “Ready for hell?”

“Not yet Engar… not yet…” He swung his legs over the edge, and rolled behind Engar, crouching. As Engar turned to charge him, Scruffie flipped forward, landing behind him once again. Engar stopped running, and turned to face Scruffie, who threw a punch at him.

Engar caught it with ease, and twisted the arm behind his back. “You see? You are too weak to beat me… I have bested you before, and I warped your mind in the process. You are scared, like a frightened child.” He started to cackle, and Scruffie felt helpless. He was right, he was finished… he was worthless, no matter how hard he fought, there was always something… someone that could beat him… and that is why he no longer deserved to live.

“Hail to the Engar, baby…”

That was when something snapped in Scruffie’s mind. He remembered what he lived for, what he fought for, what he was and who he was. He remembered he called himself Scruffie, and what that meant.

Engar continued to cackle, his eyes shut, with tears of laughter forming in his eyes. He didn’t see the fist coming.

It sent him spinning to the ground, and his hand immediately rushed up to his bleeding mouth.

“That’s my line ****er.” Scruffie stood up straight, blew on his fist, as if it was his shotgun, and smiled.

“You dare--!”

“Oh ‘I dare’ big boy, and I’ll continue on ‘daring to’ until your sorry ass is dead.” Scruffie walked towards Engar, swaggering slightly. “You might have beaten me before, but that was a fluke. And up until now I may have been missing something, the Scruff, but I’ve got it back, and baby, I’ve got it back in spades.”

Engar fell forward onto his knees and slowly rose to his feet. Scruffie just hit him on the jaw again, sending him back to the ground.

“See? Not scared any more. Now lets get on with this fight Engar, and let’s do it right.” He fell into a fighting stance.

(Note: This fight didn’t have much action, but if I win this round the next one will have lots more)
 
New Member
Retired Forum Staff
Joined
Jan 6, 2002
Messages
674
Best answers
0
( O_O Ok, here goes nothing..)

A dark cavern - deep within the bowels of the Earth - lit from beneath by the pools of flaming magma. As bubbles popped and hissed along the surface - cold air constantly hitting the sizzling liquid as it fell past the hot, giving the whole cavern a pulsing feeling as if the very air was writhing - shadows crawled along the distant ceiling casting strange and disturbing images against the blackened rock.

And into this place of nightmares, steped Engar.

If he was suprised about where he is, he didn't show it physically (though he doidmutter "Hell? Again?" under his breath).

WELCOME, MORTAL.

To call it a voice would be too generous; the very echos resounded through his skull and brought him to his knees. Every syllable was a cry of pain; every word the grind of the axe; every inflection the mutter of traitors. It was almost too much to bear; the voice of an Immortal was not for Mortal ears.

Not that this one would care.

A REQUEST HAS BEEN MADE AND SO I HAVE BROUGHT YOU HERE.

As Engar curled up into a shuddering mess, the sentence driving screams and horrors into his skull. The images in his minds eye, they were too much..

STAND!

This command brooked no question, as the magma spewed upwards in fountains around him - arrising to their masters whim - Engar found himself yanked to his feet and standing, shaking and pale, in the center of a pure white plateau.

THIS SHALL BE YOUR BATTLE-GROUND. GREET YOUR OPPONENT.

Engar blinked through the tears that streamed through his face, that combined with the raging flames of the lava that surrounded the plateau was clouding the figure striding towards him. As the nameless one approached the white stone path that it walked accross fell away into the writing red pools, making it clear that they would only be leaving at the evil ones pleasure.

He doubted this person was ever pleased.

THIS IS-

"You can cut the mystic bull, he knows my name.."

Suddenly the vision resolved itself and there was Scruffie.

He certainly looked worse for the wear, his body wasn't damaged but his eyes - his eyes spoke of things Engar couldn't begin to imagine. There was something deep in there, something bitter.

"I'm sorry Engar, I really wish it hadn't come down to this."

Scruffie took a step forwards, fists clenching and unclenching reflexively. Engar, for his part, eased his right leg back and lifted his hands into an uneasy combat position.

"Still doesn't have to Scruffie, its not to lat-"

Directly behind them the magma errupted, spurting towards the ceiling as Engar staggered sideways under the blow Scruffie had dealt him. It hadn't been a calculated punch, kick or anything you would find in any dojo. It had been a slap, hard and full of malice.

Drops of blood dripped down his cheek from where Scruffie's nails had caught him.

"How dare you?! Stand there and tell me that its not too late?!"

He swept his hand around, taking in the writing pit of Hell itself.

"Here of all places you would try and feed me that ****?!"

His voice lowered, a hiss instead of a yell but nevertheless it succeeded in penetrating the noise of the cavern.

"You *******, you ruined me when we fought. My phrase? My weapon?!"

It was all true, Engar had gone too far. He had seen the same thing in Scruffie's eyes that night; the humiliation. He hadn't meant it! But there it was, as clear as day.

Scruffie thrust his right hand forwards before Engar even realised the fight had started, palm open outwards towards him, intent on pushing him off balance. Knocking him over. Just as Engar had done to him. But rising up through the smog of guilt, the very core of Engar fought back.

Twisting sideways, Engar felt the very air ripple as Scruffie's fist ploughed through it, but didn't pause to consider it. As he had moved his right arm had drawn backwards, now as Scruffie leaned forwards on the momentum of the punch Engar's elbow caught him in the centre of the face travelling in the opposite direction with a very disturbing crunch.

As Scruffie stumbled backwards, off balance and bleeding , Engar hooked his foot behind him and sent the enraged warrior keeling onto his back. The thump had barely ended before he was on his feets, growling, but Engar had used the time to move to the centre of the plateau.

"Scruff, I never meant-"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!!"

Scruffie lunged forwards, ignoring the blood dripping down his chin, fists burning through the air around Engar's face as he sought to dodge out of the way. The first fist was from the right again, an overblown gesture to catch him off guard. He ignored it, the weak blow smacking into his shoulder with no real affect, while Engar managed to catch the left fist that would have caught him under the chin in the same way Engar himself had defeated Scruffie.

"This is-"

"Don't you ever shut the **** up?!"

With his hands occupied, Engar was totally defenseless against another punch. The fist met his face from the right side, sending him spinning away so dazed that even when he stopped moving the cavern continued to spin. The next thing he knew another fist was lodged in his stomach and the wind was escaping between his lips - though that didn't matter too much after Scruffie's roundhouse caught him again in the head and sent him flying onto the smooth white floor.

He managed to bring himself up onto all fours, blood dripping down his lips and over his eyes. He felt oddly guilty over letting it all fall onto the white ground.

"Get up.."

Engar couldn't respond, his body ached and his teeth buzzed. That obviously only annoyed Scruffie even more, he brought his foot around again - hooked it painfully into Engar's chest, spinning him again.

This time he landed on his back, gasping for the air he hadn't even realised he hadn't been breathing. This was all his fault.

"You're better than this Engar, you're stronger. Otherwise you never would have beaten me."

Scruffie hated him for being weak after defeating him; after humiliating him. Engar didn't blame him.

"Get up, damnit!"

In fact..

Scruffie glared down at him, frustrated at a victory that came too easily.

He agreed with him.

He yanked Engar to his feet, shaking him, slapping him, trying to wake him up.

Engar hated hi.. Engar hated himse..

"You've got to fight back!"

Engar hated himself..

"Please..!"

No!!

There it was again, his inner-self, that which was the core of all things that was Engar. Doubt, guilt, these things don't matter. Not now. Not when you fight for your life! Your soul!

Engar shoved both hands forwards against Scruffie's chest, sending him stumbling back in shock more than anything. Still an advantage was an advantage, as Scruffie sought balance Engar ran forwards and leapt - both feet catching Scruffie again in the chest. Not more than two seconds after landing hard on the ground, Engar fiercly rubbed the blood from his eyes and pushed himself up to his feet.

Scruffie was a few feet away, watching him warily with his arms raised.

"So you're ready Engar, to finish it?"

He just nodded, whatever guilt he had felt was supressed now. Or, rather, redirected. The best way to help Scruffie was to give it his all, go all out against him. That way, no matter what happened, Scruffie would leave this battle with honor.

As for Engar?

Engar just wanted to leave the battle and this place.

Alive if possible..

(Best I can do..)
 
Active Member
✔️ HL Verified
🚂 Steam Linked
💻 Oldtimer
Joined
Sep 23, 2002
Messages
1,876
Best answers
0
Location
Fryslân Boppe! The Netherlands
First of al
Scruffie said:
(Note: This fight didn’t have much action, but if I win this round the next one will have lots more)
This has no influence what so ever on the outcome of this round.
The outcome is based on what I think of the story you’ve written now, not on what you might write later.


Now about the fight.
Both stories are great to read, great eye for detail
but it's way to much detail in my opinion.

Fightclub is a place where you dual other ppl at a certain location!
Details to surroundings will get you extra points, but this is just to much
I like fights that actually are about fighting with some detail in it
This is the other way around
This is detail, with some fighting in it
I can understand how you like this, but I don’t like it (for fightclub that is)
The only problem is that both writers have done this so that makes it so much harder for me to judge this.

But I’ll try

After reading both stories 2 times,
I made the decision that Scruffie gets round one
This is because, well the action/fighting was better.
How he used his last defeat, and started the story with it was great.

Just remember for round two scruffie, engar came pretty close, you to are matched to each other
So remember what I Said, how I like my fights and base your stories on that.
That is gonna decide who wins this, not the writer with the greatest detail
 
New Member
Retired Forum Staff
Joined
Jan 6, 2002
Messages
674
Best answers
0
(I can't pretend that this will be much better in regards to action, I find it hard to imagine fighting in detail. But at the very least they can say this: Engar went down fighting..)

Rubbing blood away from his chin, Engar rose shakily from the ground with a strained grin that didn't reach his eyes. His arms shuddered up and down, fingers twitching and spasming as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

"Impressive little Scruffie, very good little Scruffie, pretending to be a man little Scruffie.."

Engar bounced closer as Scruffie watched him warily, not taking the bait.

"Scruffie not want to play?" Engar bounced closer, his head ****ed to one side, "Come out to play, Scruffie!" He jabbed his right fist forward, followed quickly by his left and then another right. Engar bounced backwards again, circling around him in a sporadic way that gave the mock boxing some sort of purpose.

Scruffie turned with him, hands still raised.

"Fight, fight, bark and bite.."

Engar was jumping up and down now, backwards and forwards, circling eraticly around Scruffie. He looked off the wall, his eyes glowed and his arms twisted.

"Pleased to meet me, Scruffie?" Engar jumped forwards as he had done so many times before, magma suddenly fountaining upwards on all sides and causing Scruffie to blink, "Want to guess my name?!" This time when Engar landed he kicked off the ground a second time and brought his head up into Scruffie's face with a crack and spurt of blood. Scruffie's hand hadn't even reached his bleeding nose before Engar recovered his balance and leapt hard into Scruffie's chest.

The two hit the ground hard, rolling over each other while still mercifully being near the center of the plateau. As the fire and magma boiled upwards Scruffie kicked out against the enraged bundle of bones and flesh that was Engar and managed to send him flipping backwards onto the ground.

To Scruffie's horror Engar was on his feet seconds later, apparantly ignoring the steady trickle of blood that was flowing from a split lip and the bruise that Scruffie's foot had inspired in Engar's eye. He stumbled slightly in his movements but that didn't slow him as he bore down on Scruffie in a kind of madness that left no survivors.

Scruffie ducked under Engar's grasping arms and came up underneath his chest, flipping him onto his back and taking a deep breath as he wiped yet more blood from his nose. The pain was all white noise for the moment, a part of the background that Scruffie didn't care about.

Engar himself didn't care about anything anymore, as his torn nails scrabbled against the hard white stone, wrenching himself to his feet against the mind numbing pain he could only think of one thing - destroying Scruffie. In truth the Engar that scrabbled to his feet and lunged at Scruffie, landing on his hands as Scruffie sidestepped out of the way and kicking out at the back of Scruffie's knee while still balanced on those hands - this was not the real Engar. Certainly not the man who had defeated Scruffie though the instincts for fighting were still there.

The dark one had taken Engar and, in the space that it takes the Future to move through the Present and into the Past, had broken him. In that space of time an eternity had passed for Engar, things had changed in his mind. Now he just wanted out and Scruffie was standing in the way. He'd kill himself and Scruffie if it meant getting out.

Scruffie rolled sideways as Engar's leg smashed down, the rock cracking minutely as his foot barely missed his head. Engar twisted and brought his other foot around in an arc that would have caught Scruffie in the ribs had he not rolled forwards and out of its way.

Stumbling, swaying, drunk with adreniline, Engar grabbed at Scruffie's shoulders and yanked him backwards onto the ground before digging his knee into Scruffie's stomach and sinking down to eye level.

"I'm going to murder you," he hissed, spraying blood onto Scruffie's already damp and sticky face, "you pathetic little roach. And there's not a damned thing you can do to stop me!"

"Wanna bet?!"

Scruffie was tired too, the fight was beginning to take its toll on the two of them, but he wasn't going to lose his soul no matter what Engar thought.

He brought his left knee up between Engar's two legs, a painful and probably illeagal move used by those who know that the rules were made up for and by people who had never had to fight for their lives. As Engar keeled forwards Scruffie slid to the left, caught Engar behind the head with his elbow and, very simply, smashed his head against the floor.

Half-stepping; half-stumbling - Scruffie got to his feet and backed away from the bloody mess that was Engar. Through the exhaustion, the blood, the pains that were beginning to make definate comments, he was sure he could hear a little voice telling him that Engar was far from finished.

"Mm thar throm thinithed Thruthie.." Slowly, arms shaking with unimaginable pain, Engar stood up and turned to face his opponent. It didn't even look like Engar anymore; one eye was swollen shut; his nose was flat and turning purple; his smile was broken and had many holes. And yet he was smiling, the pain had pushed what was left of Engar to the extent that he finally, very gently, snapped.

Nothing mattered any more, not the pain, not escape, not Scruffie and certainly not Engar. Winning was a matter of pride now, nothing more. He raised his bleeding hands up, his legs shifting slightly, and motioned for Scruffie to attack.

Having the space for it, Scruffie took a run up and kicked off the ground in a powerful jump kick meant to knock Engar off his feet. Instead Engar shifted one leg back and caught the feet with a grunt of pain, then heaved them upwards like a caber and allowed Scruffie to land reasonably gently on his feet.

Edging around Engar, Scruffie paused long enough to put Engar just slightly off guard, then dove in from the right with his fist flying forwards at an incredible rate. One hand swept around, using the minimum effort neccasary to misguide the blow while the other plummeted downwards to catch the left arm which had ideas of its own.

Scruffie used the seconds of confusion (which hand is which?!) to his advantage, smashing his head against Engar's again then kicking Engar away from himself. The kick and concussion sent Engar skittering backwards, dazed, so Scruffie pressed his advantage by stepping forwards and sweeping his right leg upwards in a quick attempt to cause damage. Engar though, relying more on instinct than anything else, stepped back from the kick and caught the foot in his hands, lifting it up as high as he could then pushing Scruffie to the extent that he landed on his back once again.

This wasn't going well, for either of them. Scruffie wasn't seriously injured yet, though getting tired through the effort he was putting in. Engar was not only being fuelled by adreniline, he had stopped caring to the extent that the incredible pain he was in didn't affect his thinking to any great degree. Of course the great injuries had impared his vision and slowed his movements, but in a fight the silver lining always hid a cloud.

Engar knew it, in some way. Scruffie could win, could use the injuries Engar had suffered against him, could leave him trapped down here forever. Engar also knew, deep down, that he didn't care about anything anymore. Nothing in life mattered. Nothing, that was, but this battle. Right here, right now Engar felt more alive than he had in what seemed like a lifetime.

And so he allowed Scruffie to get back on his feet, only half sure he would have been able to stop him, and waited for him to attack again. If there was a way out, a weak spot he could find then he would find it and use it. If the dark one had taught him anything, he had taught him patience.

(Well live or die, win or lose; I'm pretty damn proud of that one.)
 
Active Member
✔️ HL Verified
🚂 Steam Linked
💻 Oldtimer
Joined
Sep 23, 2002
Messages
1,876
Best answers
0
Location
Fryslân Boppe! The Netherlands
Scruffie...
You didn't post within 24 hours

I'm afraid I have let engar wi....
aahh **** it ;)
you to are friends, I'm not an official referee
so rules can be bend

If engar/cucumba agree, I'm willing to wait for your post scruffie
seeing that you to are great writers, and I would love you see your side of the story

So,
IF both engar and cucumba agree that they have no problem with waiting for Scruffies posts.. this fight will go on.
but if one of the two doesn't agree he or she o_O can send me a pm, and I Will change this. ( anonymous )
 
New Member
Retired Forum Staff
Joined
Jan 6, 2002
Messages
674
Best answers
0
I, a 'he' I might add :D, have nothing against waiting for Scruffie's post. In fact he'll here from me if we don't, I want to win this fair and square..

Or lose as the case probably will be. :)

Edit: Actually, isn't it that your meant to post within 24 hours of your opponents post? I mgiht have read that wrong, but thats the impression I got and from that I would have thought Scruffie I had 7 and a half hours left..
 

Scruffie

S
Guest
Ahh... I lost the file I was writing... I had written a bit yesterday and had to take care of something, now the files gone kapuut! Give me a bit of time to take care of it...
 
Active Member
✔️ HL Verified
🚂 Steam Linked
💻 Oldtimer
Joined
Sep 23, 2002
Messages
1,876
Best answers
0
Location
Fryslân Boppe! The Netherlands
[20:54:43] [Scruffie]: I've decided to forfeit

To bad, I would love to see you try and beat engar in the second round.

The fight is over, engar won
Full glory to engar for a nice round 2 KO
 

Scruffie

S
Guest
Whoa, don't make it sound all wussy, and that I couldn't beat him.

The real reason folks? I couldn't be arsed. Honestly, my life goes through a cycle of being interested in what I'm writing, and not being interesdted in what I'm writing.

So why didn't I post? I couldn't be arsed.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom