Survival Of The Fittest

Paul knew things where going to be bad, after dodging all these blows towards his legs and finally preparing for his own offensive he was put into a world of shock as he felt Darnell's leg creep up behind his own and as he felt his head connect with Darnell's -who had lowered his head to nullify the force a bit-, but even Paul Smith couldn't combat the strength and obvious easiness in which the slam was done and he felt himself literally being tripped back and hitting his back on the concrete, a loud groan escaping him as he noted that he still had maintained the hold that he and Darnell had been, but now Darnell was pretty much laying on top of him.

Before Darnell could attain the mount however Paul was already wrapping his legs around the shorter boy's waist and placing his calves parallel to Darnell's and pushing down on them, this isolating the boy's legs and making sure that no matter what a full mount couldn't be maintained. With his legs in this position Paul let go of his hold on Darnell's arms and instead went for the boy's head, grasping the back of Darnell's head and pushing down on it (so his chin would touch his chest) pretty much allowed a position where neither boy could attack -punches would be far to sloppy and wide to be used effectively in this position-.

Now Paul just had to find a way to reverse this strange positioning he found himself in.

The slam seemed to work perfectly, the speed of Paul's fall and Darnell's own weight put in the push forcing Paul to the ground. Now they were on the ground, playing Darnell's game. Darnell had been looking for a way to take Paul down for the whole fight so far, and when the opportunity presented itself he took it without hesitation. Hearing and feeling their impact on the ground, he knew it would only be a matter of time. It wouldn't be much longer now before he could look Lance in the eye, shake his hand, and give him the two hundred dollars. As far as he was concerned his victory was inevitable, and he just had to find the right opportunity to end it all.

I have you now...

As Darnell tried to move up into a mount, Paul's legs moved up around his waist and pushed down on his calves to force his own legs to the ground, but trying to ignore the sting from his knee hitting the ground again he really didn't give a damn what Paul did. Once Paul did this, he also made the mistake of letting go of Darnell's arms and freeing them as he moved for Darnell's head. Leaning his head back a bit, Darnell raised each arm to the inside of the opposite arm from Paul-Darnell's left to Paul's right and vice versa-and pushed to the sides to force the arms away. In the same motion he brought his left down on Paul's throat, establishing a firm choke with a vice-like grip at the same time as he brought his right arm down in a sweeping hook aimed for his temple. He would win this fight, one way or another.

You've made for an entertaining last opponent Paul, but I can't let you win this, especially if all you're gonna do is try to buy yourself time.

Paul smiled as he saw his arms being batted off, this kid thought he could beat him? He thought it was over? No, he couldn't be more wrong and as the boy sent out his arm to go for a choke hold Paul was already intercepting it and dragging it down to the floor, this of course would cause Darnell to have a large amount of forward momentum and would give Paul enough to make use of it as he unwrapped his legs and did a standard lurching maneuver and sending Darnell off him with one shocking display of power.

Now Paul worked his way up he smiled at Darnell as things turned back to where it was back when the fight began as he returned to his standing game and oddly enough in a show of sportsmanship did not strike Darnell while he was down. Facing forward he bent his knees slightly as he kept his head erect and leaned forward slightly, his feet where placed shoulder width a part with his heels kept even as to avoid being knocked off balance, all the while his arms where kept at his side again as they had been for the majority of the fight and Paul stood tall as he awaited his opponent to rise.

"I suppose it'd be wrong of me to ask you to stay down, eh?"

OOC: The reason I have not posted is that it is time for the judging. I am bringing in a judge due to the absence of Meg and Clueless.
IC:

The attack didn't work, but at this point Darnell didn't care. As Paul shoved Darnell off of him, knocking him forward and to the right, Darnell went with the move by rolling to his right and quickly standing up. Surprisingly, Paul had made no attempts to attack Darnell on the ground, but Darnell stepped back slightly anyway, allowing a small smirk to appear on his face as Paul asked if it would be wrong of him to ask Darnell to stay down. It was interesting how after such a fight both of them were capable of idle banter.

"Well, seeing as I'm already standing..."

After saying this Darnell went into a simple boxing stance, once again sizing up Paul. Paul had to be slowing down by now, he reasoned, and had taken more damage as far as Darnell knew. Hopefully the damage from the eye gouge was still effecting him. A few isolated beads of sweat rolled down Darnell's face, but he ignored them. His knee was throbbing, but he ignored that too. He would let Paul make the first mistake, just as he had been trying to do this whole fight. There was little doubt in "The Bull"'s mind as to whether or not he could win this fight now, he just had to play his cards right.

Hey guys. Sorry to pop in out of the blue like this, but I was asked to judge this match, as the other judges were unable to.

It was very close in several areas, but from what I can see, Darnell is the winner. Good fight, you two.

It would all end soon. Paul had isolated his opponents weakness and now it wasn't about outlasting him, but instead about defeating him quickly and effectively as he smirked a bit and once again dashed at the risen Darnell with a speed that made the rest of the fight seem almost sluggish and then with a quick motion lashed out his left leg out like a whip towards Darnell's right knee and then he decided to try something flashy as he retracted his knee and did a 180 degree turn, he smiled lightly as the crowd held there breath, the fight was coming to it's climax and all they had to do was wait.

The spinning backhand however was renowned for being an effective, yet impractical move, it left people way to open and it was easily countered. Paul however had forgotten this fact, victory was in his grasp and that was all that mattered. It didn't matter if the move worked or not, the crowd looked at their watches as the clock ticked to the five minute mark: the fight had lasted too long, it was time for it to come to an end.

OoC- Sorry for shortness, just figured I had to post something.

Paul was right about one thing, the fight would be over soon. Darnell moved to dodge the dash forward and sudden kick, but it was too fast. There was a resounding crack and a gasp from the audience as Paul's foot hit the injured kneecap of Darnell Butler. A strangled sounding shout emanated from Darnell as he tried to stop himself from howling in pain, dropping onto the ground on the afflicted knee. Even through the adrenaline clouding his mind the pain was intense, and he could barely move his leg through it all. Montezzo started to step forward from his spot in the crowd while Paul spun around for his backfist, and the thought of him giving Paul the win filled Darnell with something that was almost alien to Darnell now: rage. The burning agony in his knee started to turn into a volcanic fury in his mind, the thought that he could be undone by one lousy kick making him once more feel like he wanted to tear someone apart with his bare hands.

I...can't...LOSE!

With all the force he could muster Darnell shot upwards at Paul, grabbing his arm as he turned around so his back was facing Paul. Pulling the arm forwards and then in a sharp up-down motion, he would bring the elbow joint down on the bone of Darnell's shoulder, snapping it in the same movement as he bent forwards and pushed up, in essence lifting Paul onto his back before lowering his head to around his knee in order to throw Paul off, letting go of the arm to complete the slam to the ground. It was almost identical to the hip throw Paul had tried earlier, but Darnell was not yet finished.

Grabbing Paul by the hair to pull him upwards into a sitting position, he also took his right arm and lifted it up in order to place his head below it, leaving Paul's arm above his head. Wrapping his left around Paul's waist, he stood up slightly in order to lift Paul up, bringing his right up between Paul's legs to grab his left by the forearm as he stood all the way up and bent back sharply in order to slam Paul's head and neck into the ground, using his legs to bridge. He then rolled sharply to his left so that he was again behind Paul, who would be on the ground, and moved his arms to around his gut. Again bending backwards, with his head placed behind Paul's shoulder, he would slam Paul's head and neck against the ground again in what was an almost identical throw. Though he had again bridged his legs to hold himself up, he then took his arms away from their position and lowered his legs, pushing forwards to basically slide out from under Paul.

After that was done Darnell would push Paul's legs so that they were essentially moving over his head, as he would be on the ground if the combo reached this point, and again grabbed him around the gut, trying to use his strength to pull Paul up with him. When Paul's rear reached the level of Darnell's neck, Darnell would pitch forward and down, hoping that the powerbomb combined with the other throws would knock him out. He was trying his best to block out the pain, and putting everything he had into these last moves. If this didn't work, he didn't know what would.

One move and it was all over as Paul felt his arm outstretched and snapped, he barely had enough time to curse before he went on to be tossed and beaten, his hair being grabbed and being slammed in the floor. There was no time for quick thinking, there was no time for counters, it was all done with a precision and quickness that was overwhelming and before Paul knew it, he found himself on the floor, his whole body throbbing and the world getting progressively foggier as things started to fade out. Turning his head to his side he noticed that his arm was now mangled and when he tried to move it nothing occurred.

"W-What the fuck just happened...", the crowd suppressed their urge to giggle as Paul groaned this, still though he made no attempt to get up. Seconds quickly turned into a minute as Montezzo approached the boy and smiled a bit at him, he looked at Paul as if to say, "You've done good kid" and then turned around, the sincerity gone in his eyes as he quickly became the professional person he was only seconds before. It was a brief concession and Paul felt grateful for it. With his working arm he reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, placing it in his mouth, then he took the hand and brought the Zippo lighter to his mouth and lit the cigarette.

With one inhaling of the cigarette he smiled lightly as he heard Montezzo pronounce Darnell the winner . His injuries? A broken arm, a very messed up back, a concussion, but the one that was the most puzzling was the obvious ash burns he had on his chin.

"Ladies and gentlemen, give a round of hearty applause to these extraordinary fighters, they have earned it!"

Montezzo's request was first answered by a few isolated claps in the massive crowd, still awed by the battle they had witnessed. Over a few seconds the claps started to grow louder and more numerous, until eventually it seemed like the basement had exploded in cheers, applause, and chanting of Darnell's name. The roar of the crowd, the shouts of "great fight!", "I knew you could do it, Butler!" and the like, for all the good it did to Darnell it might as well not have been there. All he could hear was the thunderous beating of his own heart. It was truly a wonder to him that they who bore witness to the tournament could not hear the percussive organ themselves, as to him it drowned out all of their noise, all the merriment they made at the fight that was only now truly over. It had been a difficult fight, but Darnell knew one thing: no matter what his own condition, he had won. Lance would get the money he so desperately needed for his child. Darnell had his pride, too, but that wasn't as important.

I pulled it off. Heh, I actually did it! Keith, Kallie, Lance, did you see me? I won! I beat Paul Smith!

His head throbbed, his heart pulsed, his entire body was numb from the adrenaline and excitement that had yet to leave his body, and the only thing Darnell could really feel at the moment was his own red hot blood racing in his veins. None of it had been shed tonight, but if it had it would appear to be boiling on the hard basement floor. The sweat rolling down his ebony skin caused his shirt to stick tightly to his otherwise bare and well-muscled chest, but he paid it no mind as he did not notice the discomfort. Those looking on from the outside such as Montezzo and the cheering audience would see a man who was tired and hurt, breathing a bit heavily while struggling to stay standing, his right leg shaking badly as if it were about to snap under Darnell's weight. Inside, though, he could not feel any more different if he tried. It could only be described as a sort of high, an all encompassing euphoria that surrounded him and made it seem like nothing could effect him. He felt invincible, like if he were to try right now he would conquer the Universe itself. He was the King, and if he asked all would bow before him. This overwhelming sense of power encompassing his entire being, it could not be rivaled by any other sensation. Wrestling, Football, nothing compared to the rush he felt right now as the people chanted his name and Montezzo, seeming as coolly confident and professional as always, checked on Paul and removed the cigarette with a small joke ("cigarettes are bad for you, friend."). It reminded Darnell just why he used to love fighting so much, the feeling of power and control. Overcome with emotion, he could not help but raise his hands up into the air and look upwards to the ceiling, letting out a triumphant roar that nearly matched that of the crowd.

The bull's horns are still sharp!

His shout only went on for a few seconds, but it seemed to last for easily an hour at least, his lungs being emptied in a quick burst of the power that now seemed to inhabit him in the wake of his grueling match with Paul. He loved this, and he knew part of his immense satisfaction at his own victory was due to the fact that, unlike Paul, he was not fighting for himself. It was his hope that Paul would understand Darnell's motivations and forgive Darnell for defeating him in time. Still, shortly after he started his victorious cry he closed his mouth, lowering his head and arms to face the crowd silently once more. This time though he was not in a dazed looking trance, focusing only on his mind. No, his eyes searched through the faces in the crowd almost frantically, his head moving from side to side to look for two specific people in the crowd. Those two people had been in his mind just as much as Lance was when he struggled against Paul, hoping to not only win Lance the money but to impress them. He did not see them at first, but still started to step forward, opening his mouth to call out to Keith Jackson and Kallie Majors while hoping they had not left.

"Hey, Keith, Ka-"

*SNAP!*

Everyone heard the noise that came from Darnell's right leg as it touched the ground, a sickening crunch that caused a loud gasp to come from some of the people in attendance. In a second flat, the mighty Darnell Butler had collapsed to the ground, the adrenaline wearing off and making way for intense white-hot pain the likes of which he had almost never experienced before in an instant. It seemed to take the breath from his lungs as soon as it appeared, destroying his balance and clouding his mind as all he could do was fall forward to the ground like a freshly cut tree. Crashing to the ground with his hands cradling his damaged knee, which caused his head to smash against the floor and disorient him even further (especially when added to the headbutt he had taken earlier), he felt his mouth fill with blood as he bit down hard on his own tongue and the insides of his cheeks in order to keep from degrading himself by crying out from the incredible agony.

The next few minutes seemed to be a confusing blur from Darnell's point of view. The pain was too much, he couldn't think clearly, couldn't comprehend everything that was happening. He couldn't even muster the strength to get up, though he was sure that at the moment his leg was useless anyway. He heard Montezzo ordering medics to come down and get Paul and Darnell, could hear shouts and the sounds of people in the crowd moving forward, only to be blocked by Montezzo and security. Someone cried out and fell to the floor, Darnell would later learn this was someone who tried to push Montezzo out of the way and ended up laid out by a lightning fast counterattack. The crowd went silent, and Darnell offered no response to the sensation of being lifted up by two large men and placed onto a stretcher, grunting loudly as they stretched his leg forward in order to strap him down and start carrying him out of the basement.

"That's enough!" he could hear Montezzo say, almost as if he were out of focus but it was still obvious that he had raised his voice for once, "The tournament is over, everybody. Please pick up any winnings you have earned at the designated gambling areas and leave in an orderly fashion once the medical staff has left with Paul and Darnell. Shooters is closing soon, so it would be preferable if you left now."

His words faded further and further as Darnell soon found himself out of the complex and into the surprisingly cold California night, quickly being loaded onto an ambulance almost like he was cargo. Still not clear on what was going on, and fading in and out of consciousness, he saw the mask for the air based anesthetic coming down onto his face, and everything faded to black as the gas did its work.


OOC: Darnell Butler, tournament champion, continued in St. Francis Hospital, come broken and leave fixed.