An Attitude Check

[Meanken]

Chaff was sitting in his usual hangout on Nar Shaddaa, a local bar he frequented between jobs. Right now, he was sipping on a beer with a scowl on his face. He had just gotten a message that the PMC he had signed on with had gone and disbanded, leaving him without a client for the time being. Luckily, Chaff had money saved, so he wasn't about to starve, but now he was gonna have to reestablish contact with other clients that he mostly despised to make a buck.

This was not an ideal situation, to say the least. He had put out feelers on the holonet to try and pull in new clients who maybe he wouldn't mind working for, or at least who would pay more, making sure to list the bar he was currently in as his location, since that was where he usually was these days, but he wasn't optimistic about the odds of anything coming of that.

"Yo, get me another beer!" Chaff yelled as he tossed an empty bottle behind him.

[member=strider garon]

 

[Strider Garon]

The bottle flew over the arrogant mercenary's shoulder smacking the helmet-less mandalorian behind him in the face. Strider Garon was a powerfully built man with a body chiseled by gods and scarred by decades of violence. A professional soldier, a vetern warrior, a man bread for battle just stood their as the bottle fell from his face and smashed on the floor below him. Stunned, his mouth now held a ruined and broken Dilnlexan cigar, a small but pricy piece of luxury that the old man was looking forward to having all day. And now this young pup and his flying bottle trick had ruined it and he yet had the common courtesy to turn around to see his devastation.

Strider could feel his blood boil in rage, his fist clenched in want of smashing the man to mush. Garon took a deep and annoyed breath and then let it go, taking what was left of his cigar and flicking it at the back of [member="Meanken"] head. "Hey bub! You owe me an expensive cigar!' The old man snarled praying that the pup had the nerve to provoke him further.

 

[Meanken]

[member="Strider Garon"]

Chaff turned around when the other dude threw his cigar at him. Chaff was really not in the mood for this today. His unemployment was still fresh on his mind, and he wasn't about to stand around as some idiot who couldn't dodge a bottle yelled at him.

"Oh ya? And what the hell ya gonna do if I tell ya exactly where you can shove that cigar?"

 

[Strider Garon]

Good, the pup did not dissapoint. Without hesitation the old warrior instinctively placed him self in the guard position then lashed out with a cross, his right hand thrown from his chin, crossing the body and traveling towards [member="Meanken"] in a straight line. His rear shoulder is thrusted forward and finishes just touching the outside of his own chin. At the same time, the lead left hand retracted and tucked against his exposed face to protect the inside of his chin from counter attack. For additional power, his torso and hips rotated anti-clockwise as the 'cross' was thrown. His Weight transferred from the rear foot to the lead foot, resulting in the rear heel turning outwards as it acts as a fulcrum for the transfer of weight. Body rotation and the sudden weight transfer is what gave this attack its power aimed at ending this foolish merc in attempts at connecting fist to face.

 

[Meanken]

Chaff recoiled as the dude's fist connected with his face. He chuckled as he spat out a bit of blood. A good bar fight would take his mind off his money issues for a while, and Chaff never turned down a fight. Usually he was the one to throw the first punch, but he could deal with that.

"Big mistake, punk."

Chaff lifted his hands up in a fighting position. He swung a left fist at the man's face, but before it connected, he feinted and swung a right at the man's gut.

[member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Strider Garon]

The pup liked to talk, youth these days...... He came at Strider with a one two combo, the first left jab was a feint to distract the season warrior while the right rook was aimed at taking the wind from his sail with a gut shot. Fortunate for the older man, he was a seasoned shock boxer and a unarmed combat expert. He has been on the field of battle longer then this young warrior had been alive. What may seemed to be a exciting bar room brawl to most, to Strider this was just another day.

Strider was already in the guard position, his hands high and was totally prepared to take on the left jab with the back of his right. The feint came and the old dog instinctively dropped his left elbow down taking the blow full on and protecting his organs from impact force. Now it was time to lash out and show this pup how to fight for real. Strider would quickly step into [member="Meanken"], thrusting his knee straight towards the man's groin. Dirty fighting was not above the old man.

 

[Meanken]

Chaff took the hit to the groin, but did not recoil like the dude probably expected. He'd dropped a lot of money into the armor, and he'd made damn sure to install a cup in that area. Still hurt, force is force, but not as much as it would have without it. So he wanted to play dirty, eh? Alright, two could play at that game. Chaff reached behind him, instinctively searching for what was always somewhere in reach in a bar...

Ah, there, a bottle. God knows what was in the thing, but he didn't care. He wrapped his hand around the top and swung it full force at the guy.

[member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Strider Garon]

The bottle would break over Strider's left arm that was already raised to his chin in a boxing stance. It wasn't much effort to clench his head behind his forearm to protect head and face from the vicious attack. The old man would counterattack the bar room brawler with a flurry of blows ranging from quick left jabs to hooks and crosses from his right ranging from face to body shots in rabid succession. Garon, covered in alcohol and broken glass was now pissed and wanted to pommel this pup for his insolence.

[member="Meanken"]

 

[Meanken]

Usually, close range combat was Chaff's strong point. But he didn't typically do hand to hand combat. It just wasn't something that comes up much as a bounty hunter. So he was out of his element against the seemingly much more experienced dude. That, and he had been caught without his helmet on, something that almost never happens, so his face was already plenty exposed to attack. He tried his best to block the attacks, and managed to deflect a couple of the blows to his face, but the rest got through. Spitting out a bit of blood from his mouth, Chaff threw the stool he had been sitting on at the guy, then charged in with a flurry of blows aimed at whatever part of the guys body he could reach.

[member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Strider Garon]

The stool caught the veteren warrior off guard knocking him back a step or two which gave enough room for [member="Meanken"] to go on the attack. He lunged at Strider with his own flurry of blows lashing out at him for any openings he could get. The old shock boxer was able to cover up for the most part, blocking a good chunk of the strikes but a few found home, like a painful kidney blow and one that Strider will be feeling for a bit was a left ear box That knocked the old man off to the side and over a table.

Ok, the pup can bite, Strider thought to himself. The older man would tumble to his feet and instinctively placing himself into the guard position, ,his hands up ready for more. His left ear rang from the impact and his right kidney was griping in pain. But instead of showing pain he masked it with a devilish smile as if he was taking pleasure in this.

Strider would advance upon the Meanken, testing the waters with a few quick jabs from the left aimed at his face. Was more of a distraction as the looked for an opening to unleash hell upon this brawler.

 

[Meanken]

Now this was getting good. Chaff managed to get a few good hits in as he continued the attack. The guy he was fighting seemed to be enjoying it, however, based on that grin. Chaff hoped this wasn't one of them nut jobs that enjoyed pain. They were always a pain to fight. And all this over some cigar. Funny. Still, he'd seen fights over stupider things in this place. The guy went back and stuck at the face again. This time, he was ready to block the attacks. he didn't need to pay to get his face fixed again. The giant from that tournament had already done a number on it, and he was still hurting a little from that. After blocking the strikes, he spun around and kicked at the guy's chest with his leg.

[member="Strider Garon"]