Go For Broke! - Chun Li vs. Bad Brad

[BlackAkuma]

…was it weird that Brad was half-tempted to ask this chick what her Leg Day routine was?

Brad was a man who could appreciate a good workout, you could tell that just by looking at him. He had to respect gains. As much as this woman was a pain in the neck - literally - there was no denying that she’d put in some serious work to get thighs like this. They didn’t just grow on trees, you had to put in some real time for them. He could respect that. He had to.

He just wished they weren’t currently choking the shit out of him. Fuck.

He lifted her up, higher, higher still, because…well, he wasn’t sure what the plan was, not just yet. It would probably involve slamming her down really fucking hard. Whatever the case, he wouldn’t have time to execute before she threw it all out of the window and disengaged, flowing over him like water in a single motion.

”Fuck’s sakes-”

Brad spun about, only to be greeted by a stiff kick in the breadbasket, one that sliced deep into his abs and left him gasping. As strong as he was, as tough as he was, that blow still cut and cut deep, and he was forced to step back as he clutched his aching gut. Woman kicked like a damn mule…

[killcarrion]

Courteous though Chun would have been from overhearing Brad's flaunting admiration of the swelled thiccness siphoning the strength from him, the Interpol Agent would have much rather preferred to refrain from broaching the sensitive topic altogether. Chun fostering simultaneous pride and shame when it comes to the herculean strength amassed within her thighs considering that, thanks to teasing remarks from her fellow agents, she's abundantly aware of certain fetishistic tendencies surrounding them. Nevertheless, she figured that any fighter in Brad's specific position who'd benefit more from breaking loose than snuggling into a blissful slumber would resort to relying on the sole advantage he possesses over Chun. Namely his lunkheaded musculature. The Bun-Haired Agent balanced flawlessly on the perch of Brad's scalp culminating with a graceful landing and gut-churning kick straight into his abdomen. Chun retracting her leg and balanced on the other as onlookers winced from practically seeing the rippled shudders of her strike quake throughout Brad. "...*Breathes*..." Chun steadying her auburn gaze on her huddled over foe before firing targeted kicks at his hamstrings, pectorals, abdomen...whichever area was unguarded before ending her Lotus Kicks with a spinkick aimed right for the side of his head...

[BlackAkuma]

Brad was slow. Physically, not mentally. It was just the price he paid for bulking up like this, and it wasn’t a big deal. Being strong as fuck worked out for him most of the time, after all. Sure, he could sometimes have problems catching his opponents, but he would catch them. They could run, they could hide, but he always caught up to them, sooner or later. He could do that Michael Myers thing. Slow and steady.

But that only really worked when his opponent was too weak to hurt him, which was 99% of the time when he was dealing with these speedy types. Fast as fuck, couldn't hit for shit. That wasn’t turning out to be the case with Ms. Chunners, here - not only was the bitch fast, but she hit hard.

Hard.

The first kick was nasty enough, but then came the followups, shot out at machine-gun speed. Quick, powerful, precise. Each one found its mark and rattled his body, with the finishing touch - this weird, flippy-spinny kick - smacking him hard across the skull and spinning him about. Dazed, he stumbled back, then spun back around and lashed out in a wide arc with his, trying to catch with a backfist before she could get away. ”Fucking bitch, fucking-”

[killcarrion]

Chun-Li never quite comprehended the male fascination with massive physiques and bulging musculatures. Aside from those hefting weights and competing in the Olympics, unfiltered brawn served little purpose outside from its...occasionally appealing aesthetic, she supposed. In an actual fight, it was whomever dedicated themselves to mastering precision strikes honed from years of training that was typically the deciding factor between those engaging in sanctioned matches. In Brad's specific case, all those jacked muscles of his only made him as cumbersome and lumbering as a slab of beef...with an intellect to match. Chun's refined kicks being battered into Brad's quaking physique with bruised blackness on several occasions, her Chinese qipao dress and fluttering hair straps flowing in the seawind as ravenous attendees clutched their bills and betting slips. "...*giggle*...Language, you~..." Chun mirthfully chided as Brad's panicked and flailed backfist ended up being ducked underneath with graceful fluidity as Chun's sweeping leg kicked his booted feet off the ground, but continuing to swirl akin to a ballerina balanced upright on her tip toes. One empowered leg pointed skyward before an attempted Hazanshu axe kick would be levied into her foe's chiseled abdomen or oddly painted face.

[BlackAkuma]

One hit.

All Brad needed was one goddamn hit, and he would fold this bitch up in a second. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind that even a glancing blow would be enough to drop her in record time. This wasn’t some hardened badass; this wasn’t some tough bitch. She was a little Chinese chick who looked like she should be serving him food at that buffet down the street with a bad health rating.

Problem was, though, he couldn't seem to pull it off. He lashed out with a textbook backfist, one of his best, and caught nothing but air. That would’ve been annoying enough on its lonesome, but then came the retaliation. Brad was just getting his bearings back, when the woman’s foot came flying up from above - a surprising stiff strike from the depths of hell.
bu
It wasn’t so much the force. Yeah, there was a ton of power behind those boots, but what really got him with the sheer speed and surprise of it all. That was enough to leave him staggering away, blinking, as he tried to stay upright with his addled mind merely.

”What just…what…” He shook his head and tried his best to process, but it wasn’t happening. His brain was too busy resetting ”How…how…”

[killcarrion]

Chun-li reminisced to her training regiments as a pupil when her bearded martial arts master scolded her for attempting to fight on her male adversary’s strength-minded level when they obviously outclassed her in that respect. Compelling the petite trainee to accept the undeniable truth that she would perpetually be at a disadvantage in this regard...but simultaneously learning the ways in which she could outclass them. The seasoned fighter seamlessly flowing through the air akin to a fluttering lotus in the Autumn wind, yet with the undaunted strength of a crashing waterfall with each successive strike capsizing and smashing into Brad's mountainous physique now breaking down into cracked imperfection. Chun arising with stylish poise and a steadied breath through her confident smile, witnessing Brad's disheveled befuddlement and opting to give her rattled opponent a chance to salvage whatever honor he may yet possess. "...*breathes*...Alright, I'd say we've had our fun. Exhilarating though this spar was, I say it's time you admitted defeat before anyone gets hurt. There's no shame in backing down, training hard, and asking for a rematch whenever you're ready~..." Chun stated with her fist pressed into the palm of her other hand...

[BlackAkuma]

…spar?

Brad was in pain, going through it, when that word - that single word - cut through the haze like a knife. He didn’t hear any of the other flowery shit she was saying, because it all faded into the background when he processed her statement. This was a spar to her? Like she wasn’t taking any of it seriously? Like she was was going easy?

On him?

Brad spat off to the side, raised his boot up, and brought it down hard enough to shake the arena and the boat beyond. ”Fuck you and fuck your fortune cookie bullshit, lady!”

Caution was tossed overboard as Brad came charging in, cursing up a storm every step of the way. There was no rhyme or reason this time, he just lashed out, firing left and rights and lefts without regard for technique, just trying to hit her with something, anything. ”Stay! Fuckin’! Still!”