Round 1 - Android 17 vs Bardock

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse this site, you are agreeing to our Cookie Policy.

  • Round 1 - Android 17 vs Bardock

    Scenerio - It's the battle to end all battles. An old coach is about to retire, but not before helping his last student through the final match of the world martial arts tournament

    Assignment - Roleplay third person behind the old coach through the martial arts match.

    Rules - The coach's student must win.
  • Round 1 - Android 17 vs Bardock


    This was it. This was everything they?d worked for?everything he?d worked for.

    Murphy paced back and forth in his office, running his wizened fingers along the cold, polished trophies, feeling the grooves of the etched numbers counting back to days long past. Not a touch of gold, or even silver, passed beneath the leathered skin. His steely blue irises wandered around the room, staring into the black and white eyes that lined the walls, forever captured in time. Once-promising fighters had become nothing but dated photographs and newspaper clippings.

    It was time to go.

    One foot in front of the other, Murphy walked the long hallway. It seemed to stretch forever. And at the end, a bright light awaited. The old coach?s silhouette passed through the wall of ambience, and the flash consumed him.

    ?Murph! Murph!?

    Old Murphy opened his eyes to a world of screaming onlookers. A sea of blurred colors surrounded him, erupting in a deafening cacophony of cheers. The only noise to overpower it was the black board hanging overhead, lit up with two names and blaring sharp blasts of a horn. The letters illuminated spelled out the event everyone had been waiting for:


    Duke Steele


    Bolo Li

    Murphy looked over at his fighter and clapped a hand over his shoulder. In that single gesture, he passed on all of his hopes and dreams of a championship.

    ?You got this one, kid,? he nodded, gripping the fighter?s shoulder tightly. ?You worked harder. You want it more, and you got the bigger heart.?

    Duke nodded and stepped boldly into the ring, staring down his already waiting opponent. Murphy looked on, watching his final contender step onto the platform.

    The moments that followed were a blur. They passed by so silently and so slowly, you could hear the rhythmic beating of a nervous heart. Murphy?s was so worn, he couldn?t take much more of these. And then, like a decisive axe of fate, the announcer dropped his arm, signaling the start of the match.

    ?Come on kid! Punch his lights out!?

    At that very moment, Bolo landed a significant blow to Duke?s face. Murphy winced. Not a great way to start the match.

    ?Keep your guard up!? the old man yelled. In the heat of the fight, he began to mimic the movements as he instructed them. ?Duck and swing! Duck and swing!?

    His surly old face was drawn up in a frown. Duke had come to him, a desperate man floundering to get his big break. Murph had molded him into a top fighter: taken his rough, aggressive fighting style and made it into an unstoppable force, and done his best to curb the flaws and apparent weaknesses. Duke was infamous for losing his temper, and had a very subtle Achilles? heel?a recognizable pattern if he fought too long. The aged coach, having been around the block more than a few times, had seen right away if his champ was in the ring too long, he began to get predictable.

    ?Hard and fast! Take him down!!? Murph roared, not wanting his prized fighter to fall into his own trap.

    Bolo grabbed Duke by the arm and flung the fighter hard across the ring. Murphy stared hard at the fight. He had studied the opponent carefully, but could find no inherent fault in his moves. Duke was getting battered badly. The coach could feel his last chance slipping through his gnarled fingers.

    ?Hang on, kid! You can win this one!!?

    Sweat poured down the instructor?s wrinkled face. Duke?s body skidded towards the edge of the ring.

    ?Murph?? he breathed heavily, his eyes losing their fighting spirit, the lids lazily fluttering up and down.

    ?Don?t you give up!! Don?t let him win! Fight back! Fight!? Murphy roared, getting close. Duke?s expression hardened, and he attempted to get up, strengthened by these words. Just then, the hulking Bolo leaned down to pick his victim off the ground once more. ?Counter! Counter!!?

    It was a technique they?d practiced hundreds of times. When Duke couldn?t finish an opponent by his own clout, he was to use his challenger?s against him. Murphy figured the strategy compensated for any shortcomings in their initial game plan.

    The young fighter tried, but was too slow.

    Bolo turned his heel, and slammed Duke down, following up with a crushing blow to his stomach.

    Wait a second? the old man paused.

    The match progressed, and Murphy waited out his theory as patiently as he was allowed. At last, Bolo set up for another throw as he forced his opponent closer to the edge. By now, Duke had figured out the motions and was ready to evade.

    ?No kid! Stop! Let him go!? Murphy yelled out suddenly.

    Duke paused, allowing Bolo to grab him. The giant opponent turned his heel.

    ?NOW!! COUNTER!!? the old man hollered.

    Duke shifted the weight of the grip, and just as a surprised Bolo was about to throw Duke over his shoulder, the young fighter reversed the motion and tossed the contender over his shoulder for a solid ring-out.

    Murphy cheered, dropping to his knees. At last, at long last, at the long end of the hallway, he?d touched gold.