Description: Kain dares a rival Syndicate faction to make a move against him, enjoying a meal in enemy territory despite knowing he's a marked man: That dinner is interrupted, and in dramatic fashion-- a chaotic firebombing serving only as overture. Rock Howard is caught in the crossfire, but as the body count rises and the tide turns decidedly in the dark pyromancer's favor, one has to ask: did the Howard scion happen into this conflict, or are there darker, more purposeful forces at work here. .. Or simply both mens' dark destinies unfolding..
It's been a rough stretch for the Southtown harborfront, though you wouldn't know it from the picturesque cascade of red-orange hues that announce the sun's pending extinguishment in the sea. At one point, the Syndicate kept imports and exports into the megalopolis locked down tight: taxed, accounted for, managed by force of arms and weight of clout. Lately, however, that truce between the isle's crime families has been breaking down, and nowhere is it more obvious than the struggle for control over that vital shipping lane. The legitimate business that comes through Southtown is only part of the story: vice of every sort is evident just below the surface, it just needs a little scrape-- the city teaches everyone that sooner, or later.
Lately that struggle for control has degraded dockside into a veritable warzone: competing families staging wholesale occupations and quick raids to ensure -their- product makes it out.. and in. The latest in a line to set up shop did it a few nights before with explosives and blades, as the civilians forced to work in the crossfire keep their heads down; smile and nod for the new boss, same as the old boss.
So it is at a very tense fish stand adjacent to a long bank of warehouses-- it doesn't look like much, but Kain has discovered they have -amazing- fish soup in several delectable varieties. He's dressed far too well for the area, business suited for an earlier era and shrouded in a fine overcoat, the entire affair a mingling of midnight blacks with trim in contrasting cerulean and white. He's even got a tie neatly affixed around his throat, and has spilled nary a drop in enjoying tonight's bowl of soup.
Most of the regulars, most of the locals: they figured out the night before this was trouble. There's almost no one at the place, which is more of a shanty roof and tabls built around an outside stand than a proper restaurant. The youthful, blonde businessman just sips his soup, and smiles like he's in on a very intriguing joke.
The teen controls the Honda CBR954RR Fireblade as though it were an extension of his own body. He 'leans' into turns, downshifting and easing up on the throttle, and skirts around cars, a semi, a small construction site and several dozen potholes. Commerical structures rapidly decrease in size the further he travels, which then trickle off into suburban sprawls and shipping yards. Rock is far from home, but the long drive is freeing. Exhilarating. A rush that begins each time he stirs the crimson beast and throws his leg over the seat to ride. There is no brooding, no worries... Just him and the road.
Arriving at the Southtown harborfront, the engine is cut and the boy pulls the helmet from his head, silken locks of golden blonde hair in a state of disarray. He looks out at the sea...
Then his stomach voices a very loud and painful compliant.
Rock guides the bike by foot to the closest... parking place? Stall? Wherever it's safest to leave his precious motorcycle, taking with him his bookbag and vaulting the barrier next to what might be considered a sidewalk. Tugging fingerless driving gloves from his hands, they are folded neatly and stowed away in the pocket of regulation slacks. Before this, the Southtown-native was at school. Now he's approaching the fish shanty establishment and drops his ass into a seat at a small table. Fingers are sent through his fringe, combing it back. He relaxes and unclips the choking collar of his uniform, sighing with relief.
There's no service. After a minute or two, this perplexes the young Howard kid, because he actually waits patiently and it's not exactly BUSY or anything... "Oh. Okay, that's fine." Rock designates his place by leaving his bag behind and gets up to move with purpose, walking with a brisk but somehow graceful stride to the 'bar'. He orders... whatever soup special they're offering, something to both satisfy his hunger and keep him warm for the trip home. As if concerned, the little proprietor first glances at the only other customer, then hastens to retrieve a cracked bowl from the 'kitchen'. The American teen doesn't notice any of this, he's flipping through his wallet and pulling out bills to pay for his meal. "Tch, 100 yen short, I swear I..." He's mumbling. "At least..." Mumble mumble.
It's hard to read recognition on Kain's stoic, austere features. It's certainly well concealed by the too-calm passage of time that passes for entertainment to the man; at least, in this moment. The recognition is there, however-- Heinlein knows who the young Howard scion is, certainly knows of both the other man's tutors. Even if Rock notices that registration as Kain's eyes scan over him, even if Rock senses that subtle tremor of echoing chi that pings off his field in that same moment, it's already too late. For some fighters, it's the hair on the back of their neck, the twinge that tingles down the spine. Kain would tell you that he's seen lives flash in that instant, sensed the true nature of spirit and soul amidst the trials and tribulations in every ripple of a warrior's aura; but we're getting several degrees of dramatic magnitude ahead of ourselves.
Here, now, the fact of the matter is it widens Kain's smile subtly, knowingly, and then there's no time to even ask. Sometimes synchronicity is a hell of a thing. The empty lot seperating the eatery from the loading dock is suddenly alive as two SUVs, nondescript in sleek black, screech up in front of the ramshackle hole-in-the-wall. The windows are already rolling down when they screech to a stop, and their greeting is to open up on Kain with several uzis, a barrage led by a massive, muscular bald man with twin ingrams-- he has to be at least 6 and a half feet tall. This assault is, quite skillfully and with coordination, focused right on Kain's table, mob firing squad style. The secondary onslaught, a rampant barrage of explosive firebombs that suddenly turn the eatery into an inferno? /Another matter entirely./
COMBATSYS: Hitsquad has started a fight here on the left meter side.
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Hitsquad 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Towa has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
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COMBATSYS: Wall has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
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COMBATSYS: Kain has joined the fight here as a boss!
KAIN
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COMBATSYS: Rock has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
KAIN
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Hitsquad 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Rock
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COMBATSYS: Rock blocks Hitsquad's Molotov Spray.
KAIN
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Hitsquad 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Rock
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COMBATSYS: Rock overcomes Molotov Cocktail from Towa with Reppuken.
KAIN
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Hitsquad 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Rock
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COMBATSYS: Kain blocks Hitsquad's Molotov Spray.
KAIN
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Hitsquad 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Rock
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COMBATSYS: Kain blocks Towa's Molotov Cocktail.
KAIN
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Hitsquad 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Rock
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COMBATSYS: Kain overcomes OH DEAR LORD A GAT from Wall with Schwarze Lanze.
Glancing Hit
KAIN
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Hitsquad 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Rock
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To him, Kain R. Heinlein is nothing but an ordinary man. A man who bears... a striking resemblance, as though he were molded by the same genes as Rock himself. It registers briefly how the shades of their hair differ by only a small fraction, and the scarlet of Heinlein's irises... An uncommon colour, to be certain. Beyond that, to say that he comes to notice the faint rise of goose pimples, or the nudge of a sixth sense honed to detect chi signature, the former heir to Geese Howard's 'great' legacy is too preoccupied. All he can see is the besuited businessman, enjoying his soup in peace. The teen intends to have his own, as well. He's just digging through the pockets of his uniform, attempting to find 100 yen to seal the deal.
In an instant, his every perception of the world around him will change.
While Rock is victorious and now has enough to pay the proprietor, who is still busy preparing his soup, in rolls two SUVs with tinted windows. His empty stomach seizes with the dread that comes with having found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time. The barrels of uzis appear, grinning faces... The teenager yells to the man in the back, "Hey you! Old guy, get --" Gunfire. The words are drowned by rapid bursts and bangs, bullets raining down on the shanty and on one table in particular. It's like 'Nam in here, holy hell.
He dives for cover to avoid the deadly spray, any bullets that ricochet off-course, and the shrapnel as wooden tables and chairs are riddled with holes, breaking down into splintered rubble. All he wanted was something to eat, are you kidding me?! Rock's ears are left ringing after every volley, his heart pumps adrenaline through his veins and arteries... A shaking hand pushes cold sweat-soaked bangs from his forehead.
Firebombs are incorporated into the assault, the boy mutters a curse. His hands snap out, forcefully gripping the last intact table that had served as his impromtu shield. Moving to crouch, Rock hurls it directly into the path of the molotov spray. The force of the explosion pushes him back into the 'bar', head colliding with the barrier. "S...shi.." There is a lump forming on the back of his skull that ruins his entire day.
Still, that isn't the end, as Rock struggles to find his footing admist the chaos, something in particular catching his attention when it soars in a flaming arc through the air. The Howard scion slashes upwards, dispelling smoke and swatting aside the burning remains of his defender, his arm wreathed with cerulean chi. "REPPUKEN!" A shockwave cuts a swath through flames and wreckage, the cocktail falling directly in the way where it is extinguished. His head swivels on the axis of his neck, crimson eyes scanning and searching for the other man. Did Kain make it? He reacted and couldn't exactly... save him, so...
COMBATSYS: Towa blocks Rock's Reppuken.
KAIN
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Hitsquad 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Rock
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COMBATSYS: Wall blocks Kain's Schwarze Lanze.
KAIN
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Hitsquad 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Rock
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There's a cold chuckle from the Syndicate boss sitting alone at that table in the hair's breadth before ample numbers of enforcers move to snuff him out. He already knows it, already feels it-- they already underestimate him, already walk into a patiently set trap. They've cornered an extra predator in the bargain, at that. Rock's reflexes seem to echo in the enigmatic, well-dressed man: he rises in a graceful flourish, and a surging wave of dark fire, white-cored with flaming tendrils like a glowing ocean at midnight blasts outwards around his feet, summoned in an instant and immediately burning to life behind intense, paradoxically ice cold eyes.
The heat barely reaches the burning businessman, singing the ends of his hair and reddening pale skin, the dull pain drawing a grit from their intended quarry's teeth in the moments before he whips one anchoring leg around and the space between him and the roof between himself and his assailants is blasted off at an angle in a ragged, rising wave of that near-black yet white hot chi, bullets consumed en masse amidst the charge and launch of that attack. Leaping with the momentum of said projection, the young warrior and his prodigious burning energy clear much of the distance to what's left of the entrance in that single, powerful arc, as he forges a secondary charge in both hands.
The men around the meaty, ingram-wielding thug scatter with a scream of "FUCK, WALL!" as that mirroring gout of ragged, chaotic elemental fire rains from on high, launched at the height of Kain's highjump. The big guy just hunkers the hell down, weathering the punishing fires with steely resolve-- and one hell of a grunt at the sting of it on his forearms and shoulders. Downside: Kain's still striding forward from where he landed, with less than humane intentions. "GET the fucker!" That's what they're here for, right? The hitmen converge from all sides, a smorgasbord of muscle shirts and track pants launching practiced techniques like the karate kick and the judo chop. This is to say: It's no less than three men at any given time, punching and kicking to their heart's content, already a little rattled by the near-total dismissal of their surprise attack...
... and the wildcard, whose blue chi-wave not only cleaves a safe path through the burning building, it hammers into the athletic Japanese girl holding another firebomb, blasting her back against the SUV harshly as she veritably ducks and covers and crosses her damn fingers in the wake of the explosive impact. She comes up with a .44 revolver and lays down at least three of the shots back at Rock in short order: apparently, after a quake like that headshots are the order of the day.
COMBATSYS: Towa successfully hits Rock with Covering Fire.
KAIN
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Hitsquad 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Rock
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COMBATSYS: Kain dodges Hitsquad's Synchronized Beating.
KAIN
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Hitsquad 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Rock
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COMBATSYS: Kain dodges Wall's Hellacious Headbutt.
KAIN
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Hitsquad 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Rock
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Rock wades through flames and ruination, muscling aside any obstruction as required, attempting to reach the spot where he last saw the well-dressed businessman. A hand hovers across his nose and mouth, he squints into the massive cloud of undulating smoke, trying to see past it. This is entirely ineffective. The teen would call out, but after one deep inhalation, he dissolves into a coughing jag that robs him of not only of his voice, he feels smothered, struggling to breathe. Crimson eyes water...
The closer he stumbles, the more is revealed to him. Kain shines like a beacon of light, but the light is darkness, darker than the thick tendrils of grey that climb lazily to the ceiling. He is fine. Better than fine, even. It's a load off Rock's conscience, and Heinlein can fight. For a heartbeat, the Howard scion is lost in silent appreciation and awe of the prodigy's abilities and skill, following his progress...
But, he should probably haul ass. Standing around like a dope will only get Rock killed.
As a piece of the roof is cut away in Kain's attack, the remainder sags and the burning, blistering supports groan. The entire structure threatens collapse, so the blonde teen breaks into a run for the entrance... And that run is directly into three shots of covering fire. A bullet sears his upper arm, another puts a hole clean through his regulation slacks, missing his calf by a millimetre. Rock twists, avoiding the last, then he surges forwards. He throws his elbow up, propelled by unknown forces, gliding. Only when he's close enough to see the whites of Towa's eyes does an ultimately pointless realization dawn on him, "Huh, a girl?!" The boy chokes out, his handsome features contorting in shock. Too late, he's committed.
Fist cocked back to his ear, the heavy elbow might break her nose, but then Rock adds insult to injury with a savage palm-thrust to the sternum. Behind him, a crude wing of purple-hued chi fans out and hovers. Its light shines down on his golden blonde hair, the glow making him look positively angellic... An angel who beats up women, that is a bit disconcerting to the teen.
Kain seems to anticipate just this bum rush, this urgency-- if he does not crave it, he certainly accomodates it, weaving between Syndicate button men with an almost casual grace. Making it look easy is part of the mystique, already in the heads and hearts of his adversaries as certainly as he invades their space, dark afterimages tracing his sudden movements. In that first moment of melee clash, those with bleeding edge attention to detail would be able to confirm that no one lays a hand on the targetted Capo, who weaves in and out amidst their ranks to target that squad's leader: brutally.
As with his first, instinctual defense, the scion of the blackest flame opens up with alarming ferocity once more, not seeking to upend the larger warrior, but instead twisting into a shoving palmstrike; only, it's laced in explosive fires meant to rip and burn into his opponent, with little restraint or concern for the injury he might cause... Now, or momentarily. If Kain has his way, his target will be launched backwards in a firestorm intense enough to rock the SUV directly behind.
COMBATSYS: Wall endures Kain's Medium Throw.
KAIN
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Hitsquad 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Rock
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Towa 0/-------/----===|
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COMBATSYS: Towa dodges Rock's Hard Edge.
KAIN
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0|---------------|-------========
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Hitsquad 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Rock
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Towa 0/-------/----===|
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The burly hitman goes hurtling into the side of his ride, the frame and bodywork crumpling in around the explosive impact. Rather than being dazed, however, the one they call the Wall is /launching/ himself back out of his metal-and-carbon impression in a moment of relentless adrenaline, snarling past the burns and lacerations that suddenly cover his upper body, arms searing with every motion. In tandem with his squad, the hulking brute seeks to hammer Kain back, unbalance him just long enough for two men to hold him, while the third-- and the Wall-- would savagely beat him about the head and neck (and chest, and ribs).
Towa is wise to the threat Rock presents, even if the others are still focused on Kain. She wheels away from the charging prodigy and takes cover behind the hood of the SUV, which similarly crumples in a spray of shrapnel and scream of metal as Howard's chi tears into it. Several men break off from the initial horde to go for Rock's arms-- and kidney's. It's not unlike the special treatment reserved for Kain: he's got their attention.
COMBATSYS: Hitsquad successfully hits Rock with Reckless Attacks.
KAIN
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0|---------------|-------========
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Hitsquad 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Rock
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Towa 0/-------/----===|
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COMBATSYS: Rock counters Fierce Punch from Towa with Gedan Crack Counter.
KAIN
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Hitsquad 0/-------/------=|======-\-------\0 Rock
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COMBATSYS: Kain blocks Wall's Goon Gang-Up.
KAIN
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Hitsquad 0/-------/------=|======-\-------\0 Rock
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COMBATSYS: Hitsquad successfully hits Kain with Reckless Attacks.
KAIN
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0|---------------|---============
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Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Rock
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Towa 0/-------/=======|
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Well. He's not... disappointed that the cartilage of Towa's nose remains intact, but Rock isn't exactly happy, per se. The broody teen allows his confused frown to speak for his emotional state, and he straightens slowly, regarding the damage he has wrought impassively. If these jerks can afford uzis and revolvers, surely repairing the hood of the SUV will be nothing more than a nuisance. They should be thankful the Howard scion didn't completely SMASH HIS WAY THROUGH IT.
Because he could.
Totally could.
What troubles him, when he acknowledges the niggling and persistent thought lurking deep in the darkest recess of his mind, is why this is happening. He can't question Kain, not right now; the man's got his own problems and Rock has his. As the impact of a heavy human body causes the vehicle to shudder, metal caving inwards, some of the horde grab at him. With a wordless scream of rage, the Southtown-native throws off a few of the first wave, but their numbers quickly overwhelm him. Arms wind around his, fists pulverize his kidneys, the taut muscles of his abdomen. It... is painful, but nothing he can't handle, gritting his teeth and baring them in a grim smile.
"Heh, is that the best you losers can do?" A beat, shaking his fair head. "All right, I'm not going to hold back!!"
Towa joins the gang-up, weighing in with her fist, but there's an opening that cannot be ignored, not if he wants to escape. God, he hopes she doesn't start crying. Rock slips free by... shrugging out of the jacket of his school uniform, allowing the goon squad to have it, the buttons popping off and disappearing into the expanding night. He grabs her arm, fingers locking around her wrist hard enough to bruise, leaving welts in their wake.
It doesn't last long, as soon as he turns over in a front flip, Towa is free, but then Rock's heel comes crashing down on the woman's crown, possibly hard enough that she'll be eating asphalt. His feet find ground shortly after, he lifts his arms and holds the stance, bouncing a bit as the adrenaline makes him feel jittery. Coughing out the last of the smoke from his lungs and swiping the back of his sleeve across his mouth, he challenges the group, facing the lot, "Who's next?!"
Skilled as he appears to be, the young crimelord cannot weather the concerted efforts levelled against him indefinitely. He does, however, perpetuate a defense against the worst of the flurry: the ire-fueled, injured maniac coming straight back in after being told, demonstrably and in no uncertain terms, to sit the hell back. That onslaught of flying elbows and ringing fists is caught on aligned forearms, a paced retreat bringing Kain backwards... which does nothing for the assault on his flanks.
He's not so much pinned down as surrounded momentarily, hammered by a fists and feet for several harsh moments before the bruised and wielder of night's flame clears himself an exit: directly /through/ the button man who hit him last, looking to open that circling pack with a fresh wound. Kain inverts amidst a shockwave of flaring fire not unlike the attack he began with, though this one forms a ragger crescent blade as Kain flips skyward and inverts, seeking to launch his adversary amidst a cloud of punishing fire that would follow his ascent... and rain napalm down about his fall, churning and devouring air in its wake.
COMBATSYS: Kain successfully hits Hitsquad with Schwarzer Mond.
KAIN
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1|-----------====|===============
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Hitsquad 1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0 Rock
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Towa 0/-------/=======|
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The hitman in Kain's way is unfortunate, the deceptive power in the well-dressed man's style rendering the night's first (non-civilian!) casualty in dramatic fashion. He's scorched, all but shorn by the vibrant gouts of dark energy, his tracksuit shattered and sidearm lost, a firebomb skitting out into the thoroughfare. When the bloodied man skids to the pavement similarly, he doesn't move, lying crumpled in ways a body just wasn't meant to land-- all but shredded by burns and lacerations even before his impact.
Kain lands beyond the maimed thug by all appearances dispassionate and unharried, barely stressing and calmly shrugging off the bruising impacts of the fight so far as he lands on one knee and bends his other leg, coiled to strike again even as he casts an intent glance to Rock on his flank. There's no shift to the grimly stoic set to the dark pyromancer's mouth-- but his eyes almost smirk, reflecting the chaotic flames that roar about them. Even as the team calls for a tactical retreat and falls back around the far SUV, adding to the inferno by announcing their departure with satchel charges that erupt in hungry flash-flame across the lot, the wheels of their other car giving way with a harsh pop and a protesting hiss as the armored vehicle crashes to the ground.
Wall braves that fire, still in a frenzy that can only be the product of drugs or vast, angry desperation, chasing -after- Kain as he breaks their siege and seeking to clinch him amidst those firebombs. They made one hell of a fortune from one hell of a down-payment on this contract, and took the gig from some dangerous, dangerous men... they've killed fighters before, what's this ponce got that they didn't? Help from a second prodigy, for one thing: Rock's takedown is half of the impetus for the sudden change in tactics, and Towa falls back with the men in her team only after she manages to pick herself up-- bleeding from several nasty cuts-- off the pavement.
She's several steps into her sprint before she snaps that revolver back over Rock's way, looking to stave off pursuit through application of magnum rounds in triplicate. With any luck, the fire will stop both of them... though it doesn't seem to intimidate the suited blonde, a flex of his arm summoning an aura of fire about his feet even as he collides with that massive bald enforcer anew, defending as deftly as he can amidst a primary goal: thrusting the surging excess of summoned fire off at one of the men trying to fall back to cover, twin meteors of dark flame with hearts white as the angriest star coiling about one another in a furious chase to sizzle flesh from their foe's back.
COMBATSYS: Kain just-defends Hitsquad's Molotov Storm EX!
KAIN
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1|-----------====|===============
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Hitsquad 0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Wall 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: Kain dodges Wall's Crude Rude Combo EX.
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
1|-----------====|===============
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Hitsquad 0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Wall 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: Rock just-defends Hitsquad's Molotov Storm EX!
KAIN
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
1|-----------====|===============
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Hitsquad 0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Wall 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: Rock blocks Towa's Medium Shot.
KAIN
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
1|-----------====|===============
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Hitsquad 0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Wall 0/-------/-----==|
So, are they all a bunch of limp-wristed wimps or what? The hitsquad doesn't respond to provocation, they turn their backs on the Howard scion and run for the second SUV. That's... surprising, but I suppose Kain must be a little intimidating. The teen accepts the mooks' defeat all the same and does nothing to stop them, relaxing his fists and his stance. Rock isn't the sort of person who picks on the weak, the scared, or chases a fleeing opponent. He's not his father, making a grand show of his real or imagined superiority and swiftly crushing any who oppose him underfoot. There is mercy in the boy, for a friend or for his enemy...
One day, it may be his undoing. To allow an adversary to escape means that they may yet return to strike again, he knows... But Rock can't live with that sort of hatred in his heart, that fear of reprisal. His choice would be the same no matter how many times he'll need to decide in a lifetime.
This ideology was brought to you by the Legendary Wolf, Terry Bogard.
Unfortunately, while retreat was in their best interests, the hired muscle is not gone without leaving a gift by which they will be remembered. It's like a napalm bomb goes off in the lot. Rock's scarlet eyes widen to their limits and he is temporarily blind. He throws his arms around his face to protect it from fire and flames. From his back, great wings of brilliant amethyst chi unfurl and spread; the teen looks about to take flight. As he curls in on himself, they are drawn around him, forming a transparent barrier that hardens into an effective shield. The boy feels the intense heat, it disturbs his fair hair, but the raging conflagration cannot consume him.
His breath comes in laboured gasps, his heart hammers at his ribs and cursed blood begins to boil. Banishing the wings with a wild and desperate swipe, doing so allows the last three shots from Towa's revolver to breach his defenses. "Che!" The boy is pierced in the upper muscle of his arm, but his sleeve is soaked already. It's hard to tell, aside from the pain and the grit of his teeth, that Rock was even hit at all. At least one of the barrage is avoided completely, but a line marks his thigh, a blossoming blaze of red across his flesh, scorched and raw. "You..." Something or other. Insulting a girl is difficult!
Slouching over, gripping his wrist, his hand wreathed in violet chi, Rock releases a shuddering sigh of relief. Yes, he still stands knock-kneed in the midst of the burning wasteland, near the broken husk of the first armored vehicle. Crimson eyes lift and survey the damage, then to Kain, who has likely put an end to Wall by this point... Dry lips part to speak, but what would he say to someone so... Detached. Uncaring. Someone who seems darkly amused by this entire situation, and exacts each attack with deadly precision and without a hint of remorse.
Rock turns away, seeing now the bent form of a goon who decorates the pavement, folded in half and (possibly) dead. With great effort, the heir of Geese Howard puts one foot in front of the other, lumbering along like a zombie until he reaches the crumpled form, collapsing down onto his knees. The teen reaches out, placing his forefinger and middle against the man's throat, locating a weak pulse after moments of searching. "He needs help..." It's fading, slowly, "Hey, help me-- Hey--!!" No, too late. The teen is filled with righteous anger that he does his best to contain, withdrawing his shaking arm and settling back on his heels. This was not how he wanted to spend his evening, empty stomach turning over, bile rising in his throat.
COMBATSYS: Rock takes no action.
KAIN
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
1|-----------====|===============
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Hitsquad 0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Wall 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: Hitsquad blocks Kain's Schwarze Flamme.
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
1|--------=======|===============
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Wall 0/-------/-----==|
Once again, Kain serves as a sort of dark mirror to Rock. Darting around the last ditch assault by the tower called Wall, the enigmatic firewielder faces down the onslaught of his element with a smirk. If not a direct translation, there's certainly some interpolation going on between the reactions of each blonde battler. As Rock folds in around himself, fights those flames with his own defensive aura, Kain weaves one graceful hand forward with a flourish, leather gloved hand tensing to a fist suddenly as the explosions in a radius around him seem to part like a particularly burning sea, licks of flame blooming to life along that dismissive limb.
There seems to be little sadistic pleasure taken in the encounter-- but a cold, analytical certainty, a certain unwavering, icy fury are givens. These operatives -are- trying to kill him, after all.. and he wouldn't even be their first, tonight. If Heinlein has any concern for the broken and battered left behind, those threatened by their own firebombs, well: it does not show. Instead, he's focused on the hitsquad, as one of its members manages to weather the dark blast of fire at the cost of his firearm, quickly stripping molten fabrics from his body as they burn further into arms and chest.
The egress around the SUV may have been opportune, flight may even be wise: but that's not how it goes down. An armored cargo van matching the decor of the twin SUVs screeches around the street corner and up that half-block to the conflict, twisting about in a haphazard handbrake stop to crash one bumper into the SUV, furthering the cover provided to the hunkering hitmen. Those back doors are thrown open in short order, and two armored men immediately deploy on one knee, raising assault weapons to the ready.
Two behind them, still in the van, do the same, and together they blanket the street in fire of a less literal sort, emptying clips in short order with a vehemence that threatens even the still-raging muscleman who is -still- trying to get a solid hold on Kain.. to say nothing of the two young fighters. Wall's attempt this time is to crash his forehead into the less-than-cooperative target's face violently. Towa stays under cover behind the SUV and reloads, refilling the magnum rounds spent on bleeding Rock and breathing a silent prayer their timely reinforcements are enough-- this operation is NOT exactly going as drilled. The murderous thugs remaining of the initial four-- three, technically two and a half men with near-shattered morale-- flank around Kain's position to charge in from either side, looking to help (whatever remains of) Wall in his effort to restrain Kain.
COMBATSYS: Extraction Squad has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
1|--------=======|===============
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Extraction Squad 0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Wall 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: Towa focuses on his next action.
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
1|--------=======|===============
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Extraction Squad 0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Wall 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Kain dodges Extraction Squad's Strong Weapon Fire.
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
1|--------=======|===============
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Extraction Squad 0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Wall 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Kain dodges Wall's Combo Grapple.
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
1|--------=======|===============
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Extraction Squad 0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Wall 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Kain blocks Hitsquad's Multiple Tackles.
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
1|-------========|===============
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Extraction Squad 0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Wall 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Rock overcomes Strong Weapon Fire from Extraction Squad with Raging Storm+.
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
1|-------========|===============
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Extraction Squad 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Wall 0/-------/=======|
It's almost uncanny-- several rounds catch the edges of Kain's clothing, the ends of a tendril of luxurious blonde mane here and there, but not a single shot draws blood or breaks flesh on their primary target, the crimelord proving, well.. shockingly well prepared for this. The sweating and gasping for breath don't announce a man who is at his prime fighting peak, and Wall proves it to be just so, unable to lay a hand on Kain as the crimelord dances back, engaging the men on his flank one after another as their charges come, arms and legs deflecting the attempts to drive him down.
One pair is repulsed, the next swung wide, sent staggering behind Kain by shockingly forceful deflections that raise barely a sting on the pyromancer's limbs, and then they scatter further quite voluntarily. It's not a mystery /why/ for long: the white-gold surge is akin to a solar flare, a burst from the heart of a star, blinding, intense, /ridiculously/ hot so close to the core. Its center is at Kain's side, his hands braced, splayed in opposition to another as they channel that alarming might in an instant, tensed arms lunging forward to project it in a wildly fluctuating sphere.
The core is stable, alarmingly so, roiling inward around itself in spiritualized fusion as shockwaves of brilliant, flaring gold are sent off in all directions: it's swift, sudden, wavering along a shifting path and barreling inexorably down on the arriving van, threatening to obliterate that vehicle, Wall, and any number of the newly arrived Syndicate operatives in its wake, seemingly drawn to its targets, hungry to consume them. .. or perhaps it is they who are drawn towards the miniature sun that casts the dockside in long shadows and luminescent intensity, Kain's hair and longcoat blowing wildly behind him as he unleashes the onslaught.
Howard's only son believed the fight was over. He could collect his school things, maybe, if they're still intact. He planned to question Kain, perhaps he would suckerpunch the man, and... Call the police? Head home? Something. Anything. Rock needs some quick first aid, needs a shower, time to himself to think and process...
However, he realizes his error shortly, and the battle continues. This is madness. Absolute chaos in its purest form.
Reinforcements arrive, yet another van hurtles down the street and brakes hard, metal crunching metal as it slides into the second SUV. More assault rifles, more hired mercenaries. The Howard scion reels as he tries to follow the action, head snapped back to look over his shoulder. It's just too much. He rises with a staggering step, his balance threatened by the exhaustion he feels as his cursed blood burns its way through his veins, the creeping darkness invading his consciousness. Rock sends a hand back through his blonde hair to dispell it, dirt and debris dislodged by thin fingers. "You gotta be kidding me." he grouses.
There is a flare of red at the barrel of each gun when the mercs open fire, covering the lot with a spray of bullets. They do not discriminate, Rock is figuratively dragged into the thick of things yet again. He has enough time to vent a disgruntled snort through his nose, nostrils flaring gently. "Jerks."
Summoning the horrible energy that is his birthright comes at a great cost, but the boy pays the price without complaint. He will not die here, it would be a waste. Whisps of violet chi dance in the night, coil around his slender frame like translucent snakes. They pulse brighter, expanding. "RAGING..." Rock falls back on one knee, resting his chest against his thigh. A deep breath provides his lungs with the oxygen required to bellow, "/STOOOORM/!!" Muscles in his arms bulge as he swings them down, knuckles brushing against the asphalt. The teen is at the epicentre of a seismic explosion, the pavement cracks and crumbles beneath him. Violent scythes of bluish-purple erupt from the schisms and are thrust outwards in a shockwave that meets the gunfire and disintegrates it. They carry on, the destructive force heralding its arrival with dazzling radiance as it descends on the cargo van to rend it asunder!
Kain, he has a very similar idea.
Heinlein's attackers do little to slow him down; when he strikes, the teen and the businessman work together in tandem, unintentionally. If there's anything left of the vehicle, then fortune smiles down on the hitsquad, for now. Rock rests in the crater that his terrible power created, waging war within himself, forcing back the part of him that could grow to love this and desires more of it. Swallowing thickly, the crimson-eyed gaze travels to the other blonde, pupils narrowed in what might be mounting dislike or suspicion.
COMBATSYS: Kain successfully hits Wall with Himmlische Seele+.
+ Epic Hit! +
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|--------------=
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Extraction Squad 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ <
Wall 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
COMBATSYS: Rock successfully hits Extraction Squad with Raging Storm+.
+ Epic Hit! +
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|--------------=
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Extraction Squad 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ <
Wall 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
COMBATSYS: Kain successfully hits Extraction Squad with Himmlische Seele+.
+ Epic Hit! +
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|--------------=
[ \\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Extraction Squad 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|==-----\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ <
Wall 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
Twin waves of chi, rampaging waves of purple-white and solar gold rip through their opposition. Wall is the first to feel it, his flesh searing, flashburned by the passage of that too-immense chistorm. The large man is thrown away like a ragdoll, rebounding through the restaurant he and his people destroyed-- not quite instant karma, but it comes close. Chunks of ashphalt are thrown hither and yon by the explosive wave unleashed by the Syndicate scion, and each chunk of shrapnel that careens into the path of Kain's celestial sphere is molten into the flash of a meteor, there and gone on entry. The comet, the wave, those crash with meteoric intensity across all four men and their van-- no one escapes.
Rock closes their only avenue, and from there the fates are sealed: the van itself is shorn in twain, the killsquad thrown to either side, tumbling end over flaming, windshorn end across unforgiving pavement. The vehicle crushes one, lands atop another, the other half carrying a soldier end over end clear, to land in a skid of sparks and agony. The only solace the team has, as Kain advances... are the live grenades dropping free, a whole bandolier's worth... if too little too late to halt the onslaught of chi. One thing's for certain: these boys knew what they were doing, and came armed for bear. Unfortuntely, they got-- I dunno, Moose and Squirrel? More accurately, perhaps: Tiger and Hawk.
Towa sees the writing on the wall: she's not even up from behind the SUV for a moment before she's already in flight, firing back towards Kain and Rock with every round in that pistol as she runs sidelong at full tilt, clear of the blast sight, straight for the exit line of the battlefield. The two men in fighting shape of the three initial thugs who managed to fall back fade in on either side of Kain in the wake of the rampant explosions, seeking (hoping?) to put the finishing touch on the man-- he /must/ be tiring by now, right?
COMBATSYS: Extraction Squad can no longer fight.
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|--------------=
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
[ <
Wall 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
COMBATSYS: Wall takes no action.
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|--------------=
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Wall can no longer fight.
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|--------------=
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Kain dodges Extraction Squad's Scorch The Earth.
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|--------------=
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Kain just-defends Towa's Covering Fire!
KAIN
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|--------------=
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Hitsquad successfully hits Kain with Medium Strike.
- Power hit! -
KAIN
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-----------====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
Far more quickly than his steady, certain advance comes Kain's abrupt retreat. He's not even one extra step forward once that first grenade drops cludding to the ground before he's in backwards motion, leaping abruptly away from that point of contact and clearing an alarming distance in an instance-- one hand is all it takes to shield him from the blast, hair blasted back by the borders of the shockwave as the last of the bandolier goes up. Two sleek German sedans round the corner from either end, now, but rather than roaring up for another driveby these newcomers pull up quite sedately, calmly, crossing over each side of the road to block in the chaos. No sirens, no flashes of badges-- the Southtown PD are still conspicuously absent. Typical.
The first bullet from the fleeing Towa is caught by the shockwave, and catches Kain's attention. The next is subsumed in a flare of fiery chi, one hand calmly collecting it from midair in so many component molecules. That tendril of blackest fire is coolly applied to the next in turn, but Kain's defense falters when the two forgotten hitmen engage him in tandem. His block comes too late, his weave too slow, pummeled about the face and knees by fists, elbows, and feet-- but it hardly seems to slow him down.
Crimson eyes narrow darkly as a torrent of chi surges about his body and reaves one bootheel around in a brutal roundhouse to the midsection. The windup is meant to take down one, a crescent of cruel fire following the stroke-- its momentum /launching/ Kain like a fire-tipped torpedo at his other clear and present foe with a kiai that's three quarters to a roar.
COMBATSYS: Rock blocks Towa's Covering Fire.
KAIN
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|-------------==
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Hitsquad 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Kain successfully hits Hitsquad with Schwarzer Stob.
! VENGEANCE !
KAIN
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|------=========
[ \\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Hitsquad 1/----===/=======|==-----\-------\0 Rock
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Towa 0/-------/=======|
The first of the mercenaries to fall, Wall's hulking frame clears the lot and crashes into the burning restaurant. He continues to smash through what remains of tables and chairs, supports that have been steadily eaten away at by horrible flames of crimson and gold fold in half, completely giving way at last. The roof hits the shanty's stone foundation with a great gust of wind and a thunderous crash that can be heard even faintly for miles. At the teen's feet, the pavement trembles, the tremor that passes through the earth rippling out as far as the water's edge. There is another very distinct noise that causes the young American's eyes to widen: His bike just fell over. Fantastic. Rock's going to have one helluva time explaining to his teachers just why he requires a whole new set of textbooks, AND he may need to get his beloved Honda repaired. Goddammit.
With the fires either extinguished or caught on other buildings -- plumes of scarlet flare brilliantly and begin reducing the neighbouring structures to rubble -- Rock straightens up, appearing to be half of his height because the great depression in the ground beneath him is so deep. He can't see through the choking smoke and hot ash, not until it lifts, lazily crawling skywards. Forget the Southtown Police, what this place really needs is the fire department. No sirens can be heard in the distance because neither are reliable.
Rock sighs, resignation written all over his dirt-streaked face. Staring solemnly at the aftermath of dual efforts once he is able, the van shorn in two, there is still that sinking pit in his stomach when he forces himself to accept that he can do nothing to help. A good person at heart despite his cursed lineage, the Howard scion did not wish this end upon them, even if the goons would've killed him just for being in the wrong place. It's all Kain's fault. Scrubbing a hand down over his cheeks and smearing the soot around, he climbs out from the crater and searches for his fellow blonde again, this time not to glare with dislike or suspicion but hatred.
Towa fires at him again, as well as Heinlein, as she wisely takes her leave. The smallish bullets from her pistol have a hard time hitting a moving target as Rock launches into an assault. They sear across arms and one leg, accomplishing little in the way of stopping or deterring him, but the Japanese girl isn't his target, not anymore. Charging for the besuited man and his attackers, feet pounding the grenade-scorched asphalt, he's entirely uncertain just what he'll do when he gets there, Geese Howard's only heir--
"What the?!"
Just like that, Heinlein stands while the other two men lay at his feet, the blackest of flames burning out on their clothes. Rock slows to a trot, then stops. He is flummoxed, at a loss for words until the most inappropriate ones that hardly fit the situation are summoned to his dry and cracked lips, "You're an ass." The teen doesn't have an explanation for it and makes no apologies or excuses. What's said is said. He does, however, regain his bearings after slipping a hand through his tousled locks of blonde hair, "Who are you, anyway? What gives?" His fingers curl in, forming fists, "Was all that /really necessary/?" Why can't you people take your gang warfare and squabbles somewhere else? He might reach out to grab at Kain's collar.
This could be bad -- Rock is so preoccupied that he doesn't notice the two sedans that have arrived. They could be friend to Kain R. Heinlein or foe. Both options are equally unfavourable to him...
Kain stands steadily, too steadily, from the collision with the last able man trying to kill him-- or is it the inverse, at this point? He reaches one hand up and adjusts the collar of his shirt, the way his jacket hangs on his shoulders; a paradoxically gentle hand rises to brush hair back from where the subtlest sweats has been raised amidst the fire and brutality. He glances back towards the restaurant, watching.. perhaps waiting. It is, after all, difficult to say whether the knowing smirk Kain wears under deceptively stoic embers for eyes. For a moment, he barely seems to be looking at Rock, but rather through the young Howard, and Heinlein's initial answer to the criticism is that continuing, damnable smirk-- a wolfish, curious cant to his head.
"Necessary? These men came to kill me." The statement of the obvious is deep, rich, subtly melodic; somehow at once utterly neutral and intent, evocative. It could be the steady burn behind those eyes selling the fervor. "I do not hold court with death." Heinlein has only one thing to say to death: and the results of the philosophy litter the street around him with bodies and broken vehicle hulls. Behind the young warriors, the stand burns, everyone within either liberated-- or trapped. Perhaps fortuitously, stormclouds echo rumbles of thunder across the sky, rolling in quickly off the sea; Kain draws a deep, hearty breath of that breeze. "Who am I?" This question seems to amuse the taller blonde, "If they had come for you? Would you die for them?"
There's a curiousity to the query that's quite sincere, the stranger's features now quite sober-- though Rock is given little time to answer. Kain's not finished, for one, "A wolf's shadow or a tyrant's legacy, Rock Howard? Will you even know, before you die?" Any stroke for his collar is met with a blocking, intersecting arm, and regardless... an assault follows. "Who are /you/?" Sincere question or not: Kain does his level best to lay Rock out proper. No firebombs, no assault weapons, he just sends a fist straight for the younger fighter's solar plexus, that reaving, sudden stroke wreathed in a sudden, wildly fluctuating surge of cruel-edged black fire. Enough in the flash of an eye to /launch/ Rock into a skid across the pavement-- if a bit less broken than others.
Kain ignores it because he knows it's happening.. and it's convenient for Rock to be focused in on the speech: In the background the sleek black sedans unload men in similarly sleek black suits wearing color-coordinated ties and vests that seem to identify one man from the next in the squad-- and high-tech shades, to a man. Several fan out and secure the perimeter, and even the one man crawling away is herded up... the sole exception is Towa, who's allowed to run free without contest. Several others check pulses and gather up the broken and fallen who are -not- dead... promptly binding them and working to stow them in those car's trunks.
COMBATSYS: Hitsquad lets out a large yawn, slouching.
KAIN
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|------=========
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Towa 0/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0 Rock
COMBATSYS: Hitsquad can no longer fight.
KAIN
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|------=========
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Towa 0/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0 Rock
COMBATSYS: Towa has left the fight here.
KAIN
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
0|---------------|------=========
> ///////////////// ]
|==-----\-------\0 Rock
COMBATSYS: Kain has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Kain 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Rock
COMBATSYS: Kain successfully hits Rock with Medium Punch.
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Kain 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Rock
He doesn't care for the smirk and Kain's melodic cadence does him no favours. Scoffing openly, brazenly, at simple statement of fact, it is done in full awareness that the businessman's life was never in danger, so don't jerk him around with your eloquent words or amusement. It leaves Rock with a bitter taste in his mouth, practically chewing on his disgust. When the bridge of the teen's nose wrinkles, lips pull back from white rows of teeth in a snarl.
'Would you die for them?'
"No, I wouldn't!" Rock snaps in reply, hand slashing through smoke as if he could swat the question down and stomp on it, drawing closer, "But I wouldn't kill them, either!" This is the moment, his fingertips an inch shy from brushing against the smooth collar of Kain's suit, "Are you finished? Answer me!" If he needs to throttle the response from Heinlein, so be it!
Or... not?!
His demand is met with something that temporarily deflates the boy, jaw dropping. He wants to ask, 'What did you say?' but his tongue is like lead and he is unable to speak with any coherence. Why would this person know, Rock is a nobody. A rookie, Terry often calls him. Kain even wonders aloud who /HE/ is, the utterance provoking all kinds of existential crises, but without the ability to sum up an indignant riposte, the Howard scion releases what amounts to a guttural growl before steeling his resolve and pressing onwards. Reaching, grasping fingers are deflected and the taller man steps in.
Kain buries his fist in the kid's midsection, the front of his white dress-shirt charred and blackened by obsidian flames. Beneath it, the skin is discoloured -- red and raw. Breath exits from his lungs in an audiable 'WHOOSH' before he spills onto the pavement, shredding the back of his top in the process. Crimson eyes burn with rage as he turns over, somersaulting. The very instant his feet touch the ground, Rock surges into motion, almost a blur as he hauls up his fist next to his ear and vaults high into the air, using one of the fallen thugs as a springboard to do so.
It sucks to be that guy, who groans weakly and is probably carried away in a minute or so to be stowed in the trunk of the car. What are these besuited men going to do with this lot? Rock has to stop them...
Arriving at the apex of his leap, the downward descent begins. Again the violet wing sprouts and spreads, but this time it is more refined. There is a beauty about it, and something sad. Infinitely sad. Amethyst chi wreaths the young wolf's arm, then it is flung out, infusing his punch while Rock dives at Kain. He seeks to plow straight into that face so similar to his own, perhaps striking the horrible expression from it at the same time. "I am who I am, that's all that matters!"
COMBATSYS: Kain dodges Rock's Rage Run Dunk EX.
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Kain 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Rock
"Do not mistake calm for ease." Kain may only be a handful of years the Howard boy's senior, but Heinlein has Seen Some Shit(tm). Rock may have hit the street running of late, with one of the kings of the hobos, no less.. but Kain was born in the slums of Southtown's seediest districts. "Death threatens men on the path you walk /every day/." Sometimes, those dice come up bad.. and it's time to put up or shut up; sometimes, for good. There are no apologies offered for that: Rock asked if it was necessary, Kain affirms a resounding 'Damn straight'.
Both statements may suddenly seem somewhat prophetic if Rock doesn't recover his footing quickly: as the Wolf's apprentice careens groundwards, there's only asphalt to split. Only air to decimate with that chi-imbued fist-- dark afterimages of Kain seem to trail the path he takes, even if he all but glides across it in the span of half a blink. He's there, and then he's not, and then he's casually summoning more of that relentless dark power that seems to answer his beck and call so effortlessly, a flaring plume rousing in his palm to spectacular degrees in an instant; the same instant in which it's flicked across, twin plumes of white-cored flame swirling about themselves in a meteoric rush for their prey.
Kain relocates in similar fashion with that blast, circling about the strewn roadside battleground by sheer virtue of the force of that unleashed chi.. with plenty more focused within, roaring strongly in answer to Rock's exertion. Perhaps there is more than one wolf on the prowl in Southtown. The crimson eyes that remain fixed on Rock have little trouble conveying the predatory threat, "If you can't answer such a simple thing... then how will you be certain you have lived?" A beat, a breath. "Before you find death unwilling to compromise with /you/."
COMBATSYS: Rock fails to slow Schwarze Flamme from Kain with Double Reppuken.
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Kain 1/-----==/=======|=======\=------\1 Rock
COMBATSYS: Rock keeps on fighting!
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Kain 1/-----==/=======|=======\=------\1 Rock
WHAM!
Rock hits the pavement with enough force to crack it, but he does not go so far as to break asphalt with his fist. At the very last second, he reels in his punch because Kain isn't there to hit. That's not good, he thinks, red eyes attempting to follow the slippery businessman's movements, to glean some small insight of where Heinlein may strike from next. He's never been particularly skilled at reading his opponent, the shuttering after-image confusing him, but that doesn't mean the boy will be caught unawares. The youth is slow; he's not entirely stupid.
Knees pop in protest while the Howard scion draws himself up, vertebrae realigning. He clicks his tongue, an irritated, "Tch!" permitted to escape. Raising his arms to attack or defend, whatever the situation warrants, there, ahead of him. "About time," he breathes. Crimson irises devour their blackened centres, lips pursing together and his jaw snapping shut in a determined set. The roaring obsidian conflagration springs to life, wielded by the taller man. With a wordless cry in answer, Rock hurls himself forward, rushing headlong into it like a blonde-haired bull.
It is reckless, foolhardy -- his temerarious nature may spell defeat or even death one day, but not today. Rock does not do this without purpose. He attempts to cut a path THROUGH the plumes of ebony to Kain by using his own chi, much the same as he had done earlier. Geese Howard's only son invokes the curse of his birthright, slicing with blazing twin flares of violet, yelling, "DOUBLE REPPUKEN!" Although it seems at first that he succeeds, the inferno closes back in, trapping him in the midst of it all.
Shit.
He knew the risks, the consequences of failure. The kid shields himself with his arms and energy, but their protection is minimal. Kain's black fire singes his hair, the tattered back of his dress-shirt. His sleeve catches, a pantleg catches, flesh bubbles into boils or the top layers of skin are completely seared away. Pain. Not the worst pain, but enough that Rock staggers and is thrown to the ground again, twisting so that he lands on his side and skids a few feet.
"Shut up!" This isn't over, not yet. The American teenager isn't willing to give up, it doesn't matter if he is clearly outmatched. He pushes up to sit and levels Kain with a glare, "Quit trying to mess with my head, you /bastard/!" Rock needs a moment, his chest heaving with every breath, gnashing his teeth together or grinding them in turn. The younger blonde ruffles his hair, feeling the damage done to silken strands and the grime that rests upon his scalp. Ugh... Sonuvabitch!
It rings in echo of a technique Kain has seen before-- the multiple stylings and remixes of that deadly wave of cruel might bread and butter to a man who was once like a distant father figure to the enigmatic flamewielder, as well. Not that he'd admit it to Rock-- but the familiarity, implicit in the alert gleam of the gaze that studies the technique, is certainly a notable commodity. Where the younger Howard is brash, headstrong.. the man suddenly cast as his adversary(?) is cool, calculating-- perhaps as predatory as any of the Southtown pack, cast on a peaceful winter's morn... with ample stars out, if the fiery show to this point is any indication.
"Echoes of another man's destiny." Kain observes icily as Rock recovers his footing, studying the impact of his own scorching fire with an analytical calculus; weighing his adversary based on what he sees, the more observant man might think. "You misunderstand me, Mr. Howard." Which Kain doesn't seem to hold against Rock-- that situation is maintained rather intentionally, after all. "I'm not a sadist like your beloved father." Word choice or no, there's no apparent love lost for Geese. The fire that comes to Kain's beckoning hand now is like a flare of purest light, white, tinged a brilliant blue along its flaring edges, surging to ready lift in his grasp like a ceremonial torch. "I came here to warn you. There is a harsh storm coming for you; and this city."
The chi is focused before him, brought forward on a flexed hand as the long-haired blonde eyes a man who could be his brother(?!?) over tht brilliant flare of purest, celestial flame. "You are not prepared." It's not a torch, not prelude to a wave-- it's a beacon. The energy's shockwave is deep and profound enough to swirl a part in the lowest clouds in the instants before it forms several yards above the battlefield-- as if the fires of the very stars were lashing out at Rock. The wave is broader than the Howard heir, as tall as either man, wildly flaring with cruel white and blue fires somehow as sleekly dark as they are blindingly bright, not so much falling as /striking/ downwards like a bolt from beyond; for the half-instants before it /explodes/ in a fearsome shockwave about the point where Rock currently regains his bearings.
COMBATSYS: Kain successfully hits Rock with Himmlischer Atem.
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Kain 0/-------/------=|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Rock
"Don't you... call him my father! I am no son of /THAT MAN/!!" Rock shouts his claim to Kain and to the heavens high above, false though it may be. He forces his smoking, battered frame to stand, unsteady on his feet. A strong breeze and the teen would topple yet again, only this time he wouldn't persist. The Howard scion would remain there, the last vestige of his consciousness slipping away...
Good thing there's no wind, just a distant roll of thunder, the smell of ozone permeating the air and forecasting rain.
He doesn't walk in fear of collapsing, merely holding his ground. Broad shoulders rise and fall with each ragged breath. Rock's scarlet-coloured eyes are overbright and alert for now, but their corners are creased in agony. Lips work themselves into a pained scowl, hands clench and unclench. "A storm...?" The teenager begins to ask, tone conveying the puzzlement his expression cannot, "Why are you speaking in riddles, I don't understand!" Is the businessman being literal? State yourself in plain terms or shut your mouth, is what he doesn't add.
His face lit by the summoned flames; were he not so preoccupied by his own discomfort and fury, Rock might've been shocked to see that these are not the inky black plumes which he has grown to associates with Kain. No, they're white with blue tips, and possess an ethereal quality. A deadly beauty. 'You are not prepared,' Heinlein says and is proven correct. When the great fireball hones in on the beacon and bursts like a dying star on their battleground, dissolving into a nebulous smoke cloud, Geese Howard's heir does nothing. He is at the centre of it, then is ejected by the ensuing explosion. It's like seeing Hell. /Feeling/ Hell, and it strikes to the very core of his being.
The boy flies, and he flies far in an arc, smashing down on the back of his shoulders and neck before his legs wind over. Another wave and he turns over again, coming to a halt as he is thrown against the side of his bike. Rock lays there, arms spread, dead weight. Even though his chest moves to signify his continued existence, the darkness has closed in on him and he moves no more. His last thought is that one day, he'll be stronger... And when that day comes, he'll find Kain.
It is over.
COMBATSYS: Rock takes no action.
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Kain 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Rock can no longer fight.
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Kain 0/-------/------=|
Log created on 19:45:00 11/06/2014 by Kain, and last modified on 21:06:40 11/24/2014.