Description: An experiment in social interaction goes poorly when Yun's severe sensei decides to leverage a visiting NESTS operative as an object lesson.
In a sense, Yun should be grateful-- it's the most serious workout his kung-fu has had since coming to Genhanten, ostensibly to improve his kung-fu. In reality, shielding him from the grim realities of the Hong Kong underworld may have something to do with it, but his eccentric master chef of a 'grandfather' isn't talking. No, Gen is one part source of eccentric proverbs, one part harsh drillmaster, and one part snarky observer, though the ease with which the santoku in his gnarled, muscular old fingers chops and dices a series of fresh vegetables in a eye-defying flurry of steel and motion speaks subtly to the hidden depths of this particular old propreitor and sifu; though subtlety is often lost on one of his newest projects, a boy who is /pretty/ sure Gen is only in it for the slave labor.
Truth be told: this hasn't stopped being funny to the old man yet. "Yun!" A fierce tone of voice that the young fighter would be familiar with by now, be it stirring him from his katas, meditations, or work, shouts out as the Twin Dragon crosses Gen's field of view, "Bus those side tables, re-set them, quickly boy!!" The rush? It's actually winding down, in the darkening hours past dinner, one of the few orders currently being prepared on the broad grill occupying large parts of the rear of the restaurant sizzling to life as Gen casually flips it into place accompanied a spatter of oil and citrus.
Even the aged tutor who's done this a thousand million time pauses to inhale with satisfaction. It doesn't last. A moment later, he remembers himself, tapping the nonexistant watch at his bony wrist and /eyeballing/ Yun. The kid is slow! It's not Gen's fault, it's a /fact/!
In a sense, Yun should be grateful-- the line of amateur fighters looking to beat his ass for free chow is the most serious workout his kung-fu has had since coming to Genhanten... ostensibly to improve his kung-fu. In reality, shielding him from the grim realities of the Hong Kong underworld may have something to do with it, but his eccentric master chef of a 'grandfather' isn't talking. No, Gen is one part source of eccentric proverbs, one part harsh drillmaster, and one part snarky observer, though the ease with which the santoku in his gnarled, muscular old fingers chops and dices a series of fresh vegetables in a eye-defying flurry of steel and motion speaks subtly to the hidden depths of this particular old propreitor and sifu; though subtlety is often lost on one of his newest projects, a boy who is /pretty/ sure Gen is only in it for the slave labor.
Truth be told: this hasn't stopped being funny to the old man yet. "Yun!" A fierce tone of voice that the young fighter would be familiar with by now, be it stirring him from his katas, meditations, or work, shouts out as the Twin Dragon crosses Gen's field of view, "Bus those side tables, re-set them, quickly boy!!" The rush? It's actually winding down, in the darkening hours past dinner, one of the few orders currently being prepared on the broad grill occupying large parts of the rear of the restaurant sizzling to life as Gen casually flips it into place accompanied a spatter of oil and citrus.
Even the aged tutor who's done this a thousand million time pauses to inhale with satisfaction. It doesn't last. A moment later, he remembers himself, tapping the nonexistant watch at his bony wrist and /eyeballing/ Yun. The kid is slow! It's not Gen's fault, it's a /fact/!
Yun Lee is only slow when he's being told what to do. And that's pretty much all the time because Gen likes to tell him what to do. For some reason. "Relax, Old Man. I'll get it done before you die." Yun mutters this mostly under his breath but he does show a small bit of courage by saying mumbling it loud enough for old ears to hear as well. "We think, anyway." Yun smirks to himself, amused by his own insulting words of response.
Regardless, though, Yun is moving with a step or two of quickness in an effort to get to those tables and get to work. No skateboard this time, he's using his feet and hopping from one table to the other to collect dishes and balancing act them with skill and ease. And then he's moving off towards the kitchen so that he can make them disappear and Gen doesn't have to be talking about them for the rest of this shift.
The Genhanten seems to be a location that is popping up in local rumors, news, and interest stories regarding fighting. Word has it the old man that runs the place is more than he seems and the two teens that are always working and/or slacking around the place when not being supervised are supposedly more than they seem as well. For being a bit off the main street, it seems its reputation keeps people diverting to its doors all the same.
A quiet figure crosses the threshold. A teenager herself, she pauses when just inside, violet eyes studying the interior of the establishment with the kind of reservation that would suggest she isn't familiar with how this all is supposed to work. Her clothing is definitely not in-fashion at the moment, a black bodysuit with leather pants and an unzipped, leather, long sleeved jacket worn over her torso. Her hair is long, strawberry blonde, and unrestrained aside from a few, small, tight braids near each ear.
Her hands are covered in yellow gloves so thick as to nearly be gauntlets. It has been cold recently, so it isn't entirely out of the ordinary for warm handwear to be featured on some people as of late, but these seem a bit overkill for the job. Her left hand is clenched in a fist with a wad of yen bills sticking out a little bit. So she doesn't seem to be here in pursuit of the rumor about free food in exchange for punches, at least. Though given the way she just stands at the entry, it's not entirely clear what she is here for. Waiting to be seated, perhaps?
If she does her job right, as she's been taught, no one will know that the establishment has been selected as a test site to see how Kula Diamond can cope with everyday situations on her own. This can't possibly go wrong. Glancing around the room, she remains quiet, mouth in a faint frown born out of a touch of apparent nervousness.
"Hmmmn." Really, Yun doesn't do a bad job clearing off that table. Nimble, efficient-- the kid is getting better. Though it warrants little more than a satisfied grunt as Gen stirs his cooking, and becomes abruptly distracted by Kula's appearance in the doorway. To the old master's credit his cooking is reflexive and perfect, unfettered by the stir of quiet surprise at just /who/ has walked into his establishment. To say Kula is scarcely Genhanten's normal clientele is fair-- but she's not pushing the envelope as far as she might most places. One or two regulars eating a late meal whispers that she -might- be here as a challenger for the Twin Dragons-- either of whom are already earning a name for themselves in /this/ neighborhood and establishment as giving as good as they get.
Gen just arches his snowy brows intently, considering the newcomer from behind the cover of glass and lighting as he works his grill, "Yun." It's a bit calmer, this time, but no less intent. A nod is paid to Kula, "See to our new guest." There's a sly gleam to the old man's eye, an almost amused undertone that he can't-- or doesn't bother to-- hide. Maybe /Gen/ assumes Kula is here to beat dim sum out of Yun, himself. But that's ridiculous, right? Nothing could go wrong, indeed...
Gen adds, as if in meandering afterthought, "I do believe that little girl holds more true kung-fu than you.. OR your brother." What's /actually/ something of a warning, a deep observation of a disturbing truth, rings out in a casual murmur that no doubt sounds as petty insult to the Twin Dragon; it's /entirely/ likely this is totally on purpose.
"Ugh. Why /me/? Can't Jackie do it?"
Yun turns to look at Mr. Chan. But Mr. Chan is currently getting his hand bandaged up after a freak accident with a wok. Yun sighs and moves closer to the glass to look out and in the general direction of the person that doesn't look like a regular customer to this establishment. He knows most of the people that come here to chow down. He knows their orders. Their names. Their daughters. But this one he doesn't know.
But she's cute. So that's all going to change.
"Uhhh. Yeah. I got you, Granddude." Yun snatches up his skateboard from leaning on the wall and skates out of the kitchen and into the dining room. Immediately, the waitstaff in the way flails as they are almost knocked over. One of them does fall, their pad flipping end over end into the air, which Yun catches as he 'rounds a table full or regulars. One of those regulars holds up a pen, Yun snatches it and skids to a halt right next to Kula's table.
"Hey hey hey! Welcome to Genhanten. Name's Yun. I sorta' kinda' own this place. So you're getting the royal treatment from the door." Yun winks and balances on his skateboard, bringing the order pad and pen up for viewing purposes. "What can I get ya' besides a date with Yours Truly?" Oh bother.
The stranger at the door, after several seconds of awkwardly standing around, finally settles in at the nearest available table. The process is slow and almost tedious, as she moves to stand behind the chair, backs up a step to pull it straight back with her right hand, then walks around it to sit down in it. Only then she finds that she is too far from the table itself, having to extend her arms a ways to reach it. Frowning, the strawberry-blonde pushes back up to her feet, steps around the chair again, pushes it forward a half-foot, then moves back in front of it and sits down. Lifting her arms, she tests the distance between her and the table's surface and appears to be satisfied since she doesn't repeat the process a third time.
Now seated, she breathes in then exhales. Her left hand is still closed tightly over the yen bills while her right hand rests at the edge of the table, fingers hanging on, while her attenton begins to stray over the establishment itself. She is still pretty much up to that with no signs of changing anytime soon when Yun finally blazes a disruptive trail her way. Violet eyes coming to rest on him as he introduces himself. The smile that comes to her lips is slow in forming, flickering at the corners of her mouth from smiling to not as if not entirely sure which expression to stick with. Did he make that confusing of an impression?
She leans to the side in a blatent look at where Yun's feet are. "Um." She sits up straighter then, looking him over from head to toe without answering his question yet. "Is this a park for skating? Or..." She hms softly, glancing away from Yun to look around the place again, "I... do not really need the date. I am here to purchase and consume food." The statement is spoken somewhat matter of factly as if she has no idea that she is brushing aside a not-so-subtle pickup line. Who cares what day it is, right? She's hungry, and her handlers are trying to evaluate how well she blends in during a common social situation. So far she is not getting a great grade.
Her right hand lifts to brush fingers through her hair and move some of it back behind her ear. "Is helping with that your purpose?" she asks, sounding hopeful but uncertain.
There's the softest of scoffings as Yun changes his tune midstream and literally hurtles off to wait on Kula. Some people are so fickle. For Gen's part, his attention is focused on the experiment undergoing an experiment as well, but for rather entirely different reasons. The nuances of body language-- or those Kula is missing, in this case. The subtle power that the old master senses at the diminutive girl's core. Far more curious on the whole than the success or failure of Yun's latest flirtation; though from where Gen is standing, the honed weapon is clearly /uncomfortable/. Score one for the Twin Dragon?
The meal-in-progress is flipped sizzling across the grill, chopped and mixed then distributed evenly onto two plates which are handed off to a waitress with an even nod-- the first break of Gen's attention in the proceedings, slicing an dicing like second nature. "Well look at that." Gen narrates his study of the Dragon and the Princess, speaking softly to no one in particular as he fries up a couple eggs, "He finally manages /not/ to pick a fight." And with a killing machine. Gen squints, huffing quietly as he finishes up behind the grill, ".. yet." The night is young, Yun's ability to handle awkward rejection? Under review.
"Girl, my purpose is so much more. But right now, I'm at your service." Yun spins on the skateboard, snatches a menu out of the hands of some couple at the table next to Kula's and as his circle motion comes fully around, he offers it right to the girl that he's trying to get his mack on with. "If I may be so bold, allow me to make a recommendation."
Yun tosses the pen behind his ear and pockets the order pad with some quickness. He's not wearing one of those aprons or anything, so it goes into his pants pocket. "I'd say go for the kung pao. Personally, I love the Dragonfire version because it has an extra little kick of spice to it." Yun crouches low on his board, planting his arms on the edge of the table and leans his chin right down on top of them. He plasters on his visible boyish charm. The one that has Hoimei following him around every other day. And with the biggest smile on his face he adds, "And for a dessert, I'm thinking a heaping helping of Yun Lee." Yun winks. "On the house."
Yun's response provokes a furrow of curiosity of the new customer's brow. Being at her service is an unexpected state for anyone to be in. No one at what passes for her home would ever say something like that! "My name is Kula, not girl," she answers him after a moment. "Kula Diamond!" The last name is spoken with particular emphasis. It isn't part of her official project designation but she was given the appellation all the same, unique among the living projects within NESTs. It meant she was special, she was certain.
Her violet eyes stay focused on Yun as he speaks, watching him spin around for the menu and provide it, moving with far too much dexterity for just a standard short order waiter. A hesitant nod of her head indicates consent to to the offer of a recommendation. Taking advice is something she can do well. The recommended dish seems to interst her until he continues and his patron shakes her head, a sudden look of distaste, "Ew, no, I don't like fire, especially from dragons, I think."
She leans forward as Yun rests his chin on the table, as if trying to keep her face roughly at the same level as his, even if it means bending a bit awkwardly over the table, locks of her hair falling off her left shoulder to drape over the table itself. "Yun Lee? Is that sweet? Is it tasty?" she asks, eyes widening a little.
It's so close to a decent sell-- even if Kula wasn't a fan of the spice, well. The house's sweet garlic sauces are to die for, as well. Or is that to kill for? The way the unlikely assassin appends her last name -- which can't /possibly/ be made up -- clinches it. Or maybe it was Yun's mouth. It's hard to say when, precisely, the swift and silent old man crosses from his workplace to the restaurant floor, hands clasped behind him easily, concealed in the long sleeves of his fine silken robes, tonight's ensemble in rich purple and silver.
It's a relaxed posture they return to easily after aligning a sharp rap of the knuckles with the back of Yun's head, through that omnipresent ballcap. "The Yun Lee is normally a bit bitter, but exceptionally overdone tonight." Gen offers Kula dourly, balancing easily on one diminutive leg as he arches an eyebrow towards the girl, "But he neglects to inform you of one house special-- if your kung-fu exceeds his own, Yun Lee will not only serve you, he will serve you entire prize packages."
Some kind of sick sadist, pushing fight on Yun's level with a girl like Kula, right? The question is... in which direction? "Though if you came here purely to.. purchase consumable nutrients and calories, we will of course oblige." Cue brow arch. /Curious/, this one. Strange is a world the old master has walked in a time or three, however.
Yun sees and hears everything that Gen causes in that single moment... in slow motion. The entire time he's listening to this, he's trying to make his body move so that he can perhaps intercept this words but there is just too much power behind them for him to be ready for anything that could be coming his way during such events.
"Wait wait wait!" Yun gives a nod in the direction of Gen as he steps off his board and kicks it up into his palm. The board gets tucked under an arm. "Don't listen to this old man. He's off his rocker. We just keep him around because he has an awesome fortune cookie recipe." Yun is attempting to make Kula forget about such a offer dropped. He's not really in the mood for any sort of cooked meal and grins. "Besides, we just met. I think it'd be pretty messed up if I whooped that ass and /then/ took you out to have the time of your life." Well, it was supposed to be this ways. Things were falling into place. Or, at least, so Yun thought...
Somehow Gen makes his way to the table of interest without so much as being noticed. Kula sits up straight when he speaks, eyes widening a little as she glances up at chef she had noticed earlier but dismissed for his unassuming appearance. A quiet alarm goes off in her mind. She should not have been snuck up on. In fact, her first response to Gen speaking up is for her to look over her shoulder as if reconnoitering the Genhanten for any other surprisingly stealthy people she needs to be aware of. Finally, satisfied for now, she looks back at him, that same awkward but not insincere smile at her lips.
But her expression becomes more neutral as he explains further on a subject Yun would like nothing more for him to be silent about. "Hm..." She rests her left hand on the table and then draws it back, leaving the pile of yen she was given for this experiment sitting there. "That sounds like a fun game." she finally answers after another few seconds of thought.
Attention snaps to Yun then, blinking in confusion. The old man is crazy? Well, she isn't so sure. Can crazy people stealth around in broad daylight like that? But maybe he's right... she doesn't know very much about the world beyond the underground walls she lives behind, afterall. But then Yun keeps going about one line too far. The story of his life, perhaps.
A faint frown, her hands pressing against the edge of the table as she scoots her chair back a little with a scraping noise against the floor. "If I understand you right." She presses down with her hands and rises to her feet. "It sounds as if you think that you could beat me." Somewhere in her mind she recalls that she was supposed to be blending in, not drawing attention, learning how to get around without standing out like, well, like she's very likely about to.
"That is a mistake."
Her hands remain pressed against the tabletop. "I think you should reconsider this moment."
Crazy people /can/ most certainly stealth around in the daylight, sometimes at night. Gen has seen them; or not seen them. It does get terribly confusing, some days. If the old man has any particular answers to give on /his/ own nature, they're not at the forefront of the conversation now-- particularly once Yun yuns all over the place. That the pair are easily distracted by the prizes at hand, and the challenges so readily on offer, well; it's just a bonus, from where the elder chef is standing. Which, dutifully, becomes a notable step farther back. Several employees sweep in to clear the center of the floor of tables, a backdrop of fine and frequently repaired hardwood and ornate tapestries.
"I tried to warn him of that exact thing." Gen feels Kula's pain. "I have nothing for his judgement." Lee's herbs don't work, even when /proper/ dosages are administered to the boy at feeding time. "My solution is dumplings, if you at least try to teach him." It's like Yun isn't even there, for all the attention the Twin Dragon is paid when Gen intimates the sad situation to Kula, at best stage whispering and doing very little not to explain it right in front of his student.
"Hahahahahahahahaha!"
Yun is cracking up right now. Like, seriously, he's laughing his ass off. Whether he's laughing at Kula or Gen or the combination of both Gen and Kula, it doesn't even matter. But Yun has taken to laughing his way into the open space, where he kicks his board off to the side to make some room for what is about to come. "Man, first of all, your dumplings are dry as ever. Seriously. I don't even know how we sell as many as we do. So you can shut up." That's tossed at Gen, complete with a pointing figure of accusation. Of course, even Yun is not stupid enough to not make sure there's a look of teasing in his eyes. He's not trying to get whooped up on by Gen right here in the middle of this restaurant.
Yun then whirls his attention over to Kula. "And you? You're cute and all but if you're gonna' stand there and try to tell me that you think you're better than the better half of the Twin Dragons?" Yun pulls one leg back and balances himself into his ever ready to pounce kung-fu pose. He gives a shake of his head, swinging his braid back over his shoulder and motions for the girl to join him.
"Chick, please. Let's do the damn thang."
COMBATSYS: Yun has started a fight here.
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Yun 0/-------/------=|
Right this very moment, an entire cadre of handlers stuffed into a van a block away are staring at each other in open concern. Following the events through the earbud mic in Kula's ear, the small infrared camera worn over her other ear only to be completely concealed by her mane of hair, the heartrate and biometrics monitors nearly always worn beneath her clothing... they are able to see and hear every detail of this pending trainwreck play out but are helpless to do anything about it. How things went from 'Hey, Kula, let's see if you can buy yourself a dinner on your own.' to 'Let's battle the helpstaff' is anyone's guess. 'Wait, who is the old man?' one asks as another begins tapping keys rapidly to try and figure out what in the world is going on.
Inside, the young experiment steps away from the table, moves behind the chair, and carefully slides it back into place exactly where she had found it before turning toward Yun, arms resting against her sides. "Are you saying that you are only half a dragon?" she asks, eyes narrowed a little as if giving the proposition some real thought rather than just trying to rile him up.
Her handlers collectively palm their face.
Reaching down, Kula calmly tugs at her thick yellow gloves, making sure they are snug before zipping up her leather jacket. Keeping her head bowed, she inhales softly then pauses. A shimmer of white flashes over her from toe to head, leaving in its wake a small flury of ice crystals and a head full of skyblue hair to replace the more natural strawberry blonde color she had before.
When she looks up again, her eyes have taken on a crimson hue, her expression relaxed. Arms dropping to her sides, she stands across from Yun. The air has definitely lost a couple of degrees and those small crystals drifting around her seem to be carried by currents local only to the waifish girl facing him.
"I am ready." she states calmly.
"To do this thing."
What has Gen gotten him into /now/?
COMBATSYS: Kula has joined the fight here.
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Kula 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Yun
COMBATSYS: Kula takes no action.
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Kula 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Yun
Yun keeps his eyes on his opponent now that she has stood up and done some kind of weird semi-transformation thing. Normally, people would likely be freaking out or something. But Yun has been through some things in his day and now that he's watching the transformation happen right in front of his eyes, well, there's not much for him to be too worried about. Then again, Yun doesn't really worry about anything anyway. His Kung-Fu is what gets him out of all the trouble that his mouth gets him into.
"DragonS. With an S. Plural." Yun rolls his eyes and reaches up to adjust the cap on his head. He pulls it down tighter and more fitted onto his head. The way his legs are bouncing on the toes of his feet makes it look like he's more ready to get into a dance battle than something a bit more violent. He looks like he's itching to strike at any moment.
"I want you to remember that this is your fault." Yun says, narrowing his eyes and attempting to get a better bead on his opponent. While he's normally apt to just jump into the fight, it is a little different when there's time to actually plan out one's strategy. Which is something that Yun doesn't do a lot. He's doing it this time. "I tried to warn you." Yun brings his hands up, in preparation for what he's sure is to come and smirks.
COMBATSYS: Yun focuses on his next action.
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Kula 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Yun
"Oh." Kula replies at his clarification, frowning a little. Is he going to start throwing fire around like the appellation suggests? A voice chirps in her ear about how it would be nice if she didn't break too much stuff. Some of the staff enjoy eating at the Genhanten and would be upset if it were to get demolished or something. She doesn't verbally respond, but she can't help but wonder why they think she would do something like that? She's not here to kill anyone, she just wnats prizes!
His stance is observed and while she takes no active not of it, passive combat routines are already decompiling the details available. Mention of Kung Fu is vague enough to not be much of a lead, but the stance, the energy he moves with, are far better indicators of what she should anticipate. For her own part, she stands still, not having moved from where she prepared for the fight, arms at her sides. She claims to be ready, but aside from the sense of energy emanating from her, there is no kind of stance to suggest how she fights in the slightest. "I am not sure that this is my fault at all. The invitation was very clearly stated."
Crimson eyes flick around the room for a moment, gauging distances and what space she has to work with. "But please do say when you are finished. I am only interested in the prize." It is the last step of preparation taken before she finally acts, lifting her right hand to her chin, palm up. It almost looks like she's about to blow him a kiss - especially with the swift exhale that follows. The problem might be that shimmer of white along her raised forearm, a warning of something far less flirty in play, when instead of an inocuous gesture, a slurry of frozen chi, sharp crystals, and razor edged ice go flying at Yun.
Whether Yun escapes or not, the ice itself will saturate the floor where he was standing, leaving a lingering slick surface that it would be well advised to watch out for given his acrobatic style of combat!
COMBATSYS: Kula successfully hits Yun with Diamond Breath.
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Kula 0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0 Yun
Maybe there's too much showing off going on. Maybe that's why there's this great big sense of foolish pride that keeps him from really understanding what is about to go down. There's a huge collision of ice to Yun and when all is said and done, Yun is on the floor, covered in ice, while also sliding on what has taken over that part of the floor. It takes a moment before Yun rolls backwards and back up to his feet. He's shivering, trying not to show it, as he brushes some of the ice crystals off his clothes.
%"Uncool."
If there was a fourth wall, it would be crumbling from the way Yun looks off to the side and rolls his eyes. He also winks though, as if people that are not there get to understand where he's coming from.
With a shake of his head, Yun's attention is back on Kula. "If that's what you're comin' with, you might as well defrost now. Because I can take that all day." Yun reaches up to brush some ice chips off his shoulder. That only leads right into a sudden rush towards that patch of ice on the floor. Yun doesn't stop but instead hits the air in a flipping somersault over the frozen floor and into the air. As he comes down, he opens those arms and extends that foot, performing one of his textbook divekick's right towards Kula's skull!
COMBATSYS: Kula blocks Yun's Raigeki Shuu.
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Kula 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Yun
If Gen is fazed by Yun's steadfast opinion that the old chef is insane and possibly dangerous to himself and those around him, or /hilariously/ ignorant (depending on the moment, the Twin Dragon -is- a teenage boy, after all.), it doesn't show any more than amusement registers at how dramatically wrong his protege continues to be about Kula. This stoicism, despite Yun's /amazing/ wit. Gen floats on agile feet along the battle's perimeter as it erupts, his carefully coaxed, relaxed detachment a mask for the quiet regard he gives each technique-- both for the energy the young assassin unleashes, and the irrepressible Mr. Lee's efforts in rising to the occasion. If there weren't a great fighter in there somewhere, the aged master wouldn't waste his damn time.
Bushy brows half-conceal narrowed eyes as the diminutive girl-- as short as the frail, crippled old chef-- stands up to the strike with impressive aplomb, his quiet breath of consideration absorbed all but entirely by the formidable force of that clash. All eyes in the house are on Yun, and his newest crush. For one reason or another, they seem to come here trying to smash the kung-fu kid an awful lot. It can't be Gen's enticing offers of food prizes-- like Yun says, his dumplings are downright bad; not the best in the city, or anything.
Lowering her hand to her side, Kula watches the aftermath of her attack without moving from her spot. For all of Yun's active movement, his opponent seems content to stay put where she started. A few of the flakes drifting have begun to collect on the floor at her feet. "I can make it colder." she replies impassively regarding his first response to getting caked in ice.
If he is feeling too hot, she knows just the cure. "Defrost? I can't... do that until I have won the prize." she replies. Thus far, most of Yun's personality seems to fly right over her head. Coming from a world devoid of much in the way of humor of any sort leaves her struggling to follow his taunting nature. He starts to move again while she stays put. "Based on your condition, I believe you cannot... take it all day."
Her left arm lifts as he dives, gloved hand clenching with a creak, knees bending a little to brace slightly. When his foot impacts, there is a soft grunt, a hint of a wince, but she otherwise doesn't budge from her spot. The issue with dive kicks is that you have to come down from them at some point, right? It is that expectation that she seeks to exploit when the Ice Shaper finally moves. When she darts, she's fast, slipping forward, a blur of violet and light blue, her right arm pulled tightly back, bent at the elbow.
If she catches him at just the right time, her fist will slam forward, fingers curled, aiming to drive her hand into Yun's ribcage. The other problem is the way her hand is encased in flash-frozen ice which she seems intent on smashing into him as well. If this keeps up, he's going to end up a snowman!
"You can ask to stop," she notes softly, attempting to disengage to go back on the defensive as quickly as she went on the attack.
"At any time."
COMBATSYS: Yun blocks Kula's Medium Punch.
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Kula 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Yun
Yun doesn't believe what he's hearing. All of his witty banter seems to just be flying over this chick's head. Which is not good for his morale. He actually frowns when she comes back with some literal words. "Ugh. This just got so much more boring." Yun's rolling of his eyes is likely the reason why he's waited too long to react to the fact that she's coming at him with some flash frozen fist of doom. He spots it a hair too late and is forced to do the only thing he can think of and that's meet the icy hand with his own palm. It stops most of the punching, but his hand is icy as all non-hell.
Yun hops backwards, putting some space there, as he shakes his hand and tries to get the coldness out of the fingers and what not. He bites his lip and wipes his hand on his pants as he hops backwards into a fighting stance. Again. "Can't Stop, Won't Stop, Rocafella Records..."
Yun's beloved taste in music is used as a verbal distraction, before he rushes for her. He stops short and feints a jab, spinning on his heels and aiming for a quick elbow towards her chest. Hopefully, that'll be enough to let him grab her by the arm and flip her over his back and down to the floor where she will probably leave some more icy patches but so what. As long as this looks cool.
COMBATSYS: Kula interrupts Combo Grapple from Yun with Crow Bite.
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Kula 0/-------/---====|=======\===----\1 Yun
"Boring?" Kula asks back, inquisitive again. "The talking then, that is important for you, isn't it." The fierce battle playing out certainly seems unfair for the teen fighter. Gen may be guiding him in the path of Kung Fu, but to put him up against the lethal weapon that is Kula Diamond like this... Well, the Champion's Road has always been a grueling gauntlet, even for the best in the world. Maybe Yun is just getting a real head start on the process courtesy of Gen's cruel machinations?
"Taunting, right?" she bows her head slightly in thought. She wasn't really taught this side of fighting. She only has a split second to wrack her brain for ideas though before the Kung Fu apprentice is on her once again. Face snapping up, eyes on him, her right hand is drawn back, at a lower angle this time, her left shoulder pivoted toward him as he gets within striking range. At first it seems like she intends to just block the elbow with her upper arm. It's only in the next instant that it becomes clear she has a more insidious response in mind, her right hand swinging forward from behind in an uppercutting trajectory the same instant he opens his guard to reach out for her.
The connection is cringeworthy as the girl's gloved fist crashes into his torso again, gliding up into his chin next, her legs unspringing her into an upward arc through the air. A fluid swath of chi trails from her fingers, much of it smashing into the youth's form as well before also freezing solid as her earlier attacks had done.
The Ice Shaper lands some meters away, sliding to a stop and spinning around to face Yun. Her right arm lifts to rub her left shoulder thoughtfully. She felt that elbow strike at least, even through her leather armor jacket. "You are faster than I expected. But all that talking and movement... I think you just need to chill out." she offers, the faint flicker of a smile at the corner of her mouth hinting at her weak attempt at humor.
"But now you need to admit defeat." Nothing has been too destroyed yet. Except maybe Yun's pride. Gen's tutoring is nothing if not ruthless.
The sound of ice and wood and flesh and bone all colliding is pretty much the status of Yun Lee. By the time anyone can find him, he's crawling out of a pile of table and noodles, because that is where he was just knocked to. The amount of power that came from Kula's latest display of total domination was enough to put Yun down for a little bit. He doesn't even realize he's getting back to his feet until he notices that he's wobbling on them. He stumbles a bit, pushing to get away from whatever pile of rubble that he's created.
To look at Yun now would be to look at a young man that's just taken on an entire gang. His clothes are tattered and ripped. Where that's not the case, they are frozen solid and brittle. There's blood leaking from the corners of his mouth and already one of his eyes is starting to swell up. He limps. He favors one side over the other. And he's barely capable of seeing anything that's not doubles. He's truly seen a few better days. And to top it all off, the worst of it? His hat has been knocked sideways.
"Heh." Yun actually smiles a little bit when he hears what probably is the best joke this girl can come up with. "Now that's how you fight a Twin Dragon." He's probably referring to both the witty banter and the fact that he just got his entire block rocked something fierce.
Yun reaches up to straighten out his cap and then centers himself for a moment. He spits some of the blood out and returns to his regularly scheduled fighting stance. "But there's one thing you gotta' know about me, babygirl..." Yun looks as though he has an entirely new light in his eyes. A new fire. Born again Kung-Fu student, if you will. "I don't quit. I never quit." Those words might as well be meant for Gen because this is all his fault in the first place. Either way, Yun is on the move. Moving faster than he should be for a guy that just got knocked to kingdom come and back. He gets in close to aim an arm lash up towards Kula's face. He immediately attempts to follow up with a quick elbow strike. If he's quick enough, he'll even be able to turn backwards, but in towards Kula and aim a stylish shoulder charge into her body to send her into the air. This may or may not work, but he even raises a fist to allow Kula a painful landing, should the Fight Gods be forever in his favor!
COMBATSYS: Yun successfully hits Kula with You Hou.
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Kula 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Yun
COMBATSYS: Gen has joined the fight here in the center.
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Kula 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Yun
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Gen 0|-------|-------
Yun is given the time to extricate himself from the crash landing and get back to his feet. If she were executing her full combat routines, she might have already been there in his face by the time he's up, swinging out for a follow up, leaving no room to recover in the slightest. But for right now, he is afforded that chance, and the opportunity to reply to one of the most plain, obvious puns in the history if fighting banter.
His smile prompts one in return, however, the reluctant expression from a moment before warming slightly. Maybe she is getting the hang of the second layer of proper Twin Dragon Combat Engagement protocols afterall! "I'm glad." she replies, sounding completely sincere about it. "I do want you to have an ice day, afterall."
Her van-hidden handlers all groan in unisen. She isn't going to keep doing that back at the lab, is she?? /Thanks Yun/!
As he fixes his hat back too it's Most Cool orientation, she lifts her left hand slightly in front of her, still standing up straight, waiting as cool currents swirl about her, lightly playing with her hair and leaving that persistent trail of small flakes on the floor. When he tells her there's more to know about Yun Lee and his determination, she pauses. "Never?" she asks, sounding openly impressed. "Are you sure?"
He's sure enough to be blitzing toward her, at least, moving with incredible speed into the frosty fighter's defense. Crimson eyes narrow a little and she lifts her left hand a little further, palm forward, fingers splayed. When he first swings his arm it is into a shimmering mirror of ice that he strikes. It holds, blunting the blow completely, sparing her face from a direct strike even as its surface becomes decorated with spiderwebbing cracks.
It's the elbow that gets through though, finishing the job his first strike started, shattering the shimmering pane of ice into fine powder and connecting with her stomach hard enough to stagger the girl. She's recovering quickly though, arms lifting to turtle behind for defense when his shoulder comes crashing in with way more force than she was expecting. Now that he's broken through her defenses and landed a clean hit, he might be surprised how decidedly fragile she seems, the featherweight knocked airborn, limbs flailing to try and regain control, twisting around with the intent to attack on her way down, only to crash into the Kung Fu artist's fist.
Folded over his hand, Kula rolls to the floor with a pained gasp and maladroit landing. Eyes blink as she tries to register what just happened, combat algorithms attempting to compensate for the unexpected burst of speed and potential observed in the young martial artist. Rolling onto her side, gloved hands press against the floor before she launches herself deliberately back to standing. Blood trickls down from her mouth but a lift of her left hand and wipe of her finger leaves the trail frozen on her chin.
Several formulas process in rapid succession, the damage she suffered resulting in her mind working overtime to compensate. While she had been executing non-lethal attacks, understanding, on some level, the spirit of the contest, it's impossible for her conscious mind to keep at bay the more devastating conclusions her long months of NESTS combat programming have installed in her.
Watching everything play out, her handlers notice the spike in energy, the shift in pulse, the cooling off of temperment as a more clinical, ruthlessly efficient side takes the forefront. 'Uh oh.'
In the Ganhanten, Kula has drawn her right hand back, lips pressed into a thin line. Whatever demeanor she had before now, something else has pushed to the forefront. Yun will have an instant to realize the severe drop in temperature as a violent surge of pristine white chi surges down the girl's right arm. The step forward to close the gap happens in an instant, right hand surging into position with piston-like force. Only, she's a bit too far to reach him with her fist. Which means the real threat is likely the flare of liquid-cooled energy surging along her arm, compressing into a jagged guantlet of unforgiving ice that, in and of itself, looks like it's going to hurt.
But it's the three lances of varying length that errupt out of the ice sphere that reveal the truly deadly nature of the assassin's technique. Each razor-tipped spear semes intent on running Yun through in an instant!
COMBATSYS: Kula successfully hits Yun with Critical Ice.
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Kula 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Yun
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Gen 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Gen just-defends Kula's Critical Ice!
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Kula 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Yun
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Gen 0|-------|-------
It's more than a little bit impressive, even to Gen, how much ferocity Kula brings casually to the fore; and, maybe a little, just how relentlessly Yun meets her despite it. The girl is honed to a killing edge, wielding energy at least matching what he had hoped for from the girl, and Yun... well, Yun may be little farther along on his path to weighing his adversaries, but the stubborn fighter from Hong Kong is defiant to the end. Surprisingly capable, backed against a wall, at that. Of course, it's of arguable merit to make Kula angry, in this instance. She's already a mystery wrapped inside an enigma-- skilled as she is, yet sheltered enough to be entirely unfamiliar with Yun's particular breed of quip and come-on. Controlled as she is, yet so vulnerable to sudden escalation...
The spike in power is at least as tangible to the old assassin as it is to the instruments monitoring Kula, and he moves in the span of a single inhalation to insert himself between his student and this new challenger as one tightly clenched, gnarled root of a fist collides sidelong with the first spear of ice. There should be blood, a surplus of wrenching sound and impact, but only a scattering of ice is sent spraying free to sparkle its way into nothingness-- the rest seems to melt in the same flash that formed it, barreling into a sweep of that limb that trails blackness, absence. It's difficult to sense the power that's applied, especially over the metaphysical volume of Kula's own deadly tantrum-- a cool, distant whisper, as inexorable as it is intangible, accompanies the perfectly timed deflection.
The old man seems to have had little doubt of the outcome, committing himself fully in the path of the cold snap, flexing that arm out before him vertically as each furious lance rushes in; and seemingly, never so much as touches the elder fighter. His sleeve is blown back, hair and cloth rustle, the points of impact of Kula's potentially lethal stroke ripples of blackness and distorted air-- as if that last hair's breadth is abruptly simply too much space to travel to their defiant target. The impact is actually studied by Gen, his brow furrowed as he calmly observes the dissolution of the NESTS project's wintry might, a sharp twist of his hand sending condensation that lingers in the air spattering outwards with the sheer volume of air moved by the harsh, powerful motion.
"Hmph." Gen grunts out, informatively. "The boy is soundly beaten, without the good sense to know it." The important part: winning the contest, and in this case... /dramatically/. There's something decidedly different about this challenger; it's likely even Yun is getting that sense. When the elder assassin completes his study, the eyes that readily follow the onslaught's course back to Kula are no longer black, but a pure, fogged-over white. The tales that her chi spoke to him are tracked back to its wielder, and for that moment is as if the old master simply looks through-- or perhaps within-- the deadly little assassin. The master chef does not rely on words alone to quell Kula, an effort perhaps simply born of his own curiousity rather than mothered by necessity.
The striking palm comes with one single, sudden step forward, launching Gen's stance wide and carrying ample strength behind its surprisingly simple and efficient motion-- and it seems, at first, like it's hopelessly short, the breadth of several fingers from striking Kula even if she does nothing to evade. She would /feel/ the sudden wrenching twist of that hand, however, as fingertips dig and gouge through something ethereal and unseen, and his palm opens and completes that thrust towards her midsection as a rush of air surges outwards, the forward motion carrying enough force to unbalance all but the mightiest of targets. All the dislocating impact it's liable to have on Gen is to complete a second step to match the first, his feet planted to the floor of his restaurant-- downright /too/ planted, by the most alert reckonings. The old man is stable, anchored, steady and sturdy to extents that vastly defy his age and stature, facing Kula curiously, sidelong, calmly holding vigil between her and Yun. "Who taught you such techniques?"
COMBATSYS: Kula blocks Gen's Improvised Throw.
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Kula 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Yun
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Gen 0|-------|-------
There is no alert to his movement as the NESTS operative lashes out with an attack noticeably more to the point than what she had been using thus far. Not that she was pulling punches in the slightest against the Kung Fu apprentice, but until this instant, there had been no sign of blades, spikes, or needles of frozen water to contend with. That Yun kept escalating the challenge only pushed her to try harder to exceed it, but there came inevitably a point where she crossed into techniques that have no illusion of being part of a friendly spar over a free meal and that is when the old assassin acted.
His instant touch shatters the first ice spike just before it would have reached its target, targeting it with force and precision necessary to not simply deflect the conjured weapon but to annihilate it all together as it explodes into a cloud of fine frigid powder before vaporizing into the air of the restaurant. Kula is still swinging, however, and there's more to deal with than just a solitary spear of ice and without reservation, Gen inserts himself into the path the remaining lances and the critically dangerous technique disintigrates into vapor, frozen dust, and moisture.
In an instant, young Diamond's arm snaps back, a trail off pure water spilling from her gloved hand to splash against the floor, the expression on her face immediately registering of surprise and confusion. She's never had her control over the element fall apart quite like that before. Not since she first began to shape ice has this happened. Crimson eyes snap from her hands to the elderly mystery who is now in front of her, having moved faster than even her subconscious combat routines could follow. Her intensity of resolve lingers but is now also sharing space with no small amount of alarm largely triggered by thoroughly confused programming moreso than any conscious awareness of what just happened.
She is listening, however. He mentions Yun - the boy - and Kula's eyes flick past him as much as possible. She would disagree, on a certain level. He still had the capacity to fight. No one is beaten until they are on the ground unable to move. Or are dead. Her arm twitches, fingers clenching and unclenching as the last of the disrupted energy melts into shimmering white then fades all together. It's only then that she looks up into the face of Gen and her eyes widen a bit more, recoiling, arms raised in a hasty defense, booted foot sliding backward over the floor. What- what happened to his eyes? The amount of information he is able to glean from that brief moment of contact is telling.
There would not be too many who could spot that Kusanagi birthright at a glance. But as to why it is found in that antithesis to fire she wields... and why someone who is most definitely not part of that ancient family clan is able to shape it so is not so easily discerned simply by reading her.
There is another curiosity though - possibly another clue. It wouldn't make sense at first glance, at least, but when viewed through the lens of a master of Gen's caliber, it would become unmistakably clear. The girl standing in front of him is no older than a year or two at best. For all her looking like a waifish but growing mid-teen, her aura speaks to a lifetime far more limited in experience by comparison.
In the van across the way, a group of analysists and scientists are frantically trying to figure out what just happened inside the Genhanten.
Her reaction to his evaluation remains one of confusion and uncertainty. But when he attacks, she acts as if she wasn't even the slightest bit distracted, as if instinct alone drives her to bring both of her arms up into the path of the Master Assassin's palm. The crushing force that his simple gesture inflicts is enough to send the girl flying back over the floor, an invisible yet palpable shockwave of power radiating out from around her small frame. It takes her a moment to pull her arms back in after having them knocked out at her sides but when she does turtle behind them, hands up, gloved fists closed, a tatered hole can be seen in right sleeve of her leather armored jacket where his palm had connected.
Her body is reacting to the threat on overdrive, active choices suppressed by routines designed to take over in the case of panic. Her breaths are coming as fast, rapid pants, each exhale releasing an exhaust of chilled vapor from her mouth. Her arms stay raised even as the bruise begins to form visibly beneath the torn jacket. Her instincts know full well if Gen decides to attack, she can do nothing but hope to scratch him on her way out of this life. But her conscious mind still retains enough control to hear his question and even voice a response, each word punctuated by a need to breath.
"Home. Taught."
Gen is correct. Yun does not know when to quit. Which is why he doesn't quit. While he's barely capable of standing, his body has been wrecked something special and then some, he's able to see that Gen has done something that he never thought would happen. He has actually stood up for him?! Yun blinks to try and make sure that he's seeing what he's seeing. He's really not sure if this is even happening right now. He could be knocked out and on the floor and this could all be some kind of weird dream. Maybe that's why he hasn't seen Yang in forever. Maybe this entire lifelike experience has been one long dream.
Yeah, no. The pain coursing through his body is definitely real. The blood dripping from his face is definitely real. And the fact that he can't even walk straight, when he takes a step to try and stay in this fight? That's definitely real. So is the way he collides with the floor. There's a groan that comes from him as he works on attempting to push himself back up. It takes a little bit of doing but he does manage to pull himself up with the assistance of a table nearby. He has to lean or else he's going to hit the floor again.
"Move." Yun is talking to about six Gens right now. "I got this. I don't need help." Yun's hat is completely twisted to the side of his head. He doesn't even know where Kula is at this point. He's become focused on his teacher. "Especially yours." Yeah, maybe he shouldn't be snarking at the only person that's stopping him looking like the biggest loudmouth that can't back it up in the history of street fighting combatants.
Yun grabs at a fortune cookie on the table and attempts to throw it, but it just falls out of his grip.
COMBATSYS: Yun has left the fight here.
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Kula 0/-------/-======|
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Gen 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Kula has left the fight here.
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Gen 0|-------|-------
Log created on 23:24:56 11/24/2014 by Gen, and last modified on 12:47:09 12/11/2014.