Match of the Millennium

Description: Two followers of the path of the sword work together to dismantle a car. That, however, is only the beginning. When the wreckage is done neither feels satisfied. There can of course only be one outcome. Marvel at the clash of East meets West that commentators have called "Absolutely shocking" "Needlessly personal" and "Unscheduled and unsanctioned combat."

[ICHIKA]
To say that Ichika was not pleased with her debut in the world of fighting would be... an understatement. She has spent long hours wondering if she should keep going at all; whether she was doomed to continue to bring shame on her school... and her family, for that matter. Her father's indiscretions had caused so much embarrassment. She had, in fact, been extremely clear that he wasn't to accompany her this time. There were fewer opportunities for a vehicle to shame him than a stripper, true, but she had no doubt that he would find a way to manage it.

Come here she has, though, because whilst she might have her reservations about Buford (and she very much does)... she *doesn't* want this to be the end of her career. To walk away now would be to leave the world knowing that Kasumoto Ichika is a failure; a joke. She will not allow such a thing.

The Honda N-Box that has been set carefully for them to obliterate is a plain white model, and has clearly seen better days. The young woman is in the process of circling it now. Eyeing the car as though she might be able to determine it's weak points and where best to strike to achieve the swift victory that will be needed to maximise the points available. Truth be told, this is far from her area of expertise. She has only a few months of study under her belt, and none of the fighting research she had done had discussed how to destroy inanimate objects, only people. The palms of her hands feel clammy. What she is being asked to do here... it's difficult. And she will be judged on it.

"The purpose of today's training is to defeat yesterday's misunderstanding."

She murmurs the saying to herself. It is, of course, a quote from Miyamoto Musashi. She didn't often like to put herself in such lofty company... but she feels the truth of that statement deep in her heart, in this moment.

The car merely regards her with solemn indifference.

[BUFORD]
Truly, she is not the only one with the tortured soul. A thick and colorful fog burbles out from the edge of the parking lot, puffing and churning as the rainbow mist approaches. Deep within, a large figure chuckles heartily. "Mmm mmm mmm... that is a quote from Miyamoto Musashi, of course." Comes the voice, as the mist clears away. The tall, somewhat rectangular figure was smirking, his jowls hanging from his neck. At his lips looked almost like the hilt of a katana blade, except much wider, and also it seemed to have a kind of nozzle that he was sipping on. Pulling it from his thick, rubbery lips, he exhales a cottony cloud around him. There is a deep scent of tutti fruity within it. He peers at Ichika from behind his goggle glasses, nodding in approval.

"I have heard quite a bit about you, Kasumoto-chan, from your interview." He adds with an air that implies that for Buford to recognize you must be the highest of honors. "I am Buford of the Clan Maclanky, a wandering swordsman of sorts. Truly it is an honor to finally make your acquaintance, M'lady." The swordsman sweeps his coat back, a bit, and he falls to one knee, bowing deeply, he rises up after a moment, taking another deep draw off his hilt. "It seems fortunate that we are not to face each other in a duel of blades, but as partners to assist each other in the disposal of this fine vehicle." Bringing the hilt from his lips, he strides up to the car, inspecting it with gravitas. "A Honda N-Box, hmm. I've always dreamed of owning my own car. It certainly pains me to be destroying such a vessel of such luxury, but." He coos softly, nodding his head as he brings his hilt back to the sheath of his blade. "As you said, the purpose of today's training is to defeat yesterday's misunderstanding. Such impressive wisdom from one so young! Are you ready, Miss Kasumoto-chan, to join me in this demonstration of Japanese Swordsmanship?"

[ICHIKA]
"Maclanky-san." Ichika's voice is carefully controlled, nice and polite, as she turns to view the far larger man. She does her best to keep her expression neutral, "I see that you live up to your reputation as well."

The vaporous cloud is... unpleasant. She takes a few careful steps backwards, so that each is to either side of their opponent, as though the vehicle really were there to confound them and needs to be treated with the utmost of respect as one third of the competitors present. She lets her hand drop to her side, the sweaty palm wrapping around the hilt of her blade. No matter what, she needed to make sure that she acquitted herself well here.

Try as she might to set such considerations out of her mind, the idea of being the *lesser* partner in this duo was utterly abhorrent to her. Pride may be an ugly thing, but she is no Samurai and certainly no Musashi. She considers herself quite a lot. And there is so much in this partnership to consider.

"Indeed. We know our goal." She says, with a slight nod. "It is said that the path of the warrior is a journey of self-expression before it is any other thing. Let us show the world, and each other, what we each know it means to wield the sword."

COMBATSYS: Ichika has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Ichika           0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Buford has wandered into the fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Ichika           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0           Buford

COMBATSYS: Honda N-Box has joined the fight here on the top side.

                 [ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Honda N-Box      0|-------|-------
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Ichika           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0           Buford

[BUFORD]
There is a clicking sound as Buford twists his hilt in. "I am moved by your true words of traditional oriental wisdom, my western knowledge paling in the magnificence of your words. Allow me to take the first strike. To test it's defenses, as it were." He draws the blade out slowly, the hilt now clicked into place. "This is Suchimusodo, the Vapor Blade. The blade is tempered and welded with pure electricity, it forged with austenitic chrome steel in my home country! It pales compared to your home country's craftsmenship certainly." Buford levels the blade before him with both hands, looking towards the car past it. Standing fast, he draws in a deep breath, and then exhales. He stops for a moment and repeats the process, this time putting the hilt into his mouth, and then exhaling out a cloud of steam. And then, with that rush of tutti fruity, he attacks.

Spinning himself around slowly as he charges at the car, the mist swirls around him in rainbow contrails. Letting out a fierce and terrible kiai, he begins hacking the blade at the roof of the car, giving a terrible trio of overhead strikes as he chops down at the car. "Aim for critical points of weakness, Kasumoto-chan!" He announces, jowls jiggling with wrath as he beats upon the car. "Like a surgeon! Cutting for the very first time!"

[ICHIKA]
Ichika's expression darkens as Buford starts talking about 'oriental wisdom' and 'her homeland'. It sets her teeth on edge. The fact that the older fighter seems to be sincere in his belief doesn't make it any more palatable to her. As he hammers away at the roof of the vehicle, though, she tries to concentrate on the task at hand. That is, after all, the important thing here. If she can get through the battle without breathing too much second hand vape fluid that would be a pleasant bonus, but that seems like it may be out of her reach.

She takes a deep breath from outside the limits of the cloud whilst she still can, and then she leaps into the air, vaulting across the distance to make her own initial attack on the car.

Perhaps surprisingly it isn't using her sword; steel may sharpen steel but she's reluctant to test it against the full metal panels right away. Instead, she aims to drive her heel down as hard as she can into the hood of the boxy vehicle. With all her momentum behind it, hopefully she can expose the engine itself.

In a way, she's following Buford's advice.

But that's just coincidence.

COMBATSYS: Honda N-Box blocks Ichika's Strong Kick.

                 [  |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Honda N-Box      0|-------|------=
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Ichika           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0           Buford

COMBATSYS: Honda N-Box blocks Buford's Fierce Strike.

                 [    |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Honda N-Box      0|-------|-----==
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Ichika           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0           Buford

COMBATSYS: Honda N-Box takes no action.

                 [    |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Honda N-Box      0|-------|-----==
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Ichika           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0           Buford

[BUFORD]
Progress against the car was slow. At best, it seems that the duo was barely making it above the cost of the deductible. The roof of the car was only getting cuts past the paint, and the front of the car at least gets reasonably sizable ding in it, as well as pops up a little bit. It doesn't pop up all the way because those Honda have that little latch underneath the hood that keeps it from popping up like when you are driving, that are always a pain to reach in and hit if you have very thick hands. Buford, chopping at the roof, catches his breath, wheezing as he looks at his work, or lack there of. "Impossible... is my blade not even strong enough to..." HIs brow furrowed, he glances away from the car towards the hard working young lady doing exactly what she is told. Looking towards his partner's work against the hood, he gives a smirk. "Of course! Our blades are not sufficient to cut the hide of this steel- well plastic and metal beast." He steps backwards, sheathing his blade with flourish, as he circles around to the front. "We must expose this metallic construct's soft underbelly within, before we can properly dismantle it. And in order to get within... They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, m'lady. Thus, Look out, Kasumoto-chan! I will aim for the very eyes of this Honda!" Buford begins to pick up speed, running faster and faster towards the car. At the last second, he turns around, leaping in the air with the grace and elegance of a wild buffalo of the steppes of Alberta. Flying bottom first, he flings himself over the hood of the car, to smash squarely into the front window of the vehicle.

[ICHIKA]
Ichika's brow furrows deeply as Buford continues to talk. And talk. And talk. It's terribly distracting. The initial blow is not quite as successful as she would have liked; but then, what had she expected? She's kicking *a car*. The fact that her leg doesn't hurt in the aftermath of it is, in fact, somewhat surprising. Ugh. Now she's in the cloud and not only is her sense of hearing being assaulted but her sense of smell as well. Dismantling a vehicle using only violence was the kind of challenge she would have found intimidating under the best circumstances; this feels like she's doing it with the added handicap of her focus being continually broken as well.

"I can see that you... are going to be quite, formidable, when we cross blades, Maclanky-san."

The bulk of the man goes crashing in for the windshield, and as he sails overhead Ichika unsheathes her blade. Rather than cutting, though, she aims to drive the hilt of it upwards as she draws, to smash the weapon hard into the upper portion of the hood and - hopefully - tear that little latch free from this angle, smashing up rather than down.

COMBATSYS: Honda N-Box blocks Ichika's Crushing Strike.

                 [      |||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Honda N-Box      0|-------|----===
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Ichika           0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0           Buford

COMBATSYS: Buford successfully hits Honda N-Box with Improvised Slam.

                 [          |||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Honda N-Box      0|-------|-======
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Ichika           0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0           Buford

COMBATSYS: Honda N-Box takes no action.

                 [          |||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Honda N-Box      0|-------|-======
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Ichika           0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0           Buford

[BUFORD]
Buford cracks through the front window of the car, smashing through. Doubled over, he looks back, stuck in place ass first into the front window. Giving a cherub-like smile towards Ichika, he tips his hat at her just as she delivers the smashing hilt strike at just the right spot on the hood. "Excelsior! Ever rising! My toosh has penetrated the vehicle, Kasumoto-chan! We-

Buford is interrupted as the hood pops up forcefully at Ichika's impact, the impact having just enough spring action to catapult the husky ronin the rest of the way through the window. Pushing his hand hard upon his hat, he lands wedged in between the two seats, he round frame squeezed in there. "Ah! Don't worry about me! The engine! You work the front M'lady, I work, um, here!" Buford struggles in the front seat as he fumbles for his sword. Pulling at the hilt, he finally whips it up... and begins to puff upon the hilt. Puffing and puffing, the interior of the vehicle begins to fill with a rainbow fog, growing thicker and thicker until... there is a flash of steel. Buford begins slashing around the seats, ripping at the front panels in a wild blur. Finally able to get himself turned around, he rotates facing down to the back seat, and his blur of slashes direct toward the the floor of the vehicle. The front hood was now fully open and exposed, ready for Ichika to get to work, while the angry beast of a Buford was busy striking with grace and finesse, trapped inside the cloud-filled car.

COMBATSYS: Buford blitzes into action and acts again!

                 [          |||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Honda N-Box      0|-------|-======
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////////  ]
Ichika           0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0           Buford

[ICHIKA]
With Buford confined to the interior of the Honda, Ichika is freed from the cloying cloud. Not totally - the shattered windshield still gives it plenty of room to spill out - but it is lessened somewhat, and as the entire vehicle rocks madly from side to side with the thrashing giant confined within it, Ichika closes her eyes and takes the reprieve where she can find it. The blade is drawn, now, and she is indeed free to make the strike that she had envisioned. But is that really going to be enough...?

"Maclanky-san." She says, her voice finally loud enough to carry rather than maintaining the quiet, polite tone she had done through the rest of the conversation. "When you have extricated yourself from inside the vehicle... you and I will need to work together to deliver a proper finishing blow. Are you willing to follow my lead in this?"

It's perhaps a little arrogant of a statement. Undoubtedly, Buford has delivered the majority of the damage to the vehicle thus far - but as Ichika works to drive the tip of her katana into the engine block of the Honda, she knows what it is she would like to demonstrate to the people at home - the question is whether she and Buford will be able to achieve such lofty heights, or whether they won't, in fact, be able to synchronise their swords with the harmony needed...

... she's somewhat unsure that it is even possible herself...

COMBATSYS: Ichika successfully hits Honda N-Box with Fierce Strike.

                 [              |||||||||||||||| ]
                 Honda N-Box      1|------=|=======
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Ichika           0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0           Buford

COMBATSYS: Buford successfully hits Honda N-Box with Bushido Of The Blade.

                 [                  |||||||||||| ]
                 Honda N-Box      1|---====|=======
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Ichika           0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0           Buford

COMBATSYS: Buford successfully hits Honda N-Box with Power Strike.

                 [                       ||||||| ]
                 Honda N-Box      1|=======|=======
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Ichika           0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0           Buford

COMBATSYS: Honda N-Box takes no action.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Ichika           0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0           Buford

COMBATSYS: Honda N-Box can no longer fight.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Ichika           0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0           Buford


[BUFORD]
Buford rips and tears within, as Ichika drives the blade into the engine block. Stabbing it in the heart of the machine, it suddenly springs a leak of what looks like rather explosive fluid. They didn't- they didn't fill this thing with gas did they. It begins to rock back and forth wildly as Buford somehow manages to position himself back into an upright sitting position, still clutching his blade with both hands. The floor was fully ripped open and exposed, the axle and structure bending dangerously, the front panel was completely wrecked. The fluids of the engine begin to leak in. His eyes were wide, as he looks out from the mist within the car. Did this fair maiden of the way of the blade... invite him for a... invite him for a... special dual tech? A unique and iconic team up combination where each would work in elegant union, uniting in only the way two blademasters could. The Honda groans in anticipation, as suddenly it turns on. Averting his eyes, his round apple checks blush softly, as he brings the fedora over his goggled eyes. "M'lady... if you truly would have me... I would be honored if-"

The car suddenly collapses all around him, the weight and jostling of the car being the coup de grace. Wheels turn outwards, the bottom smashes on the ground. For a brief moment, it is just collapsed over the man. And then, the engine starts to spit and sputter, as the front bursts into flames. the intense flames of a gas fire begin to flicker up and towards the front seat, before becoming utterly smothered by the cottony cloud of vapor. The door of the honda falls off, and Buford rolls out from the wreckage, moaning as he does so. "It seemed I was a bit premature on things..." He mutters, as he lays on the asphalt for a second.

"Um, M'lady, are we- are we still good on the team up attack?" He says as sits up, sword in his lap. "I mean, I mean the car is destroyed but we could- we could just kind of roleplay like the car is intact! I really would be honored if we did a team up! Why we could do it where we both ready our blades in the sheath, and then you say 'Lets finish this oniichan' and I could say, well, I could say a kind of deep and imposing chuckle, and then we both synchronize our swords, and we would charge at the car and give a single finishing swipe in a X shape! And then we would hold the pose and- and-" Buford looks at the remains of the car, before turning back to Ichika. He gives a tiny, grit-teeth smile that pokes over his lips, as he pats his fingertips together in little taps.

[ICHIKA]
Ichika wrenches her sword free of the engine block and takes a single, measured step backward. As the vehicle collapses in on itself in fire and shame, she lets Buford's words wash over her. Everything he says is awful. But she does, at least, understand the sentiment. This was supposed to be a demonstration of their prowess, and what had they proven? Not much. Their attacks weren't particularly impressive on a technical level. They hadn't worked as a team. She's, surprised, that they had managed to reduce the car to so much scrap so quickly, but was that truly down to their own skill or was it that... the workmanship wasn't particularly good to begin with?

"No. I will not engage in a 'role play' with you, Maclanky-san." Ichika says, seriously, but nor does she resheathe her blade. Instead, she holds it to the side, letting the grease and oily residue spill from it and onto the car park floor.

"But I understand your feelings. You are not satisfied with this display either. So rather than engage in a silly game I will instead offer you another proposal."

And there's some determination in the young woman's eyes as hers seek out his; trying to stare him down through the multiple layers of smoke and vape now threatening to clog the air in the car park.

"Maclanky-san. To display what we can really do to those watching... I challenge you, here and now, to cross blades with me for real."

[BUFORD]
No. She said no. Buford lowers his fedora over his eyes as the weight of the rejection rips through him like a hot and billowy cloud of vapor. Tears building from behind the goggles. It was not the first time a fair maiden had said no to him, of course. But his kokoro always ached from the pain of rejection every time, a fresh wound upon his organ. The agony rips through him, the tragedy fate of a samurai. Always alone, forever alone. Buford-San brings the sword to his mouth, clenching his teeth upon the blade when- when she challenges him to a duel instead.

Immediately, he stands up, blade still clenched between his teeth. And then, he comes down to one knee. "M'mammtgh" he mutters with a mouthful of blade. Immediately he stands up, and then, remove the blade clenched between his teeth. Body drenched with sweat, still battered from his battle with the car, he cannot refuse. He returns back down to his knee, bowing his head. "M'lady, I would be honored to clash blades with you. But I must warn you" He quickly brings his sword up with him as he rises up to a stand. "As I have seen your talents in joining me in slaying this Vehicle from Nippon, I will not hold back my strength." He warns her, as he grips the hilt of his sword with both hands. "But in turn, come at me, Kasumoto-chan! Do not be afraid to go all out! My body is strong and healthy, and can handle the strongest a young woman like you has to offer!" He gives Ichika a wink, and then, bows his head. The broken remains of the Honda would be their backdrop. It was time for the real test to begin.

COMBATSYS: Buford tips his fedora with a winning grin.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Ichika           0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0           Buford

[ICHIKA]
It's a strange thing for Ichika to have announced such a thing, but she is utterly certain that she means it. As much as they had succeeded at the aim of the contest, neither could she be satisfied with the display she had made here. She needed to do more. To demonstrate her worth.

And the way Buford had continued to talk to her, the 'oriental' the 'oniichan' the 'a young woman like you'. She may have more respect for what he is able to do having seen it first hand as it trashed the car... but he absolutely has not endeared himself to her. He is the man he had seemed to be. As she said, he lived up to his reputation.

"It is the strongest spirit that wins. Let us see, then, whose spirit is strongest."

And all at once she explodes into motion. The girl goes from a standing start to unleashing the nervous energy that has built up in her. Her deep frustration at everything this man has said and done, the scent that clings to him like a foul cloak, her own inability to demonstrate her most impressive skills. This is not, she knows, the calm, rational and detached state that a swordswoman ought to try and reach - this is pure emotion!

But that emotion gives her the strength to cross that distance shockingly fast, and bring her sword swinging in from below in a swift arc that aims to draw a shallow cut across both of Buford's shins.

COMBATSYS: Ichika successfully hits Buford with Artful Slash EX.

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Ichika           0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0           Buford

[BUFORD]
She is much too fast indeed. As she charges, Buford's eyes go wide. He was used to slower swordsmen, not swift ones like this. He brings his sword up high, expecting a frontal assault. Instead, she dips low. Turning his blade, attempts to clash his blade against her to no avail. The slice comes at the calves, the swordsman moving too slow to deflect the blade. Cutting into the fat, the man bleeds profusely at the shins as he lets out an agonized squeak. Instinctively, he brings the hilt to his lips, and takes a deep breath. Exhaling a fat cloud of purple grape, he twirls the blade. "What passion, from someone so petite... You may have the spirit of a warrior, m'lady..."

"...But I have the spirit of a samurai!" He declares as the cloud of mist swirls around him. He turns, twisting himself as he flashes for a wide horizontal slice, attempting to dance away swiftly behind her as he turns. It lacked precision, though it certainly wasn't short on power. Blood trickles down his boots as he uses the winey mist to partially obscure his hefty frame, breathing hard as exhaustion overtakes him all too swiftly. It seems that he had already gone all out at the car. Would he be able to keep up with the swift and elegant blademaiden that already drew first blood?

COMBATSYS: Buford successfully hits Ichika with Spirit Of The Samurai EX.

[    \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Ichika           0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0           Buford

[ICHIKA]
Ichika turns with Buford, or tries to, but she's too slow. The cloud of smoke makes it surprisingly difficult to keep track of the exact location of the blade. Whilst she found it distasteful in the extreme, she couldn't deny the effectiveness of the technique. The slash cuts through her blazer and draws a thin line of blood down her back in turn. If anything, though, it is the man's words which truly cut her.

"I have never aspired to be a Samurai." She says, and there's... real frustration there. Try as she might to keep her emotions under control, they're really starting to get the best of her - even if her anger and frustration are a little more subdued than the flamboyant norm she had observed in the fighting community thus far.

"To be a Samurai is to follow ancient tradition. To dedicate oneself to a Master they put first in all things. To pursue a path of honour, obedience, duty and self-sacrifice. I do not do these things. You are correct. I am a warrior. I am no Samurai. And neither, are YOU."

That rebuke is given with a cutting SLASH of her sword, and a brilliant spark of blue light shimmers from the hilt of the blade to BURST from its tip, a bright shocking ball of pure blue chi perhaps only the size of a tennis ball... and yet, suffused with the full extent of her annoyance, it might just pack a surprising punch itself it is explodes against Buford's forehead as she hopes it will.

COMBATSYS: Ichika successfully hits Buford with Brilliant Spark.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////           ]
Ichika           0/-------/-======|=======\=------\1           Buford

[BUFORD]
Buford stays back in his cloud, waiting, listening. But as Ichika speaks, she does the unthinkable and rejects his statement of being a samurai? Worse yet, she seems to demean herself. For a moment, Buford feels guilty. Was he being too strong with such a young lady? He may have to make himself go back to using 10% of his true strength- but no. As she gives a slash, a spark of energy bursts straight between his eyes. Too slow to dodge, too far into thought to react, he is blown backwards to the asphalt. Was that the end? No, it wouldn't be so easy.

"Justice." Buford begins, as he groans, pulling himself back upright. "Courage. Mercy. Politeness. Sincerity. Honor. Loyalty. And Self-Control. These are the eight virtues of Bushido." Steadying himself out, he continues, his eyes still going in opposite directions from behind the goggles. "I have no master, and I hope to find one in this tournament. Though my heritage is not Japanese, I know the ways of Bushido, and though the path of a samurai is long and winding, I will not falter!" He brings the hilt of his blade to his mouth, and begins to churn a thick and cottony cloud of purple mist. As it ebbs and flows around him, he lets out a billowing exhale of fog. "I feel sorry for you, Kasumoto-chan, that you do not see the beautiful light of a Japanese fighting that I see within you. You are fortunate that I am more than willing to show you just how much more you can be, despite your feminine nature! Do not let my strength discourage you! You could very well be a- kaff- female samurai- kaff!" The fog envelopes his form completely, as he begins coughing, choking on the very cloud he created.

COMBATSYS: Buford pushes himself past 10% of his strength and chokes on his fattest cloud yet...

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Ichika           0/-------/-======|=======\==-----\1           Buford

[ICHIKA]
"*A Japanese*"

Ichika's nostrils flare with indignation. Everything else that Buford had said was bad enough; quoting the Bushido virtues at her as though he were some paragon of them was insulting, the misogyny dripping in much of the rest was nauseating, but *a Japanese* strikes her as even more disgusting than all of that. He thinks that he's complimenting her, but in fact that distinction disturbs her like little else he has said and done. As though she were some separate species to be looked at in the same way one would admire a particularly fine show pony or rare bloom.

"I do not WISH to be a Samurai, you fool!" She shouts, "I will forge a NEW path, I am not living in some nostalgic dream of old Empire!"

Her blood is pumping. She knows that she should regroup. She does not have a clear path to victory in her mind right now; she does not really have a plan at all besides her frantic desire to beat this man. But in the instant, she can't bring herself to marshal her emotions and halt. She propels herself forwards instead, lunging in with her sword held before her...

But the attack doesn't come from the blade. Instead she lets her momentum carry her forwards, and her off hand tries to grasp Buford by the ahegao shirt he is wearing, scrunch up the face of his waifu, and simply heft the man inexpertly to the ground as though she were a bouncer dealing with a particularly rowdy drunk.

It... isn't the kind of elegant move she had hoped to show off; her form on this is quite bad, but in the moment it is what she wants to do. To put this man on the ground. So she can properly look *down* on him.

COMBATSYS: Buford blocks Ichika's Discerning Grasp.

[      \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////             ]
Ichika           0/-------/-----==|=======\=====--\1           Buford

[BUFORD]
From the mist, Buford gives a deep guffaw in response to her emotional shouting as she dives into the mist. He moves surprisingly quick in the fog, already preparing for a slash that will not come. And yet he still talks in that one tone as he gives a guileless rebuttal. "You don't have to be such a melancholy teenager, though I am all too familiar with the feeling! M'lady, you shouldn't be so hostile to the novelty of a female samurai. Imagine how inspiring it must be to think of such a unique and clever idea!" He is snatched out of the mist, as his tasteful anime shirt is gripped. It is torn as he is twisted and thrown, though he rolls with the fall. He tumbles around until he hits against one of the -other- cars in the parking lot. Pushing off against it, he shakes his head and stands, the wiry hairs on his belly exposed through the torn shirt. And then he proceeds to explain to Ichika as he rests his blade against his shoulder, stepping towards her steadily.

"Kasumoto-chan, I understand how you must feel a lot of social pressure by your elders in being a proper female, especially at your age. Because that's how parenting in your culture is, and how you are worried you might disappoint them. But you should embrace your excellence no matter how unfeminine it is!" He levels the blade off his shoulder, and charges at Ichika. He begins slashing the air, making wild unrefined cuts as he charges at her. "Your actions only inspire me, your elder, to stay steadfast on my path. In a way, we are not so different." He turns around, finishing with a full moon slash that brings the last of the mist into a swirling, if harmless, tornado. "And I feel in this duel, this is the beginning of what may be a lifelong alliance between us!"

COMBATSYS: Ichika dodges Buford's Tenderless Reaper.

[      \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////              ]
Ichika           0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0           Buford

[ICHIKA]
Ichika has never felt quite like this before. In her few fights to date she has approached them as a logic puzzle; how much energy to put into each moment, how much of her own body to sacrifice for power, when to hold back and when to push the advantage. When Buford calls her a melancholy teenager it takes her back to the Go salon she so loves. There was more crossover between her usual approach and Go than she had let on to Ota-san; she saw her own body and capabilities as the resources she harnessed, just as on the board she harnessed the stones to build her strategy and win the game.

But in this moment she understands that such an approach may have its limitations. Because this isn't a game. The way Buford resolutely refuses to see her even when she's standing right before him is... obnoxious. It had infuriated her when Djamila had told her that she COULDN'T surpass her. It is infinitely worse to have this man refuse to listen to her words and instead project his own fantasy directly onto her.

She SHOULD focus entirely on the defensive through this assault; the logical part of her mind tells her to block. But instead, her fury tells her that she needs to do more than that. As he slashes wildly at her, she moves with him. Rather than a single unified defense, sparks fly with the clouds as her sword meets his blow for blow and she moves with him, into the attacks. When the last full moon slash disperses the mist there is a clear picture of her; leant backwards to let the blade pass within inches of her nose, her eyes locked resolutely on his, her jaw set.

"Not all of us are a disappointment to our parents, Maclanky-kun."

With the smoke cloud momentarily dispersed she brings her sword around in a diagonal slash, aiming again across that distasteful shirt. Though, this time, if she hits true she remains within his guard, sword pressed up to him and ferocious gaze maintaining hard eye contact.

COMBATSYS: Buford blocks Ichika's Genius Loci EX.

[      \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////               ]
Ichika           0/-------/-----==|======-\-------\0           Buford

[BUFORD]
He is actually stunned when she delivers the cruel retort about being a disappointment. His face drops, his smug resolve wavering for a moment. Buford would have explained how he perfectly understood what a girl like Ichika was, and would even use some of the cartoons he had seen to explain them. But when she describes him as a disappointment to his parents... it hurt almost as much as the feeling when she said no to a team up. He doesn't let himself cry, no, not in battle. A samurai only weeps when he is in solitude, not in the face of a duel. The diagonal slash comes swiftly, and he brings his blade up and around, defending with both hands as it clashes with his own katana. Her strength was at it's clearest now, and he stumbles back as the fury and speed nearly overwhelms his size. Pressing deep against it, the sword begins to drive into his skin, rending his shirt to the smooth chest underneath. Bleeding, he grits his teeth, locking his goggled eyes with the opponent, teeth gritted but expression... wounded.

"M'lady shouldn't be s-so rude about the situation at the Maclanky home!" He blurts out. "After I prove my honor, I will return back to my statuettes, and live a life of luxury as a redeemed samurai master!" His rubbery lips begin to extend out like a camel eating a reed, reaching not for Ichika, but towards the hilt of his blade. Taking in a deep inhale, the hilt whirrs as it swaps vials. Holding his breath, he shoves back at Ichika, and immediately exhales a thick blue cloud that smells of pineapple and coconut. It quickly envelopes both, as the swordsmen twirls. For a moment, the shadowy figures dances in the mist. And then, he strikes. Once from her left, once from her right, and then, he leaps head on, attempt to cleave past her and run away from the mist, escaping from close quarters.

COMBATSYS: Ichika blocks Buford's Cloudchaser EX.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////                ]
Ichika           0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0           Buford

[ICHIKA]
It really is a lot more cruel than Ichika would ordinarily be. She is so often the girl trying hardest to maintain propriety; to meet the expectations laid down for her. In that sense, what Buford had said wasn't exactly wrong, it just also wasn't the whole story. She's sure that many of her classmates will be stunned to see that she had it in her to be so cutting. The sword had been one thing, but the sharpness of her tongue was a wholly unexpected weapon!

The disgusting vapor forces her back on the defensive, however. Where before instinct and fury had helped her maintain her edge and avoid the onslaught, this time she is made to brace wholly, thrusting her sword up to meet his to the right, the left, and to hammer into his own blade as he gets past her. Without the movement to help disperse the force the assault still manages to make her palms ache, and she turns to follow him, her eyes as critical as her judgement.

Finally, the girl ceases in her onslaught on the Ronin hopeful. She swings her sword around, dispersing the remaining cloud before she takes her next, deep breath. There is a gulf of distance between them now. In the background, the wreckage of the car has finally finished burning; the embers dead as the crowd who had gathered for the spectacle of property destruction look on, stunned, at the extremely personal note - on all sides - that this battle seems to have turned into.

"That is your dream." She says, flatly. "Plastic women who cannot deny you. Fame. Luxury. Tch. Perhaps you are closer to the Samurai of old than I gave you credit for."

Her grip tightens on her sword. Her full attention now focused entirely on him. The path to victory... even now, she knows enough to know that he will not make it easy on her, but she MUST seize it. Her emotions and her intellect are unified as one in this.

COMBATSYS: Ichika focuses on her next action.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////                ]
Ichika           0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0           Buford

[BUFORD]
As he escapes the cloud, Buford doubles over, almost out of breath. Turning around, he stares back at Ichika, body drenched in sweat and blood. And there, nakedly, she delivers a second barrage of barbed retorts. And yet, this time, it seems they did not make their mark. Buford smirks, nodding along as she speaks of his beautiful plastic figurines that await him at his family home, still safe and secure in their pickle containers. Fame. Luxury. Exactly. Buford flashes his mossy teeth in a full grimace of a smile, and then grabs his trench coat. He pulls it off, flinging it to the ground, allowing his full, rather lumpy form show itself with the tight tatters of his t-shirt bound tightly against his pasty white flash, soaked with that sweat and blood.

He bows to Ichika again. "Thank you! I appreciate that you considered me just like the samurai of old! It means a lot to me! I'm sorry I was so moody with you Kasumoto-chan. For a moment I thought you really didn't appreciate me as a sort of older brother figure. How could I have missed the obvious in front of me, and not realize you were just a bit of a tsundere!" Gripping his blade with both hands up to his eyes, he exhales, and then charges. Flailing his sword over his head, he surges at Ichika, attempting to bring all his speed and weight into a fierce overhead swipe. All while shouting aloud in what seems to be an imitation of a banzai charge.

COMBATSYS: Ichika fails to interrupt Crushing Strike from Buford with Intercepting Strike EX.

[             \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////                ]
Ichika           0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0           Buford

[ICHIKA]
Ichika sighs softly as the man completely misunderstands her point. That too isn't so surprising, she thinks. She should have seen that coming. The Samurai of old - the true Samurai - were hardly people to be admired. The Samurai of legend, the heroes of myth, were something else entirely. But most Samurai, as most people in positions of considerable power these days, were corrupt fools who could hardly be considered worthy of respect let alone worthy of imitation.

The girl's gaze is steel itself as Buford closes the gap on her. Letting him come to her, she waits until she believes the moment is right --

And then flinches at the *wail* that comes pouring from the big man's mouth. Her sword dips erratically to the side, and he SLAMS down onto her shoulder with his full, considerable weight. The blade cuts deep into her. She grits her teeth, buckled down to one knee...

And then she forcibly stands. Glaring.

"Please. Understand this one thing. If you leave here having learned only one lesson, let it be that my distaste... is entirely, genuine."

[BUFORD]
Buford towers over Ichika, the aftermath of his strike. He steps back, as the girl rises back up. Mercy, after all, is one of the eight virtues. He does not press the advantage, grinning that wide mossy grin as he burbles out mirthfully, "My apologies, m'lady, it seems I could not contain the animal I have become!" He shoulders his blade, allowing her to stare back at him in what he has decided is such a tsundere manner. "Hmmm, yes. It would be entirely ingenue. Innocent, virtuous, and candid. Particularly childlike, or as you might call it in your tongue, 'Moe.' I have learned this quite well, m'lady. I hope to use this lesson to a far better understanding on my path in becoming a samurai master." He tips his fedora at her, his chest rising and falling with strained breaths. Never has he had such a work out in his entire life.

He unshoulders the blade. "But this duel is not yet over. Suchimusodo has tasted blood, and it only hungers for more! I cannot allow to take control.... I must not allow myself to fall into the darkness!" He strides towards Ichika, whipping the sword around wildly and rather recklessly. And then he sheaths it. And he begins to close in, as he... reaches for Ichika. He wasn't going to try and grab her was he? "So I must use the traditional Japanese arts of Judojitsu, developed in the tradition of Samurai themselves, to carefully use your weight against you and disable you non-lethally! Normally I would need you to grab my wrist, but, I think I can, hang on." He attempts to grab Ichika by the shoulder, and should he have a grip, he will attempt what is somehow a contender for the most embarrassing example of martial skill so far in this tournament, where he seems to just kind of pushes Ichika around and hope she falls to the ground like in those videos he saw. "Hiya!" He calls out. He was not saying hello.

COMBATSYS: Buford successfully hits Ichika with Medium Throw.

[                \\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////               ]
Ichika           1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0           Buford

[ICHIKA]
What's even more embarrassing about the display is the fact that Ichika isn't able to get out of it. What had been intended as a demonstration of their mutual skill has turned into the pair fumbling and infuriating each other more and more. Except that Buford, of course, seems entirely immune to concepts like shame - or, indeed, reality. His stubborn refusal to acknowledge her, to actually see her and hear the words she is saying, is even more angering than her inability to prove Djamila wrong.

That, at least, had been a fight she needed to have.

She'd *chosen* this fight, and as Buford manages to grab her wrist and she can't jerk free, she is roughly manhandled around in a way that brings tears to her eyes. Not of pain, but of sheer frustration. This simply isn't how she had envisioned the fight going. The path to victory tried to envision was completely obscured. Every time she thought she could grasp it, the man did something to throw it back into chaos.

"E-enough of this!"

Ichika has indeed fallen to the ground - but she doesn't stay there for long. Instead, there's something *very* ugly in her expression as she rises. Her hair, usually mussy enough, is now truly wild. Her teeth are clenched. But it's the look in her eye which is most disturbing. Buford, for all his faults, is trying very hard NOT to hurt her...

She looks like she wants to kill him.

"I will NOT lose to YOU. That is NOT HAPPENING."

And with that she screams herself - a loud cry that might just put one in mind of the banshee-like scream he had given her when he charged, only she's not going for his shoulder - she tries to run the far larger man right through with her sword!

COMBATSYS: Buford blocks Ichika's Power Strike.

[                \\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Ichika           1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0           Buford

[BUFORD]
Standing over the fallen Ichika, he dusts off his hands. "There! Victory achieved! Now, M'lady, let me help you-" And then she screams. Buford looks at the expression on her face, and something seems to click. Buford's smug face drops away like a bad hat. His bad hat drops away from on top of his head like his smug face. His pattern baldness exposed to the air in a neat and efficient comb over, as it seems now, with the young lady screaming into a wild berserker frenzy, that Buford might have been misunderstood in his intentions. Before he has time to explain what his intentions have been, and how Ichika needs to take a moment and think about what Buford actually means, and how she is supposed to react to a cool and wise swordsman like himself, she's actually going to run him through with a sword.

Buford pats at his sheath as he fumbles to draw it out in the Iaido-Inspired Kenjutsu style, he stumbles backwards as she's at him. In a panic, he sweeps both of his hands into the blade, letting out a high pitched whine as it slices up his thick, calloused palms. Falling on his bottom, he looks up at Ichiki with wide eyes behind his goggles, jaw slack. "Kasumoto-chan, you need to calm down! You are being absolutely hysterical!" He calls out, trying to diffuse the situation. Gripping the hilt of his blade, he gives another whine as the bloodied palms barely can clench it. Fear forcing him through the pain, he pulls it out. The hilt that is. IN the fumbling it has become detached from the blade. Whimpering, Buford throws out a quick and desperate kick at Ichika, trying to get her off balanced and off from ripping him apart. This duel has suddenly gotten much more dangerous and dramatic than even his expectations. And all because of things completely out of his control, that he could not have possibly predicted or prepared for.

COMBATSYS: Ichika blocks Buford's Light Kick.

[                 \\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Ichika           1/------=/=======|=======\-------\0           Buford

[ICHIKA]
"Hysterical, am I?!"

She... might be. The kick thuds into her raised guard and there's certainly very little evidence that Ichika is in a calm and reasonable state of mind. In fact, the pressure that the girl has taken a very visible toll on her. As much as she would never admit it, Buford is right that she has placed a vast weight of societal expectation on herself. She is the family genius. The prodigy child who will bring renown to the Kasumoto family... even if she has been completely unable to figure out a way to DO that. She is a student of Justice High, destined to become one of the Super Elite, and yet she spends every weekend she can scrubbing dishes and plays games of Go in an old parlor because she can't connect with the lofty peers she finds herself forced to interact with. She wants to build a better world, but she is unable even to overcome a mockery of her culture more suited to an unpleasant YouTube comment's section than the beautiful world of combat she had envisioned when reading all those books about fighting.

Her mind flashes back to the hotel, where her desperate attempts to reach out to her fellow fighters had been met with humiliation and scorn. Hawksley thought she was some pathetic little girl looking for a father-figure, Coco would never forget the insult she had paid Captain Morgan, she was fairly sure that her father had thrown up on John's shoes, and she'd even gotten Chevy's name disastrously wrong! None of this is how her story was supposed to go!

She hates that she can feel tears rising in her eyes. Not even strong enough to hold THAT inside?

The girl closes her eyes and she swallows it all. The recrimination, the self-doubt, the genuine *loathing* she feels for Buford. And as she does, her spirit swells. She has often found herself able to reach just that little bit further -- but she's never stretched so far before, never felt so keenly aware that, yes, this is her heart she is calling upon.

When she opens those eyes again, they are literally ablaze. Brilliant blue energy burning within her.

"You are lost in your fantasy, Maclanky-kun. I will cut through that now. Look at me. Look. At. Me."

And with that the girl inverts her grip on her sword, both hands grasping it tight, and drives it deep into the ground.

The detonation of energy she unleashes is startling. Blue chi roars out of her in a perfect sphere, six feet across, and burns a good chunk of what remains of the wreckage of the vehicle to nothing. Hopefully, it will burn away her opponent's delusions as well...

Though perhaps that is asking for too much.

Either way, when the sphere clears, the girl is still left glowing in the middle of it; energy stubbornly stuck to her skin, refusing to let the demonstration of her dream fade away so quickly.

COMBATSYS: Ichika successfully hits Buford with Tomorrow's World.

[                  \\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////                          ]
Ichika           0/-------/-------|=======\======-\1           Buford

[BUFORD]
Buford struggles to click his sword back in. He had to click his sword back into the hilt. He needed to vaporize it with the blade. And yet as he struggles, his kick barely staves off the very angry Ichika. He had theories on why she was upset, and nearly all of them didn't involve Buford making any mistakes other than being misunderstood. Just like how his mothe- how the Matriarch of the Maclanky clan misunderstood him over her most recent boyfriend. It finally makes that signature latching sound, and he looks up. And it's too late. It's all too late, as he looks at her. Terror seizes in his face for a moment, as it dawns on Buford that he was not going to escape. As she drives the blade in the ground, there is the singular tragedy. What passes through his mind was not regrets. It was not a realization on how far his delusions were taking them, and how much they were separating himself from the people who he admires. It was not recognizing how much he contributed to this young girls anger and fury, and how much he deserved what was happening now. No, the realization he has is as simple as this: Wow, this is just like my Japanese cartoons.

The blast comes at him, and he just curls up in a ball. Buford begins to weep as the energy rakes over him. It was like a bomb, blowing away his shirt, stripping down his upper torso as it washes over him. It hurts so badly, and he wasn't used to this pain at all. The blast sends him hurtling across the asphalt, adding road rash to the pain. But he doesn't uncurl when the blast clears. No, he stays balled up, sobbing and whimpering like a baby as he trembles. Slowly, he unclenches himself from his fetal position. His skin was no longer wet and pasty, but red and swollen. It hurt to move, it hurt to breath. And yet, he still manages to shriek out. "I... I yield!" He squeals, pulling away his goggles to allow the tears out. He groans as he rolls over, his body now bleeding at the swollen sores of the energy blast. The man stares up at Ichika from only meters away, and he babbles out, struggling not to just break down crying there. "I look at you and see you!" And despite the intense pain, he makes his last action. He bows at Ichika, giving a great snort and sniffle as he chokes down his sobs. "Truly my western ways are inferior to the amazing techniques of Japan! Please forgive me, Kasumoto-chan! Please forgive me for my proud Canadian hubris!"

[ICHIKA]
As Ichika pulls her sword back out of the ground she lets go of a breath that she hadn't even been aware she was holding. The girl is still glowing, suffused with that bright inner light, and... that's surprising, to her. She is actually looking down more at herself than at was has become of her opponent. When he squeals his surrender, she catches herself. Looks at him. Sees him... even if he, still, does not truly see her.

She did that.

It's a powerful moment for Ichika. All of the anxiety that had been knotting so heavily in her gut feels as though it has loosened. After pulling off such a thing, who could say that she doesn't belong in this tournament as much as anyone else? Perhaps now the students at her school would not look at her with such pity. It is a sad thing, really. She yearns for acceptance and the approval of her peers as much as this man does. As she looks at his battered body, she remembers the words she had spoken to Ota-san, though.

For some of us to demonstrate our worth, others of us must fall.

With a deliberate motion she sheathes the sword.

"Kasumoto-/sama/."

The correction is harsh, and she has no further words for him. She simply turns her back, and walks away.

Log created on 10:12:43 04/18/2023 by Ichika, and last modified on 12:34:53 04/19/2023.