World Warrior 2023 - R1: Fei Long vs Kasumi

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Description: The action star and master of Hiten-ryu Kung Fu faces down the exiled, the hunted former heiress of the Mugen Tenshin shinobi. Will the movie star's burning fists be enough? Will Kasumi's speed carry her to victory?



[KASUMI]
The sun is setting in the western sky, providing a golden glow across the middle third of this rooftop courtyard. The rest of it is covered in shadows cast by the other towering slum buildings that neighbor this one. The sky above is still transitioning through shades of golden fire and rose colored heavens. The shadows are welcome relief from the sweltering heat of this slowly decaying district in northern Hong Kong. The living spaces behind the slipshod walls are minuscule, but for countless thousands, they're 'home'.

Many of the residents are out on their balconies, watching the sunset from behind cage-like bars or hanging laundry out to try on the network of cords criss-crossing above. Still others seem to be simply waiting, as if there was a certain energy in the air that told them that something extraordinary was going to happen here this evening.

It would be hard to imagine that no one had already noticed the exiled nukenin of the Mugen Tenshin seated on the edge of the tallest tower adjacent to the courtyard. After all, wherever she went in public, she was sure to draw eyes even if not dressed in her azure shinobi training outfit. A wrap dress of sturdy sapphire blue cloth rests over her figure, seemingly cinched closed by a white sash wrapped tightly around a slender waist. White stockings pulled up to mid-thigh cover athletic legs and augment the splashes of white found on the skirt of her outfit in a pattern of graceful, flying swans. Over each forearm and on the front of each leg to mid-shin are sturdy blue reinforced guards and on each foot a thin tabi-sandal offers protecting from rough surfaces at least.

Soft copper colored hair is tied back into a lose ponytail by a blue ribbon done up in a bow making it easy to see the thin white choker around her neck. The ends of the ribbon hang down a ways past her shoulders, partially concealing the large kanji emblazoned in a golden circle on her back: Kasumi.

But even without the potential allure of her training outfit, the young woman is someone would struggle to go unnoticed in a crowd. A pretty face, soft, mysterious, and focused all at once, copper brown eyes left unshadowed by the bangs of her hair. Her figure is a combination of athletic trim strength and curves in the right places to draw attention.

But Kasumi is a ninja. One of the best there is. And even though she sits openly under the shadow of a billboard that hasn't hosted an actual advertisement in decades, no one seems to glance her way, as if her presence was suppressed to the point to make her invisible to the the untrained eye.

She smiles in spite herself. There was a time where she pursued public fighting because she desperately needed the money. Since her team's victory in King of Fighters, that is no longer a motive. Now she fights because she enjoys it, enjoys meeting new people and seeing their styles in action, enjoys the thrill of the challenge... There is a lot to look forward in this year's World Warrior tournament. Maybe she'll even make a friend or two along the way?

Pushing down, she gets her feet beneath her, remaining in a half crouch as she watches the courtyard below. A soft intake of breath and she vanishes into a swirling spiral of pink blossoms only to reappear an instant later in a shadowed side of the courtyard itself, a second bust of cherry blossoms appearing only to be carried away by the wind. Even though she rises to standing on crumpled sheet metal flooring, her movement makes no sound. With interest, she glances around the landing. She had already scoped out its dimensions, perils, and opportunities from above, but it never hurts to take a second look.

And so Kasumi, once princess of the Mugen Tenshin clan of ninjas, waits, looking every bit the image of a flawless kunoichi.

What better way to kick off World Warrior, she muses, than with a bit of Hong Kong combat action?

Considering any damage inflicted will be more than paid for by the event runners, this could turn out to be good deal more useful to the residents just now starting to take notice of the young woman than simply providing an entertaining distraction. But that will all depend on how things go with her opponent, of course!

[FEI LONG]
It's a bittersweet thing for Fei Long, to set foot in places like these high-rise tenements. On the outskirts of Aberdeen during his youth, many similar abandoned structures and simple fishing boats provided him shelter and some solace; but despite Aberdeen's upswing and the return of many commercial enterprises to the oft-crowded port, it's never so much an elevation of the locals so much as a displacement of certain undesirables.

Some find these crumbling, single rooms; and many aren't even this lucky. So it is that this particular high-rise became host this evening to a pop-up soup kitchen and free grocery. Fei Long has been here some hours, signing autographs, serving food, giving nutritional advice for staying healthy on next to no money.

It's a thing he has some knowledge on, and by all appearances the charismatic up and comer could go on for all of said hours; some grouchier sorts will say he -did-. It's also advisable, he notes, to sell the autographs if it does not break one's heart to do so; perhaps a leg up on other, more personal dreams. Fei Long may have clawed up from nothing, may be only growing in fame nationwide-- but he clearly remembers where he came from. That, and does not haughtily confuse the idea that -any- hobo in a given fight might get that prized bottle with imagining that means there's enough booze going around for everyone.

Still, he gives that concept of mutual abundance a little, albeit temporary push. In so doing, the Flying Dragon draws a crowd long before the fight is set to begin. They come from the surrounding neighborhood, and in some cases even farther. They parade out onto the rooftop courtyard in waves under Kasumi's watchful gaze. They rush to overlooks in neighboring structures as the roof becomes too crowded to dare-- or the opportunity for a VIP vantage too tempting to resist.

Fei Long arrives in one of those waves, laughing and demonstrating several moves to a group of children of myriad ages. He's dressed in a finely tailored crimson jacket along with his kung-fu attire-- loose matching pants and soft-soled, simple slip-on shoes. The ensemble is delicately accented in golden trim, stitched and styled in a way at once modern and evocative of the city so many of them call home; the place he grew up...

Hong Kong. Fei Long scans the skyline, and his intense, sable gaze snaps to Kasumi even as she appears as if from thin air. Even if he didn't zero in on her before... the local star is attuned enough to be keenly aware of who he's looking at, and for, whether her own legend reached him before now, or not.

The apartments immediately below them have been cleared by his own crew for safety, and cameramen make final adjustments for opportune angles on the unfolding bout. Fei Long slips easily out of his jacket and hands it off to one aide with a murmur; it then finds its way to a superfan in Fei Long's wake as the Flying Dragon bows to the Kunoichi.

"I am eager to see what you can do." He admits, polite, soft-spoken tones reverberating subtly with something between humility and adrenaline. "And to test myself in this world-class contest." The cheers crescendo in enthralled agreement. An announcer struggles to hype the face-off further. Fei Long warmly, widely smiles, and draws the deepest of breaths.

[KASUMI]
Watching the interactions of the renown martial artists with the downtrodden that call these rickety structures home, a lot about this unusual venue clicks into place for Kasumi. World Warrior bouts were often headliners at major arenas, drawing massive crowds and packing expensive seats full to bursting. Why they would arrange for a match where only those at the bottom rungs of society could attend in person had been a puzzling question initially. But now the shinobi in blue has every reason to believe she's looking at the reason why.

To see him welcomed as one of their own provokes a tinge of jealousy that is quickly suppressed. To walk comfortably among a community, to be welcomed and embraced by it - that was a life she had known once herself. But with a blink of her eyes, she dismisses the errant thought. Her opponent is drawing near. And while she finds herself feeling respect for one who seems to have kept success from going to his head, she'll have to take the true measure of the man in combat.

She is watching him as he draws near, feeling the electric energy of this place. It would have been so easy for a match in such surroundings to be an almost somber affair, but there is a charge to the atmosphere now, an excitement that had started off localized but has spread throughout the community like wildfire. It's hard not to let it take hold as well and while she is experienced enough to not be fully caught up in the ardent fervor of the locals, the young woman can't help but smile warmly back toward her opponent.

Hands folded in front of her, the kunoichi bows, her ponytail slipping down around her neck and coming to rest on her shoulder as she rises back up.

"Well, if you see everything-"

She slips her right leg forward, raising her hands in a relaxed but clearly ready stance that will allow her to be quick on her feet rather than hunkered down.

"I wouldn't be a very good ninja."

Her grin builds briefly then fades away. The announcer's voice begins to fade from her focus, and before long it is just her and the famous fighter opposite. He will recognize with ease the determination in her eyes - that while she might be affable enough to speak with, when it comes to the match itself, she will be giving it her all.

"Still," Kasumi continues with a slight nod of her head, voice steady and respectful.

"I consider it an honor to test the art of Mugen Tenshin against the father of Hiten-ryu."

COMBATSYS: Kasumi has started a fight here.

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Kasumi           0/-------/-------|


[FEI LONG]
From somewhere in the expanse below, an antique gong is hauled up the stairway by a pair of diligent handlers, carried to the edge of the rooftop-turned-arena. As the tonal implement is stationed, the uproar through the crowd redoubles in a wave of aural fervour, and the Flying Dragon's smile grows just a bit wider. At the energy around them; at the kunoichi's politely sharpened greeting.

"A spiritual guardian and a guardian of spirits." Fei Long quips in return; it's liable to get memed. "Testing their might in the midst of the fiercest survivors on the face of the Earth!" If any doubted Fei Long's connection to the underclasses of Hong Kong, there's certainly no questioning their connection to /him/. Before the fight even starts, the Flying Dragon charms the proverbial hearts and minds. "Whatever the outcome of this bout-- we will stand as fierce champions, tempered in its flame!"

The declaration is as much for the crowd as for Kasumi herself, perhaps-- and they do, indeed, eat it up-- but part of what makes the action star who he is is that sincerity-tinged intensity; a difficult thing for the finest actor to fake. Then again, he -is- the finest actor?!?

Three--
Two--
One--

FIGHT!

The gong rings a clarion call throughout the concrete valleys and crumbled peaks of the tenements, in a moment of near-stillness, as if everyone spectating took a breath at once.

As the count sounds, the Flying Dragon tenses. His stance wide, his muscles taut, when the gong sounds out he is in motion in a half-blink of the swiftest eye. One stride, two, and a swift, short hop the last span carries him abruptly into Kasumi's personal space. His right foot shoots high, snapping nearly vertical in the instants before descent-- a descent that brings a leading heel axe-ing back down at the Mugen Tenshin ninja, right between the eyes.

"KYAAAAAH!!!"

COMBATSYS: Fei Long has joined the fight here.

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Kasumi           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0         Fei Long


COMBATSYS: Kasumi auto-guards Fei Long's Shokkarakusho.

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Kasumi           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0         Fei Long


[KASUMI]
Honey brown eyes flick to the gong as it is settled into place, Kasumi's smile warming even a bit more. She would admit to rarely getting swept up in the spectacle of the matches she appears in, training herself to focus on her opponents, learning their style, answering their threats with the weapons of her martial arsenal, testing strength, speed, and technique against another... But she can't help but feel the thrill building in the eager crowd, of the world holding its breath for what is to come. The announcer might be the one counting down to match start, but it is the gong that will declare it for all to hear.

Fei Long speaks and his words bring her smile back to the forefront of her expression.

"Eloquent." the shinobi replies. "And strong?" Kasumi shakes her head, giving the Hong Kong native a lopsided grin as she maintains her state of readiness... as if she hadn't been ready for a fight the moment she got here. "What a package."

The master of Hiten-ryu demonstrates his own resolve as he closes in without hesitation on one known to move as lightning itself. Both arms raise, forming a folded arm block in the path of the descending heel, forearm guards in place to absorb some of the impact. The muscle of her back leg tenses, as if the kunoichi was preparing to brace against the impact and hope that the buckled sheet metal beneath her feet could survive the kinetic force about to be placed upon it.

But his skilled eye will see how she begins to move in the instant before they make contact, her raised arms shifting from being a stalwart shield to protect her face to an angled ramp with which to redirect the scything of his leg past her even as she twists out of the way. There is a solid clack as her forearm guards absorb some of the blow and a complaining screech of old metal being tested as she steps hard around to his side.

Her wrists will twist then, turning her hands to attempt to secure a hold of the legend's attacking leg and pull him down out of his descent into face forward slam against the dusty metal. It's a risky move, since if the floor gives out, she might be dropping down into the abode right below right along with him. But in fights at this tier, one can't except to claim victory without taking chances!

COMBATSYS: Fei Long counters Medium Throw from Kasumi with Shoenryu.

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Kasumi           0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0         Fei Long


[FEI LONG]
"I am in high demand for good reason." The Hiten-ryu champion merrily informs his opponent, a good-natured humor to the boast. While Fei Long's eloquence may readily land, his strength takes another moment to find traction-- opposed as it is by a masterful ninja, and all. The swiftly measured precision to the Hiten-ryu progenitor's technique may not apply its force to Kasumi's forehead, but it -does- leave the Flying Dragon true to his name.

Agile, flexible, prepared even in this moment of utterly suboptimal impact. Kasumi's perfect guard transitions with fluid immediacy into a reprisal, and in turn that smooth reprisal transitions into impressive aerial grace on Fei Long's part. Kasumi finds momentary purchase, but even as she seeks to alter the Flying Dragon's momentum, his opposite leg kicks upwards and sidelong, cartwheeling the Hong Kong star upwards and into a twist with the kunoichi's intended momentum.

Moments before full viselike purchase can slam him downwards, Fei Long kicks that way himself, descending perched on a perfectly positioned foot as the attached limb deftly flexes beneath him. All of this in the instants of descent, between the deflection of his initial strike and the potential crash-landing of his face to the aged rooftop. The upshot is that Fei Long lands out of that slam -right- beside Kasumi, a sidelong sweep of his elbow dislodging her hold fully and forcing an instantaneous opening in her guard-- or continued offense.

This brief window is filled with a one-inch punch to her sternum, a technique that would shatter a lesser ribcage, and even in the case of the exiled Mugen Tenshin princess, is liable to provide a sharp reversal in velocity with the abrupt application of precision violence-- and the eruption of fiery conflagration around the movie star's leading fist, the brilliant life-cycle of a torch experienced in another instant, its flaming crown blooming to life, bursting to momentary magnitude, and winking out in the aftermath of its hungrily devoured fuel.

Fei Long's heart needs no warming; and his soul yet burns! "HHHH-YAAAAH!!!"

[KASUMI]
The frenetic series of attacks and defenses that transpire in the opening exchange takes place too fast for most audiences to even follow. A blur of limbs, the whipping of a ponytail and metallic whine of strained alloy all happens in an instant. It is the type of sequence that slow motion replays with high-definition footage were made for.

But for the two fighters in the midst of this violent dance, nothing escapes their notice.

Kasumi is immediately aware that her attempt to wrest control of the legendary fighter's momentum have been thwarted by instantaneous reflexes on his part. She never quite gets her grip, his body moving with the flexibility and mach speed of a cracking whip to slip just out of reach. It leaves her arms extended and guard open for a moment, but that is something she's already correcting for as she pivots her left hand into an open palm and draws her right hand back at shoulder level, elbow bent, fingers straightening for a knife-handed strike.

There isn't time enough to reposition her stance and so the intended blow will not be a significant one - but it might interrupt his own plans long enough for her to transition into a follow up-

A flaming one-inch punch courtesy of Hiten-ryu says otherwise. Kasumi's tries to correct in time, left palm moving to intercept only to be brushed aside by the sweeping elbow. Already committed, the kunoichi tries to stay the course anyway, snapping her right hand forward with a knife hand stabbing strike near where his neck meets shoulder. His own follow-through proves to be a split second faster and the exchange comes to decisive conclusion as the shinobi in blue is sent flying back from the blow, having been in no position to brace her stance for the impact.

Whether the tarp covered old crates mitigates her landing or exacerbates it is hard to say, as her upper back smashes against the neglected pile. Though the splinters of the breaking crates are largely kept from spraying everywhere by the tarps, a large cloud of dust billows up around Kasumi as she comes to rest sprawled on top of the debris, eyes blinking with some surprise. Her right hand moves to where she was struck absently, brushing where skin is both red and showing signs of scorching with a shake of her head, she's back in the fight.

Pushing off with her hands, she gets her feet beneath her, ending up in a low crouch atop the rumpled tarp. Eyes lock back on the cinema legend and she springs into the air into a forward flip. Near the apex, she unfolds her body, snapping her leg up along her body in a sharp vertical split, and attempts to drop her heel right atop his head in a move not too unlike his opening gambit.

But in the ninja exile's case, this is only the first of two strikes, meant more to misdirect her opponent's guard than actually deliver a decisive strike.

"HA!"

The follow up would come if her feet are allowed to touch the ground, her left hand reaching out to seize his left arm and yank it painfully forward toward her while her right elbow moves into place to target his side.

If she secures the guard dismantling hold, she'll rocket forward then, driving her right elbow into his ribcage, moving as the lightning in a blur of white and blue.

COMBATSYS: Kasumi successfully hits Fei Long with Oboro Gake.

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Kasumi           0/-------/---====|=======\-------\1         Fei Long


[FEI LONG]
Turnabout, turnabout of the turnabout, and reprisal to the turnabout of the turnabout all happen in the blink of an eye. Perhaps most observing won't be able to capture every nuance until the slow-motion recap and analysis in the later broadcasts, but by the uproarious energy, they dig it nonetheless. Really, with Kasumi leading with that aerial axe-kick opener, does it become a turnabout of a turnabout of a turnabout? Probably.

Either way, the Flying Dragon lifts expert guard high when the kunoichi rejoins the fray in short order, and /almost/ mirrors the deflection she attempted-- but the ninja's speed and feinting alacrity slip that defense, and on top of cracking him soundly in the skull, Fei Long is left with his defenses uselessly high, and his limb readily snared.

There's a lot of similarity in the blow that launches him, as well-- delivered by elbow rather than fist, the action star's torso is jolted out of alignment a moment ahead of the rest of him as he's sent hurtling clear of Kasumi, dropping to one knee and a bracing foot in a haphazardly controlled skid away from his opponent.

This time, to hit the beat yet again, it is Fei Long's turn to briskly shake his head, seeking to swiftly clear it. "Impressive." The Flying Dragon admits without consternation, a small smile returning to his mouth. "It will take all of Hiten-ryu's versatile mastery to match you, and the lessons your style teaches will be well learned; I swear it."

There's an intensity to the friendly politesse that belies its weight, its importance, the utter warm welcome Fei Long gives to this challenge... and the serious, scholarly bent to his pursuit of combat and glory. To creating a truly comprehensive mastery of not only style-- but lifestyle! His dark eyes remain fixed on her, an alarming inner charge of energy building in every sinew as Fei Long tenses, nods, and reprises his ready stance, one hand open and one clenched in a fist as he weaves on agile footing before her.

COMBATSYS: Fei Long focuses on his next action.

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Kasumi           0/-------/---====|=======\-------\1         Fei Long


[KASUMI]
Kasumi slides into the follow through of her elbow strike, feet coming to rest on rough, cracked and chipped stucco that looks like someone hastily mopped over a concrete slab a decade ago. That she managed to push him far enough back to buy a window to recover is fortuitous given the absolute, uncompromising commitment she had poured into the attempt. A soft exhale and then she's standing again, arms swinging easily back into her loose ready stance that even a cursory analysis will show can flow easily between striking, guarding, and grappling without requiring major movements to adjust.

Against many opponents, she'd rush forward immediately, closing the distance, keeping the pressure on. But she's already learned from their initial barrage of attacks and defenses that it is a versatile, quickly adapting opponent she faces. Such reckless aggression might not serve her well here. Her mind races, starting to circle around Fei Long, pivoting ever so slightly with each step as to keep her angle toward him unchanged even as she navigates the uneven rooftop courtyard.

But then he speaks and for a fleeting moment, her mind shifts out of trying to find the gap in his defense and a half second later, the intensely focused look on her face allows for a half smile reflected in her deceptively gentle looking eyes.

"I appreciate that. Though I confess that I would rather those lessons sink in /after/ the match."

Her tone is light, easy - for the ribbing she's giving him, it's clear that she's finding this bout more entertaining than some of her more violently serious matches. There's just something about the Hong Kong legend that brings a different feel to battle, she realizes.

He resumes his ready stance and the kunoichi maintains her controlled circuit around him, tension building in the crowd as the seconds tick by. Studying him, his stance, his readiness, she sees the armor his form presents, leaving no openings to exploit that she can see from the front.

Perhaps that is the logic behind her next move, then, when she breaks from her stride to surge back toward him once again. Two steps in and the ninja takes to the air in a forward flip. From out of it, she could unleash any number of weapons in her arsenal - a dropping elbow, a two-legged drop kick, locking onto him to wrest him to the ground... Her movements give no clue as to what option she will utilize... and in the end, it proves to be none of the above as she aims to drop down right /past/ Fei Long, landing behind him, her back to his.

There is an instant of vulnerability in this gambit, but she lands already in a low crouch, and the delay between her feet hitting the surface and her suddenly launching herself right toward his upper back, hopping into a shoulder first slam in an attempt to break through that armor and bowl him over!

COMBATSYS: Fei Long instinctively blocks Kasumi's Suisei Chu.

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Kasumi           0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1         Fei Long


[FEI LONG]
Core to the lessons of the Legendary Dragon, core to the founding principles of Hiten-ryu, core to the elemental success of Fei Long's entire martial discipline is a singular mantra. Be Like the Water. Versatile. Adaptable. Ferocious and soft in equal measure, shifting readily around every obstacle, wearing down every barrier.

"Suboptimal." The Flying Dragon warmly observes, despite the criticism. "Analysis in hindsight yields a different lesson than instinct in the heat of battle!" Such philosophical questions may be very arguable; but Fei Long believes it fully. As do no shortage of cheering onlookers!

Intent sable eyes track Kasumi's renewed assault, trace her skyward leap. The Flying Dragon weaves left, weaves right, twists momentarily back to back with his cunning opponent; and chuckles, in that moment of danger.

"That's a very good trick." The Fei Long fan will know he performs a very similar maneuver-- though he often ends his somersaulting passage with a stern sweep to the legs! In this case, his own rotation continues, mirroring Kasumi's to bring his own braced shoulder in line with hers in nearly perfect synch. Her forceful momentum jolts the Flying Dragon, but suddenly those currents sweep forward to oppose the hurtling stone, resilient musculature and an abrupt bracing stance do much to limit the damage the deadly Kunoichi Princess does.

"YAAAAH!" The kiai isn't really a warning; it comes out at the same moment that the Flying Dragon's form blurs into a breathtakingly swift lunge. This lunge is led by a snapping jab aligned squarely with Kasumi's face, Fei Long's stride pressuring her personal space persistently. "YAAAAAAAH!" His second fist comes in swift rhythmic follow-through to the first, an inverted fist snapping for the ninja's ribs.

"KKKKH-YAAAH!" A third half-step falls in the tenacious offensive sprint, and the Flying Dragon's agile, tautly muscled frame spins a full turn to align a sweeping backhand with Kasumi's skull.

One, two, three-- each punch more dangerous than the last. But perhaps the real threat is the volcanic display of the action star's namesake, a flaring gout of flame erupting from his hands, coursing raggedly over his knuckles, trailing hungrily up his arms; and erupting angrily about any strike that finds its purchase on the Mugen Tenshin exile.

COMBATSYS: Fei Long successfully hits Kasumi with Rekkaken.
- Power hit! -

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Kasumi           0/-------/=======|=======\=====--\1         Fei Long


[KASUMI]
He proves quicker to respond than the kunoichi had anticipated, pivoting his shoulder to meet hers even as she rises up to apply her combined force against his back. Her momentum halted, her feet find quick purchase on the ground as the pressure of the tide is turned right back on the lighter fighter. It's clear that the moment he managed to mitigate the attack, she had no intention of lingering in a contest of raw strength, but neither does she look like she's about to retreat. In close, exchanging exhilaratingly fast blows where disaster or success rests on a knife's edge, is exactly where she wants to be.

Already committing to a follow up attack, her back foot twisting to plant, her arms lifting up out of their lowered position from the shoulder slam, she never sees the first hit coming until it's striking her right between the eyes.

Head knocked back, whatever plan of attack she had in mind is completely jettisoned from her thoughts - replaced instantly by a field of stars. There is not even a split second to recover before his second blow finds her unguarded ribs with an accompanying burst of flame, provoking a pained gasp as air is forced from her battered torso.

In spite the pain, in spite his speed, she does muster an iota of recovery following the strike to her side, righting her head, bringing her arms up in a hasty guard, hands open, clearly trying to catch his anticipated follow up.

But it's to no avail, his backfist crashing against the side of her head with another explosive impact and enough force to send her spinning on her back foot into a near-falling stumble away from the Hong Kong hero. She comes to a rest when her back hits the wrought iron railing on the open side of the structure, eliciting a metallic creak of protest from the fence clearly not designed for combat tests even when it was new.

Leaning forward slightly, Kasumi's hand goes to her side, a cursory inspection verifying the presence of a cracked rib from the exchange. Nothing she hasn't experienced before, though that doesn't make it hurt any less. The bleeding on the right side of her lip and scorched marks on her cheek and side of her training outfit leave no question as to who came out the worst in that exchange, as a rosy pink works its way into her cheeks from the pain.

But still her expression looks resolved as she keeps her focus on Fei Long, forcing herself to ignore the sharp pain in her side. She can't be held back by a little thing like that after all. Sucking in her breath, she gives the Hiten-ryu master a nod of acknowledgment as she forces a controlled exhale.

And then she's surging forward to meet him again, sprinting the first three steps before ducking lower and with her next step, springing into a rising right knee at chest level, only to snap her left leg up next for a second knee strike targeting his chin.

"Ha-HA!"

Following her might prove challenging as unless prevented, she vanishes at the apex of her swift hop into another helix of swirling blossoms before appearing behind him, rushing forward, pivoting to the left with one step to slam her right hand out into an open handed palm strike for the world renown fighter's lower back!

COMBATSYS: Fei Long fails to counter Tenrai Kyaku Chifu EX from Kasumi with Tenshin EX.

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Kasumi           1/-------/=======|=======\=======\1         Fei Long


[FEI LONG]
The surging currents around the Rekkaken crash soundly along the shoreline, wearing ragged edges through the stalwart opposition Fei Long faces. While it may be difficult to track the kunoichi as she rejoins the fray, his intent brown gaze does an admirable job thereof. The Flying Dragon shifts his footing to the opposite side, bounces lithely on his heels, and leaps into Kasumi's path even as she strikes.

Sadly for the Hong Kong star, his trajectory is slightly mis-guaged, his timing off just a half a beat-- and he ends up leaping into the flying knee, coming to an abrupt and painful stop in mid-air, and being launched upwards from that point by the following strikes. His bell soundly rung, the Flying Dragon becomes the Crashing Dragon as Kasumi appears behind him, and slams Fei Long back to the rooftop. He lands in a skid, then a haphazard roll, his momentum only abating in a three-point crouch once both slippered feet anchor him once more.

"A good technique fails us both; tragic." It's just a bit wry-- it's hardly tragic for Kasumi that Fei Long's effort to vault over her shoulders and kick her from behind proved inadequate in turn.

[KASUMI]
Her combination delivered, Kasumi comes to rest with her right hand extended, palm forward, right leg bracing her to keep from toppling forward from her own momentum. Drawing her arm back, her body flows easily back into her ready stance. If not for the external evidence to the contrary, she's managing to move almost as if she hadn't been struck at all yet - as if the stabbing pain in her side and ringing in her ears were minor inconveniences.

But a fighter as seasoned as her opponent would know. She was pushing herself to keep going, aware of the pain but not being crippled by it for now, carried by willpower and adrenaline combined to keep the pressure on.

At his comment, through gasps for breath, she still manages to grin back.

"A learning opportunity for us both then."

She's seen his versatility in action, she knows he is likely able to adapt to the attacks she's thrown his way. Perhaps that is why she keeps needing to shift tactics - with aerial approaches, weaving in low, attacking directly...

The shinobi in blue closes again, though not charging directly at him in a contest of speed and timing, but rather stepping to his right at the last moment, perhaps hoping that he attempts to block or strike, attempting to hook his arm with hers in order to wrench him off balance with her momentum.

If successful, she'll twist to the side, bringing in her free hand to try and drive her palm against the side of his unguarded ribs, then use both her hold on his arm and palm pressed against his side to pull him up and over her shoulder to drive him down against the roof, upper-back first!

COMBATSYS: Kasumi successfully hits Fei Long with Senpu.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////                    ]
Kasumi           1/------=/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2         Fei Long


COMBATSYS: Fei Long issues a challenge!!

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////                    ]
Kasumi           1/------=/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2         Fei Long


[FEI LONG]
In that, they have common ground. Blood drawn, bruises rising, bones objecting. But the soul still burns!

"This is what I have been saying." Fei Long concurs. Such a tournament can only be thus, if one merely pays attention... and retains consciousness for some period of time.

Therein lies the rub. Once more, the Flying Dragon seeks to stay one step ahead of the kunoichi's lightning offense-- and once more, Kasumi finds her purchase instants in front of agile footfall. His balance in her hands, and his side on her palm, air leaves Fei Long's lungs in a violent rush even before he's slammed into the roof.

In that instant, in that jolt, his eyes snap open once more, his mouth GASPS for breath, and with a subtle, swift bend of his legs, the Hong Kong star pushes past the renewed pain, past the ringing in his ears, and kips back to his feet. Back to his feet, and into an instantaneous offense of his own. His left fist seeks Kasumi before she can recover any distance, slamming in at that familiar point on her ribs.

Flame-wreathed fists strike out once, twice, thrice more-- a quartet of conflagration, the True Fist of the Raging Fire is unleashed in the blink of an eye, in a flurry at Kasumi's face and torso, culminating in a spinning, explosive backfist that carries the Flying Dragon's full strength behind it; and of course, a wildly soaring kiai in tandem with the fluid flexing of corded musculature.

COMBATSYS: Fei Long successfully hits Kasumi with Rekkashinken.

[                        \\\\\\  < >  //////////                    ]
Kasumi           1/-----==/=======|>>>>>>>\-------\1         Fei Long


[KASUMI]
His retaliation comes quickly. Of course by the time he's kicked to his feet, she's straightened up from the shoulder toss, only just barely concealing a wince brought on by the sharp pain in her side that the effort invoked. But he is quick enough to keep her from disengaging, the ninja exile already taking a step back, arms coming back up to ready as she resists the temptation to press her hands to her ribs again.

In spite her attempts to guard where she anticipates he'll strike, his momentum breaks clean through the downward sweep of her arm and his flame infused fist strikes true.

The gasp of air forced from her lungs and the stunning pain already damaged ribs send racing through her nerves leaves her to the machinegun fast blows that follow, the stunning strikes to her face sending her reeling while the follow up to her stomach has her kneels buckling.

Greeting teeth, she attempts to recover again, anticipating the backfist to follow based on no small amount of seeing the famous fighter's style in film, but she can't get her guard in the way and the explosive strike sends the shinobi flying backward, shoulders smashing into the thin metal tank rusting next to the machinery on one side of the courtyard, sending an echoing thud of crumpling old steel as it folds inward behind her.

Slumping to the roof, her back against the tank, Kasumi grimaces, perspiration rolling down her temples, the ninja focusing her efforts on pressing her inner aura against the lingering flames that burn along her side - an effort that's helped significantly when a small deluge of water pours from the now broken tank to wash over her. Given who she's fighting, the brief shower proves to be a welcome relief, sharpening her grip on consciousness as she scrambles up to her feet once more.

Once standing, she can better assess her condition. The stabbing pain her side certainly hasn't gotten better, and she has no doubt their last exchange earned her a pending black eye for later. But she's confident she can still move, albeit hampered by the mounting damage. Eyes lock on Fei Long as she considers him for a half second.

Early in her life as an exile, she had fought because she had to. It was a source of income and it served both to keep her skills sharp for her own sake as well as to put food on the table. Now she may no longer need be motivated by financial need, but in absence of that, she had found a new reason to participate in these events - the thrill of the match, the exhilaration of being tested against someone who understands combat as she does, and of course, still an opportunity to learn from other fighters wherever they might be on their personal Champion's Road.

Facing the creator of Hiten-ryu has provided ample opportunities for both. She has been studying his stance, observing his versatility, and recognizing his ruthless cunning. The movies might be able to make even rank novices look like martial arts masters, but she knew beyond any doubt that the Hong Kong native was the real deal.

And that knowledge fueled her to push even harder, to tap into that spirit of combat, to fuel her tenacious aggression even further.

She comes straight at him again - but this time she moves with the speed of a fired bullet, kicking off from her starting position with such fierce speed that there is an audible rush of air as it sweeps in to fill the void left behind.

She leads with her left elbow for his sternum - no trickery, no feinting, no attempts to soften his guard with another salvo first - relying instead on sure, unbridled speed. But if she does get in that close, if she does manage to strike true, her torso pivoting to the right in the process, her right hand seeking to secure a grip on his left, her body bending at the waist in an attempt to instantly flip him over her shoulder in a classic Seoi Nage only to release him into an earlier toss instead of following through to slam him against the rooftop arena.

Only if successful would she step into a fierce, double palm press, both arms slamming out, heels of her hands attempting to drive into her potentially airborne opponent, her full body leaning into the strike with all she has.

"HAAAH!"

COMBATSYS: Fei Long blocks Kasumi's Renzuki Toki Hoshin EX.

[                       \\\\\\\  < >  ///////                       ]
Kasumi           0/-------/----===|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2         Fei Long


[FEI LONG]
Even before his star began to ascend in the West, even before he become one of the premiere sweet hearts of Hong Kong cinema, Fei Long realized a simple truth: to evolve his art, to find the true limits of his own strength and will, he would have to fight.

By the standards of the World Warrior, the Flying Dragon is an underdog-- perhaps they both are, despite Kasumi's turn among the Kings of Fighters. That, however, stands as the entire -point- for the Hiten-ryu progenitor's presence here. To fight this sort of fight. To push beyond previous limits. To test and hone his techniques against those of world class skill; not in the honed choreography of a master of cinematography, but in the chaotic, graceful, brutal dance of improvised combat.

Kasumi launches in like an elbow-led warhead, and the explosion crashes against a taut forearm, braced by the opposite palm and its equally tensed limb. The hair and garments of every nearby onlooker rush outwards, the layer of dust on the rooftop scatters abruptly outwards, and the Exile is left eye to eye with the Flying Dragon. It's not just his arms that are flexing-- it's his whole being. Suffused with energy. Consumed by purpose.

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!--" Once more, no instant is lost in reprisal, in answering the rushing currents she brings to bear even before the sundered tank with a crashing wave of his own. At first, the one-two punch is familiar-- a stunning body blow, a dazing cross to the head. It's in the sudden, blurring flurry of body blows that both fists would follow through with that the remix comes.

A flaring inferno of one-inch intensity lashing countless times before flowing into a powerful, launching uppercut; the eruption of fire and impact would ideally send Kasumi skyward to be intercepted by a perfectly poised, flame-wreathed flying kick-- one with potential to launch her clear of their rooftop arena entirely. "WAAAAACHAAA~!"

COMBATSYS: Kasumi instinctively dodges Fei Long's Rekkashingeki.

[                       \\\\\\\  < >  ///////                       ]
Kasumi           0/-------/---====|>>>>>>>\>>-----\1         Fei Long


[KASUMI]
Once again, they collide, testing their technique, speed, and strength against one another. Just as Kasumi dug deep to fight through the pain, so too does Fei Long draw upon his years of dedicated training to perform what might seem to most an impossible feat. The world comes to rest in the aftermath, the shinobi's elbow pressed against the martial artist's forearm, the two locked eye to eye, an opportunity to witness up close the fire that burns within. The nature of his defense is a marvel to behold, but now is hardly the time to appreciate such a display of physical mastery. She knows the counter attack will come in an instant as it has before.

But this time she realizes the truth of it - that the variations of punch strings he's been using on her are no haphazardly exercised routine. These are punches he has done not just hundreds but thousands of times. They are a part of him, practiced, iterated on, honed to perfection. And he can execute them without thinking.

So how could she imagine defending against them by reactive thought? This time, having learned from the painful aches, swelling bruises, and lingering scorch marks, she relies on something else than active focus to defend herself. She taps into that difference that exists in individuals like the talented man she faces and herself - prodigies, people who at a very young age seem to have an instinctual knowledge of combat, as if it lived in their DNA and was etched on their soul.

It is to that gift that she turns now, instead of trying to watch for the blow. He swings and she weaves just out of reach, his body blow grazing just shy of the sash wrapped around her abdomen. He swings higher and she slips under it. He issues a violent flurry of strikes and she matches him, her right arm moving to intercept with deflecting swings as she steps backward in a flawless mirror of his aggression, all the while keeping her eyes locked on his.

There is no need for the flying kick he had intended for her - nor in fact, any time, as the Mugen Tenshin prodigy snaps her hands out, trying to catch the impossibly fast forearm of the Hiten-ryu master. If she secures a hold, she leaps up and over him, attempting to yank his arm up along with her so that she can use it as a fulcrum around which to spin herself, dropping down behind him and kicking his legs out from under him!

COMBATSYS: Fei Long interrupts Momiji Otoshi from Kasumi with Shien Renkyaku EX.

[                             \  <
Kasumi           0/-------/-======|


COMBATSYS: Fei Long can no longer fight.

[                             \  <
Kasumi           0/-------/-======|


[FEI LONG]
No need for the flying kick?!? No TIME for the FLYING KICK?!!!? Fei Long begs to differ, Kasumi. Even as she weaves ahead of each of the flurry of punches, out of the way of the onslaught meant to wind her with bout-ending finality, the Flying Dragon is like the water.

The currents shift, the kunoichi seizes the offensive, and-- for just a moment-- it looks like the Hong Kong star is finished. His arm is wrenched high, his legs are kicked harshly-- but he drops willingly. Too readily. He flows with the strike, he takes an opportune knee, he //launches// himself right up and into Kasumi even as the stroke lands.

Too easily thrown, the momentum the action star gathered is not fully surrendered-- and now he finishes the former technique, blasting the Kunoichi Princess upwards on what seems like an endless flare of furious fire forming the forefront of that iconic, classicly executed flying kick. Hiten-ryu is, not just shamelessly but PROUDLY, composed of a myriad of traditional jutsus and their reprises, after all. "KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"

In a sheath of flaming chi, Fei Long ascends in that punishing inferno, launching Kasumi clear even as he drops to a knee once more. Much more harshly. Crashing with stone-cracking velocity back to the roof, and falling forward to one palm as his breath comes raggedly. He was, in fact, finished when it looked like he was; but also, very much not. It is a paradox for the ages, to be retold by the sages, and committed to the pages.

[KASUMI]
Landing on the other side, kicking his feet out from under him, the combination clearly designed to leave the Hong Kong Star vulnerable long enough for the kunoichi to land a finishing blow. Even as he starts to drop, her right arm is lifting over head, fingers extended for a fierce chop to his side - a chop that never comes as an inferno erupts around her and Fei Long launches himself into her foot first.

The Kick of Legend carries the lighter fighter upward with ease, his foot dug into her stomach, the young woman folded over the kick as, per her blurring vision, the rooftop descends away from her.

She rises up past the apex of her opponent's ascent, falling back from the sky in a fair less controlled manner, landing on yielding sheet metal to leave another dent for the place to remember her by. Vision fading, she rolls onto her side, determined to contend with her opponent one more time. Teeth grit, she pushes down, even managing to get her feet under her long enough to stand, eyes unfocused, unable to see beyond a few feet in front of her as she staggers forward one step. Scorch marks on her arms, legs, and outfit leave ample evidence of her encounter with the flame weaver, but still she presses on, taking another step.

But it's too much and she drops, falling to her knees, arms limp at her sides, then slumping over to one side, catching herself against the roof with the palm of her hands as she gasps for breath. With neither fighter having the capacity to continue, the outcome is left to the World Warrior officials to call.

But either way, the Mugen Tenshin exile knew that she had learned a lot in her encounter with the celebrity fighter and could enjoy his cinematic appearances with a newfound appreciation and respect. Lifting her head briefly, she casts him an exhausted, brief grin.

COMBATSYS: Kasumi takes no action.


COMBATSYS: Kasumi can no longer fight.

Log created on 20:17:50 09/03/2023 by Kasumi, and last modified on 22:03:43 09/16/2023.