Description: Way too early in the morning, Edge accosts a bleary-eyed Real American doctor and gets dubbed a nancy boy. Our favourite juvenile delinquent gets all up in his face, the result being lots of blood and finally... SKINNY BOY GETS HIT BY TRAIN OMG!
Morning. It's definately morning. That's something that's pretty easy to tell. However, it's also early enough so that Tran's brain is taxed enough to be struggling with that very concept. The general flow of thought goes like this: It's early. But if I don't get up early, how can it be early? Therefore, it's not early. But it's early. And this pretty much keeps looping around, using up all available thinking power.
Which might explain why, exactly, Tran is here today. Walking along a muddy riverbed directly behind a school famous for thugs. It's not the safest thing to be doing, no, but that just hasn't occured to Tran. He's not even exactly sure where he is, nor is he thinking about why he's not sure. No, he's just trying to wrap his mind around the unanswerable dillema, walking along staring into space.
Well, the early bird gets the worm, right? Which would explain exactly why the Real American Doctor is traipsing around a muddy riverbed, though it fails to explain why he isn't grubbing around on his hands and knees and attempting to suck little pink organisms from the soil. This must be rectified!
Or... maybe not, because even Gedo punks aren't that despicably low. Not without very good reason or the sight of a swanky Justice High uniform. Regardless, this /is/ their stamping ground and hallowed hall of fightage when they happen to be anywhere near their beloved insitution, which at this hour is an unlikely occurrence but not /totally/ unheard of. On this occasion, Tran has apparently failed to miss - lost in his ponderance - the flash of purple clothing lingering at the edge of his sight, or the flash of steel as this brightly clad figure flickers a small switchblade between the fingers of one hand.
Edge has, however, noticed Dr. Tran; and he's already grinning from ear to ear, rocking back and forth a little on the old tyre currently being used as a perch by the delinquent. Initially aggravated at being out so early - gang business or not - Edge has perked up considerably now he sees a chance for a little fun. "Oi, shortround!"
Hmph. Young people have no respect.
Damned whippersnappers. It seems like everyone younger than Dr. Tran is just a damned punkass, nowadays! That's surely what Tran would be thinking if actually realized Edge was talking to him. Instead, he has a sudden kneejerk, 'the world conveniently revolves around me' sort of moment that snaps him out of his stupor. "Yeah, loser! Stop right there!"
Dr. Tran stands there for a moment, blinking, slowly becoming aware of the last few minutes. And then he blushes very, very faintly, and then he swiftly does his best to cover it up by pointing angrily at Edge. "Uh...yeah, I'm talking to you! What's with all that pink, anyway? Are you a fancy boy or something?" Smoothness incarnate, to be sure.
Edge lounges on his tyre expecting one of two reactions to his verbal challenge; either a fearful excuse and a quick shuffle away, which would be borderline amusing, or an angry riposte and a chance to make the trespasser pay for his actions. Because walking in a public place is illegal nowadays, seriously. What the youth doesn't expect is to watch Tran apparently joining in the jibe on himself, and this causes Edge to blink once, then break out into a slightly crazed giggle. This might be the best thing to happen all morning!
Kicking up off his rubber seat, which stays upright after a couple of back-and-forth wobbles, he begins to swagger over toward the older man, hands thrust deep into his pockets and lips parting to follow up on his jibe now the giggling has subsided. He pauses though, grinding to a halt and listening in surprise as the confused doctor starts to rip on... hoo boy... his outfit. Cue a glance down at the ensemble and then a gaze of excited madness to focus on Tran as Edge looks back up. "Screw. you." He hisses, something between a grin and a snarl manifesting on his lips.
"Maybe you didn't hear, little man, but this is /my/ territory and you're pissing all over it with your prescence. Heh!" If it was a snarl before, well.. it's now the very reverse, though the madness in the eyes is no less present, as Yamada extends a hand bearing a flash of steel and points a sharp tip toward the object of his attention. "I'll make you eat those words unless you cough up a toll, right now. Empty yer pockets, pops."
It would probably be fair to say at this point that Dr. Tran is playing fast and loose by the seat of his pants. A bead of sweat falls down the side of his head, feebly trying to cool down the sheer heat being produced by his brain struggling to fully catch up and gain control of the situation. After a long moment of struggle, it decides that Tran can deal with this situation himself, and that it's not really required at all.
This leads to this wonderful branch of thought: I, being invincible, can easily take on any high school student by virtue of being older than them. "I don't swing that way, although rest assured, lad, there's nothing wrong with the life choices you've made. Being accepting of the quirks and follies of others is just one part of the awesome American Way!"
Shifting one leg back a bit into a more dramatic position, Dr. Tran grins and reaches into a pocket of his coat, only to momentarily pull forth naught but a pair of dark sunglasses. He slips them on, and then points in Eiji's direction except up and to the right a little, all for the purpose of looking badass. And then he goes on to say, "The only thing you'll find in my pockets...is a sound thrashing for daring to try to rob an innocent man like myself!"
"H-Hey!!" The badass, threatening Edge is suddenly thrown right off track as the short man - who to be fair, should be cowering on the ground right now while the youth goes through his wallet - carries right on with his insulting behaviour. "What are you, hitting on me? I don't buy into no American Way, asshole..." He protests, frown darkening his brow and retreating a step in uncertainty, knife-bearing hand thrust back into his pocket. Some of his subordinates have warned him about tackling drug-addled gaijin and now he's finding out exactly why, momentarily lost in confusion as he watches Tran go through his Awesome Motions of Awesome.
When it's apparently over, the man now clad in his action hero shades and all ready to be smacked down, Edge finally seems to gain back his swagger, a smirk lashing up one side of his lips. Cricking his neck to one side slowly, he sinks deeper into a habitual slouch - his own variation of a 'dramatic fighting stance' apparently. "Tch. You asked for it. I'll show you the hard way that is /Japan/, and we don't take none of your crap!" But we do take your hard-earned cash.
COMBATSYS: Edge has started a fight here.
COMBATSYS: Tran has joined the fight here.
Of course, habitually acting like a moron has its uses, such as throwing other people off guard in any conversation. And if sometimes you aren't actually acting, so much the better! It keeps them guessing, and that's what the whole thing is all about. Not that Tran would ever resort to such trickery on a daily basis, no. Why, that is CLEARLY leagues above anything a MORON like him could think of! o/~
So in essence, what is NOT Tran's plan seems to have worked, at least a little. Now that the threat of violence is becoming a bit more real, and Tran's had a bit more time to think, well, he'll just have to go into action. And so he starts posing and talking at the same time. First, he sweeps his upward pointing finger slowly to the left. "Oh, you mean the LOADS of cash I make on a regular basis as both a doctor and a highly successful fighter? The cash I'm practically rolling around in my every waking moment? The hundred dollar bills I specifically import from America for the sole purpose of burning to light even more expensive cigars?" He swiftly brings his hand down to his hip, light gleaming off his shades and his teeth, the latter exposed in a sparkly white grin.
"Sorry. Don't have a cent on me." Mind, this isn't exactly what he's doing - the nice part about having super-dark shades is that you can look wherever you want, and generally nobody else notices. And when you're not a half-bad fighter, you know exactly the right things to look for, too.
COMBATSYS: Tran focuses on his next action.
Edge remains in his seemingly casual slump during the brief lull for some showboating - not that there's any crowd here this early, and not that the purple punk himself gives a flying damn about who has how much money. Actually, he's all about the fighting and the pain, but hard currency seems to make a fantastic excuse to partake in - and dole out - both of these. Now normally? Edge wouldn't stand around watching and waiting whilst his opponent messes around like this, he'd be far more inclined to actually do something useful like kick them in the groin or stab them in the back. Which is why it comes as some surprise, that he simply stands there smirking, until Tran is finished gleaming and proclaiming his lack of funds.
"Hehehe," Edge snickers briefly, "Don't know, don't wanna know, don't give a damn. Not every toll is made of money, old man." Hands shifting around in his pockets as he speaks, the boy pauses only to focus on those shaded eyes opposite him before suddenly hurling his hands forth at a surprising speed, for someone so seemingly lethargic. "TIME TO PAY!!" Now, not everybody can comprehend the sheer physics behind what attacks next, but rest assured; /it does make sense/. The assault begins in a bright clarion call of gleaming metal, a light clink sounding an sunlight catching solid steel, and an instant later Tran suddenly has something rather lethal to deal with...
Knives, switchblades, daggers, sharpened hunks of scrap metal, it all comes whiplashing out from whatever hidden spacial pockets Eiji Yamada has about his person, to be unleashed from his hands in a deadly storm of biting pain. The range is point blank and so the sound Edge makes while watching the effects of his attack won't go unnoticed over the thunderous whooshing made by a hundred flying projectiles. "Ehehehe-ahhahahahah!"
COMBATSYS: Tran fails to reflect Strike Out from Edge with Operation - Dr. Tran.
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Tran 0/-------/--=====|-------\-------\0 Edge
Tragically, it seems Dr. Tran's ploy has failed. Instead of Edge thinking he's crazy, which would also clearly result in Edge leaving him alone because it's not nice to beat up on crazies...well, instead, Edge is throwing a wave of sharp at him. Now, Tran was expecting something - maybe a bit of sharp, maybe a fancy bit of chi work, whatever. His created response is woefully inadequate. It's just a bit of steam pressurized into a tiny mirror, and to be honest Tran doesn't even manage to get it fully formed before he's being turned into a pincushion.
Tran goes down immediately, his chest barely visible for all of the pointy metal things sticking out of it. There's a fair amount of blood, too, but Tran's had worse. It just...took a bit out of him, that's all. Struggling up to a knee, he's not quite ready to go back on the offensive, here. "That one...that one's a freebie, kid...hoooo." He's not sounding very convincing.
"AHAHAHAHA! ...ha...ha..." Edge calms down slowly after his hail of weapons subsides, lowering his hands and taking in a deep breath, mouth set in a psychopathic grin of pleasure. When he has his breath back, the delinquent slowly licks his lips before taking a step back, regarding Tran with wild eyes. "A freebie?! Nothing comes free in this world! Observe!" Giggling once more, apparently he /really/ gets off on causing huge amounts of pain, the Gedo punk shoves one hand back into his pocket and strolls forward to close the distance with his opponent.
"See, this?" Edge asks with a mockingly amiable tone, lifting his other hand in a fist, "This.. this is my fist. Exhibit B..." That hand slinks back down to its nice warm pocket, the other produced a moment later as the brightly clad gangster leans down face-to-face with our heroic doctor. A set of metal knuckles glint before Tran's view. "This one's new and improved. SYAAA!" With this warcry, he rears back before SLAMMING his 'improved' fist forward with the full weight of his unimpressive one hundred and thirty five pound fram.
On straightening, he giggles a little before adding, "Cost me five of your American dollars!"
COMBATSYS: Edge successfully hits Tran with Fierce Punch.
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Tran 1/-------/=======|-------\-------\0 Edge
Looking back on things, you can always tell when you've done something stupid. That one moment where, if you could have done anything differently, you can see with clarity what that thing should have been. Occassionally, you can even see what you should have done differently even as you're doing it, and somehow be totally powerless to stop yourself.
When Edge pulls out his shiny knuckles...Tran leans in to get a closer look. He lends them a critical look for a precious few seconds, and then gets popped right in the eye. He goes down again, sunglasses shattered into like a billion tiny pieces. Covered in mud and blood and sharp and coat (now a very dirty, not-white one, sadly), Dr. Tran finds himself getting sort of pissed. His image...is being dragged through the dirt! And this...this is unacceptable.
Rising up to his feet again, Dr. Tran starts to talk about this. "You...the shades...I'll have you know that-" He cuts off here and just /flings/ several sharp things of his own at Edge, point blank; they look like boomerangs, except they were just created from nowhere out of steam, and whoosh! They're zooming at the Gedo thug!
COMBATSYS: Edge overcomes Real American Hero Cutter from Tran with Large Thrown Object.
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Tran 1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Edge
"Lemme guess-" Edge is already jubilantly offering a retort when he finds himself on the receiving end of a collection of... what? Steamsiles? Whoosh seems to be about right, but then so does the phrase 'get the hell out of Dodge' and so this is precisely what the Gedo punk does, throwing himself backward with a hard expulsion of breath and an extension of massive effort. Even when you're a relative lightweight, getting away from stuff that fast, that quickly, really isn't all that easy. Jeez.
"Like I was saying!" He spits out, narrowed eyes focusing upon the incoming energy boomerangs as his arms grasp for something standing upright upon the floor. With a grunt of exertion he hefts the object directly /through/ the steamy projectiles, dissipating them with sharp hisses and no small amount of frazzled plastic. But tyres are made to last, and the old piece of automobile goes sailing in toward Tran in all its black rubbery goodness.
"They cost /ten/ dollars, right?!"
COMBATSYS: Tran reflects Large Thrown Object from Edge with Dr. Tran Doles Out the Harshness.
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Tran 1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Edge
Behold, the ultimate key to making a comeback: a bitingly witty retort. "That's still at least nine dollars more than those shiny knuckles you're so proud of are worth!" Of course, mere words won't bounce a tire back at Edge. That's what the geyser is for.
Yes, a geyser, you read correctly. Because where before there was only mud, now there is a sizable pillar of steam with flecks of mud in it, smacking into the tire with enough force to send it hurtling back at Edge. Tran lets it dissipate afterward, and then stands, breathing a bit heavily, to give a thumbs up and another grin. "I hope you're a better consumer than you are a fighter, for your sake, kid."
COMBATSYS: Edge overcomes Reflected Large Thrown Object from Tran with Thrown Object.
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Tran 1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Edge
Behold the power of snappy chattery during fights! It certainly does the job here, though that impressive geyser of steam helps out to an extent... and it actually does cause Edge to crack an honestly impressed smirk. He never would have pegged his prey as somebody with any talent, let alone the kind that can prolong a battle past the horrific injuries already inflicted. "You're not bad," the delinquent comments, the tone of his voice rather less than complimentary by normal standards - but the feeling is there.
Pausing to hurl himself forward at the incoming projectile, Gedo's finest knife fighter tucks his skinny frame in tightly, enough that he sails through the 'o' shaped hole at the tyre's centre to land in a skidding crouch on the other side. "Now CONSUME THIS!" Hand already instinctively furnishing itself with a slender blade, Yamada lunges forward out of his crouch, stumbling a couple of steps with the force of his throw as he hucks the weapon toward Tran's stomach.
COMBATSYS: Tran endures Edge's Thrown Object.
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Tran 1/------=/=======|=------\-------\0 Edge
Well, hell, Tran's entire torso is already peppered with assorted sharp things. How bad could one more be? The answer: sort of painful, but not too bad. Leaping forward at Edge, Tran does something...well, it's a bit on the strange side, to be honest. He rips his entire shirt off, shrugging its tattered remains and the coat he was wearing off onto the ground, taking most of the knives he was poked with them. And then that knife comes zipping in, right into his stomach. He charges on, regardless.
"Consumed and devoured, punkass!" With that said, he actually yanks the knife out of his own stomach and then tries to manually stab Edge with it more or less the same spot - right there, in the gut. That's /style/, people.
COMBATSYS: Tran successfully hits Edge with Random Weapon.
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Tran 1/-----==/=======|====---\-------\0 Edge
"Crazy bastard," Edge murmurs as he watches Tran go all manly and butch on the incoming blade, shaking his head in a brief moment of admiration. He almost feels sorry for assuming this guy was just another loser ready to be intimidated into submission... wait. No, he doesn't. But he might. If he had better morals. As it is, he grins massively and rises to his feet, spreading his arms wide for the incoming man - seemingly about to take it full on, until the last moment when he lowers his arms and goes to take a step back. Unfortunately for his stylish outfit, this doesn't exactly work. Tran plows on and gets him dead in the gut.
"GAH!" Mouth curling downward in a displeased snarl, the punk buckles around the introduction of his own blade, feeling blood burst forth in a torrent and only just forcing himself to stay focused. Given the nature of that focus, this is no difficult feat, and a moment later he's cackling merrily over the blood welling up in his throat. The sound is a little wet, and his lips are flecked with crimson in no time at all, but Edge seems not to care; staring right at his opponent as he laughs. "AHAHAHAHAHAHA! Heh!"
Stopping this mad cackle rather abruptly, Yamada reaches out with one hand to grip Tran by the back of his neck, giving a brutal yank to drag him in close. Should this succeed, the crazy gangster hammers his forehead forward for a /brutal/ headbutt, following up with two more straight to the bridge of the nose, before lifting his other arm to shove the good doctor away with equal force. "SCREW YOU!"
COMBATSYS: Edge successfully hits Tran with Strong Throw.
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Tran 1/=======/=======|=====--\-------\0 Edge
Well, Edge better be prepared, because this crazy bastard is about to get crazier! Well, not really. He actually does the sane, rational thing, and tries to get the hell out of Edge's way. It...well, it doesn't work out that well, to be honest. When Edge charges, Tran starts backpedaling, but maybe the mud is too slippery or he just plain underestimated the kid's speed. The result? WHAM WHAM WHAM, right in the face. It's a good thing Tran's shades had already been busted up, because that would also do the trick right there.
Flying back into the mud after the last headbutt, Dr. Tran skids for a few feet, before leaping up to a standing position in a show of vigor! Charging forward with an equally crazy, angry scream, wholly unintelligible, the doctor ducks down and skids toward Edge through the mud this time, steam welling around a single fist, and then WHOOSH! A massive, downright /explosive/ uppercut. It's not very well aimed, though, because even though he's screaming and skidding and totally being barechested and awesome, Tran is about to go night night this fine morning. Which he does, right after the uppercut goes through, hit or miss or whatever.attack edge=here comes dr. tran
COMBATSYS: Tran can no longer fight.
COMBATSYS: Edge fails to interrupt Here Comes Dr. Tran! from Tran with Low Blow.
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Edge 1/-----==/=======|
After tossing Tran back onto the filthy ground, Edge takes a moment to tend to the gaping wound in his stomach, reaching down with both hands to rip the blade out. It causes him to cringe deeply, and prompts a trickle of blood from the side of his mouth - something the juvenile delinquent deals with by hawking and spitting out a huge wad of crimson saliva to one side. Almost surprising he didn't do that toward his opponent, but apparently he's not a /complete/ bastard... or not at this specific moment. Looking up at the charging doctor, he gets an altogether different idea, smirking widely as he drops to one knee.
"Ever want kids, oyaji?" He croons, clenching a fist behind him and preparing to swing it forward hard and fast into the groin currently rushing forth - such a viable target. Such a great way of showing this foreigner who rules the streets around here. However.. as he strikes, so does Tran, and the blast of energy knocks the youth back right before the fist scrapes up his ribcage to connect harshly with his chin.
"RRRRAAAAGH!" Screaming defiance through the pain, the Gedo enforcer is sent careering in a high arc, spiralling back down to the ground with limbs flailing and curses pouring forth from his lips. These continue in force once he lands with a thumping squelch, mud spattering his favourite clothes, and he spends a good few moments punching in every direction and screaming expletives. Finally, he spits another wad of blood to the earth and pushes himself upright, snarling toward wherever Tran has landed.
"What the /hell/ was that?! I do my own washing, you asshole!!" Growling in frustration, he starts to yank at the creases in his outfit, occasionally pausing to rub in a patch of mud in vain hope of removing it entirely. A happy customer, Edge is not... but he'll be fine once he can get a change of clothes. Really.
...okay, okay. THAT FRIGGING HURT OW.
COMBATSYS: Edge has ended the fight here.
Log created by Edge, and last modified on 11:18:02 11/16/2005.