Description: You may be able to catch a fly with your chopsticks, but will it matter in the end? ... Well... maybe. (Winners: Oro and LaRusso)
In the city of Hong Kong, in the largest marketplace in the city, a crowd gathers. Around the edges of the open street some people still haggle over wares, but the vast majority of the crowd is here for another purpose; one of the current world tournament fights is about to begin. Betting is frantic, with bookies raking in money by the truckloads. At first glance, it's actually not an easy call. One side of the fight looks like a couple of ordinary street thugs, but the other side...
The old man reaches into his loincloth with his single arm, scratching absently. "Eehhh, Cricket. Think you're ready for this fight?" Oro sits at one edge of the space cleared for the fight, looking more concerned with whatever's itching him than with the upcoming tag team battle. The wrinkled old man isn't drawing good odds from the bookies. The way things look, this fight will be over in a flash.
Hong Kong, eh? Axl isn't exactly 'at home' here, but it suits him to be in an urban landscape as opposed to the low-tech reaches of urban China. Axl's a city boy, through and through.
Slicking back his hair, he glances across the cleared stretch of marketplace to his opponents. "Hmph. Should be a cakewalk." He glances over to his progeny, with a confident smirk. "You ready for this?"
"'eah, boss," Tiny rumbles.
Now, one of the universal laws of reality states: any man named 'Tiny' must -not- be tiny at all. According to traditional dramatic irony, he's gotta be an immense wall of heavily built muscle. And also rather lacking in the brains category.
Of course, this all is -hideously- unfair. Why can't Tiny be a man of reasonable stature and rarified intellect? Why must he be cursed to such a terrible typecast fate?
Dunno.
But that's how it is. Mind, it wouldn't be as -fun- the other way.
The man called 'Tiny' cracks his knuckles, the pops rippling like gunshots from his ham-like fists. He's a giant of a man, approaching eight feet in height and built like a battleship, he towers over his partner - and rises way above the crowd. Pulling his arms apart, Tiny stretches - his t-shirt threatening wardrobe malfunction from the strain. There's a large Mad Gear logo smeared in lurid green over his chest, with a pair of beat-up jeans and work boots completing his outfit.
Tiny smiles. It's not a nice expression - his dusky features contort into a hideously scarred grimace, one that shows far too many teeth. That aren't exactly pearly white.
"'m 'ing ready."
A year ago, young Daniel LaRusso would never have believed he would be anything but another normal chump on the streets of New Jersey. A forced uprooting brought on by his mother's change in career carried with it a depressed turn for the boy, but little did he know...
That something big was about to occur.
Right now he's not entirely sure he wants it to. Standing slightly awkwardly near his newfound master, he rubs the back of his neck nervously, casting a long look up and down the massive punk who stands across the square. Over in a flash? He'd swear it should end up more of a messy smear. "Uh... Master Oro, I'm really not sure about this... have you seen how big that guy is?!" A note of rising panic in his voice, Daniel spins around to face the old man, indicating 'Tiny' with a wave of his free hand.
"There's no /way/ we can do this. Let's go home." Taking a step forward, there's a note of hope now.. that maybe he really can get out of this... but along with that comes an uncertainty in his gaze, a flicker that something deep inside doesn't agree with his words. Young LaRusso is in quite the quandary.
/This/ is the kid the legendary sennin took as a pupil? All bets are off.
COMBATSYS: LaRusso has started a fight here on the left meter side.
COMBATSYS: Tiny has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
COMBATSYS: Axl has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
Oro studies his finger critically, inspecting the findings from his mining operation within his cloth. He glances up as LaRusso makes his final plea, then wipes his hand off on the ground. "Consider this an advanced lesson." He leans over, squinting at Tiny across the way before flipping a hand dismissvely. "Besides, he doesn't look so tough. Size matters not as much as you'd think." The old man stabs a finger toward LaRusso. "-You- just remember what I've been teaching you. If you can do that, this shouldn't be a problem." Oro covers his mouth as he yawns. "Now get in there before I throw you in there."
COMBATSYS: Oro has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
The greasy gangster type buffs his nails against his shirt, glancing over at the old geezer and the New Jersey kid. He doesn't think the -kid- will be much of a problem, especially not with the giant hulk of a partner facing him, but there's some trepidation on his part.
Namely... "Don't forget what we talked about yesterday, kid."
Glancing away for a moment, he finds himself a convenient oil barrel, hopping up onto it lazily. Upon noting that Tiny still seems to be waiting for a signal, he adds with a sweeping hand gesture, "Well, go on then... if you screw up I'll be right here." A prideful smirk passes, as he turns his attention to his foes. "Cakewalk," he repeats.
"Yeah, boss, wit' all due respect," Tiny rumbles, casting a baleful eye at Axl, "shut yer 'ing hole."
The rather inappropriately-named 'Tiny' stomps forward into the open space cleared in the centre of the market street, his heavy boot soles pounding against the cobblestones. He's not -really- massive enough to make the ground shake with every step...but watching him move, it's hard to tell.
Tiny slams his fists together, an impact probably heard all the way over on the Chinese mainland. Muscles ripple beneath his tightly-stretched t-shirt, shifting like continental plates. The bald-headed bruiser snarls at LaRusso from across the battlefield, just -waiting- for the signal to begin the hurting.
"Yer ready t'die, geek?"
LaRusso recoils slightly when Oro's finger stabs toward him, leaning back and fixing his eccentric teacher with a somewhat exasperated stare. He doesn't look entirely convinced, but that inner resolve does seem to take control - he looks further from bolting, and nods along a few times, heaving a sigh. "Remember what you taught me, right, I know." Glancing down, he lifts a hand and fixes his attention upon it, flexing his fingers thoughtfully. "Alright. I'll give it a shot."
Lifting his gaze, Daniel bows swiftly from the waist, offering this gesture first to his sensei, and then turns to move out onto the arena proper. Walking stiffly and swallowing nervously, he arrives at the halfway point in time to hear Axl's last comment to his partner. 'Cakewalk'. A frown is instantly directed toward the comparatively slim gangster, detracting from the honourable bow he sends toward Tiny at the same time. Perhaps it won't be as easy as the greaseball thinks, as he seems to have struck a chord.
Ready to die? No. He's ready to fight. Drawing back into his own stance - right hand curled tight against his stomach, and left lifted before him with fingers curled inward - LaRusso responds to his opponent quite simply as he begins to advance. "Not today."
The announcer calls a start and with those words hanging in the air, Oro's student starts forward at a cautious pace, almost springing off his heels with gathered tension as he makes an approach. Halfway between a determined warrior and a frightened rabbit, he pauses to briefly circle the behemoth and then darts in, right hand lifting, forming to a fist and shaking before he slams it forward in a simple strike to the gut. An expulsion of breath is his kiai, and he moves to get away almost instantly... but the fails to do himself credit. There's speed to the blow and a good instinct to the motions.
COMBATSYS: LaRusso successfully hits Tiny with Medium Punch.
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LaRusso 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Axl
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////////// ]
Oro 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Tiny
"And remember!" Oro shouts. "None of this 'no hitting below the belt' crap! If you can get a shot at his goonies, take it!"
... Oddly enough, that's what Axl had told Tiny yesterday. Not that he cares after that bit of snark. Maybe he =won't= jump in after all.
Well. At least -that- punch was to the gut, instead of threatening Tiny's manhood. 'course, being nailed on the first move like that is enough of an affront to the big man's ego. LaRusso's strike smashes into Tiny's abdomen...and the behemoth stumbles, muscles recoiling as he absorbs the blow.
Tiny lets out a gutteral bellow, his face morphing into a mask of bloodshot rage and fury. Just another example of how it's difficult to tell whether he's man or beast.
"THAT'S IT," he roars, "YER GOIN' -DOWN-!"
Pity his taunts aren't very original. But we can't all be Oro.
Screaming bloody murder, Tiny rushes forward, bearing down on LaRusso even as he tries to hop away. Swinging one sledgehammer fist.
COMBATSYS: LaRusso fails to counter Strong Punch from Tiny with Flycatcher.
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LaRusso 0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0 Axl
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////////// ]
Oro 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Tiny
[OOC] LaRusso unf
LaRusso is already away by the time his opponent charges in - but he makes the crucial mistake of stopping there, not pushing his retreat to make an evasion but instead calming himself quite visibly. That enraged scream brings with it a fresh focus to the boy, his dark eyes narrowing and brow creasing. He raises his previously striking arm, fingers flexing against the air as they part and then aim to come down upon Tiny's massive knuckles. "Not today, ma-ngh!"
Cut off abruptly as he steps in and starts to bring his left hand forward in another quick strike, the offending fist /plows/ through his scrabbling fingertips to slam into his cheek hard - almost spinning the scrawny kid straight off his feet. But he at least has the composure to avoid falling, instead falling back with a pained expression and a heaving chest as he struggles not to lose too much momentum to his foe.
"Gotta remember," he hisses to himself, fixing wide eyes on the huge gangster and raising his guard once more, "Strength isn't down there.. it's up here... it's up here..." Which might be a more convincing argument if he hadn't just been suckered into the heaviest blow he's ever taken in his life.
"Up there, geek?"
Tiny flashes a malicious grin, as he advances on the struggling boy, reaching one massive hand towards LaRusso's head. He attempts to close fat sausage-like fingers round the boy's skull, in a grip like a steel vice...before simply -twisting-, trying to slam Oro's protege into the ground. Face-first.
Mind over matter, huh? Let's see if that works when your grey matter's smeared across the street.
COMBATSYS: LaRusso blocks Tiny's Faceplanter.
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LaRusso 0/-------/--=====|-------\-------\0 Axl
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Oro 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Tiny
Still in the process of pulling himself together, and thrown off by Tiny's scathing rhetoric, Daniel is caught off guard enough by that clamping grip - though he does make a token attempt to duck aside, trying just a fraction too late to make any real difference. Cringing as he's cruelly ripped from his feet, there is little he can do but try and at least guess what's about to happen.
As luck would have it, he guesses correctly.
"Right!" The word flies as his arms do the same, palms tensing up and slamming against the hard ground with a harsh impact. It hurts, and forces the boy to grit his teeth as an explosion of light goes off behind his vision, but he at least manages to take the worst and cut into a roll once he's released, rising to his feet and immediately moving in toward the titan with his stance already back in place. His left hand begins to quiver not with nervous tension, but with a far more useful intensity, and the next is breathlessly delivered as LaRusso gathers his strength. "It's not what you are, it's not how big you are - it's how you use it! Haaa-"
"SEIYA!" Taking a single step forward to get within range of his opponent, the unassuming boy brings his palm around with that sharp kiai, looking to all but embed his hand directly into that gigantic ribcage. It could hurt him as much as it hurts the brute... or it could just go all the way...
All he has to do, is believe.
COMBATSYS: Tiny endures LaRusso's Ice Crusher.
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LaRusso 0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0 Axl
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Oro 0/-------/-------|=====--\-------\0 Tiny
A thunderous CRACK echoes round the market square, rising above the chatter of the crowd. LaRusso's palm crashes into Tiny's ribs, shaking the larger man, sending a shockwave through his gargantuan frame. But it doesn't fell him. He remains on his feet, glowering down at the boy with a dark expression. Brows knotting together, thick lips pulling into a nasty smirk.
"Really, geek? Well, yer can take yer mystic Jap shite..."
He raises a leg, -pistoning- a knee toward LaRusso's sternum.
"...and SHOVE IT UP YERGEEZER MASTER'S ARSE!"
COMBATSYS: Tiny successfully hits LaRusso with Light Kick.
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LaRusso 1/------=/=======|-------\-------\0 Axl
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Oro 0/-------/-------|=====--\-------\0 Tiny
LaRusso remains where he is, palm stopped dead against that huge frame, a long breath slowly filling his lungs as he falls numb in dead shock at the impact he just felt. The impact he just caused. But then his gaze flickers upward, wide brown eyes finding that horrifying glower and staring as words begin to spill forth from Tiny's infinite void of a mouth.
Those eyes practically bulge from their sockets when realisation occurs that he is still very much in this fight. That rising knee finds itself chasing a rapidly disappearing boy as he moves swiftly, backpedalling away. But once again it proves too little, too late, and he flies back with a pained cry, hands going to clutch his chest. "Master Oro..." he grates out, lungs feeling crushed and body tenderised already. Second thoughts? Maybe. But a single glance changes all of that, his lips pulling into a serious line as he finds the sennin waiting at the sidelines.
He can't fail. He won't fail.
Drawing himself up, Daniel raises his guard with great care, fixing his attention fully upon the manbeast before him. His heartbeat quickens in his chest, and though he says nothing... his eyes communicate all that needs to be stated. Bring it on. If he can't be ready now, then he never will be.
COMBATSYS: LaRusso gathers his will.
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LaRusso 1/--=====/=======|-------\-------\0 Axl
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Oro 0/-------/-------|=====--\-------\0 Tiny
Bring it on, eh? That's a challenge Tiny sure as hell isn't going to back down from. Once again, the leviathan cracks his knuckles, slab-fist smacking into a broad palm. He locks eyes with the boy, returning the younger fighter's intense look with a murderous stare. The grin on Tiny's face widens, a nightmarish parody of the Cheshire Cat. The cat which ate the proverbial canary, judging from the sheer amount of psychotic confidence radiating from the man.
He takes a step forward, then another...by the third, he's running, a bull-rush at his much smaller opponent. A one-man stampede, arms swinging by his sides, head and shoulders lowered, an incoherent war cry tearing free from his lungs.
COMBATSYS: LaRusso interrupts Ramming Speed from Tiny with Crane Kick.
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LaRusso 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Axl
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Oro 0/-------/-------|=======\==-----\1 Tiny
Patience... courage...
LaRusso swallows a sudden lump as that grin strikes him full blast, all that cockiness threatening to overwhelm the waiting boy. He tightens his stance, forcing every muscle in his body to remain under control. This is the moment of truth. And despite himself, he begins to shake all over - lower lip even quivering before his teeth come down hard, stopping the telltale sign of fear. There is no time for that, nor for anything beside using all that Master Oro has imparted...
When that first titanic step comes down, a decision is made that could make or break this fight. Daniel suddenly lowers his arms, dropping that controlled stance and pulling himself up to his full height - then further, rising up on one leg with the other bent at the knee before him. His arms lift first to maintain balance, hands bent above to complete the famed crane stance. A staple of many styles, but here? Here it is more than a staple. This is destiny.
A final glance goes to the waiting Oro, seeking his approval, then all attention is back upon Tiny. The moment before impact seems to hang in the air, and then...
The sound of meat hammered against a stone slab.
LaRusso leaps off his single point of balance, switching legs to strike out heavily with that violently tensed limb. His foot /slams/ into Tiny's face even as the charge should send the dimunitive boy launching backward in a bloody pulp. And the crowd goes wild, causing a massive grin to erupt upon the youngster's face. Holding his position for a moment, hopping on one leg in utter disbelief, he then stumbles backward, letting his arms fall loosely to his side and seemingly about to turn in celebration - he's done it!
...or has he? Grin faltering, he looks down at the toppled giant, mouth agape.
Oro slaps a hand on the ground - with one arm bound, it's his version of clapping. "All right, that's the way to do it! Don't be scared of muscles, or he controls the fight!"
A low growl escapes from Tiny's shuddering form. Lying on his back, a spiderweb of cracks radiating out from around his body...Tiny shudders. And opens his eyes. The man gets up, shattered cobblestones and debris slewing off his battered form, cascading to the ground as he stands. Heavy steel-capped boots slamming into the earth as he claws free of the impact crater.
Tiny brings a hand to his mouth, wiping away blood and spittle with the back of his broad fist. He regards LaRusso, impassively, the very picture of stony silence.
Then, he growls. Again.
"'m gonna 'ing break yer, geek..."
He snaps an arm to the side, stabbing his index finger at Oro. "...and YER, old man."
Tiny's eyes glint, smouldering like embers. His stare returns to LaRusso, as he begins to stalk forward. "When I'm done wit' yer, geek, yer frickin' momma will need dental records t'identify yer friggin' corpse." Smile. "Now...bend over fer uncle Tiny."
He -explodes- into motion, lunging forward, thrusting one jackhammer fist towards LaRusso's face.
COMBATSYS: Tiny successfully hits LaRusso with Quick Punch.
[ \\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
LaRusso 0/-------/--=====|-------\-------\0 Axl
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Oro 0/-------/-------|=======\==-----\1 Tiny
David and Goliath only worked because the giant stayed /down/.
Daniel and Tiny seems to be a very different story.
LaRusso drops back into his ready stance as soon as the realisation sinks in. This is not over, despite all the damage done with that single mighty kick... high ultimate technique has not proved enough. Where does this leave the boy? With sheer guts. "Not," he repeats for the third time, "Today." Staring fiercely up at the brute as he makes his final threat, there is a fresh spring of determination in the New Jersey native's manner.
If he could beat him once, he can beat him again - he just has to remember that muscles are nothing. No matter how huge and corded, no matter what physical specimen they form.
"Ngh!"
His training fails this time, that fist slamming hard into Daniel's face and pitching him backward in a disoriented stagger. Taken right between the eyes, it seems small miracle he can even stand. Off in the crowd, a girl's voice rings out.. some admirer no doubt, taken by his sheer spirit. It proves enough. Looking up and toward the sound, LaRusso ignores the bruises welling up and his body and swings around to face his opponent, moving in swift and strong to snap up one arm. It comes around in a circling motion, palm borne out and upward to smack Tiny square in the chops...
And that's it. But the other hand is already lifting, tensing. How much more does this kid have to give?
COMBATSYS: LaRusso successfully hits Tiny with Wax On.
[ \\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
LaRusso 0/-------/--=====|-------\-------\0 Axl
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Oro 0/-------/-------|=======\===----\1 Tiny
"'ing geek," Tiny hisses, "I oughta---AARRRGHHHHHH!"
He doesn't get to finish the sentence. Not with a palm crashing into his face with surprising speed and power, mashing his jaw shut...and breaking his nose. Given that Tiny's nose was -already- out-of-joint from years of brawling, LaRusso's -fresh- damage doesn't do anything to improve the man's visage. He stumbles back, swaying unsteadily, looking distinctly cross-eyed. Vision blurring, the giant staggers drunkenly...then gives a sharp shake of the head.
"Gonna squash yer like an 'ing roach," he mumbles, in a daze.
Not that his momentary lapse keeps him from focusing on the dancing blur that's LaRusso's form... or keeping him from linking his fists, swinging an immense hammer blow at the boy - seeking to make GOOD on his word.
COMBATSYS: LaRusso fails to counter Double Fisted Fury from Tiny with Flycatcher.
COMBATSYS: LaRusso can no longer fight.
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Oro 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Axl
> ///////////// ]
|===----\-------\0 Tiny
"Huh!" The exclamation comes when Daniel LaRusso realises he does indeed still have a chance, affirmation coming in the surprisingly potent effect of his strike. This turning of the tide brings a change in his entire posture now - far from a mental improvement, he actually seems to be better positioned, a more practiced ease coming with a shifting of bare feet against the hard ground. "It's all up here..."
A distant murmur greets Tiny's charge, Daniel's previously striking hand retracting to place a single finger against his temple. A smile flickers onto his lips, breathless but very real, and his right hand once more extends outward, with a more deft speed this time, his grasp closing hard upon Tiny's massive strike. Man who catch fly in chopsticks, achieve anything.
Man who fail, fall.
LaRusso fails.
There's not a single sound from the already beaten boy as he takes the double-fisted blow to the face, and his body does not even bounce once it hits the ground. He falls hard, landing flat upon his back and passing out instantly upon impact. All that tighening of his resolution for nothing, the year of hard training, the days upon days of housework...
For /something/. He was here and he confronted his giant.
Not every David can win the battle.
Perhaps he's helped to win the war.
Mr.Big has arrived.
Oro sighs, pushing himself to his feet. "Well, it was a good effort. Too bad effort doesn't count for squat by itself." The old man shuffles out to where LaRusso lies, giving the boy a resigned harrumph. "I guess it's back to painting fences for this kid." He reaches down to grab LaRusso by the ankle, dragging him off the main field. The old man moves slow, taking his time. The fact that there's a big meaty man who's still in fight mode barely seems to register on his radar. His back to Tiny, Oro is just ripe for getting punched.
Axl may have been a bit tweaked at Tiny's earlier outburst... but really, it's nothing new. You take a management position in a gang full of folks who've been told to stick it to the man, to buck authority at every turn, well, of =course= you're going to get smartass remarks. It comes with the territory, and that's why Axl didn't see point in forcing the issue.
Besides, as far as he's concerned, it's paid off, what with Tiny following through with his threat of squashing the boy. And he's careful to give credit where credit is due, mildly clapping his hands once, twice, thrice before draping his hands back over a crossed leg. "Good job. Keep it up!" His gaze turns towards the old geezer. Appearances say the guy ain't worth a damn. =Intuition= tells him Tiny will have quite the fight on his hands, despite his earlier dismissals.
LaRusso made a contribution towards 'winning the war'? Well. Maybe, but if this is a war, it's one against an opponent who doesn't care about little nicities like the Geneva Convention. Case in point - Tiny. The big man barely restrains himself from kicking LaRusso when he's down. He -does-, though, manage to hold still. Sneering at Oro as the old geezer shuffles in. He watches, just standing there, as Oro grabs his comatose student and starts dragging the boy off the battlefield.
Then, Tiny glances over at Axl, flashing a broad grin. Maybe Axl's wary of the old man...but Tiny sure isn't. Because after exchanging a glance with his partner...Tiny bursts into motion, driving a tightly-balled fist at Oro's turned back, intent on simply snapping the old fart's spine right from the outset.
COMBATSYS: Tiny drops his guard to recover.
COMBATSYS: Tiny takes no action.
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Oro 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Axl
> /////////////////// ]
|===----\-------\0 Tiny
COMBATSYS: Oro endures Tiny's Strong Punch!
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Oro 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Axl
> /////////////////// ]
|===----\-------\0 Tiny
Oro lets LaRusso's leg fall once the kid's on the sidelines. His back turned, his manner still uncaring, Oro's attention remains on the boy. Just take a couple moments to check his health, make sure he's okay...the big oaf running up behind him can wait.
As Tiny rears up behind him, Oro does turn his head to look behind him, but no attempt at moving, no surprise, no fear registers. In fact, he remains totally still, presenting the best target Tiny could ever hope for. And when the ham-sized fist slams into his spine...
...It's like striking a rock. Naught but a light shudder runs through Oro, stilled as soon as it begins. "Well, now, muscles. That makes it my turn, doesn't it?" With a sudden high-pitched kiai, like a crow's caw, Oro twists on his bare feet, moving faster than he's done this entire fight. He crouches briefly, the hand that tended to LaRusso a moment before balling into a bony fist...and the apparently crotchety old man erupts from his hunch, slamming his fist toward Tiny's jaw as the motion carries him into the air.
COMBATSYS: Oro successfully hits Tiny with Oniyama.
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Oro 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Axl
> /////// ]
|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Tiny
Tiny's head snaps back with a gunshot -CRACK-, his entire towering form -arching- with the blow. That single impact nearly broke his jaw...hell, nearly separated his head from his shoulders.
And -yet-, somehow, the behemoth remains on his feet. Swaying, staggering, eyes glassy and unseeing, blood and loose, chipped-teeth spraying from his badly fractured jaw. Splattering against the lurid Mad Gear logo decorating his t-shirt. Tiny stumbles in a vague zigzag motion. His eyes are -open-, but it's clear he's not seeing a damn thing. Except possibly a red haze of pure distilled -pain-, and lots of flashing lights. Yeah, he's -finished-...though he's so big and dense, the message is just taking some time to percolate through the lump of tissue inside his thick skull.
Tiny forgot Rule One: 'Do not act incautiously when confronting little bald wrinkly smiling men'.
The message gets there, though...eventually. Eventually. Tiny staggers a final step, bringing him right in front of Oro. And then, with a wordless whimper, he collapses. Falling forward, face-first.
Over Oro.
COMBATSYS: Tiny can no longer fight.
Axl. Just. =Stares=. He had a hunch the old fart was strong. He just had no idea he'd be =that= strong. Jaw slack, eyes wide, the former Mad Gear lieutenant forces himself to look away for a moment.
Just... just =ow=.
COMBATSYS: Oro dodges Tiny's Gaijin Smash.
Oro lands lightly on the ground, assuming his normal hunched-over posture as he focuses his beady eyes on Tiny. Judging from the way he's swaying...Oro takes two steps to the left, allowing the unconscious muscle-bound body to crash to the ground harmlessly beside him.
"Good to know the kid softened him up a bit, anyway." Oro takes a single deep breath, then points at Axl with one spindly finger. "Hey, you. Let's get this fight over with, eh? I'm getting bored." The last comes out as a plaintive whine. Seniors. What can you do?
COMBATSYS: Oro drops his guard to recover.
COMBATSYS: Oro takes no action.
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Oro 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Axl
Bored? Axl was originally getting a bit bored of watching his partner tear through a Joisey scrub -- naturally, =anyone= from New Jersey's bound to lose to a Metro City native. It's just common sense. But watching Oro tear through his partner was enough to get the blood pressure high. Is he immobilized with fear, or anxiety, at the thought of facing such a powerful old man?
... Nah. He just hops off the oil drum, smirking faintly. "Let's kick things up a notch, then."
And with one hand, he reaches back, grabs the lip of the drum, and then whips himself forward to sling the drum at Oro. "Take =this!="
And only =then= does he pull the kusarigama from his leather jacket, whipping the sickle about in a lazy circle to his right.
COMBATSYS: Oro blocks Axl's Large Thrown Object.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Oro 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Axl
Painting the fence. As the drum sails through the air to Oro, he raises an arm lazily, the drum slapping into his open palm. With no visible effort, he redirects the drum to fly straight up into the air. "A weapons user, eh?" His dark, small eyes peer at Axl, sizing him up. "Got some range on that thing. This could present a little challenge." His tone suggests he's not hopeful, though.
While he's been studying Axl, gravity has had time to work on the oil drum, slowing its ascent and gradually bringing it back down to earth. Oro's gaze remains on Axl, which might cause some onlookers consternation, as the drum is falling directly for Oro's head.
Two feet from striking the old sennin, however...the drum freezes midair. Oro had raised his single hand in an upturned claw, and by all appearances...it is his will that the drum should hover there. He closes his fist, and his control over the barrel is confirmed as orange flames begin to envelop it. Oro walks toward Axl is an awkward but deceptively fast shuffle, almost like a crab walk. Once he's in range, Oro throws his clenched fist forward in a textbook punc. He's nowhere near enough to hit Axl with that, but the floating, flaming oil drum matches his fist's movements perfectly...and it whips through the air right for the thug's head.
COMBATSYS: Axl interrupts Tengu Stone from Oro with Sickle Slash.
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Oro 0/-------/-======|=======\===----\1 Axl
Uh oh. He not only =hits= like a freight train, he's versed in the ways of the Force? Aw HEYL no. Axl's eyes widen at that, and he... well, he doesn't know what he's going to do, but he knows he's got to do =something!= And, as such, he rushes forward, as if he's going to run smack into the old man. He can do his fancy David Copperfield act later, after all. He winds his sickle back, clearly aiming to bring it down like a guillotine at the old man.
... w...wait, =what?= The guy's throwing the barrel at him now? This wasn't really in the plan! But attacking with his sickle =was= in the plan -- the fact that a barrel's careening towards him notwithstanding. It just so happens that when the barrel is about to hit, Axl swings the sickle =through= it, the sharp blade slicing the reinforced metal into two neat halves -- before continuing on to slash into Oro! "GRAAAAAAAAAH!"
Of course, he doesn't escape unscathed -- while his =blade= landed, the barrel's still gotta fall. And while Axl isn't swept back, he still gets a =major= ow in the form of one half-barrel clanging into him, instantly taking him to one knee and giving him a =major= headache. "Gnnngh..."
Oro raises his one arm to prevent the sickle from getting any further, and the blade draws a deep red streak across his leathery forearm. He grimaces briefly, but a shake of his head forces the pain to one corner of his brain. Nothing more than a papercut, really.
"Nice job," he allows. It was a good way to stop the assault, to be sure. But this isn't a spar, andOro clearly isn't going to give the guy a chance to get balanced. The old man snakes forward, low to the ground, moving with that surprising speed. With Axl stunned for a moment, he should have just enough time to get up close to Axl. If there's no sickle blocking his way, he meets up with the thug and clambers up onto his back, wrapping the arm around his neck. Like a boa, his deceptively strong arm can clamp down tight in a painful constriction around the thug's neck.
COMBATSYS: Oro successfully hits Axl with Strangle Hold.
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Oro 1/------=/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Axl
Wha... where did the old guy learn how to move like that?! He hits hard, he makes things hover around in mid-air, and now he's darting around like a lizard? Too much for a veteran gangster to fully comprehend, especially with the clamor of a five-alarm headache forcing him to stagger around weakly, with an even =worse= grasp on the situation.
Suffice to say, he doesn't expect the old guy to be latching onto his back and choking him =quite= like that. He staggers around for a moment, attempting to regain control of the situation. "GNNH!"
But ... while the geezer is on his back, there's one thing Axl can guess reasonably well -- where the old man's legs are.
Because, even while struggling for breath, he rams his elbow right back between Oro's legs. Or at least, he =hopes= to nail the crotchety old geezer in the crotch. If he doesn't try, he's already lost!
COMBATSYS: Oro fails to interrupt Low Blow from Axl with Strong Throw.
- Power hit! -
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Oro 1/-----==/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Axl
Well, he doesn't wear that loincloth for nothing. Old as he is, his body's still as intact as it ever was. Unfortunately, that same loincloth provides little protection...
"GNHK!" For the first time this fight, Oro takes on a look of surprise, his eyes even crossing slightly. He loosens his grip on Axl, taking several steps backward. "Why, you insolent little whelp..." Never mind that he'd been advocating the same thing to LaRusso at the start of the fight. He adjusts himself in a way that others might consider embarrassing, but after 150 years on this planet modesty has long since been shed. The adjustment only takes a short moment, but it's enough for Axl to press the attack.
W... yeah! Of course he hit him. It's only natural! Or at least that's what you'd hear if you asked Axl after the fight. Y'know, in the =winner's= circle.
It's important to keep a positive outlook, after all.
While Oro takes a moment to adjust himself, Axl takes a moment to crick his neck one way, then the other. But he doesn't take anywhere near as =long= -- because he's immediately launching into an attack. A series of attacks, that is -- for he leads off with a diagonal slash to the base of the neck. If he's successful, he'd step forward with a reverse hooking slash to the ribcage, reverse sharply to deliver another hard slashing strike to the neck, and then add in a good stiff kick to send Oro sailing away -- just long enough for Axl to =throw= the sickle at the old guy and slam him into the ground for even =more=.
It's a long shot, to be sure, but positive thinking may be the key to success!
COMBATSYS: Oro just-defends Axl's Sickle Slaughter!
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Oro 1/-----==/=======|===----\-------\0 Axl
*muttergrumblegrr* Okay, time to end this fight. Oro looks up from his poor sore meat and two veg just as the sickle comes slicing through the air at him. Oro snorts his impatience, holding up his hand. The handle of the sickle slaps into his dry palm, and he grips it tight. Turning with the sickle's momentum, Oro begins to spin the kusarigama in a wide circle - and with luck he'll take Axl with it. Once he's built up enough force, Oro will just...let go. Smooth, simple, effective.
COMBATSYS: Axl fails to interrupt Strong Throw from Oro with Sickle Strike.
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Oro 1/----===/=======|=======\=------\1 Axl
While a tactical genius might be able to see that all he really has to do to attack Oro is, y'know, =drop the chain=, Axl isn't about to just =let= Oro take his kusarigama away -- it's pretty critical to his strategy, after all! Instead, the leather-jacketed gangster tries to roll with it, leaning into the unexpected toss and bracing to hold on to the very end -- if nothing else, he'd be able to loop the tail end of the chain around Oro's arm and use the momentum against him, right?
=Wrong=. Axl doesn't even get a chance to put his cunning plan into action -- it all takes place in a few blinks of an eye, and the man's too busy struggling to keep his consciousness. Especially after he collides with a tentpole of one of the adjoining markets. A =metal= tentpole, that beans him square in the head, effectively halting his forward momentum, and causing him to slide down, back to the ground.
Axl lands in a low crouch, rising back to his feet with a weary, but nonetheless determined smirk. "Not half bad for an old fart!" he calls out, cracking his neck once more, side to side, as he tosses the kusarigama in his hand, reaquainting himself with the weight. From his stance, though... he won't be able to take a whole lot more.
Oro scratches the back of his head as he listens to Axl throw out more defiance. "Not half bad? You should respect your elders, son. You'll live longer." He holds his single hand up, and in the air just above the palm a bright green dot of chi takes form. It swells rapidly, flecks of darker green swirling in the ball. The sphere grows to larger than his hand, the size of a medicine ball...and there it stops, swirling ominously.
Oro gives a mere disdainful flick of his hand, aiming it toward Axl, and the ball looses itself from his hand, flying toward Axl at a stately but fast pace, the ball weaving in the air as it does. Dodge that, punk.
COMBATSYS: Axl fails to interrupt Yagyou Dama from Oro with Chain Reaction.
COMBATSYS: Axl can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Oro 0/-------/----===|
Axl's jaw just =drops=, at that. Really, he should stop being so damn surprised every time the old codger whips something out, by this point. But that doesn't mean he =won't= be surprised, nonetheless. He's used to dealing with punks who just, y'know, throw punches and slash with knives and stuff, occasionally swing a TV like a mace. Tame stuff. Not this glowy green sphere stuff.
"Ah, hell, just give it up!" Again, positive thinking. Grabbing the tail of his chain, he whips his sickle around in a sharp circle, slashing out out towards Oro's feet in one last-ditch strike. If it succeeds, it'd be nailing the geezer in the ankle and pulling him off-balance.
What actually -happens- though is that the wavering green sphere slams into him, utterly =blasting= him back through the market he'd just bounced on top of. Needless to say, the kusarigama is pulled short, and never even gets =close= to hitting Oro. Indeed -- as Axl flies backwards, plowing through six wooden shelving units, sending fruit, vegetables, and random boxes, flying in his wake like a bulldozer on turbo, his chain wraps around aforementioned tentpole. If the damage =below= weren't enough, the tent is pulled over.
And the tents on either =side= of that tent, as they were all interconnected.
Axl is =still flying= at this point, though -- and ends up slamming hard into a half-dozen random passers-by, knocking them over like tenpins.
Needless to say, the unconscious man won't be rejoining the fight any time soon. Try again in six months, maybe?
Oro lowers his arm slowly, watching the carnage he created. He absently rubs his hand on his frail-looking chest, looking quite smug and pleased with himself. "We win." He turns around, the opponents already forgotten, and settles down in a lotus position next to LaRusso. He plinks the kid on the forehead with a finger. "Hey, wake up. Naptime's over, kiddo." And just like that, he settles down from a powerhouse of destruction back into a little old man. Still, it's clear why he rarely joins tournaments...who would sign up to test their strength and better themselves through combat if the name Oro became well-known?
...and just like that, Daniel LaRusso is jerked back to the land of the conscious, a groan emitting from between parted lips before he pushes himself up onto his elbows. "What? Master Oro? Did we..." Tailing off as his bloodshot eyes scan the battlefield, the boy finishes lamely. "...win." There is no question there, and doesn't need to be. He knew his sensei was strong, but to take both men - at such an age? It brings an astonished shake of the head, until the obvious point occurs.
"We won!" Sitting upright as though completely uninjured, the little karate practicioner grins ear-to-ear and starts to raise a fist triumphantly. Whether it was his doing or not... his first tournament victory is something to be proud of!
Less so are the injuries he's taken.
"We won! I don't be-" Just as his fist shoots up, he cringes and clutches at his chest, "Ugh... man... I think I need to lie down some more."
Oro pats Daniel on the shoulder, his gaze unfocusing to stare into the distance. "You need your rest. We've got a lot of training to do before the next round. I guarantee you the next opponents will be even tougher."
Around them, tournament officials swarm, paramedics moving to help LaRusso...and a -lot- more moving to help Tiny, Axl, and the innocent bystanders that got tangled up in the fray. Oro muses, "I think the next fight needs to take place somewhere a little less crowded. I hate crowds."
Log created by LaRusso, and last modified on 15:37:31 03/06/2006.