Description: Nobody's quite sure what to make of this one, folks. The SNF fight coordinators were thinking they might have to label this one a Did Not Happen, but... Terry fell over in the end, so there /must/ have been a fight... right? (Winner: Vega)
A construction site. Jumbled mess of erect girders and loose cables, various pieces of wall completed at intervals along the outlined building to create a picture at once lonely, chaotic and full of endless promise. The arrangement is almost artistic in its controlled entropy, its site amongst the sweeping woodlands outside Southtown only adding to the mysterious, contrasting beauty of its nature. Tragic? In part, perhaps, a symbol of the spreading disease dubbed mankind; but before this was called epidemic, it was named progress. Evolution. Here stands a temporary monument to all the conflicts and contradictions embodied in the state of civilisation... fitting tribute to the man who has brought two titans together for their own clash of wills.
One might well be termed a force of nature.
The other is set upon a path parallel to the aesthetic duality which surrounds this place, to the urban world and the natural. A man forged in the co-existing embers of each.
Some might say; the present and the future.
Terry Bogard attributes no such egotistical claim in his existence, as evidenced by his entrance. Drifting through the perimeter of officials and spectators, eyes downcast from the rolling cameras, concealed beneath that eternal cap, the blonde warrior makes no attempt to acknowledge the facade placed over this meeting. Sports entertainment would be shallow reason indeed to meet with a being like Vega - here, it has provided a means to an end. On occasion he might play into the crowd, revel in their appreciation of his achievements, but today he is focused to the point of appearing dour.
As the Hungry Wolf nears the clearly designated area, he glances left and right for the first time since his arrival, marking the space provided and filing away the smaller details. It's as good a spot as any, wide enough to ensure the safety of those watching while providing little cover for the two fighters. They can only circle each other, or head upwards into the skeletal scaffold. Nodding his silent approval, Terry steps over to one side of the area, chest rising as he takes in a deep breath and slowly, surely falls into a ready position. Leather creaks about his weathered fingers as each fingerless glove is tightened in turn. He's ready. He has to be.
This has been a long time coming.
COMBATSYS: Terry has started a fight here.
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Terry 0/-------/-------|
What would bring Vega back into this tournament so soon? What would make him willing to endure the concept of another loss within so public a venue? Today, for him - he does not fight for Howard's sake. He fights because he is drawn to proving himself. Drawn to proving, once and for all, that he is a power to be respected, feared - worshipped, in the end. This drive, this ever-present desire brings him back, and the concept of fighting one so well-known and well-thought of by the crowds is a lure that the Master of Shadaloo cannot ignore.
Much like the Hungry Wolf, Vega enters without preamble - stepping through the crowds easily, the sickening aura of his Psycho Power serving as a crowdbreaker. No autograph hounds come for him, oh no - they stay far away from the red-uniformed Lord. As he reaches the designated area, he glances over Terry, his opponent.
And finds him lacking, in a way that should make this fight most interesting indeed. The grin that grows on his face is predatory, the gleam of a crocodile about to snap up a particularly fat or slow bird. He motions to the scaffolds, and then wraps one hand around an iron girder. "I prefer the higher altitudes - That is where our battle will be." Without more of an explanation, he turns his back on Terry - and uses that single hand to launch himself upwards, towards the higher floors, landing on an exposed beam several floors up. From there, he looks down - and he waits, simple enough. Observing from on-high.. much like a conqueror should.
COMBATSYS: Vega has joined the fight here.
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Terry 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Vega
COMBATSYS: Vega takes no action.
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Terry 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Vega
Terry is not here to prove himself, the competition meaning nothing. Putting on a pretty spectacle for Howard is of no consequence whatsoever - in the past, he has done this regardless, for the fans and for his continued quest to absorb knowledge and experience. There is no better way for a fighter to develop than to keep himself active, whether that means private battles among distant dojos or a constantly replayed showdown in the public eye. Today, he /is/ here for the fans... though in a way few need to know. Vega is a dangerous man, capable of thrusting fear into the hearts of men and women Terry respects greatly. People he has trained with, learned from.
That power, in the wrong hands, is monstrous.
Whether this be the future calling, to shunt aside the soon-to-be past, he cannot know nor deign to speculate. Southtown has to be protected, and the sinful coil that dictates decision among the city's rulers will not do that by itself. It may smack of arrogance to some, but the Hungry Wolf considers his prescence an aid to a necessary defence. He does have power of his own, impotent as it may sometime seem against the endless trials presented by men like Geese and Vega. A power that cannot, will not, be underestimated. When his opponent appears, this is what drives the spark in Terry's eye, embodying his every motion as he exhales, raising his right arm and beginning to twitch extended fingers.
These freeze dead as the grinning man speaks, and launches himself heavenward. An irony in that description, certainly. The heavens are no place for that evil taint. Dropping his guard to track Vega's path with a calm eye, no fear lurks in the living legend's gaze. Though he has certainly measured the dictator in much the same way he has /been/ measured. The stout psion is also lacking; in basic humanity, in compassion and love for the world, in what might be called true strength. Brushing these thoughts aside as footnotes to the intent which must be maintained, the elder Bogard tenses himself and springs upward.
A backflip carries him to the lowest beam, an instant release of alternate muscles turning the landing into a second somersault forward, three further short distances travelled before Terry lands balanced against a corner of the structure, offset from Vega's position. Clinging there momentarily, the blonde uses a free hand to adjust his cap, smirks, and makes the final charge.
"FIGHT!!" Frantically the announcer's voice sounds from below, carrying an awareness that this is not his match to call, not his choice to make. The combatants will begin when they feel, finish when there is nothing left to communicate. This is their fight, not his, not Howard's... this transcends that.
"Syaaa!" For all the passion hidden beneath his focused visage, the Hungry Wolf's kiai is tight and controlled, as he twists his body gracefully in the air, rising briefly above Vega's line of sight and then coming down with an arcing axe kick from the right leg.
COMBATSYS: Vega endures Terry's Strong Kick.
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Terry 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Vega
Excellent - a challenge.
Vega's crazed grin grows wider as Terry approaches, building up his courage and will to strike at the Shadaloo Lord with all his power. Vega can feel that strength inside his opponent - and then he reaches out for it. As the leaping kick comes inwards, Vega steps _into_ the attack, to allow the heavy-footed Hungry Wolf his strike. The heavy crunch of bone-on-bone eches from above, Vega's knees almost buckling, and the girder beneath his shined boots creaks dangerously.
But still, he smiles. Smiles as if he knows something that Terry does not - something that Terry /can not/ know. Harsh whisper, his voice for the Wolf alone, angry and determined. "This locale is too crowded, Terry Bogard.. We are going _elsewhere_." With that, there is a blaze of purple energy around the pair - and the fighters, on the scaffold, go stock still - frozen in the posture they were in when Terry's leg struck true.
For Terry, however - the blazing purple light is one of Vega's hidden talents. Similar to the projections of his voice into other's minds - he's moved this combat from the physical to the mental, within Terry's head. The pair no longer fight on any simple building, oh no - the Tower that they stand upon is far more familiar to the Hungry Wolf. One he's been at before, one he's battled for his life upon. His opponent, however, is unchanged. Vega, glowing with the power of his mind, his dark Psychopower fueling the inner battle. He growls at Terry again, his voice louder, as if it were coming from inside Terry's ears. "... Now.. Show me your will, Terry. Strength? Strength is nothing without will to back it up. Prepare!!" And with that, Vega launches himself at the other man, a blisteringly fast wave of purple energy exploding in front of him as he does so!
COMBATSYS: Terry endures Vega's Psycho Wave.
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Terry 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Vega
Both faces are familiar to pretty much every spectator within the audience. But one 'person' is particularly interested in not the outcome of the match, but rather to study Vega for once, even if it does send some of her programming a bit haywire from the intense amount of psychopower. ".. You are nearly impossible to keep tabs on, Vega," Candy Diamond murmurs to herself, her gaze more focused than usual, and a hand raised to her left ear.
Of course Terry doesn't go unnoticed either, come to think of it, she should make an effort to get an autograph at the end of the match for a certain someone.
As his heel descends to deal that staggering impact, the Hungry Wolf continues his own motions instantly; it may have been a ponderous move, flashier than might be well-advised against the Shadaloo dictator, but he does not plan for this battle to turn to mere berserk tactics. The question of who hits harder is likely not one to which he would desire an answer... not when such stakes lie upon this fight. A victory here means the ball in his court, a chance to fight back the demon threatening his loved ones. His beloved city.
Bending at the waist, extending his left arm to counter-balance the retreating leg and beg for purchase on the thick girder, Terry's recovery seems to be well assured. Fingertips dig against the cold steel, his knees begin a ponderous lift close to this chest, but then suddenly it all stops. A flash of warm chi running up his forearm in sudden sympathy to the power summoned by Vega, the blonde's gaze flickers up to the face of his opponent, meeting those stark pupiless eyes. Elsewhere? The question finds its own answer before the mind can react under a sudden barrage of energy, the senses blurring and reason flying free and useless. He has no idea what's happening...
"Vega!" The cry goes out through gritted teeth, as the Wolf fights off the assault upon his innermost being. Then suddenly, the ground beneath his solid, the abrupt completion of his manuever landing him not upon the expected perch but on different footing. More familiar footing. "...gonna take more than to impress me," he mutters, fighting back a rising panic that is only too human. Then, he might have risen to his feet. Instead, he's met with a barrage of that deadly power he's heard so much about, arms flying up to form a guard in instinctive response.
They instantly lower.
The wave engulfs Terry, his silhouette briefly visible against the dark purple depths, and the pain proves more than he's felt in quite some time; though distinctly different, as though the searing is far from physical. In an instant he understands. Lowering his face from the light, detecting the man before him with other senses than those most mundane, he lifts a fist with great effort, a golden blaze hammering into defiant life as his knuckles creak against the strain. "You want my will?! You want my strength?!" His voice deep, cracked in the torrent of power, he nonetheless sounds loud and clear. "It's yours!" That red-gold light becomes a jet-stream behind his arm, Terry launching himself at Vega in perfect counter to his own charge. His own, earthly powers rising to meet the announced challenge, the Wolf flings himself in with a twisting uppercut, shoulder and fist leading in an attempt to strike that gargantuan chin.
"POWER DUNK!!" At impact, both men rise, good and evil shooting from the extravagantly carpeted floor right up to the ceiling, before the searing fist is brought around in a second strike, an entire rotation of the body carrying the massive torque required to pitch 'Lord' Vega brutally to the floor.
COMBATSYS: Vega endures Terry's Power Dunk.
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Terry 1/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Vega
His will, his power - it's all the same, really. Vega wants that from Terry - and he's willing to show the other man that what he can give is trifling - to break Terry's spirit, he has to be more than the other man is prepared to deal with - he has to be far enough above Terryy's will that his own power can break it into tiny pieces and crush it down - to be rebuilt again in his own image. Or simply snuffed out, like an errant flame that thinks far too much of itself.
Within the mental battle, Vega is easily able to show no wear or tear, the blazingly fast attack battering at his mind, and being rebuffed without effort - at least, to Terry's eyes. Internally, it's an incredible amount of power to deal with, and Vega's aura from atop the scaffolding flares and fades with the impacts that rock his psyche. But for his opponent, there are no clues to how well he is doing - the smirk of Vega's face never changes, the growl of offering the man another chance continues, a cackle of his voice echoing throughout the false fighting field. He's brutally slammed against the ground, the stones of Geese's Tower crumbling beneath his back, a radial shattermark echoing around and around them. And then Vega simply.. dissappears from under that certain grip of Terry's hands, reappearing behind him.
"Not enough, Bogard - you are weak. No more a challenge than any I've met before. Prove me wrong, or die here, in this Tower. prove me right... and I may have a use for you." He hisses out the words, and then hops three steps back, lowering his body. That corona of purple psi wreathes up around his body again, and he launches himself towards his opponent, fists outstretched. There's no need to call out his attack - after all, most who have seen it before know what it is - and have felt, first hand, it's power.
The Psycho Crusher.
COMBATSYS: Vega successfully hits Terry with Psycho Crusher'.
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Terry 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Vega
Terry lands upon his feet, knees buckling momentarily beneath the weight as man and force slam down upon them for much-needed support. By any standard that was a blow worth striking, power and speed embodied into the perfect manifestation of a strike usually somewhat ponderous by comparison. In the forefront of the Wolf's mind stand two conflicting emotions; one bringing the anger and confusion that must be mastered, a bewildered rage invoked by the Psycho Power even now forcing his perceptions into a merry dance, but the other is a side-effect of that very advantage. What benefits Vega, benefits him also...
He can deal with an awful lot, a trait which runs in the family, even beyond those biologically related; and this is important. Inside his mind, in the deepest and darkest recesses, Southtown's legendary blonde warrior stashes his own personal demons, his own doubts and fears as does any man. But he comes equipped to combat these, most of all on a day like this, prepared and focused with power driving his thoughts and actions that is not even fully his own. Rather, it is an amalgam of that belonging to all he endeavours to love and protect, a gathered emotional drive that pleads with body and mind to continue where they otherwise might not.
It would enough to break many.
Terry has to be better than that.
Breathing heavily, he falls to one knee before the gloating dictator, bright blue eyes tainted with an odd distance that manifests yet more strangely internally. Flashes of light can be seen to every side of this much-maligned chamber, echoes of past, present and perhaps even the future, springing to disorientating life about the two duelling figures. Geese Howard, his arms folded with laughter shaking his dominant frame. A young, blonde woman lying dashed in a pool of her own blood. Two friends, bearing very different gifts, standing side by side facing down a cloud of inky blackness smeared before the far wall. Some images distinct, others so uncertain that their existence speaks for itself. All of these Terry forces aside through will, but the battle is hard indeed; two more ghosts materialising for each he can successfully combat. Then... there is the minor matter of Vega himself, so brutal and twisted, so fearful in a way far beyond that of other men. Unearthly, something either vastly transcendent or so warped as to appear such, a lethal being formed from hate and ambition. But so much more besides.
Too late, it registers amid the chaos that this grotesque would-be ruler is making fresh movement, recovered so quickly from his own ordeal that it threatens to belittle all the work undertaken by the Hungry Wolf. Unlike the first assault, this leaves no time for a guard to be raised, not even a single instant in which physical action can be made. There is no sense even beginning to rise, so Terry uses the advantage he possesses here - this is /his/ realm. Focusing his entire being into a central point, the last thing sighted before impact is a thunderous flash of energy, chi meeting Ps
chi meeting Psycho Power to blinding effect.
It does not save the Wolf, but it buys him survival. Hurled back by the direct impact, chest on fire and senses all but destroyed for a few precious heartbeats, it is all he can do to turn pounding impact with the wall into a rebound recovery roll, tucking into one shoulder and emerging in a desperate crouch two bodylengths from Vega. Rising to his feet, Terry clenches a fist, the other arm lifting to cast a wide gesture to one side, defiant and dismissive. Despite the pain, the fear he should be feeling, there is willpower enough to keep a spark alive. "No, Vega, this isn't a fight you brought into being. Whatever you do, whatever you say, this was inevitable! For everything you've done, you'll be the one proved wrong today. Your illusions don't scare me. Your power can't finish me. Not here, not now or /ever/."
Feet sliding apart, he swings his arms into a traditional Hakyokusaken stance, so unassailably solid yet flexible. Defensive and powerful. "If y'can't handle that, take your best shot."
COMBATSYS: Terry gains composure.
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Terry 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Vega
Such defiance...%
Perhaps this is a spirit that cannot be broken? Perhaps this is all for naught, and Terry is beyond breaking. Even if so, Vega will continue to persevere - to prove himself to the man who defiantly challenges him in his own mind. Vega is an intruder, there - and as such, he may not be able to win. With that thought in mind... Vega takes action.
The scene for Terry flickers and vanishes, Geese's tower replaced by reality, by the high scaffolding that the match started on. Vega looks none the worse for wear from the battle thus far, though the girder beneath him shows the damage from Terry's first kick. The Shadaloo lord looks into Terry's eyes, seeking any sense of damage, of fear or pain. Seeing so little to work from - he attempts to give the man some of those emotions to deal with... And perhaps, to give him leverage.
"The reality is... your LOSS!" Exploding with speed, Vega brnigs his left foot forwards, aiming at Terry's side. The foot blazes with his puple aura, evidently aiding the speed of the attack!
COMBATSYS: Terry blocks Vega's Strong Kick.
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Terry 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Vega
No man is unbreakable. But upon his home ground, he can seem to be. For Terry this fight has not veered from such a location; Vega may possess the greater control, but this is no more a test than that presented by Geese - perhaps though, it would be more flattering to term it as an identical form of challenge. Both men are similarly fearful warriors, clearly able to take the Hungry Wolf on whatever terms, perhaps surpass him by a considerable amount. His hope is, as it has always been, the will and defiance to continue regardless, punish adversity with calm and preparation. He /has/ failed in the past.
But not today.
When the images shift away, fading with the distracting backdrop to once more give the spectators a clear view of the battle, it is as though nothing has changed. Physically. Mentally, there is so much more to deal with, the assault not letting up for one second as echoes continue to haunt the red-capped fighter. A frown touching his brow proves the only outward manifestation of this concern; though Vega would be able to feel the battle raging, view what those upon the ground cannot. His challenge has been accepted, but a victor has not yet emerged.
At least Hakyokusaken provides all Terry needs to continue the brawl.
Solid; his left forearm snaps downward in a heavy chopping motion, with impetus perfectly judged to stop Vega's striking limb dead. No energy outlines Terry's flesh, an expression of 'simple' martial arts mastery all to be seen in the guard and what follows. As the arm descends, the other is tensing, fingers uncurling only to rapidly clench back into a much tighter fist, designed for a pure offensive. The excess motion is designed only to catch the eye however, as the quick assault is led by a lightning fast palm-thrust from the previously lowered left hand. Snapped out toward Vega's face, it is more a feint that anything.
"I lose nothing by defeating you," The quietly spoken declaration is made along with a deft step forward, the blonde balanced upon the girder, seeming uncowed by the change in location. "All I do is /protect/." Punctuating the last with the true strike, as his right fist hammers forward, a rotation of the upper body adding a little power to a blow designed simply to stagger the dictator, striking fast at the sternum.
COMBATSYS: Terry successfully hits Vega with Medium Punch.
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Terry 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Vega
"Hnn..."
Vega listens to the tirade. He's heard it before. 'You cannot win, you'll be defeated, Evil never wins, I fight to protect the innocent' Blah, blah, blah. Prattle, simple and mindless. Nothing worth dealing with, nothing more than the bleating of sheep in a meadow, waiting to be shorn, or witing to be eaten by a predator. A wolf. The irony of the thought is not lost on him - the Wolf being compared to the true predator that Vega is.. mn. An interesting contrast. One who is called by others as a wolf, but refuses to live up to it's expectation... and one who knows what he is and cares not about what others think he is.
Vega's body doesn't move as the punch hits him - his body immobile upon the girder he stands, showing again no effect from the phenomenal power that Terry wields. He reaches down, towards that hand, wrapping his own fist around it. Again, words for Terry alone, an evil rasp. . . "Perhaps we should return this fight ... below." With that, he attempts to launch Terry over his shoulder, down off the girders and towards the announcer.
COMBATSYS: Terry endures Vega's Strong Throw.
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Terry 0/-------/---====|=======\-------\0 Vega
Wolves, sheep, and each wearing the garb of the other... no man should truly be defined by a single moniker, nor a single possible facet of that name's meaning. Predator, prey, hero, villain, all become void when viewed from another perspective, replaced perhaps by an otherwise oppositional term or by some other, less reactionary descriptive. Terry would not define himself in the manner of those who choose to do so on his behalf, nor stoop to declaring his existence anything but what is truly is. Here he claims to protect; but it is an honest statement of intent, that same integrity blazing in his eyes as his clenched knuckles strike home.
No, he doesn't care. Not about that. There are greater worries.
As Vega's fingers close their deadly grip, the Hungry Wolf does not draw away, speak nor react in any other overtly external manner. Though to his opponent, a flash of the eyes will reveal all that needs to be known - he was ready for that. Fool indeed the man who would still expect to send the Shadaloo dictator staggering from a single punch. "I'd love to oblige," Terry murmurs in return as he's flung, loosening his body and then rapidly tensing the same muscles upon release, using the momentum to his favour and reversing the intended tumble to an aerial redirection. "But I've made it pretty clear I'm not here for your whim." Landing upon the next girder along, Converse heels clapping softly against the firm metal, the blonde pauses not for a further heartbeat, buckling at the knees and flinging himself forward.
It's quite a leap. His right fist lashes out once more, but this time it brings a violent thunderclap that rocks the upper reaches of the scaffold, causing the entire framework to shudder. A golden flare explodes about unclad knuckles, the nearby leather creaking an unheard protest as all other sound is dwarfed in volume by Terry's cry. "BURN KNUCKLE!!" His speed increases midway through the jump, a sheer horizontal motion attained that passes in a blur, that red-and-white form a desperate flicker that closes on Vega with unbelievable force, shrouded fist prepared to plough through his stout, muscular form.
Unstoppable force, meet immovable object. A battle of wills indeed.
COMBATSYS: Vega blocks Terry's Burn Knuckle.
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Terry 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1 Vega
An amazing leap, indeed! Vega is impressed, though he would never say so. That blazing fist of Terry's arcs through the air, the Wolf behind it Vega's focus. The man is still defiant, leaping to the air like Icarus, striving to meet the Gods themselves. And this God - this God is vengeful, angry and impatient.
And we all know what happened to Icarus, don't we? Vega leaps out to meet the attack, letting the impact of the Burn Knuckle catch on his shoulder. In midair, they hang - paused for something that must seem like a timeless moment, buoyed up by the power of Vega's evil mind. And then... he shouts out, in something like a focused rage...
"I said.. WE GO DOWN!"
Vega's body explodes into energy again, and he attempts to wrap Terry up in his aura. He doesn't allow poor Icar... Terry the benefit of gravity, either - his momentum is added to , multipled to by Vega's will. If and when they land - it will be a very deadly thing indeed...!
COMBATSYS: Vega successfully hits Terry with Psycho Crusher'.
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Terry 1/-----==/=======|-------\-------\0 Vega
Gods fall with time, into obscurity at best. At worst; a horrific self-parody fused into the customs of other civilisations and religions, at once mocking themselves and somehow strengthening the validity of the survivors. Evolution. Past, present, future, all affected by the hubris directed from a single source - but the mark made by that force of conceited will varies immensely, depending upon the handling. Vega seeks to impress the crowds, to wow the globe with his power? Then his display is certainly apt. But such spectacle is fleeting, mere fireworks against a greater scheme for those that might boast any longevity in their own beliefs. To truly transcend one's humanity is to do far more than impress a gaggle of gawping onlookers.
Still. Even in these endeavours, there will always be opposition, a 'mere mortal' willing to hurl himself into the skies on a promise of his own hubris. Defying expectation, probability and common sense... but this, this is what the Hungry Wolf does best, surviving no matter the outcome to somehow become stronger. Sometimes, hubris can mask a far more humble drive.
As the pent-up energy is nullified by his fist's astonishing impact with armour pauldron, Terry finally feels the unyielding form of Vega to be more of an obstacle. Whatever battle of will he was fighting, a victory has been won, the Southtown native drawn into a trap from which he cannot freely stumble. Over-confident, or simply too naive? His preparation momentarily seems for naught, his body encompassed once more by psychic power, thoughts invaded, emotions trampled. Dispair ought to rise at a time like this, but as the two men fall Terry's opponent will feel movement, a shift in posture that Should Not Be. The power hurled against him is mighty indeed, but the Hungry Wolf brings himself over the edge and beyond, looping back around to drag forth his own strength. Bucking against the near-intolerable emotional agony, he catches a glimpse of the ground through the maelstrom.
"SYAAAAAAAAAAH...!!" Screaming over the onslaught, one such as Vega will sense the sheer bloody-minded determination that surfaces, as strong as before yet heightened under pressure. No longer the calm, self-assured control reigning it in, this is pure and untouched by civilised practice. As close as the Wolf will ever come to being truly berserk. With primal force, at the moment of impact with the site below, a fist is brought down into the floor, jackhammering down to summon the very will of the earth itself. Chi streams in from every quarter, even the innate energy of the crowd seeming to flood into Terry's knuckles and then out into the dirt. An instant later the effort manifests a titanic geyser of energy, exploding upward to potentially carry both men up, far up, even past the half-constructed building's highest point.
And as they rise, Terry Bogard gains further control of his injured form. Spiralling into a rising, twisting uppercut aimed to repeatedly pummel his foe... ordinarily it would culminate in a final insult, high above the ground, but can such power be withstood for so long? By the men, by the very atmosphere surrounding them? Nothing good can come of this...
COMBATSYS: Terry can no longer fight.
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Vega 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Vega dodges Terry's Overshoot Geyser.
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Vega 0/-------/-------|
Power met by power - the last fitful gasp of energy from Terry is stronger than some of those who claim to be warriors's stronget attacks. To Vega, though - it means nothing. He merely _allows_ the explosion to launch him upwards, to let Terry try and follow him in. Letting the Wolf into the fold, into his sphere of influence, to where /Vega/ is supreme.
Vega moves around the uppercut as it spirals, keeping a mere inch of space between his chin and Terry's desperate attack. Those white eyes of his stare in at Terry, battering the desperate warrior with the force of his psyche. And then, at the apex, as chi is overtaken by weakness, and gravity begins to set into the pair again, Vega lashes out with his hand, catching Terry around the throat.
Holding him within the air, he waits, simply watching his opponent. That core of will is still there - battered and bruised, but functioning and stable. This is a match that Vega has lost on a fundamental level - he still cannot break Terry's will. He can, however.. vent his frustration in another way. Clutching hard at the other man's thoat, he whispers words for that man only.
"Your will is impressive.. But your body is just as weak as any I have fought. Your 'protection' will be a curse on any you seek to aid. I will /see/ to that."
The theat given, he simply twists, and spins to gather momentum. Instead of upwards, or away - he releases Terry as he aims downwards, psi-enhanced muscles attempting to thow Terry _through_ a pile of scrap garbage at the base of the structure they fought upon. As soon as Terry has left his grip - Vega vanishes, in a blaze of purple light.
COMBATSYS: Vega takes no action.
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Vega 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Vega has ended the fight here.
Hmn.. Well, so much for getting that autograph. Once Vega makes his disappearance, Candy lowers her hand from her ear and turns around, probably the only one that isn't left gawking at the rather unsportsmanlike ending. She more or less got what she wanted, so definatly time to go home.
Log created by Vega, and last modified on 19:30:28 09/16/2006.