Description: Recovering from a close encounter of the Yagami kind, Mr. Big takes advantage of the vulnerability to poke at the supposed 2nd in command.
Angry. Billy Kane is very angry right now. Although he's fully recovered from his bout with Iori Yagami earlier, that hardly means that the aggravation is less despite remaining excessively on a workout regiment almost immediately after his basic medical care. It was incredibly public, and regardless of not being as thoroughly humiliating, has now likely cemented Billy as an 'underdog wannabe rival' to the redhead. A far fall from a former world champion. Perpetuating a string of failures for Geese Howard was not how he wished to start off, and right now the focus of that is within the training floor. There's a little bit of everything, from matts to exercise and weight machines, floor neatly polished wood and a comfortable lighting saturating every inch. Some rooms are sectioned with mirrors and sparing areas, others enclosed or with windows showing the skyline.
And situated in the middle of a matted area is Billy himself, temporarily shirking his blue leather jacket but still housing the accompanying pants and shoes. Bandages are wrapped around his chest, and some gauze peeks beneath his white and red bandana. There's dozens of blue balls dangling from the ceiling via thin wires, Billy's staff situated beneath his armpit in an offensive posture directly in the middle. His body is already saturated in sweat, breath heavy. He's been at this a few hours already.
"Hnnngh!" Bursting into motion, Billy flits about his weapon expertly, weaving amongst the orbs. But rather then attempt to hit them, he's trying not to; Not even the whisks of air disturb the balls, despite savage impacts with padded ground, thrusts, and acrobatic whirls.
Yet he messes up some time in, smacking one of the orbs aside in a mistimed thrust. Stopping immediately, the staff is smacked /hard/ on the ground before being gripped tightly in both hands. And from the expression on his face, Billy's on the verge of breaking it over his knee.
"Abunee zo, Biri-sama," Mr. Big warns in fluent Japanese, his tone sarcastic as he addresses the Brit with an honorific. Standing a short distance behind Billy, who might not have heard him enter the training area during his intense workout, the gangster continues in English, "You wouldn't want to hurt yourself."
Dressed in a loose-fitting canvas karategi, Mr. Big scratches his goatee thoughtfully as he circles around the punk-turned-bodyguard and makes his way onto the matted area, shiny black batons sticking out of the gi's belt innocuously. "You know," the crime boss begins, "If you spent more time with girls that aren't related to you, you might not have to train so hard to make the bad thoughts go away," he adds with a faux serious look on his face. "Just an idea," he says with a wolfish grin.
Indeed, Mr. Big managed to drift in without Billy realizing it. Not many are able to use these facilities after all, even though at this hour of the weekend, the somewhat exclusive clientele is likely to also opt for a workout. Turning to look over his shoulder, Mr. Big would see an almost feral glare, dangerously edged. A true herald that he was most definitely born and raised within brutal streets, and the fire of such has far from left him. Billy rests the long staff on a shoulder now, rolling his free arm to loosen the joint and cracking his head hard to the side. Although at the comment about Lilly, there's a sudden tension and grit teeth.
"And it's never too late to learn how to properly swing a stick." A rather outright statement that Billy is the greater between the two, smoothly flipping the crimson shaft over and attempting to give Mr. Big a stout poke to the chest within the end. "I might be in the damn mood to personally demonstrate. I don't think I've taken you down a few notches in a few months, have I?" He's not usually this touchy to such jibes, even though in the best of times there's friction between the pair.
But thereafter a grin creases his lips, as he retracts the weapon regardless to continue the cooldown stretches. "Speaking of putting you in your place..." Shifting a leg forward, Billy bends in a disturbingly fluid manner with a huff. "...I think I might just take a more active hand in Southside this time around." The latter might be one of the things Big would care to hear least. After all, he's not quite the second in command, even if Billy never exercises it. "What do you say? I'll put in a word with Geese... get you a promotion. I could use an asskisser to get me coffee."
Making no move to avoid the poke to his chest, Mr. Big lets the staff thud against his pecs soundly. "A MORE active hand? I would have thought your hand was pretty active already. I mean, there's gotta be SOME reason Geese keeps you around." Chuckling softly at his own joke, Mr. Big pulls the batons from the belt at his waist and begins to spin them lazily in his hands. "So yeah, why don't you show me a little somethin, -King of the Fighters-? We can always use some pointers, right?" he asks with a smirk as he reverses the spin of the batons in his hands.
"Also, coffee?" Mr. Big asks offhandedly. "I thought you limeys drank tea."
Slowly, Billy stops stretching. He stands upright, flexing his free hand and once more turning to face the sunglassed figure opposite. Parting through the myriad balls with a disturbing deftness, his own long staff is twirled around between his fingers. Mr. Big, after all, is the subtle one. Billy prefers to get directly to the point. "I'm a nice guy, Mr. Big. Aren't I?" This is cooed, in a completely reasonable tone. His grin remains borderline sadistic of course, nuances of his body language a sharp contrast. "I'll give you this one chance to fall in line." He wouldn't stop until he's barely a foot away, in order to stare the other man down rather brazenly. The end of his staff impacts the ground beside him, tongue drawn across his pursed lips as his other hand again moves to jab against the larger man's chest anew. It's certain that in terms of physique and stature, Billy's the lesser. Poke. Poke. Poke.
"Heh." Mr. Big chuckles as Billy navigates his way through the balls. (Lots of practice?) Did pursing his own lips in thought as Kane orders him to comply, Mr. Big actually almost appears to barely consider it for half of a split second. Glancing down as Billy then starts to poke him in the chest with his finger; Mr. Big begins to shake his head slowly. "Well, I guess if you put it that way..." he says with a shrug of resignation.
The last half of his sentence goes unsaid as the right hand at his side suddenly blurs into motion, the baton in it's grip flying towards the side of Billy's head. Sure, Billy IS technically second in charge of the Southtown Syndicate, but there's no way Mr. Big is going to take orders from some limey putz who's experience with running a crime syndicate pretty much begins and ends with stealing a hunk of bread to feed himself and that brat little sister of his. Yeah, it's insubordination, but if Geese wants some cowering sheep with no balls to oversee the illegitimate half of Howard Enterprises, well there are plenty of other people available with those specific qualifications.
"Oops. I guess that was my last chance."
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big has started a fight here.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Billy has joined the fight here.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Billy
COMBATSYS: Billy counters Fierce Strike from Mr.Big with Fire Dragon Pursuit Cane.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Billy
"...Tch!" Billy catches the motion to swing, slipping backwards and twirling his staff in the same motion. He manages by a hair's breadth, enough that his eyes narrow. But still the intercept is clean, sound resounding with a terrible clack likely a couple stories above and below. And instantly he rather viciously hefts it aside, in the same motion disassembling his staff. A rather thoroughly content cackle leaves his lips as he strikes both ends across Mr. Big's upper body in two swift motions, using that brief moment to hopefully send him staggering backwards. Flowing backwards like water, in a flick of his wrist the crimson weapon comes back together. "Damn straight it was your last chance!! But I think you've earned a vacation -- I'll just make sure it's in intensive care!" Although arrogant, Mr. Big would tell that Billy's taking this very seriously. There's no sign of being carefree, his stance defensive and eyes watching carefully. Not dropping his guard even an iota. Although the crime boss might of presented a careless opening that time, there's no guarantee that will happen again this fight. Regardless, he's almost bouncing on his feet, leaning forward with the weapon at the ready.
Staggering backwards a few steps, Mr. Big's mouth pulls into a vicious sneer as he stares down Billy. "Well, come on then!" Mr. Big shouts as he motions towards his chest with both of his batons. "Hurry up and send me there!" he yells, his hatred for the British thorn in his side roiling up inside of him now that it has had a chance to be fully unleashed.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big focuses on his next action.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Billy
"You need to learn we're light years apart!!" Billy wastes no time going on the offensive now that his opponent stepped back, shifting forward before suddenly unleashing a literal onslaught of jabs. They blur together so much it seems that the Brit has a half-dozen arms, pistoning in the air with all his range. The aim is to devastate Mr. Big chestually, of course, although the actual force is fairly minute each. Combined, it could probably stagger Geese for a few seconds. Strength in numbers, most certainly. And Billy's own anger is beginning to shift towards more ridicule then anything, actually doing a little hop from place to place and shifting his staff upwards. "Hey hey hey!" Showboating can't hurt, and at least psychologically it might help!
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big fails to interrupt Straight Cane Smasher from Billy with Double Ground Blaster.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/--=====|===----\-------\0 Billy
His eyebrows narrowing as Billy comes in for the kill, Mr. Big begins to whip his batons upwards as their tips begin to spark. "GROUND BLAAaarrggh!" Mr. Big cries out as his chestmeats are made into hamburger by the insanely quick staff barrage. Thrown backwards by the cumulative force of the attack, the bald gangster barely manages to turn the backwards slide into a back shoulder roll that carries him into a crouch. "I'm going to fucking kill you." Mr. Big growls in anger as he springs towards the bodyguard, his batons blurring into motion as the left one strikes out towards his face, the right following close behind to try to catch him in the jaw and send Billy sailing into the air as Big leaps.
His eyebrows narrowing as Billy comes in for the kill, Mr. Big begins to whip his batons upwards as their tips begin to spark. "GROUND BLAAaarrggh!" Mr. Big cries out as his chestmeats are made into hamburger by the insanely quick staff barrage. Thrown backwards by the cumulative force of the attack, the bald gangster barely manages to turn the backwards slide into a back shoulder roll that carries him into a crouch. "I'm going to fucking kill you." Mr. Big growls in anger.
"Losin' your cool, Big?" Billy taps his staff upon one shoulder, one hand within the pocket of his pants. "I woulda thought you'd want to establish a pecking order. Why don't you shove around a few of your wannabe hos, huh? Because in this room...!" Rushing forward again, Billy places his staff upon the ground and vaults forward with the additional leverage, flashing through the air quickly in an attempt to kick Mr. Big in the face. And totally bust his stylish sunglasses in the attempt. "YOU'RE MY BITCH!" He'd remain within close range thereafter, but it would seem to be intentional rather then accidental. Certainly proving that there's no weakness in offense. And, more importantly, he's slacking off. No longer possessing that edge -- falling into flashy overconfidence. Whether such can be taken advantage of, however...
Raising his batons to try and catch Billy's proffered extremity, Mr. Big misjudges the Brit's speed once more and the kick to his face snaps his head back and sends him down to one knee. "Fuck you." Mr. Big says simply as he spits a wad of blood at the Second in Command, both blood and malice dripping from his mouth liberally.
"You already give up?" Billy seems to tell that Mr. Big's becoming little more then reckless. Such opportunities are not taken in any genuine fight, after all, stepping backwards and spreading his stance a moment. Leaning forward, grinning broadly, the bandana-clad figure smiles in a far too cheerful and forgiving fashion. Both limbs are draped along the length of his staff, resting across his shoulders. What's worse, he's not lying when the second is offered, in obvious pity. "Then tell me you are sorry, Mr. Big. Apologize for stepping out of line and I'll stop slapping you around like a little girl." And then he begins to laugh once more, enough that his guard is considerably dropped. Not continuing the attack, at least for the moment...
COMBATSYS: Billy takes no action.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Billy
"Heh....heheh..." Mr. Big begins to laugh eerily as blood streams from the corner of his lips and nose. "Ha ha ha! A l-little girl!" he utters as he begins to laugh harder. "A l-little girl like, aha ha, like Lilly?!" Clutching his side as he begins to howl with laughter, Mr. Big starts to pick himself up off the ground, his left arm holding his ribs tenderly.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big gains composure.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Billy
Like a slap in the face, Billy's expression stiffens, almost looking like he was physically hit. There's a sudden brutality in the man, as he surges towards Mr. Big and attempts to merely strike him in the chest with a rib-shattering kick, aiming to send him flying across the room. "You little son of a bitch--I'll fucking KILL YOU!!" This is rather reckless, and probably far from difficult to avoid, but it's apparent that Mr. Big struck a nerve. Whether this particular one a normal person would desire twinged is another matter entirely, yet the psychological edge is now: Mr. Big <-- Billy. But things are escalating between the pair to a rather dangerous level, to say the least. It's no longer a spar to establish who's the better man, is it...?
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big parries Billy's Strong Kick!
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Mr.Big 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Billy
Straightening suddenly as the brutal kick homes in on his chest, Mr. Big's laughter only raises in volume as his batons fly towards the foot and deftly deflect it away. The parrying motion of his batons rotating Billy's leg harmlessly away from Mr. Big's body, the Chrome Dome Don's laughter dies down, though the huge grin is still plastered on his face. Stepping in on Billy's body, Big shoots his batons towards the Brit's neck, hoping to use the opening garnered in his deflection to grab a hold of the slimy limey's skinny neck with his batons.
"Don't like that one much, didja?" he'll ask Billy through gritted teeth as he lifts him into the air by his neck, if he's able to grab a hold. "Nah, I didn't think you would," Big will then hopefully answer whatever choked response Billy has for him as he tosses the man over his head backwards to crash into the wall of the training room.
COMBATSYS: Billy fails to counter High Lift Throw EX from Mr.Big with Water Dragon Pursuit Cane.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Billy
Billy's no longer concentrating. Mr. Big managed to break his concentration, and it's showing; Using a countering technique was instinct, and in this case a poor choice. As the batons flit for his neck he attempts to slip his own staff before it, but is caught prior. And the grip is tight enough that even with adjusted leverage he doesn't manage to pry them off. And dutifully hurled through the air, Billy's shoulder crashes into the wall hard enough to break the mirror upon it, thudding upon his knees as fragments billow over his shirtless form. Breath is coming hard, but not so much from actual injury. "You crossed a line, Big..." He pushes himself up to his feet thereafter, shrugging his shoulders as a cascade of shimmering shards clatters on the matt. There's something dark in that glare, grip so tight upon his red staff that the knuckles are stark white. "...And I'm gonna make you pay for it!!"
"Yeah well," Mr. Big replies nonchalantly. "Crossing lines… that's kinda what I do." The proverbial spring back in Mr. Big's step, the Southtown Syndicate Lieutenant weaves foreword as he rushes in on Billy, the baton in his right hand lashing out with a backhanded strike aimed towards the Brit's jaw, then lunging in with his left leg and delivering a follow up blow aimed right at the man's nose.
COMBATSYS: Billy blocks Mr.Big's Medium Strike.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Billy
Twirling his weapon defensively at the advancing pseudo-pimp, each of the seeking strikes are deflected cleanly by Billy's own staff, both shafts slapping against his flesh harmlessly and far off base. Smoothly rushing forward thereafter, the end of Billy's weapon thrusts out in an attempt to catch Mr. Big within the throat and heft him up into the air, far enough that his legs would dangle a meter from the ground. "No... I don't think you get it..." is hissed out, teeth grit. "Maybe I'll fucking KILL you...!!" Assuming his assault prior went off, he'd slam Mr. Big back into the matt headfirst thereafter, letting out another of his trademark cackles in the midst.
COMBATSYS: Billy successfully hits Mr.Big with Hell Drop.
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Mr.Big 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Billy
"Hrrk!' Mr. Big gasps as he's speared under the chin by the staff and lifted into the air. "No... ...that's the difference between you and me..." he hisses through his clenched throat. "...you don't have the balls to kill-" he says just as he's slammed down face first into the mat. Groaning loudly as he rolls onto his stomach, Mr. Big lifts himself onto his hands and knees and slowly pushes himself up into a crouch. "...had enough?" he asks with a hoarse laugh, blood flecking off of his red-stained teeth.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big focuses on his next action.
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Mr.Big 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Billy
"...You really don't know me at all, do you?" Billy responds at the comment about him not having it in him to kill, looking almost on the verge of bursting out and laughing. "You think I wouldn't?! Well, what do I care? I've never trusted you, Big... Not one damn moment. And I don't need your damn respect!" The end of the staff points, rather accusingly, at the accosted crime boss opposite. "You'd slit Geese's throat in a heartbeat and take his seat. But that's not saying much, is it? Half the aspiring half-assed little shits in Southtown Syndicate would do that. But no..." Billy grins, almost sounding complimentary in a sick and twisted fashion. "None of them have the balls." Maybe one other. Maybe. "But you. I don't know what's ticking in that little head of yours..." A finger taps Billy's own skull, apparently in demonstration. "And I'd be surprised to get a slap on the wrist if I accidentally broke your neck!"
COMBATSYS: Billy drops his guard to recover.
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Mr.Big 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Billy
"Heh. So that's it, huh? You scared I'm gunna try and take out your precious papa Geese?" Mr. Big asks as he lowers the batons in his hands to his side. "Use your goddamn head man, why the hell would I go and do that? Geese spends most of his time sitting in his office making business calls, for fuck's sake! You think I want that? I like where I'm at. I got money, I got power, I got women... And unless Geese decides to mess with what I got, what I DESERVE! Well, I ain't got no reason to change the status quo." Walking closer to Billy as he talks, the hairs on the back of Mr. Big's neck begin to stand up curiously, almost as if a static charge is building up in the room.
"Hell... dealin with YOUR stupid ass is the only downside to this job, so far as I see it." The tips of the batons at Mr. Big's side begin to spark and crackle as he continues. "So if you're worried about anyone, you should worry about your DAMN self." A large arc of electricity suddenly springs to life between Mr. Big's batons as he lifts them and thrusts them at Billy's head! If the thick rope of electricity connecting both batons should touch Billy and break contact with each other, a large electrical explosion will detonate throwing the Brit backwards and possibly blowing out some of the windows in the training room.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big successfully hits Billy with Blaster Wave.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-------|=======\-------\1 Billy
"Is that so?" Billy doesn't seem to be quite buying that, at least completely. That he's Geese's bodyguard is undeniable, however -- and that means making sure the little hens laying eggs remain in line, if he has any duties at all. But unless it's some grand scheme, it's likely true. Risking a coup of Geese when you already got most everything you want? "Well, you better remember this fight good, Big... Since every time you backtalk me--I'll beat your ass down AGAIN!!" Shifting himself, Billy whirls his staff in a flash of flame, interposing itself before the lightning. Yet it pierces through, impacting just as desired and sending flickering tendrils of lightning through Billy's body as he's slammed into the already damaged wall behind, probably causing a hell of a lot of collateral damage. Oh, damn, that hurts. A lot more then he's going to let the crimelord know. He crashes on his knees, unable to control the spasms for a couple seconds and almost releasing his weapon. "Ghh... ghghhh... that the best shit you got?!" is hissed, getting up a bit woozily thereafter. Another almost cackle, singed mouth rubbed with the back of his hand as partially glazed eyes narrow. "You really do hit like a kid..."
COMBATSYS: Billy focuses on his next action.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-------|=======\-------\1 Billy
"Heh." Mr. Big says with a smirk. Sure there are many, many things he could say right now. Things like how if he ever wanted to hurt Billy, REALLY hurt Billy, then it'd be simple, oh so simple. Mr. Big doesn't exactly -like- hurting children, but he's done it before. And with his connections, well. It wouldn't be very hard to make it look like an accident. But Mr. Big -DID- just give that big speech about the 'status quo' and all, and well, that's one huge pile of shit that's not worth stirring right now. So he'll just settle with 'Heh' for now.
Well, not JUST 'heh'. Mr. Big isn't going to let the little momentum he's built this fight waste away now. Whipping one of his batons skyward, Mr. Big sends a flare of fiery orange chi racing across the training room mat towards Billy. Yeah. Remember this.
"Wait, what kind of kids have YOU been hanging around with?" Mr. Big asks simply.
COMBATSYS: Billy overcomes Ground Blaster from Mr.Big with Blazing Whirlwind Cane.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Billy
How far Billy would go if something happened to Lilly is not a question that many would want to find an answer to. Mr. Big at least saw the murderous intent from only a mild comment, and although the savage assault was a liability at the time -- well, he shouldn't make the mistake of Billy not going overboard if he truly felt she was threatened, or just for having the galls to joke. Get away with it once, maybe. Twice? Lucky to live. Third strike, you are out. And it seems the finale is at hand, surge of chi hurtling towards him. But kids he's been fighting? Well, maybe Big has him there. He hits a hell of a lot harder then any kid he's faced in ages.
"...Touche." Billy mulls, almost casually beginning to whirl his staff. Both ends burst into flames, and a huge pinwheel of scorching fire whirls into being, as large as the man himself. Mr. Big's own assault is consumed, whisking away into only motes, before Billy finishes gathering enough frenzy. "YAAAAAAAAAH!" And then he flicks out, a truly gargantuan fireball gouting through the air a couple meters broad and high, attempting to consume Mr. Big and end this fight! The mat and floor beneath burns away and is blackened. Hopefully Geese won't mind fixing these damages...
COMBATSYS: Billy successfully hits Mr.Big with Blazing Whirlwind Cane.
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Mr.Big 0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0 Billy
d"Crap," Mr. Big mutters as he sees the huge fiery cyclone thingy eat up his Ground Blaster and head right for him. Flexing his muscles and gritting his teeth, Mr. Big leans forward and attempts to weather the massive chi storm. After the burning attack passes, though Mr. Big is simply left laying on the charred mat, groaning softly as he blackened karategi smolders.
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big takes no action.
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Billy 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Mr.Big can no longer fight.
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Billy 0/-------/-------|
Panting a good bit, Billy walks over towards Mr. Big, trailing his staff behind him. Twirling it upon arriving beside his body, a vicious kick is offered towards the pimp's side, attempting to get him upon his back in order to strike the cane against his throat. And press down, rather hard. "You can leech off Geese all you want, Mr. Big. I don't give a shit if you coast his coattails the rest of your life. But there's a couple things about me you better learn from this, and for good. One, if you ever talk shit to me again... I'll beat your /ass/ again. Two, you *ever* even say my sister's name in earshot--" It would be with this the staff shoots down, to nail Mr. Big in the solar plexus and hopefully knock every ounce of wind from his stomach. "...I'll kill you." Resoundingly resolute in this. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Billy then spits to the side and begins to walk towards the elevators. Nothing's likely changed beneath the pair, yet he's somehow less angry about his loss to Iori! But his workout's gone far longer then he anticipated...
COMBATSYS: Billy has ended the fight here.
Log created by Billy, and last modified on 09:19:43 02/18/2007.