Description: The foolish Alan R. B. peddles drugs'n'weapons on Southtown turf! Billy disapproves. Alan smokes! Billy SMASH
Oh, Southtown back alleys, what won't happen within your depths? One could answer "Well, a member of the shadowy 'R' organization isn't going to horn in on the Southtown Syndicate's turf by dealing in drugs and illegal weapons without giving the necessary people a cut!" but then One would be grotesquely wrong, because that's exactly what's happening here!
The little black market shop is set up several dingy backturns in a godforsaken corner of this part of Southtown, ran by a man who certainly has character. Alan R. B., a relatively recent 'R' recruit, trades dollars, drugs, and sasses with some of the worst this area has to offer, doing business despite his obscurity here because of his SLASHED PRICES. (HINT: They're slashed because he doesn't have to cover kickbacks! Hoorah!) Of course, he doesn't belong here, and word is likely spreading to various Parties about his existence.
This really isn't Billy's business at all; Someone peddling the black market unauthorized is a matter for more mundane interests, but Alan happens to be a badass. The basic enforcers were intimidated rather then driving him off; Normally such a minor problem would be given to someone else higher in the chain, but Billy Kane just happened to be nearby when such deliberation was going down in eyesight. Contrary to popular belief, he's not actually lazy when it comes to extending an arm -- he just rarely offers it of his own accord, content to run the casinos and gambling industries and work what jobs Geese asks him to. Even a tiny ant gnawing at Geese's ankle shouldn't be allowed, and the best way to prevent such a resurgence is by stomping it out as a warning to others.
Conducive to that endeavor, there's a new figure approaching Alan's little makeshift booth of goodies. A man in blue leather and boots, white and crimson bandana holding back his blond hair. Upon the back of the jacket, clearly visible, is a cigarette crossed out. His mood has been incessantly sour since his defeat by Kain Heinlein, and any prospective customers -- even this far in the dredges -- instantly recognize and scatter before the Southside Syndicate's second in command.
He'd come to a stop only a couple meters before Alan, slipping his arms before his shirtless chest. "What the hell do you think you are doing out here?" is asked, tone holding that snappish quality of demand. It's a demand, and not an optional question... Not in the slightest!
When Billy nears the booth and everyone runs away as though Billy was somehow important around here, Alan just slips his left hand in his pocket and adjusts his sunglasses with the other. The motion sends a shower of sparks falling down from his hand, and a few crackles dance along the rings on his fingers. "I'm the hell doing business, and you're bad for it, apparently." His left hand comes up with a cigarette, which is immediately placed in the mouth and apparently lit just by him cupping his hand over it. No lighter appears to be in evidence.
Exhaling a puff of smoke from his nose, the man hooks his thumb back toward where he arrived. "There's a second-hand clothing store a few blocks down, maybe they'll give you a free shirt if you pout hard enough."
Oh. This guy has a hell of a lot of balls. That might be due to lack of recognition, but it might just be because Alan doesn't care. That sort of raw spirit and almost suicidal willpower can be respected by Billy in most circumstances, but not with such overt arrogance in this particular neck of the woods. It might be a /good/ thing Mr. Big wasn't the man who got this message first. "Understand you turned back a couple enforcers. You realize where you are peddling, don't you...?" The latter is stated with a more lethargic tone, Billy taking a half-step back and leaning away when the cigarette is procured and lit with the flash of a hand. "Put that out." There's a rather venomous and deathly cold tone to this, the man's eyes narrowing dangerously. Although the puffing seems to be keeping him at bay, Billy already waving a hand almost vigorously in front of his face. 'Reasonably' talking business is secondary to /that/, after all. A good thing Alan hasn't seen that logo on the back of his jacket, maybe... Some people are lingering to watch, at what they believe to be a safe distance. Mayhaps incorrectly.
Alan R. B. looks left, then right, leaning forward to glance down the alley. Finally he tilts his head back and stares at the sky for a while, before finally glancing back over his shoulder. "Well, good god damn, look at that." He returns to leaning, and puffs again. "I'm in Southtown. Man, I thought I was in Cincinnati. I'll be sure to remember that next time I want to set up." In Alan's case, it's hilariously a combination of both. He knows of the Southtown Syndicate and figured this guy was big news the way everyone cleared out, but as far as he's concerned he hasn't met too many people he can't take.
At Billy's request, Alan takes the cigarette out of his mouth and waves it in Billy's general direction for a while. "What, afraid you'll catch the cancers? Better not inhale any, you'll get a tumor in your lungs the size of a fist." He flicks it forward, where it lands in a dry spot and continues to smoke. Alan then proceeds to get out another cigarette and light it in the same fashion, shrugging as he looks at the first cigarette. "I tried."
"You've got one hell of a big mouth." Billy states, tone heavily nuanced in that prelude to an imminent exchange of assbeatings. Yet he's still trying to keep clear of the gouting cloud of smoke, which might seem comical to anyone not yet realizing just how serious a business that sort of deal is. And who exactly it's being done to. Snapping aside when the cigarette is sent forward -- even though it actually wasn't anywhere near him -- the bodyguard moves over and starts stamping on it like it's some kind of terrible wildfire about to spread. In this moment, it'd be easy to see for Alan. That sure is an almost comical sign on his back, complete with a tiny lit cigarette. He fans out his jacket as best he can, gritting his teeth distastefully; He can't stand even walking THROUGH a haze of smoke, this'll stink it up to hell! Turning back towards Alan, seething, he finds the R' agent... Putting another in his mouth. Enough's enough. "You goddamn--" What's said next shall be censored for the more sensitive viewers, as Billy snaps out his foot. The nearest stack of illicit goods goes flying, the Syndicate 2nd in command shooting out his hand in an attempt to grasp Alan by the throat and drive him into the wall behind. And, with any luck, strangle the breath from him. "Alright, you piece of shit. We'll do this the hard way!!" Such wouldn't actually hurt, and instead leave Billy rather open, but -- oh yeah. Things are officially GOING DOWN.
COMBATSYS: Alan has started a fight here.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Billy has joined the fight here.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Billy
"Hey, hey, that's valuablghlk-" Alan's not a large man, so it's easy to move him around aggressively when he's not expecting it, which he rarely does. Billy slams him against the wall, and the second cigarette falls out of his mouth to land flame-down into a puddle, extinguishing it. Even still, Alan doesn't look particularly intimidated, flexing his fingers before balling up both fists. A sheath of electricity crackles down from his sleeves, surrounding his hands. "Hhnh... hard way? Figure this'll be the easy way," he forces out, just before bracing his legs against the wall and snapping his left fist at the other man's abdomen. The chi around his hand hisses in the air as his fist flies.
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Billy with Jab Punch.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Billy
The strike lands rather cleanly, Billy leaning forward and grunting in pain. It's enough to make him take a step backwards and release the other man, but the ultimate result seems to be more an appearance of amusement then actual damage. His skin is reddened where the blow landed cleanly, but... well, it's not /quite/ a chip. "You're damn right this is the easy way." Migrating a few meters away from the other man, the staff-wielder scoops up the very thing that first caught the eye of Geese Howard. A lead pipe, slightly over a meter long. It's tapped against a palm, in apparent preparation. "This'll be more then enough to work your ass over real good..." He seems to be continuing to relent the offensive; Whether the relative lack of effect that shot had on him will influence Alan's tactics or not remains to be seen.
COMBATSYS: Billy takes no action.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Billy
Once Alan has a space to move, he quickly steps to the side and hops over his makeshift counter, dropping into a tight boxing stance with a small profile, hands still crackling with energy. It was a jab, of course Alan doesn't mind that it didn't hurt much! Once he's got some space he can be shown to do a lot of quickstepping in random directions, unusual for most of the boxers around. "What, you need a pipe? Psssh." The well-dressed man suddenly stabs his left hand out, snapping his fingers once. A bolt of lightning leaps from his hand, jumping straight toward Billy. "Strike!"
COMBATSYS: Billy negates Lightning Strike from Alan with Thrown Object.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Billy
There's actually a look of intrigue on Billy's face, as the boxing stance is assumed. It's pretty iron, and the additional chi is something new. He's got a raw and obviously harshly-defined street ability, but he's lacking that proverbial spark. The transient quality which rockets someone up to the upper tiers. Not quite as lucky as Billy perhaps, but he never let it get him down. "I don't need a pipe. I barely need one hand to deal with your type..." The rush forward is noticed, and the response is for a swift kick to be done of another contraband stack in Alan's direction. It interjects itself just prior to the crack, blowing apart the boxes and assorted items in a flicker. Billy lets out a "Whoooo!", skipping away from a small rain of ash. The pipe remains rested on his shoulder. Completely casual. "You really do gotta bit of bite to ya, huh? Shame you had to make your own rules... Might've gone far with ours." Oh, and the smoke thing, of course. There's some respect there, but certainly no mercy. Billy's playing around, a cat with a mouse. When he attacks, Alan will /know./
Alan's face falls a little when the TOTALLY HOT DRUG PRODUCT gets flashfried by his own bolt. He's going to have to pay for that pile! "Man, we don't have to follow any rules but our own." He comes at Billy in earnest now, coming low with a far heavier strike to the abdomen, the chi apparently flaring at a level appropriate to the power in the punch.
COMBATSYS: Billy interrupts Medium Punch from Alan with Medium Strike.
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Alan 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Billy
"Tch. You know, I respect that. Nobody tells me what to do. But the difference is..." As Alan advances smoothly, Billy finally moves. The enormous breadth of skill between the pair should be obvious in that motion, unleashing a vicious backhand across the boxer's face with that pipe. Mayhaps hard enough to literally dent it. The strike only glances his hip with a flicker of electricity instead, Billy flowing with supernatural grace in the follow through. "...I had to /earn/ it!! You, you're just some aspiring trash. And if you're lucky, you might get to start from the bottom." The pipe is twirled nimbly between his fingers, one of Billy's hands in his pockets. "Come on!!"
The hit knocks Alan right off his advance, causing him to nearly fall right over. He's still sent staggering hard to the left, one fist steadying himself on the ground, iron rings hitting the road with a sharp sound. He rises back to his feet and falls right back into his stance, one corner of his mouth just slightly turned up. "Then I guess I'm starting with you, huh?" Alan R. B. comes forward again but stops short, pulling both hands back then slamming them forward. "FLASH!" The electricity around his hands bursts into a large yellow circle, tendrils cracking around it and making it look something like a child's drawing of a sun.
COMBATSYS: Billy blocks Alan's Thunderhead.
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Alan 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Billy
"If you can beat me... You can have my place." Billy states with a laugh, thoroughly meshed in an arrogance that is infallible. It's meant to be the worst kind of taunt, swinging out his weapon as the flicker of energy arcs out. Such dissipates, some motes transmitting through the lead but barely sizzling his hand. And then Billy rushes forward quite abruptly, entire body blurring. The pipe scrapes on the ground in a hiss of sparks, before screaming up at... It's really hard to say. Billy's attacking, but where and in what manner is completely up in the air. Other then it's frightfully fast, and might be imminently painful. Is it quick? Is it slow? He won't know until he tries to move!
COMBATSYS: Alan dodges Billy's Deep Strike.
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Alan 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Billy
...And the vicious swipe seems to have been intended to find itself between Alan's legs. His entire body flows like a whip, cracking up an additional amount of strength with a snarl of effort. Whether he really meant to /aim/ there is questionable...
Unfortunately for Billy, Alan isn't where Billy was headed anymore. With surprising speed for a novice he darts to the left, quickly circling around to Billy's side, where he snorts to see the No Smoking sign on the jacket. "What place, the surgeon general's office? Tchhh." Right arm swinging wide, the boxer attempts to land a blow right on that sign.
COMBATSYS: Billy fails to interrupt Hook Punch from Alan with Deep Strike.
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Alan 0/-------/-======|===----\-------\0 Billy
There was an attempt to whirl around, and utilize the backspin to crack Alan within the knee likely hard enough to send his leg spinning off into the sunset. Yet he got slugged right in the middle of the partial bullseye, and it actually /hurt/ this time. Billy's pipe slips from his hand, clattering to the ground while he reaches behind to feel the singe marks. "Oh... So you wanna get humiliated?" Billy hisses, reaching into his leather vest and yanking out a disassembled staff. In a whirlwind it's put into one crimson piece, twirled around in a whirlwind of red before the end slams upon the ground. "Well, you just earned the assbeating of your life!!"
Alan R. B. skips back several steps as he finishes his punch, tightening up his stance. Lightning crackles from his hands down his sleeves, and curiously enough also around the boots which he hasn't actually attacked with at all. The totally stylish lightning bolt bang in front of his shade moves in wind that ISN'T EVEN THERE. "You say that like I haven't earned a lot of things in my life." He smirks annoyingly as the chi crackles around him, clearly taking some of his concentration to build.
COMBATSYS: Alan gathers his will.
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Alan 1/-----==/=======|===----\-------\0 Billy
"I doubt that you haven't. You're a scrapper. Bet you fought tooth and nail for everything you got, didn't you?" Billy then spreads his stance, beginning to spin his staff around in a whirlwind of flickering sparks and motes of fire, seeming to literally shimmer with a supernatural heat. His own clothing is dancing, in a suitably aesthetic fashion, as his eyes narrow and his smirk creases just a bit. "But a dogged will don't mean shit alone." Billy got his strength from having someone to fight for. He almost wonders if the same can be said of Alan, but -- no. He's someone who has nothing to lose. Must be why he's comparatively burned out... Ah, well. Too bad he's going to be in traction after this.
COMBATSYS: Billy gathers his will.
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Alan 1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\0 Billy
Now with a fresh crop of chi crackling around him, Alan comes back at Billy, flicking his right hand enough to shine a flash of silver at a suitably dramatic moment in Billy's internal monologue. He grins as he comes on. "Nest egg from my parents, actually. Lost most of it gambling." He throws an elbow as he comes on, instead of tossing out anything bigger like people usually do after that much focusing.
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Billy with Light Punch.
- Power hit! -
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Alan 1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\1 Billy
Apparently that fresh new jar of chi does the job, since Alan manages to sneak forward and land a rather vicious blow right into Billy's solar plexus, right where his prior sock was done. Hnngh. That man really knows how to work a body, doesn't he? Maybe if he hit a bit harder. And a bit faster. And didn't fold like a cheap chair. Ah, well; He shouldn't jeopardize his own health to entertain the other guy, that much is obvious. "Too bad you didn't do it here." Billy would of got a nice cut. Ah well. "Alright. I'll end this now. You ready? You're about to take the hardest hit of your life." And then he simply arches back his weapon, stance shifting and eyes narrowing in preparation. Not just yet though... Oh no, not just yet!
COMBATSYS: Billy focuses on his next action.
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Alan 1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\1 Billy
Alan has raw skill and good training, no doubt about that. If his father had that Special Something, he'd've been one of the best fighters around, but he never quite got through that glass ceiling. Immediately after his elbow, Alan steps right back away from a normal man's reach (though not quite out of Billy's) and pulls his right hand back. There's a beat as chi focuses between his middle finger and thumb before his hand snaps forward again. "Strike!" He snaps, sending a bolt similar to the earlier one at Billy - but then his hand comes up again abruptly, firing out another one: "Twice!"
COMBATSYS: Billy interrupts Lightning Strikes Twice from Alan with Ifrit Crisis.
- Power hit! -
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Alan 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|-------\-------\0 Billy
And it seems the reason for the weapon being yanked back is apparent. Suddenly Billy hurls the weapon across the expanse between the pair, destroying the first mote of lightning. "HNNNGH!" Billy snorts, smacking Alan right in the face and probably bruising him. The second shot only grazes the bodyguard's shoulder, but Alan would see a suddenly unarmed Billy rushing forward, eyes clenched shut and literally pinwheeling his arms around randomly in an uneven run. "EAT MY ULTIMATE ATTACK!!"
Laughable, until Billy gets within arm's reach.
Out of nowhere he yanks free another crimson staff, assembling it in a heartbeat. The entire weapon flares with fire as he suddenly unleashes a veritable onslaught of strikes, hitting Alan about the stomach, shoulder, chest, face, swinging once in an attempt to kneecap, going again to dislocate an elbow, each leaving literal explosions in the wake. The air heats to an inhuman level. But then Billy rears the weapon backwards, disconnecting his weapon into what seems to be a long stream of myriad-connected pieces; And /slams/ Alan once into the air in a sweeping uppercut that obliterates the rest of his wares, before going right back down in a SWAT to flatten him, amidst a gargantuan gout of fire that roars meters into the air.
When it clears, Billy leans back, flexing his hand and huffing out. "Whew. So. What do you think?"
Interesting to note is that this is the first time Alan's ever fought someone beyond his level, not counting when Rugal trashed him for insulting his wardrobe, and the time Rugal trashed him for sassing the decor, and the time Rugal's cat trashed him just on general principle. Also the time Rugal trashed him for thinking that Alan was about to say something. THE POINT IS Alan's never had an actual fight with a superior opponent until now.
So it should come as no surprise that he's completely unprepared for Billy completely trashing the crap out him, leaving him bruised and battered and bloody, and finally burned up from the huge flame which knocks him spinning into a boarded-up glass window that was boarded from the inside. Alan falls down to slump against the wall in a shower of glass, barely on his feet. Miraculously his sunglasses and hair remain completely undamaged, as though they were cast in a perfect mold. Swaying, Alan takes several crushed cigarettes from his pocket and casts them aside before drawing out a slim phone and a whole cigarette. He flips the phone open and hits a button on it, then casting it aside as though it was no longer important. He lights the cigarette and manages to take a single drag before dropping to a knee and coughing it out along with some blood. It's begun to rain, and Alan grimaces at his bruised face in a fresh puddle.
"Shit goddamn, man, that was some moves." The boxer pushes back to his feet and brushes off his pants, then clenches his fists. Electricity courses up his arms. "But don't think I'm just going to... take that and walk away without showing you my best!" Alan takes two steps forward before leaping at Billy, red light flaring around him as he balls both fists together and suddenly spins toward the Southtown heavy, rolling like a log through the air. "MJOLNIR!" The 'R' rookie's hands suddenly whip out in a vicious axehandle that coincides with a great peal of thunder and a wave of thundering chi at the top of Billy's head.
COMBATSYS: Alan can no longer fight.
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Billy 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Billy counters Mjolnir from Alan with Fire Dragon Pursuit Cane.
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Billy 0/-------/-----==|
The tenacity to actually take out another cigarette is what smothers any apprehensions that Billy had when it comes to putting down Alan. He obviously needed a wakeup call to be so overtly creating trouble in Southside, after all. His second staff rests lightly on a shoulder, observing the advance with narrowed eyes. "Well, you gonna show me or not?!" And then Alan comes as desired, in a rather bizarre-looking onslaught. Yet his staff thrusts up, catching both hands cleanly. This is not nearly as easy as it looks. Billy skids back two meters, arms almost buckling as the crack of electricity and thunder roars over his head. Teeth grit, but by a slim margin he thrusts him back. It was not easy, but it looks like his own brute force won out. And while Alan is vulnerable and his pride likely in shambles, Billy disconnects his staff and begins wailing on his already battered form amidst a cackle. A few strikes to the chest end with a vicious downwards blow to the boxer's face, connecting the weapon thereafter and twirling it to settle behind. "I think you learned Southtown street justice now, didn't you?" Billy spits a bit of blood to the side, glancing over the smoldering remains of the R's aspiring black market business.
Really, after a while none of it even mattered, as Alan was completely goddamn unconcious by the first hit. The rest of the blows just move him around and maybe break a bone or two, but ADVANCED "R" MEDICAL CARE will have him up and going in no time. Speaking of 'R', what was that cell phone supposed to do?!
The question is answered a few moments later when the loud thwupping of a helicopter breaks the steady beat of the rain. A small black helicopter suddenly looms into view above the alley. A few ziplines drop down, and men dressed in black ('R' doesn't have a good minion uniform) drop down, one of which gathers Alan while the other glances at the goods Alan had with him for anything salvageable. Lol, no. Without actually even looking at Billy, the two men quickly give one tug on the line, shooting back up before they can get totally trashed since they're just ratio .5. If Billy didn't realize Alan's actual alleigance, he probably does now.
Billy actually goes over Alan's body almost immediately, trying to snatch any cash or cigarettes he might have. As his cut, of course. He might only have ten seconds of such groping before a helicopter descends, Billy backing off and squinting upwards. And indeed the figures are recognized with raised eyebrows, and Alan might have gotten his employer in some amount of trouble. "So Rugal's pushin' in on Southtown...?" is mulled to the sudden silence, no move made to interfere -- and potentially make things worse. Letting out a sigh, the staff is taken back apart and stuffed into his leather jacket, white and red bandana smoothed in the pattering rain. Things could be getting interesting...
Log created on 23:54:03 02/27/2007 by Alan, and last modified on 03:09:48 02/28/2007.