Description: Rock and Roy storm Geese Tower. Hilarity (!?) ensues.
Rock's been feeling one of those adolescent fogs. He's had an incredible run of luck. He's experienced in the last two weeks more success than he ever thought imaginable. He stumbled into the SNF Championship thanks, in so small part, to a gun-for-hire named Yamazaki. He continued his winning streak in the Neo League, taking down his on-again-off-again teammate, Acacia. Yet, all this success? It's felt hollow and empty.
Living in Southtown, Rock can't take more than twenty steps in any direction without seeing some sort of token and reminder of his father. Be it Geese Tower looming on the horizon, a horizon he thinks he owns, or Howard Arena blocking off a solid four city blocks? Rock can't escape it. And it's been almost a week now, a week since he made international headlines -- since he got what he thought he needed to show his father that one undefinable thing he feels he needs to prove. But what has the response been from the Halls of Howard? Silence.
Rock knows it's a purposeful cloud. The lack of information, of even a stray light along the Penthouse to show that maybe, just maybe, his father was aware of the accomplishment is all a part of the puzzle. But Rock is sick of it. He's sick of the game. It didn't take him long, hanging out at the new Youth Center, to run into Roy again. It only took a few words of his plan -- storm right into the lobby of Geese Tower, march into the elevator, and ride that bullet tube straight into Hell. In the least, Roy'd have a story to tell his friends back home.
They arrive, and Rock's got on a stone-etched face. His hands are jammed into his familiar coat, as he stomps right through the doorway -- not trying to hide his presence at all. The first person he encounters, he demands access to the Penthouse. "Call him. He'll let us up," Rock says. "I guarantee it."
Roy doesn't have the emotional attachment to Southtown that Rock has. He's still relatively new to the city, and his battles are much lower-stakes than Rock's own. Most of his time is spent drilling with his team or occasionally getting into low-key dust-ups on street corners and sandlots. He's not the big time. Not yet. Rock is, and Roy figures going along with him will let him learn the ropes of this crazy fighting game.
The one way to know what kind of man Geese Howard is is to see how he treats his son. If Geese is really the villain Kurow says, he'll see it here. If not, he'll have a better idea what kind of person Kurow is. Either way, Roy gains something.
Roy walks along with Rock, looking clean-cut and not at all hostile. He tromps along with Rock, figuring he'll know best. For now, Roy says nothing, taking in the lavish tower. This place is pretty awesome.
Up in the penthouse office of Geese Tower, the owner of the structure was just in the midst of talking business when an understandably nervous-sounding person opened the door to interrupt the conversation. There was a slight tremor to the voice that announced the arrival of Rock Howard to the inhabitants of the room. A brief glance was given to Geese before Ryuji Yamazaki let a wide grin spread across his lips. "I'll handle it, boss." One glove-clad hand comes up to wave the person away before the Lieutenant turns to the door and lets himself out.
The hard heels of his dress shoes can be heard clicking as he walks down the hallway, hands stuffed into their pockets and a slight swagger to his step as he walks to the Atrium that houses the area before Geese's rooftop office. Before the visible bulk of Ryuji is visible, Rock can probably hear that familiar hyena-like laughing; one of the few trademarks of the Orochi-blood that doesn't involve breaking people in half, and he will continue laughing until he's walked right up to the pair that's arrived. "Well, I'll be fucked. Someone gives you a fancy little belt and you go around swingin' yer tiny ass around like you're cock of the damn walk!" A low chuckle rumbles in his throat for a moment. "You're welcome. Useless little shit." He lifts a hand up, then snaps his fingers before turning away. "Boss'll see you. You walk behind me." With that, Yamazaki slips his hands back into his pockets and starts to walk towards the office.
Let them up? The security does indeed let them up. It's not as though the hired thugs on most of the floors could do more than delay Roy and Rock, anyway. Most likely in a protracted, multi-stage slugfest of pugilistic repetition, interspersed with the occasional goon of consequence. It's the one thing the Metro crew never learned. Sometimes it helps to start with the asking, and move to the hitting from there. It's just... more efficient.
Which isn't to say the journey up Geese's private rooftop elevator, where he has the pair directed, isn't lengthy. There's the eternal ride up the sheer side of the tower of concrete that is this monument to Geese's greathood and vast success, in the glassed-in elevator that runs up the very outside of the tower. There's a more secure option for Howard, as needed, but this is the scenic route. And it gives Geese time to make his way from his business office, to the roof. He hadn't expected Rock to come so soon, but he's well aware of his son's expressed intents. When Yamazaki opens the doors to the rooftop, Howard is already there, seemingly meditating on the Southtown cityscape, at the fine hardwood rail bordering the edge of the roof across from the entrance. One powerful hand rests on that railing, Howard's icy gaze remaining out over teh cityscape.
He smiles as he hears his 'company' arrive. Who is this other boy? Geese can sense the power in him, remarkable much like his own son's prodigal talent. It brings an almost pleasant smile to Geese's face as he turns, nodding an almost solemn greeting. Restrained. Uncertain? Never, but there is a patient calm to it, "You've been making quite a name for yourself, Rock. Don't tell me it's convinced you to step up the timetable on your... 'vengeance'." The seeming warmth at seeing them fades to impassive sternness at the thought of Rock's recent threats. Is it all an act? Well, in Rock's world, figuring that out is probably part of the game, too.
In the elevator ride up, Rock exhales a tense breath. "Look," he says, glancing sidelong over at Roy. "I know we've only met, like, twice in our lives. But we've got a lot in common. We're a lot alike. And after you've fought someone like we fought; you know everything there is about them. I know I can trust you."
Rock turns back to watch the numbers tick. With over fifty stories, it takes awhile -- even in the hyper-advanced elevator Geese has to his top floors -- to get there. After a few more seconds of awkwardness, Rock adds. "If you wanna back out at any time here, just go. I won't hold it against you. But if you don't?" He cracks a grin, holding his fist out to Roy for a pound just as the elevator dings and the doors start to slide open. "I'll never forget you did this with me."
Bromwell might not know the stakes, or at least, the baggage associated with an uninvited visit like this -- not like Rock does -- but Howard is hoping he'll appreciate the words. Friends you can trust are a rare thing in Southtown. Everyone has their own agenda. It's not a surprise that Howard's gravitated towards a foreigner, an outsider, for companionship. Everyone else smells of his father.
As they step out of the elevator, Rock's back immediately goes cold and straight. The sweat clings to the t-shirt beneath his coat, his eyes locking onto Yamazaki. "That--that's the guy," Rock says to Roy. "He's the one who helped me win the title. I..." His eyes thin. "I didn't know you worked for /him/, Yamazaki."
It all immediately starts to make sense. His victory over his Uncle, Yamazaki's seemingly illogical refusal to attack Rock in the fight, despite his Chaos Agent status. It was probably all orchestrated by the man behind the double-doors. But what's Rock to do? His confidence already fading, what's he gonna do? Run back down the stairs, out into the street? The solution is any teenager's defense. Sarcasm and sass, as he marches down the hall for the roof with the man.
"Yeah, 'thanks', Yamazaki. You were great at getting in the way of my Raging Storm. You can go marginalize yourself somewhere else now, I've got an appointment with my father."
And there it is. It's been several years since Rock put foot to stone on the expansive Tower's rooftop. Nothing has changed. Not even that smug, uncertain, expression -- unreadable -- on his father's face. "Hey, /dad/," Rock says, petulant and proper. "I just came to make sure you knew."
"Your mouth is bigger than your ego, you pint-size shit-stain. If it weren't for me, Kain would have wrecked you." Another low chuckle passes Yamazaki's lips before he shakes his head. "Enjoy the title while you have it. It'll be the shortest reign in the belt's history." With that, he just walks right past Rock, pacing lazily over towards where Geese has settled himself. He stands a few paces away, smirk ever-present on his lips as he quiets himself for the inevitable teenage angst.
The cackling puts Roy ill at ease. That isn't a wholesome noise. On some level, Roy senses evil -- but he is a guest in a strange place with bad company. He needs to be on his guard and not make any wrong moves. The swearing grates against Roy's relatively clean speech, but again, he is a guest. Guests should not complain at the hospitality of their hosts. It isn't done. Don't start an incident.
Roy looks to Rock. He listens to what he says and feels the gravity of the situation, even if he doesn't understand it. He doesn't have anything to say back. Roy's steady gaze and the short nod he gives is sufficient. Roy is all in. Whether he wants to be or not.
The elevator ride is uneventful. Roy is impressed with the tower, not being accustomed to such large structures. It is a beautiful building, well designed and showing the signs of the opulence that is associated with the Howard name. Roy can appreciate this sort of thing, also being from the moneyed classes. He doesn't quite get the thing between Rock and Yamazaki, not accustomed to Howard-level tomfoolery. Isn't that all just TV?
Roy straightens up a little more when Geese looks at him, more out of a desire to look good to an Important Person rather than fear. He doesn't seem to have any particular hostile intent toward Geese, despite what he's been told. Geese has never done anything to him, and having rude underlings isn't a capital offense. For now, his task is to keep his ears open and his mouth otherwise shut. Rock will take the lead from here. Things should become more obvious in a few moments.
Do I introduce myself? Roy thinks. Does Rock introduce me? Am I going to get an introduction at all? What is the deal here, really? Roy has questions but few answers. He senses it is not his time to speak yet.
Friends aren't something Geese sees a lot of, when it comes to his son. Either Rock hides them, or he... simply doesn't have many. Roy could be an argument for either case, but he's notable enough for Howard to size up slowly as he accompanies the SouthSynd boss' son out onto the roof. Rock may not voice his concerns to Geese immediately, but really... the elder Howard is used to that. The emotional, reactionary response tells the master martial artist about all he really needs to know about Rock's current mindset, "So fueled with anger, that you believe your triumph on television, and the cries of the crowd." Geese pushes off the railing gently and strides forward several steps. Testament to his preparation, or perhaps training before this meeting, Howard is already clad in his trademark Hakama, in deep navy blue. A loosely tied white gi shirt flutters in the breeze, and his customary bracers are in darkest navy, with silver dragons etched along their length.
Howard's arms cross, and he meets Rock's gaze steadily, "And now you no doubt wonder if it was all my doing to begin with, because you still don't realize I am not your enemy." At this, Geese is less unreadable, and more 'genuinely' frustrated, perhaps even mournful. Ask him to tell you the story of Rock's mom's death. Heartwrenching. The poor, poor maligned Geese. He does what he has to do, "I couldn't have known Kain would wager his title on that match. You must be making quite an impression." That brings a knowing glint to Geese's cool eyes. But by now, Rock should know he's being followed, and often watched. It's all for his own good. Of course, Yamazaki -did- have standing orders against Kain, didn't he?
"You were in the right place at the right time. Enjoy it." It's not the most involved or enlightening fatherly advice, but there's a wisdom in it... at least, if you're Geese. Or perhaps have enough of that family instinct in your veins, "Or are you here to take offense at the circumstances of your impressive performance? I have no doubt you and your friend could give quite a show of it." Geese doesn't seem intimidated by this fact, despite the precarious fall he's enjoyed twice before. But then, Yamazaki is here... and we all remember what happened with Rock's last challenge.
Roy can probably hear Rock's teeth grinding against themselves when Geese starts striding towards them and speaking. The flush of scarlet up the back of his neck doesn't do much to hide his growing anger, either. Luckily, his hands are still jammed impossibly deep into his coat pockets. Yamazaki and Geese can't see how tightly they're squeezed.
"No," Rock says, shaking his head. "No, no," he continues, pulling a hand out of a pocket and swiping the fist down through the air in a dismissive manner. "You're not allowed to do this. Not again. You're not allowed to play the high and mighty Geese Howard card, like you /wanted/ this all for me, like you're proud of me... Like this is what it's all been leading up to!"
Rock takes a pair of steps towards his father. He stops when he's close enough that he can see the man's eyes clearly. "I'm not gonna let you do this to me again. You're not taking this moment away from me! I /earned/ this moment. I came here for /this/ moment. I came here to tell you, man to man, that I /earned/ this respect, dad, I /earned/ it by fighting, by training, by working. Every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears is /mine/. I did it all WITHOUT you. For the /first/ time..."
Rock slams his fist into his other hand's palm. "It was all /me/. And you know what that means?" Rock breaks into a crooked grin. A perfect mirror; they always say when he grins he looks so much like his father. "It means that I don't need you anymore, old man. I don't need you ever again. You? You're dead to me."
Roy thinks he's pretty clever. He gets straight As in school and even aced calculus this year. Roy reads the Wall Street Journal every day and makes sure to watch Fox News Channel every night. He's well informed! He knows all the major political figures in America. That's enough for him.
But Roy is out of his depth on this one. He is vaguely aware of Geese's appraisal and tries to make sure he doesn't look too nervous. It isn't fear so much -- it's the desire to look good in front of a fellow rich guy who he hasn't met before. Is Rock ever going to introduce him? Honestly, Rock! You were raised better than this.
Roy doesn't get most of the menacing subtext behind the conversation. It sounds like Geese is at least trying to help out Rock. Maybe Rock's just troubled. Roy wishes he could find some way to figure out what was really going on here. His American blood compels him to want to do a dangerous unilateral adventure to sort things out.
Rock advances while he rants at his father. Roy stays put. This is awkward. This feels like a private family discussion. Why is he here? Is this some sort of bizarre setup for this week's SNF? He glances around, looking for cameras.
Rock's hands may be hidden, but there's no hiding the tension that carries up his arms. Or in his expression. Geese simply holds his gaze for a long moment, perhaps as long as Rock is willing to meet those appraising eyes Geese levels on him, perhaps only long enough to pace to the side, speaking as though in passive consideration, "You look to a spectacle like that to tell you how far you've come as a man? As a warrior?" Howard's blonde brow quirks, and he looks from Roy, to Rock, and back to Roy, "I've rarely seen you participate in any such events, but I would be willing to wager you could give my son a run for his money." Either Geese is impressed with what he sees in Roy... or he knows more than he lets on. Roy may not have been seen /much/, but Howard puts his considerable resources mostly into tracking the what's what and who's who in the fighting world.
"What have you earned?" Geese asks, turning back towards Rock. He can concede that point... almost, sort of, "You defeated Kain without me. But do not presume a television 'championship' he dangles in front of you proves anything. You have Yamazaki to thank, if nothing else." Howard folds his arms and clenches his jaw thoughtfully as he turns once more to gaze out over Southtown, "You still look in the wrong places for approval. Heinlein will lead you down a dark path, and it will consume you as surely." A bluff? Geese certainly /sounds/ serious, "And the cameras love their heroes. They do not reflect yourself. You still reject all that I could teach you? I have shown you the truth, Rock."
Geese's brow sets firmly, and his visage hardens, "Heinlein set you up for this, to further his own aims. We have many enemies, and your unthinking hatred leaves you a pawn."
Rock feels like a tremendous weight is off his shoulders. Just saying those words to his father is liberating. Severing ties, clean and through (at least in his mind), is exactly what he's needed to do. His advancement as a fighter was just the modus operandi to gain the confidence to finally stand up like this to his father. He brought Roy because he doesn't trust the man. Geese never lets anything he owns go without a fight.
Taking a step back, Rock looks back over at Roy, tracing Geese's appraisal towards the other teenager. He's losing face here. Geese is too good of a politician; he's too charismatic. Rock motions at Geese. "Roy Bromwell, meet the 'illustrious' Geese Howard," he says, the contempt literally oozing off his voice. He looks back at Geese. "Roy's a huge fan. I brought him here because I wanted to dispell the myth for him. Just one more person who can see you--" Rock looks at Yamazaki, like the fact that Geese employs that psychopath would be enough evidence of his meaning, all housed in a simple glance. "--For what you really are."
Rock looks back at Roy, but he's clearly meaning the words for Geese. It's a typical father son manuever; only Roy isn't a relative or peacekeeper. He's an American-fueled killing machine. "When he talks of /truth/, he's talking about how he murdered my mother -- the sister of the same man he now says put me up to all of this. That's what the honesty of my father gives you."
Roy's grin when Geese addresses him may indicate that he and Rock have mixed it up at some point in the past. Sure, Roy didn't come out ahead on that one, but he learned some things about his own weaknesses and was able to put up a good showing. Victory is less important at this stage in Roy's development than gaining additional self-knowledge. And impressing powerful fighters. Maybe Rock will introduce him to Terry Bogard one of these days so he can get some authentic training rather than just watching fight DVDs over and over again to mimick moves.
But as much as Roy would like to answer, he thinks he's here as an audience member. He acknowledges Geese with a nod but doesn't speak -- but FINALLY Rock introduces him. That gives Roy the opening he's so desperately craved. His good manners were starting to press on him like a physical weight.
"Hello, sir," Roy says, and barely gets through 'sir' before Rock starts in again. He seems embarassed at Rock's blunt handling of the situation, but he's just going to have to trust him. Man, is he in over his head. It's a good thing Boman's not here. He'd really be freaked out.
Roy looks at Rock as if he'd said something impossible, like he asked him for a Diet Pepsi.
Howard's attention is only briefly drawn back to Roy at the introduction. Bromwell is certainly interesting, but well... Rock's rant is much, much harder to miss.
"What I really am." Geese frowns, stepping off to the side, his eyes still seemingly captivated by the view of Southtown. His voice drops low, and he sighs a deep breath, "Look at those close to Heinlein. You can see the corruption as clear as I. He seeks my death, and you are only a tool to that end." Geese knows enough about Kain to feel it a comfortable gambit, even is his son is enamoured of the man. ... what is it with these pretty, pretty blondes. It's easy to see the bond. Heinlein does, after all, resemble Marie so closely.
"He will tell you what will fulfill those goals. He seeks to make you strong, as did I, and I suspect you will find his methods less... accomodating." Saying something, given the harshness of training under Geese Howard. Then again, it could all be lies, "You are my son, yet you take the strength I have helped you attain and seek to destroy me for it. It is you who should question your path... I loved your mother." At one point, anyway. Mostly. "I would never have hurt her, and were you not using delusions to fuel your anger, you would know that." The murderers'
[OOC] Geese says, "oops"
The 'murderers' are, after all, quite executed by now. "You ask me to release you from your training. I refuse. You are my son, and I will not turn my back on you the way as you do to me." Geese's jaw once more clenches, his expression rather resolute indeed, "If you wish to aid those who would destroy me, I cannot stop you from choosing that path." Of course, Howard offers no promises of where it ends, "If you are so set on proving yourself, then do so now." Geese turns back towards the pair, frown intact, "You -and- your friend. One by one. That will give you time to breathe in between lessons." No, Rock doesn't get to walk away.
Rock falls quiet, his red eyes tracking Geese as the much larger man moves across the rooftop. Resignation settles onto his face as his father's words hit, each one banging into him with as much force as several rounds with Kain or Grant in the forest. It's hard to not fall back into the thrall of Geese; the charisma exudes out of him. He's a leader of men. That much, nobody can claim otherwise.
But Rock knows what he knows. Delusions or not, he knows what he believes. He believes that this man is a very bad person. He knows that he loved his mother very much. And he knows that he needs to move past all of this. He needs to be his own man and that will never happen with Geese's crushing shadow.
Hearing Geese talk about his mother, it just makes Rock that much more angry. "You don't deserve to talk about her," Rock says, his voice going soft. He treats Marie Heinlein like a fallen Saint. She was the most important person in his life. "The only person you've ever loved is yourself. But if the only way I can ensure you are /done/, the only way I can ensure you are /out/ of my life is to defeat you?"
Rock immediately shifts his weight into his usual fighting stance. He still uses a hybrid of the lessons Geese taught him years ago. It's hard to go against genetics and years of psychological encoding. Fingers curling, leather gloves pulled tight in his grip, Rock looks at Roy. "Roy, listen to me. This man only understands one language. It's a language you and I? We speak it really well. But listen to me when I tell you -- he'll never let me be free until I defeat him. I've gotta be my own man. I need your help. Are you with me?"
Rock turns back to Geese, letting Roy answer with his actions. The kid will either jump in or disappear back down the elevator. Either way, Rock knows his path leads straight into the iceberg that is Geese Howard. The Titanic cannot dodge it's own destruction.
COMBATSYS: Rock has started a fight here.
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Rock 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Geese has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Rock 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Geese
Rock, Roy thinks, just what the heck did you drag me into?
There's talk of murder, of betrayal, of the kind of stuff you see on Lifetime made-for-TV movies. This is a whole other set of circumstances from the life Roy Bromwell knows. Roy is from a world of school, and football, and barbeques, and being able to beat evil with teamwork and love. Nobody died when they fought Hyo.
But now, Roy's found himself graduated up to the high-stakes table without having a chance to so much as call his mom or have one last platter of cheeseburgers and waffle fries. This is it. This is the point of no return. Is he ready for this? Maybe, maybe not, but Roy knows he's only got one choice.
"These colors don't run," Roy says. And that's all that needs to be said.
Roy doesn't move to jump in yet, but he's not backing off either. Rock needs to beat his old man. Maybe he's got to do it solo. Maybe he'll call him in. But it's not Roy's place to start the fire. Like America itself, it's his place to finish it -- if he has to.
Fio has arrived.
COMBATSYS: Roy has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
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Rock 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Geese
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Roy 0/-------/-------|
Well. Clearly Rock hasn't learned the most important lesson of all. It's practically a central key to the life of Geese Howard and his continued happiness. If you're going to have delusions, you may as well go for the really satisfying ones. Clearly, Rock isn't having any fun, "Ah, dear Rock." Geese's voice takes on a mild, melodic quality, intentionally singsong in deep tones, "You're my son, and I couldn't give up on you, could I? Whether you defeat me or not." And will Rock become the thing he hates most? More and more, it seems like he's on that path, to Geese. It's almost entrancing, like playing chicken with a train at night.
... pity the youngest Howard wasn't a better heir, but time is something Geese still has in abundance. At least as far as he's concerned. Remember those delusions? "You squander everything you've been given!"
This time, Howard doesn't wait for Rock to prepare, or launch an attack. He doesn't bait, or hold back. No, the Syndicate boss is forward in a flash, his rather solid stance shifting only slightly before the moment of attack. He weaves in, a deadly palm held in a configuration perfect for striking a series of nerves, a series Rock would be familiar with, lashing out at chest level.....
COMBATSYS: Rock blocks Geese's Raimei Gouha Nage.
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Rock 0/-------/------=|===----\-------\0 Geese
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Roy 0/-------/-------|
The palmstrike quickly flips, but unfortunately for Geese... Rock does not move to negate the attack. Even so, Geese's open palm lashes across for his son's wrist, and substantial twisting and leverage is applied to send the younger Howard up and around. ... alas, the crashing reunion with the rooftop, timed to a tremendous column of explosive, bolting chi through Rock's very being, are experiences for another time.
Rock has logged more hours sparring and watching his father fight than anyone else in the world. Even some of Geese's closest associates haven't actually been in there, with the man, as much as the youger Howard. While there are a multitude of techniques Rock hasn't mastered or adapted from his father's fighting style, the Raimei Gouha Nage isn't one of them. No, the nerve strike into chi murder is one Rock's very familiar with.
Bracing, his entire body tenses, his eyes widening, as Geese explodes forward. Even with so many years on the younger Howard, Geese moves like an unrestrained lion. It's lightning fast. It takes everything Rock's got to read the move, take a half a step back, and then swing both of his forearms down across his chest. Geese's palm thrust slams into his arm, leverages, and Rock goes corkscrew spinning back from his father. He orbits through the air several times, somehow manages to main his equilibrium, and lands a half-dozen yards away in a skidding one-legged crouch. He allows himself a labored exhale. That happened fast.
Too fast. Rock can't use his usual strategy against his father. The man is prepared for that; he's better at the defensive game than Rock. No, Rock knows he'll have to push hard. Catch his father in one of his very rare moments of weakness. Those only happen when you push him. Breaking out of the crouch in a full sprint, Rock pounds the rooftop. One, two, three times with his feet, and then he leaps. Hand rearing back, he comes straight in at Geese from above, extending knuckles that ignite in a plume of chi at his full extension.
COMBATSYS: Geese dodges Rock's Rage Run Dunk.
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Rock 0/-------/-------|===----\-------\0 Geese
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Roy 0/-------/-------|
Roy stands fast and watches the battle. He doesn't have any real conception of what it is to fight Geese Howard. He knew that Geese liked to fight. He didn't really know --
Rock gets chucked into the air like a rag doll. Jumping Jesus Christ! Roy takes a half-step back out of reflex when he sees it, the wind whipping across the rooftop again reminding him just how far up they are. They're going to be fighting like this /on top of a building/. The world has gone mad. If they fall off...I mean, they'd die.
Get it together, Roy, this is the big time. He snaps his game face on and starts mentally preparing for that kind of damage to come his way. For now, he remains out of the fight, watching it with intensity. This is like watching a tornado bearing down on you across the prairie. In America.
Geese almost smiles as Rock deftly rolls with the throw, evades one of Howard's older and nastier attacks. And yes, his back is still rather close to the summit, so to speak. Geese doesn't bother to move away as Rock rights himself, sheer arrogance or confidence... you decide. Instead, his cool gaze tracks his talented son's charge, but as Rock lurches upwards, Geese lunges aside. It's a singular, efficient motion, one foot striding and carrying him clear of the powerful, archrival-inspired descent, "Hmph. You do love to rely on that style. More delusions... if you think Bogard's legacy is black and white, you're in for more of a shock than from Heinlein."
Only then does Geese move, forward in another palmstrike. This one is forward, no pressurepoint gimics, just enough force thrusting underhand at Rock's ribcage to potentially rob him of breath. Of course, distance from the edge -is- prudent, and Geese lunges forward, reversing sharply to slam an elbow in at a point just two inches higher, the lowest point of Rock's solar plexus. It's a blow that could crush the chest of a normal man, indeed... almost perfectly measured, as if it might have snuffed out even Rock with just a little more force. At least, that's the impact Howard intends to leave, if he lands the first two sharp blows, the brutal composition concludes with a simple, stomping forward motion. Both hands come around in a swift, impossible to follow kata before flying for Rock in the same fluid motion. The explosion of chi would not be visible, this time, but it would all but ripple the air about Geese, and send Rock back rather painfully should he be caught in the maelstrom of invisible, concussive force centered around his father's strike.
Push /him/? Rock forgets how this test -works-.
COMBATSYS: Rock fails to counter Combo Throw from Geese with Joudan Crack Counter.
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Rock 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Geese
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Roy 0/-------/-------|
Rock is becoming increasingly immune to taunts and temptations about his chosen favorite fighter, Terry Bogard. His idol, he knows, isn't perfect. He's watched Terry lose more times than he can count. That's not why he respects him so much. He respects Terry because the man always gives it his all, never lies or masks his intentions, and most importantly? He always gets up for more.
These words ring in Rock's ear as he shifts his balance, red eyes trailing Geese's movements, his arm tucking back towards his body where he can try and use it for a protective cushion. But it all happens so fast. The extension of his version of the Power Dunk crackles around his knuckles, just as Rock realizes Geese is a solid three feet outside his arm-span. By the time he's got his arm half-tucked back towards his side, his father is slamming his palm into his ribs. The air explodes out of his throat in an audible gasp.
The rest happens just as fast. Rock is hammered back by the elbow, toes lifting inches off the ground as he sails backwards. Completely out of control, the final culmination of the combo accelerates into and through him. It rockets Rock back at a ridiculous velocity, his back slamming into the railed edge of the Tower with a bonecrunching crack.
Winded, shocked, and most of all, unable to stand... Rock falls to his knees, panting for breath, one fist smashed agaisnt the rooftop, the other clutching his burning lungs.
Roy, well, thinks Terry Bogard is cool. But if you say bad stuff about Terry, that's on you. Roy's job isn't to stand up for the man. Only Kyo fans are like that, and those guys get shoved in garbage cans. Roy has personally shoved some of them into garbage cans, so he knows.
Roy is stunned at how fast Geese has dismantled Rock. Rock and Roy battled for what seemed like a week before Rock finally was able to put Roy down. Geese has completely demolished Rock in less than 20 seconds. Roy is /history/ if he tries something --
You don't get a choice, Roy. This is the fourth quarter, it's the two minute warning, and you're down by a touchdown. Balls out or not at all. It's time ... to get retarded.
Roy jumps from his spot, sailing up through the air. He lands down in front of Rock, going into a defensive stance. His hands are already sweating. He can tell when the train pulls in, it's not just going to be the crosstown express -- it's going to be an old-school diesel engine, and he's gonna get dragged behind it for a while.
"You're really tough," Roy says. "Where'd you learn those moves?"
Perhaps Roy's asking for a demonstration.
COMBATSYS: Roy focuses on his next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////// ]
Rock 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Geese
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Roy 0/-------/-------|
The end result wasn't really one that Geese ever questioned. Rock's fighting was predictable, in this emotional state... it's a point Howard has tried to drive home for his son's entire maturing life, but then... positive, reaffirming communication has never really been one of Geese's strong points. Instead, he just exploits the gaps, the desperate defense. Either Rock is floored, or he is momentarily halted by techniques he all but taught the prodigy how to use. Unlike many, Geese Howard does not fear his son's formidable defense. As Rock crumples backwards, his father does not press the assault. The veteran simply steps back, cracks his neck, and flexes his fingers downward, both arms flexing taut with the fluid motion.
So it is that Roy has no trouble interspersing himself between Rock and Geese, and Howard merely smiles slowly, a confident, entirely self-assured thing, "I may not be the best father. But I know this world, and my martial arts are the culmination of study... study of myself, of other warriors, of lost styles." It's a trace of a secret, enough to whet Roy's pallete, perhaps... or cement Geese's case. Others have been devoured in that search, but Geese seems to have a nack for avoiding the easy road, and finding the true gems. Dear old Tung, and aged masters like him. Ancient scrolls and technique diagrams. So delicious.
"Don't be so anxious, adrenaline isn't your enemy." Geese's smile dissipates, but he still seems cheery enough... this, after all, makes this exercise a challenge. So far, Rock is still not earning his A++ and diploma, "Meet it head on!" With that, two striding steps carry Geese to Roy, and he whips about in one sudden motion, a snapping roundhouse falling for the quarterback's collarbone with breathtaking force and precision. Of course, the cloth-wrapped heel would then snap back, straight in for the adam's apple. Who said fighting masters was fair?
COMBATSYS: Roy endures Geese's Strong Kick.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Rock 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Geese
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Roy 0/-------/--=====|
Rock slams his fist into the rooftop's floor again, frustrated that he's been so reckless again. He's let his father systematically take him down in fifteen seconds, just like the last time, in Howard Arena. The difference is what Rock is banking on. Eyes locking onto the back of Roy, Howard hopes that the spirit he felt in the other kid when they fought is true. He's got the Mark of the Wolves. He reminds him so much of Terry.
Pulling himself back up to his feet, Rock braces a hand against the railing. His eyes don't stop tracking Roy, trying to will his partner into making the decisions he thinks are right. Rock never seems able to capitalize on his knowledge of Geese; but maybe someone else could? But the adrenaline line forces Rock's eyes to shoot wide. "Look out, Roy!" he yells, probably in unnecessary warning.
COMBATSYS: Rock drops his guard to recover.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Rock 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Geese
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Roy 0/-------/--=====|
Roy doesn't have the fury that Rock has. All Roy's got is guts. He's on top of a building surrounded by goons with his buddy Rock down on the ground, fighting somebody who appears to be the single toughest human being Roy has ever personally encountered who probably wants to slam him into the ground to set an example for Rock. Roy's not even the star here. He's the guy who gets blasted to piss off the hero.
Roy somehow gets the sense that this is what karma wants for him.
Roy's not all that inquisitive right now. He'll puzzle over what Geese said later if he's not dead. He has other problems. His eyes widen as Geese moves with superhuman speed, coming right at him. The kick hammers into his chest, somehow -- /somehow/ -- not managing to break it like a twig. The bass thump of the impact is loud enough to echo off neighboring buildings. Roy slides back from the force of it, then takes another direct hit to the neck. His head stays on. Why did his head stay on? It should be in orbit now with Sputnik.
Roy doesn't fall. That's how tough he is. He's not likely to talk for a second, but he didn't fall. There are ruts in the rooftop from a few layers of the soles of his sneakers being ripped off his feet, but Roy himself is still functional. Somehow.
He's tougher than a two dollar steak. That's the one thing Roy's got going for him. He doesn't have any fancy styles. He doesn't even have training. All he's got is football tactics and some flashy stuff he's picked up from television. If he really understood how talented he /could/ be, maybe Roy would be more confident that he might not be going home in a bag.
Roy slaps the side of his neck, popping his jaw back in. He shakes his head once to clear the stars, grinning broadly. God damn is this boy crazy. He's almost laugh with either terror or anticipation, knowing how badly this is going to go. He tried this same trick against Rock and it didn't work. If he does this again, he's going to get creamed. But that voice inside his head, that voice that sounds an /awful/ lot like Tiffany, whispers in his ear. Do it. Dooooooo iiiiiiittttt.
"That was incredible," Roy says, "but I'm pretty good, too!"
Roy doesn't do the sensible thing and jump off the side of the building. Roy doesn't try to negotiate an exit for himself and Rock. Roy doesn't fall over and pretend he's dead. Roy doesn't do anything that his mother would tell him to do. Roy's not a momma's boy. Roy's his father's son. Roy's dad is absolutely bonkers.
Roy blitzes forward with a war whoop, riding the lightning. He cocks back his sinister southpaw as he surges forward, the blue chi energy bursting up from his knuckles. His eyes are wide as he charges at Geese, knowing that yes, this will hurt, and yes, Roy is going to be eating a lot of soft food this week. But that's okay. Because THIS. LOOKS. COOL.
Roy throws his fist forward, chi exploding out of it, and tries to hammer Geese right in the chest to either knock him away from Rock or to punch him hard enough to break his hand on Geese's superior physique. It's going to be ugly, it's going to be crazy, it's can only be ONE THING!
"DYNAMITE STRAIGHT!"
COMBATSYS: Roy successfully hits Geese with Dynamite Straight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Rock 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Geese
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Roy 0/-------/=======|
See, this is what Geese was talking about. It comes in many flavours, and Howard approves nearly all of them, save the variety his own son seems to have chosen. Some things, one simply cannot abide. But as Rock shouts his warning, and Bromwell devours the brutal kicks, Geese already realizes he's overcommitted. Roy's speed as he staggers back, and launches forward are enough to catch even Howard off guard. The Syndicate boss slides backwards, forcibly crouched under the force of the fervent straight. But as he comes to a halt, he merely smirks, "Hmm." Howard muses, "Looks like Terry's got another fan." The familiarity in both looks and style is already apparent to Geese, and he simply shakes his head, lunging into motion.
There are no fond faces in Geese's fighting montage. No cheering crowds. There is a chill, perfect wasteland. All of his emotion, all of his strength on one singular focus. A beacon of cold strength that brings itself forth with unrelenting efficiency. So it is that chi surges within Geese, his very being pulsing with it, as if he could simply shrug off the hit with a fading grin, "Looks like you two came to fight after all." But Rock's hardly in a position to relieve his comrade, and Geese seeks to compound Roy's predicament. Howard is rushing at Roy almost before he's pushed fully to his feet, lunging in low, and seeking a grip on the quarterback's jacket.
Should Geese's ironclad grip be found, the motion is as abrupt as it is forceful... Geese would twist a quarter-turn, somehow building centripical force almost immediately, and Roy's release would be with a sudden heave skyward, with force enough to sail some distance into one of the rooftop dais' reinforced columns.
Rock can't help but grin when Roy ratchets it up. He's gone toe to toe with the man, and like he said, he feels like he knows all there is to know about Roy Bromwell. Rock's glad that he's holding his own with his father. Hundreds of allegedly more experienced and better fighters haven't lasted six seconds in the fighter circle with Geese Howard.
With his breath caught, Rock pushes off the railing. He takes three steps towards the center of the rooftop. He passes by one of the ostentatious golden statues of some Samurai Warrior. Hiro Nakamura would recognize it, but Rock Howard is back to focusing on one thing and one thing alone. His father. He wants to see how he handles Roy's fury -- it's so familiar. It's reminscent of the one man who has always been like a shotgun slug to Geese's lionhide.
Exhaling, Rock pushes past the statues and back into the primary battle area. The pond glistens in the moonlight behind him; Geese's 'throne-like' meditation chair standing as a visible reminder to Rock of what his father truly is.
But Rock doesn't follow the way of Terry; he doesn't try and contain his rage or listen to the ripple of the waters around him. He lets it boil through him; he listens to the siren song of Kain Heinlein and the 'Martyr of Might.' It helps him feel like he can take on the world. It's like a roid rage, a bottling, bubbling, burning in his evil blood!
Pulling a torn sleeve of his coat off, Rock tosses it to his side. He slams his feet down, one after the other to plant his feet and form up a growingly refined Hakyokusaken stance. Eyes locked, ice-cold, he waits -- his heart pounding, his mind racing, body poised like a cheetah on the hunt -- for Roy to back off so he can strike.
COMBATSYS: Rock focuses on his next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Rock 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Geese
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Roy 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Roy fails to interrupt Rebound Throw from Geese with Flip Kick.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Rock 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Geese
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Roy 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
Roy hits Geese. The impact feels good. He feels things dislocate in his fist. He'll notice it later, when he can feel his fingers again. As it is, Roy's operating in survival mode. He's got to go full blast or he's going to be demolished here.
At the very least, Roy thinks, I want to last a little longer than Rock. Just a little. Make it so that maybe he introduces me to Terry a /little/ faster, if we live through all this. Eyes on the prize all the time, that's our Roy.
Roy tries to roll back to evade the grip Geese puts on his jacket. This doesn't work very well. He tries to kick up, but that's not going to go. Not at all. The grip lands, and Roy gets chucked into a column hard enough to briefly make him black out. The impact is likely going to doom that particular column. The way he skid-slides down for a few seconds before nailing the ground might briefly fill Rock with the misplaced belief that Roy's finally been killed.
Roy doesn't have a fighting montage in situations like this. Maybe that's why he's just good and not great. He thinks of America; the fields of grain, the mountains, the clouds, the sky so blue you can see forever. His family. His friends. Even people here, in Southtown, appear to his mind. It gives him strength. Strength, perhaps, beyond even Roy's ability to comprehend it. Strength to keep going in the face of impossible odds.
Roy lies there for a long moment, unable to get up. It was a good run, he thinks, with the clarity of someone who thinks he is about to die.
"Hmph." This time the murmur is dismissive. Geese drops back to a more relaxed stance as Roy goes sailing away, the cracking, carved column broken... not for the first time, either. It splinters, creaks, and finally collapses as Bromwell does, in that bed of broken timber. The canopy atop teeters a bit, but holds true on its other supports. Lucky for Roy, really, "You are both talented. But true skill requires more than talent." Sacrifice. Discipline. Obedience to a 'higher' cause. Rock just can't understand! Poor Roy gets to feel the fallout of that, in the end, but that doesn't mean the raging, younger Howard is immune, "I can feel the power within you... but you are not the master of your own strength. You will learn, training with your new 'master'."
Geese's motion is sudden, his right hand ripping through the air, a vibrant plume of dark, rippling chi rolling forth along the ground, the swirling blue-purplish wave nearly chest high on Rock, and threatening to blast over him full force, "REPPUKEN!!"
... the son may have gained a few moments rest from his new friend's intervention, but if Rock is ready and raring to fight again, well... Geese will oblige him!
COMBATSYS: Rock blocks Geese's Reppuken.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Rock 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Geese
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Roy 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
Rock knows what is coming. He can feel it in the air without even watching his father's motion. This was one of the first lessons. Once Rock started being able to touch his own chi, he was taught to channel it into a Reppuken. He can recognize it coming from almost any direction, any fighter. But even with so many people who try and imitate the technique -- there is every only one Reppuken in the world -- and Rock is staring right down at it.
The explosion of chi churns across the rooftop for him. Rock's eyes thin into a squint, his brow knitting, as he focuses in on the center. His mind clears of excess thoguhts, stray worried and concerns. He knows that Roy will okay. He knows that this Reppuken can be stopped. He just has to see it. And before he knows it, the blinding burst of energy is on him.
Rock inhales and holds, crossing his arms across his body. His own invisible chi swallows the brunt of the attack, the Reppuken exploding into a shower of light as it swallows the air around his body, shooting outward and through him. His hair swirls, his half-torn coat spins, but he endures through it. The light starts to fade and Rock lowers his arms, smoke rising from them. He knew he could do it. He wasn't going to try and overcome it like the last time they fought. He's learning.
Wordlessly, he shoots through the remaining filament and twirls of energy. His feet grind against the floor, muscles burning, as he wills them for speed. He's not as explosive as Geese, but he's not slow either. In a flash, he's on his father, and mirroring a situation from their last fight. He relies on his favorite technique; the one he spent so many days and hours of his life perfecting when he was supposed to be practicing Reppukens. Foot slamming into the floor just outside of Geese's arm-span, Rock swivels his body and leaps forward. His elbow explodes into golden chi as he pistons it straight for the older Howard's chest, his other arm shooting forward like ripcord to follow it for the jaw.
COMBATSYS: Rock successfully hits Geese with Hard Edge.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Rock 1/-------/=======|=======\==-----\1 Geese
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Roy 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
Roy sees fragments of memories float by him as darkness creeps in around the edge of his vision. His body wants to shut down. The human body should not have to endure that kind of sudden punishment. His flesh tells him that it's time to go. Visions pass in front of him.
Kurow is talking to him again. "Geese is very tough. I think I could almost, -almost- give him a decent fight on my own... but I'm not sure about you. This could be dangerous, Bromwell."
The Reppuken blasts across Roy's peripheral vision. But it's not coming for him. Roy was ready for it to come to him. Rock. ROCK! He can't take that kind of punishment!
Roy screws his eyes shut, rolling onto his shoulder and starting to pull himself up. He breathes in and out, blood spattering out from behind his teeth. This isn't about him any more. This is about Rock. His friend -- this guy he barely knows, but Rock is Roy Bromwell's -friend-. And that...
...that means more than anything.
"Come on, baby," Roy mutters, trying to will his body to rise all the way up again. One more time. WITH FEELING.
COMBATSYS: Roy drops his guard to recover.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Rock 1/-------/=======|=======\==-----\1 Geese
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Roy 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
Aha! Rock /is/ learning. Geese tracks his course through the wake of the Reppuken, but despite the focus, Howard's sidestep carries him not free from harm... but instead falls short, Rock's elbow throwing off his footing, as the explosive follow through sends Geese reeling. Gritting his teeth, the Syndicate boss simply pushes defiantly back to his feet. No, he'll not be floored so easily, "Better." Geese manages a subtle, almost amused smirk, "I keep telling you how much more there is for you to learn here..."
But Rock does choose the hard path. In some respects, it's almost something that Geese would respect... if it weren't so bothersome and contrary. He needs Rock in a different role, not as a thorn in his side. Or at least, it would be nice. Not that Rock seems inclined to fall into line. Which is where the punching and kicking come into play. Howard wastes no more time than it takes to breathe the word, seeking to catch Rock overextended, exerted perhaps... or at least catch him. The elder Howard would then hoist him up by his shirt, and with a twist of his upper body, bring Rock about and shoulder slam him to the ground on the opposite side, with ample force.
COMBATSYS: Rock interrupts Medium Throw from Geese with Raging Storm'.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Rock 0/-------/---====|=======\====---\1 Geese
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Roy 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
Rock feels such satisfaction as his elbow slams into Geese's bone structure. There's very little give there. It's like when Grant had him punch the side of a Abrams Tank to see if he could dent it. But it's so much more satisfying. This is the first time Rock has scored a decisive strike against his father since their falling out. They've fought, and it's always been the same. Geese dominates Rock. Rock, embarassed, trains harder. Repeat. But this time? The pie... SO GOOD.
Such is his satisfaction, and perhaps secret deathwish, that Howard lets Geese grapple him by the shirt. The black fabric stretches in the large man's impossible grip. Such is his satisfaction, and surprise, that he can't even twist away before Geese is slamming his back square and true into the foundations of the rooftop monastary. The ground crackles around Rock's back, spiderwebs rippling outward from his narrow impact crater.
Pinned down, Rock's red eyes lock up on Geese. There's a moment of familiarity there; it's almost like Rock wants this. He wants his father to make him feel this pain. To hurt him. But then it passes, it melts away, and it's replaced by another perfectly emulated Geese Howard grin. Rock has his father right where he wants him.
Power explodes across his body. He kick-springs back to both feet, explodes to a full extension, and screams, "RAGGGGGGIIINNNNGGG!" All of that hate, that boiled and burning rage that he was building earlier comes out now. Arms slamming down, a shockwave of chi shoots out in every direction around Rock. Geese Tower shakes with the seismic force, the blinding radial of light flourishing around the two Howards. "STOOOOOOOORRRRRMMM!!"
For one of Rock's talent... it was only a matter of time. Even Geese can only shun his son's skilled strikes so long, and so it is that he's hammered not once, but twice, as the slammed Rock all but /explodes/ with chi. He should have seen that coming.. and perhaps he did... but whatever the reality, the Raging Storm Jr. ravages Geese's advance, blasting him back in a tumult of chi. He staggers away from the blinding, golden hurricane, the front of his gi now torn from the raging winds. He's stung in many places, but when it comes to actually stopping Geese, well... he doesn't look done, just yet, "Impressive." Howard muses, as he pushes back to his feet, "But you haven't won."
Geese's eyes narrow, the pale blue burning with a cold, intense fire. Analytical, thoughtful. Reading everything he can into this shift in Rock, "If anything, this only proves where you belong." The words are still calmly spoken, Howard's resolve barely dented.
... of course, Roy isn't out of this fight, nor is Rock. But Geese seems to have at least a few tricks left. After all, his words are only buying time... his energy recentering... his focus realigning after the brutal duet.
COMBATSYS: Geese focuses on his next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Rock 0/-------/---====|=======\====---\1 Geese
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Roy 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
Roy gets all the way back to his feet, standing up. He squares his shoulders, trying to get the spots out of his eyes. There are things busted up in him from that impact that he didn't even know he has. His entire body is tingly like it had fallen asleep. He is at once near death and more alive than he has ever been in his entire life.
This, Roy incorrectly thinks, is what it is like to be completely ready to die. No fear. No pain. Nothing. Geese Howard may be this terrifying blur on the horizon, with purple energy blasting from every pore, but Roy Bromwell feels it. It's calling to him. It's the siren call of something even more fundamental to Roy than stupidity.
The Gipper speaks to Roy. He hears it echoing through his ears. "Heroes may not be braver than anyone else. They're just braver five minutes longer."
He doesn't need to check his watch to know that his five minutes isn't up yet. But he's on the last sixty five seconds of that five minutes, and a lot can happen in that time. Joe Nameth landed two touchdowns in sixty-five seconds once. The stakes are almost that high now.
Rock unloads with the Raging Storm. Roy, like a madman, charges into it even as he thinks the tower will break beneath them all. Roy doesn't even feel his feet hit the ground as he rips across the park-like battleground. He could run across still water at this point and not even notice.
Geese wasn't done after that strike. Of course not. The man is something more than human. Roy doesn't let that bother him. Geese is clearly standing there, bracing himself, preparing to obviously take Roy down in one hit. But better Roy than Rock. If Rock can get away, Rock could... Roy doesn't know. Do something. Summon a giant robot. It might take the goddam Power Rangers at this point to stop Geese Howard from assumedly running wild over the entire planet.
Roy's entire left arm explodes into chi fire as he surges forward. He grits his teeth as he keeps running, not having enough air left to scream. His lips move. Three words. No, three ... letters.
U. S. A.
And then it is upon you, Geese Howard. This is where you counter Roy Bromwell and try to put an end to him for good. Because you know what this is. You've seen it before. The power of dynamite. The fire of justice. Driven by Ronald Wilson Reagan himself (who is in Heaven now). Is your evil greater than this?!
Roy closes in. He throws his fist at Geese to try to do something insane, like hammer him off the tower. He drives forward with all of his power, all of his strength, all of his speed, everything he is --
"DYNAMITE! JUSTICE!"
Rock knows what Roy is about to do. He tried it against Rock. It was a variation of the Buster Wolf. Howard picked up on it immediately. He's sure that Geese will be equally as skilled in detecting what is to come. It isn't a perfect replica, suffering from Roy's own self-taught methods, but it is terrible effective. In the worst case scenario, it will leave his father distracted enough that Rock can get through his defenses.
Taking two strongs steps to the side, Rock plants his feet and locks his eyes on his father's form as Roy screams by at a different angle. Fingers curling into fists, Rock cuts it forward and up through the air. A small storm of chi swirls to life in the motion, ripping off on the upswing and ripping across the ground on a blue-white contrail of energy.
It's not as impressive as the original, but it might be enough.
COMBATSYS: Rock successfully hits Geese with Reppuken.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Rock 0/-------/--=====|=======\=====--\1 Geese
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Roy 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Geese counters Dynamite Justice from Roy with Joudan Atemi Nage.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Rock 0/-------/--=====|=======\=======\1 Geese
[ \\\\\\\ <
Roy 1/-----==/=======|
Oh, -there- it is. Bromwell drags himself back into the fight, and Geese can /feel/ that tremendous upsurge in chi. Ronald Reagan? Well now. In some things, honoring the spirits is grand... but when it comes to the field of battle, well.. it's really hard to rely on the Gipper. He'll do some strange things. Like sell you nunchucks and then beat the crap out of you with a cattle prod. Or so it's said. ... in places.
The Buster Wolf is a formidable monstrosity, and has indeed been responsible for at least one of Howard's happy little trips to the bottom of his tower... express style. But Roy's variant doesn't pack that kind of oomph, not today... though the intent is noticed. There isn't surprise, merely focused drive. This is not a fight he's conceding. Geese's palm slams forward, crashing over the flaming fist and all but snuffing its fires in an instant, the air going cold around Roy's arm.
... or maybe that's the sudden numbness likely to result as Geese steps aside, sharply twisting that arm wide, as he steps in the opposite direction... into Roy's rear flank. His other hand joins the leverage of Bromwell's overextended fist by snapping in as an added fulcrum at mid-bicep... before Roy is sent on a sudden, skyward flip, that ends with him slammed away to the rooftop on the other side of Geese, all courtesy of that poor arm... which would likely be in Howard's hands as a makeshift weapon were Roy not as capable as he is, "Now I've seen your best..." Geese muses, almost too quietly.
The world explodes into purple and blue and red and black. Roy swings his arm out through infinite space, driving forward like a hammer. He feels like he's falling as he punches forward, the world exploding beneath him into dust and air. He hits something. A hand. Like Kurow's hand. That exact same --
Power drains out of him like someone was cracking the marrow out of his bones. Black closes in around his vision as Roy's arm almost gets completely mangled in every wrong direction possible. Roy takes flight, soaring clear --
The reppuken slams down somewhere below him as Roy sails through the air, hammering down onto the soil and ripping into it like a meteor crashing down. He rolls over and over again before finally coming to a stop.
Stay down, Roy, his mother says to him. Stay down and maybe he'll just have you thrown in jail for trespassing and assault. You have a good lawyer. Stay down. Be smart --
GET UP ROY! Tiffany screams in his ears. GET UP! FIGHT! FIGHT! CALL ME! FIGHT!
Where wisdom fails, shrillness prevails. He keeps getting up. That five minutes isn't done yet. Roy scrapes himself up, swaying for a second before he straightens out. He's got to have nothing left. It's got to be just blind animal instinct rather than anything organized. But then that power starts to rise up again. That terrible inner strength. Imagine what Roy could do with training, Geese Howard. Imagine what he could become.
Roy grits his teeth, throwing back his head as he clenches both fists, pushing with everything he's got. Bones realign for just a few more seconds. Fire tears through his muscles. Everything hurts. Everything tells him to stop. He doesn't listen. He's got the intent now. The passion. The spirit of the Gipper might trick him, but Roy won't stop. Not until it's all used up.
Roy charges back at Geese once again, barely able to see straight, black spots in his vision. His body flares with ki as he rips back across the track he was just driven through, kicking up sod and mud as he batters his shoes into little more than plastic rags. He leaps into the air like a lunatic, this time trying to drive his fist down at Geese to try to punch him at an angle down and away, perhaps to knock him into Rock's next strike.
Roy bellows something. He's not really coherent any more. But you saw this coming last time and you're going to see it again, and maybe even a third time if Roy somehow doesn't completely collapse into a coma after this exchange. It's a very strong possibility.
Somewhere, Leeroy Jenkins sheds a single tear.
Rock swallows but it doesn't help. His throat is as dry as Jimmy Stewart's sense of humor. He feels like he's been sucking on a ream of sandpaper. They've thrown Reppukens at him, Buster Wolves, Hard Edges, and even a Raging Storm. And yet? Geese is still standing. It's more punishment than Rock can ever remember seeing his father take; let alone courtesy, in a small part, to him. But he's enduring. He's still there. Still moving to the music.
Rock shakes his hand out a few times. The black leather glove, fingerless, feels like it weighs a thousand pounds on it. The sweat of his palms is making it uncomfortable to wear. The ringing of his knuckles reminds him of how far they've come so far. Dropping his hand, Rock takes his fighting stance again.
He watches each breath of his father. In. Out. In. Out. He see's flashes of his mother's face behind those dark eyes. He can feel her touch, the warmth, her positive and endearing influence. She told him to never be like the his father. She told him that he was a good person, meant for great things. He could be more than what he dreamed. He could be anything. Go anywhere.
Rock's eyes shoot across the rooftop. They go through the gaps in the statues, beneath the canopy, past the pillars. They lock onto Roy as his friend starts to get back to his feet after Geese's terrible counter. Rock doesn't need to say anything; it's all conveyed in that one, simple look. Roy will understand. He's got the fighter's spirit. He'll know what must be done.
Rock waits until he see's Roy start to act. The waves of power from across the roof are already washing across him by the time he reaches his full speed. Again, he comes roaring in on Geese, accelerating as fast as his thin body can take him; his approach at an angle to Roy's own. Each footfall pounds the pavement, grinding the toes of his feet against it, shooting him forward in a mad run. A last gasp. His eyes start to tear up, burning to near blindness from the chi radiating off of Roy's second Dynamite Justice. But Rock doesn't care. He pushes through it, born on a promise of pain.
He pushes through it. He feels his father's presence. It's like a black spot in the center of his heart. His arm rears back and his body eclipses in his own golden chi. "SHHIIIIIINNNNNNNEEEEEE!" he screams, lungs burning for all their worth. He slams his feet down, thrusts his elbow with every ounce of force behind it -- shockwaves of energy quaking off it's missile-like extension. "KNNNNUUUUUUCCCKKKKLLLLEEE!"
Rock can hear the music.
COMBATSYS: Rock successfully hits Geese with Shine Knuckle.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Rock 0/-------/-------|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Geese
[ \ <
Roy 1/-----==/=======|
COMBATSYS: Geese counters Dynamite Justice from Roy with Gedan Atemi Nage.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Rock 0/-------/-------|=======\=======\1 Geese
[ <
Roy 1/--=====/=======|
Really, this entire fight has been one more little game for Geese Howard's benefit. Together, Rock and Roy are indeed a threat. But why acknowledge that outright, when he can control that threat by dealing with them one at a time... and efficiently, one might add. The might of those imbued with amazing teamwork has always been a bit of a foible for Geese, despite his own comrades and associates. Up until now, Roy or Rock had been waiting.. or at least recovering their breath. Howard's focus as Bromwell attacks is exemplary, and despite the extended combat, his defenses remain impressive. As that exploding fist descends, Geese once more centers his own chi in opposition. This time, the shockwave comes from the side, a fluid motion of Geese's opposite arm snapping upwards and across as he steps aside. An ironclad clench of fingers digs into Roy's wrist, for the moment it takes the Syndicate boss to abruptly /yank/ Bromwell out of his attack, landing him prematurely... on one suddenly rising knee.
... good luck maintaining the focus for a 'Buster Wolf' through that. Even if you're Terry Bogard himself. Geese lets out a deep breath, but as Roy falls free of the counterattack, Rock all but /plows/ into his father's flank. Sure, Howard /felt/ that power... but Roy's as well, and dealing with the one leaves him with little time but to look up, over, and widen his eyes momentarily. Of course, there's a motion into immediate evasion, but it's too late. He's driven forward by his son's rocketing attack, finally barreled over by the aforementioned train, and chicken game.
Spiralling out of control out of the impact, Geese is finally dropped, rolling across the rooftop rather rapidly before a palm catches him, and he shoves back to a crouch...
A deep breath, a ragged, but growing smile, and his eyes lock on Rock once more, "Impressive. With or without today's little helper." Praise. Combined with the reminder of Yamazaki's recent actions, "So are you here to try to kill me?" Geese doesn't seem particularly threatened, though there is a forced measure of sad resignation.
Rock pulls back after he feels the impact point. The shock of the strike coils up his arm, into his spine, and then through his half-beaten body. Every nerve feels what it is like to plow into Geese Howard. That will be a Shine Knuckle neither his mind or his body will ever forget. It's like he's a metal tray and someone just banged a hammer into it's side. Everything buzzes. It's a cocktail of physical exhaustion and pain spiked with a little shock and awe that it actually all worked.
The shock and awe is winning. Rock's running on adrenaline. He can ignore the muscle burn that feels like it's so deep it's inside his bones. No, the sight of his father rolling -- end over end -- away from him alleviates any other concerns. Breaking into a crooked, rakish, grin despite himself... Rock feels big. Strong. Powerful. He lines his eyes onto Geese as his father starts to rise, his shoulders strong and broad, feeling like he could take on the entire universe.
A question is poised. Rock's fingers flex, their diamond tight clench somehow grinding closer -- knuckles to palm. Howard's jaw settles into a permanently hardened state. A pause runs across the roof; a night breeze -- buoyed by the storms of chi around the Tower in such a short span -- swirling across it as a reminder of their altitude. Rock finally breaks it. "No," he says, voice as cold and hard as a splint of ice. "I never wanted to kill you. That would make me too much /like/ you."
In some delusional way, Rock Howard feels that fighting his father and defeating him is the only way to absolve him of the anguish in his past. With Geese punished by his fists, with Geese spoken to in the only language -- the song of combat -- Rock feels he truly understands... Rock will finally be able to be free of him. He'll be like the birds that circle the very Tower they stand on in a sunny summer afternoon. The message will be delivered, loud and clear, in the symphony of their struggle.
'That would make me too much /like/ you...' And Rock is back into his preferred stance. He slides a hand forward, raising the other one close to his shoulders. Coiled, snakelike, ready for what is to come. There is nothing else. There is only this moment and the message he's waited eighteen years to deliver. His fingers uncurl and he motions at the most dangerous man on the planet.
"Come on."
COMBATSYS: Rock focuses on his next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Rock 0/-------/-------|=======\=======\1 Geese
[ <
Roy 1/--=====/=======|
Roy Bromwell is on his last legs. He leaps down and throws his burning fist forward, and once more he is denied. His arm gets wrenched by Geese's iron grip, being thrown out of the strike. Roy almost expected that. He was almost ready. But what he wasn't ready for was to then meet Geese Howard's knee in his midsection, pounding his already badly bruised innards. The flames go out as he is driven away, landing hard on his back.
Rock hammers into Geese while Roy feels his body tell him it's time to stop. He needs to not get up. He needs to just lie there, wait to be thrown off the tower, and die quietly. He can't feel anything in his body right now, having burned through more power than he thought he ever had. His vision is blurry. His heartbeat is irregular. It is time to stop, Roy. Stop now. That's the smart thing to do...
And since when do we ever do the smart thing.
Roy distantly hears Geese and Roy talk as he rolls onto his stomach. The adrenaline is fading. His vital signs are loopy. Rock's become totally focused -- he can win. Roy only has to buy him a little more time. If he does that, Rock can win the fight. Rock can ... do something, there was a reason they were up here. Right? Roy has kind of forgot why he is here. Maybe he should have asked Rock again on the way up.
While Rock and Geese have their confrontation, Roy swaggers up to his feet, a dead man walking. He can't have any chi left. He can't be functional at all. It's amazing he's able to stand. His entire midsection is a giant bruise from repeated impacts. His soul is tired. His body is exhausted. His mind is like a television tuned to static. He's fighting on pure spirit.
Roy grins with desperate, manic energy. This is all or nothing. He's got nothing left. After this, he doesn't know if he can get back up. He draws in a breath and starts to walk, then jog, then run, barreling forward like he was going to sack Quarterback Geese back for a first down. He charges forward, desperate and wild and full of what it is to be alive. Nothing before has come close to this. Nothing after will ever seem as fresh.
Roy raises up his left hand one. Last. Time. He clenches the horribly mangled palm into a fist, bones popping as the chi energy kicks back in. The glow isn't as bright, being more white than blue. This is the gristle. This is what's left for him to throw. And he's gonna let it all out on the field today.
With a flash of mad genius, Roy starts his approach on Geese Howard. He calls out something that for him is unfamiliar:
"ARE YOU OKAY?!" he yells, his midwest accent just not making it happen. He starts to swing at Geese, hoping he gets that reaction. Hoping that he grabs for his wrist. Hoping against hope that Geese's superior training actually does what Roy's stupid, stupid trick needs him to do.
Suddenly Roy's hand snaps open as Geese might go to grab it, and Roy throws his arms downward at the ground. Breaking form, breaking all the rules, Roy destroys himself and unleashes an awesome wave of chi energy at near point-blank range right in Geese Howard's face, on top of his tower, in the middle of Southtown, in front of God and everyone:
"SUPER TOUCHDOWN!"
COMBATSYS: Roy can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Rock 0/-------/-------|=======\=======\1 Geese
COMBATSYS: Geese dodges Roy's Super Touchdown.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Rock 0/-------/-------|=======\=======\1 Geese
"Too much like me?" Geese doesn't seem convinced, on this point, "I'm afraid patricide isn't among my crimes, or desires. Your anger is not my own. You never thought to learn -purpose-." Geese frowns. Rock's response isn't exactly one he approves of. But it's not a surprising choice, despite the father's misgivings. Bromwell's return to the fray, on the other hand... that /does/ surprise Geese. He had thought the other prodigy dealt with, and the adrenaline-fueled quarterback's blitz might as well be displayed on the replay camera. The shout, in this case, only helps with the warning, "I've already seen your best..." Geese muses, in the same moment he fluidly slides into a sidelong leap, his ascent shortlived. Landing on lightly bent legs, in a ready stance, his arms drop to his sides and he draws a deep, centering breath, "Now you're just prolonging the inevitable. This test is over." Howard's calm returns as he considers Rock thoughtfully. Carefully. Maybe the boy really is a lost cause. He's beginning to show himself as a danger, given his 'allies', "Or do you really want a demonstration?" They've shown their best. Geese just needs to stay standing a few moments longer...
[OOC] Geese says, "Oop. Little more."
A second breath, and a narrowing of the eyes. Rock is still relatively fresh ,recovered from his quick but not exactly permanent beating earlier. But Howard isn't down yet, and the veritable King of Southtown's focus seems unphased. Now, if he can just stop the ringing in his ears... was it the Shine Knuckle? The Raging Storm? Or the entire /combination/ of exploding chi that seems to have been going nonstop all around him for a notable span of time, now. It's his own power that he focuses now, almost a tremor, reverberating through the ground. There is no rumble, no earthquake. Only sheer, forboding power to those who can sense it.
COMBATSYS: Geese gains composure.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Rock 0/-------/-------|=======\======-\1 Geese
Roy blitzes forward, unloading with an impressive explosion of chi. But that's it for him. There is no more. Geese flies away, and the last thing Roy remembers is hitting the ground face first.
Ow.
Rock tracks Roy as the kid gives it everything he's got. It might not all make sense to him today, but Rock can't repay the debt he owes that goofy blond haired kid from Texas. Or was it Oklahoma? Going burn knuckle against Geese Howard on the roof of Geese Tower without even a second of hesitation is a special quality of reckless. That's when they start to label you as fearless.
The inevitability of Geese's evasion was apparent to Rock two steps before Roy unleashed the Touchdown Wave. It's another attack that Rock has felt firsthand; it's one he knows can crush a man if Roy can land it. But his father is too smart for it, Rock knows that, and when the chi washes out across the roof yet again, he loses Roy; shielding his eyes with his forearm.
There's no time to mourn his fallen friend. He has to press what limited advantage they had by double teaming him. He has to get right in there and personal with this man he's hated for so long. Geese gave him a compliment moments before -- now Rock is going to punch out a hundred more.
Surging forward, he closes the narrow expanse between him and his father before the Super Touchdown Wave has even fully faded -- a humming optical din of light still hangs in the air. It's like a fog of ephereal light and melting energy. With nothing left to disguise, Rock simply goes straight in at Geese. He tries to be as brutal and direct as he could. He tries to channel the techniques of striking like a cobra that Grant showed him. His fingers curl, his fist balls, and with one final yell, Rock slams full speed into his father's infamous reach; his knuckles slicing in a haymaker down for that hated jaw.
COMBATSYS: Geese blocks Rock's Medium Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Rock 0/-------/-------|=======\=======\1 Geese
Roy is from Des Moines. But who's counting? The mud on the ground is his friend. It understands him.
Roy falls to the ground... or as close to it as one can get on the roof of a skyscraper, and Rock forgoes the opportunity to take his prize and go home, so to speak. Unfortunately, such treachery is far from unknown to Howard! Rock may have the offensive momentum, but Geese is quick to recover his defenses, a sweeping forearm intercepting the venomous strike at the wrist, his bracer slapping the blow aside with a stinging reverberation.
... truly, Rock Howard has grown stronger. But is it enough? Geese certainly doesn't intend to let his son be his undoing. It's far too... biblical, or some such thing. Damn Shakespeare. Damn Star Wars. What the hell.
Still, the master of lost ancient arts has a thing or two to show, "No." he intones, correcting, "Like /this/." and his right, unblocking hand snaps in and up, a similar, suddenly forged strike launched by curled fingers, the 'bite' levelled in an instant on Rock's chest.
COMBATSYS: Rock fails to counter Quick Punch from Geese with Gedan Crack Counter.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Rock 0/-------/-----==|=======\=======\1 Geese
Rock's hubris is his undoing. He's still too young -- even tempered by multiple struggles -- to really know how to use the natural talents he was given by his birthright. He's a blunt instrument, a sword made of the finest materials that hasn't been sharpened. It means that he thinks he can destroy Geese Howard with the man's own techniques.
Fist cracking against Geese's forearm, Rock is quick to recoil his hand back. He shifts his balance between his feet, floating a half a step to the side, ready for his father's follow up strike. It comes at him, and Rock really wants to stuff it down his father's face. He wants his hand to shoot out, swallow the momentum of his blow and channel it into a flipkick over Geese's head. His boot hitting the back of the man's head would be one of the sweetest pitterpap's of his life.
But it's hubris. Rock's hand moves, but he's too slow. Much to slow. Before he can even get his palm near the impending knuckles, Geese's fist slams into his chest like a Bass Drummer in the Marching Band. Rock is immediately blasted back, like he were shot out of a cannon.
He lands a half a dozen yards away from Geese, his momentum curling his body back until he rolls end over end at least three times. It's only his gruesome impact with one of the stationary pillars that prevents him from reaching the wooden perimeter of Geese Tower.
Ribs likely fractured. One eye not working very well. Jaw feeling unhinged. It doesn't matter. Rock crawls himself back to his feet, one hand holding his shoulder. It might just be dislocated. He's the type who dies on his feet. "Is... Is that it?"
"You push the very battles you hate me for, Rock. Always, you have pushed hard." Geese muses, as Rock sails away. It's almost disconnected from the events, given that the younger Howard has taken quite a bit of punishment by this point, and is currently struggling to regain his footing.. "It is strength, but it lacks direction... all teenagers blame their parents, 'hate' their parents... it is natural. But with your power, it is more dangerous." Even in this moment, Geese seeks not to release Rock from his tutelage, but to ingrain further doubt, further draw. Whatever he can, "What you hate in me, you nurture in yourself... but you are strong because of my training, and because you are my son. My intent... should be proven by allowing you to run about on this... misplaced vendetta for so long. You have done everything you can to become my enemy." Geese gives a shrug, "And you would undo us both in the process."
Geese doesn't press the attack. Rock may be taunting, or may be giving up... it's hard to tell when the words come out that hoarsely, "I've already said your desired trial was complete, Rock. You require further training, isn't it time to come home?" The words may be welcoming, but they also buy time. Rock may be beaten, but he's still a threat, should he choose to be. ... a situation Geese seeks to rectify, simply by drawing out the struggle. Regaining his wits, in much the same fashion Rock had after their initial exchanges. Granted, Howard doesn't leave his guard down for a moment. But he does wait for a response. Lucky Rock?
COMBATSYS: Geese gains composure.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////// ]
Rock 0/-------/-----==|=======\======-\1 Geese
Roy likes his parents. YOU GUYS are the freaks.
"Show me your intent with your /fists/!" Rock rages.
But Rock is going to give Geese a better answer. It might not be the answer the man wants. He doesn't use any more words here. He's not going to stop fighting Geese until one of them is face first in the ground. No matter what Geese's true intentions are, no matter what words or affects they might be having on the younger Howard, Rock fights until the end. It doesn't matter if it's against Ryo Sakazaki at a fish stand or Geese Howard on the top of Geese Tower in the dead of the night.
You fight until the end.
Those are familiar words to them both. It was one of the first tennants Rock learned when he began his training with his father. You never relent. You never show mercy. If a man steps into your circle, you push him out until you cannot push him any more. And then you push some more. Rock has to ignore Geese, but maybe in his actions, he shows a certain level a resignation to his father's words.
Or maybe he just wants Geese to kill him? Arm feeling like it's made of lead, Rock doesn't care. He swallows a gulp of the worst tasting air he's ever imagined and comes back after Geese. He doesn't sprint initially, he comes towards him with red eyes beamed into his father's core. Each step gains his momentum, each step tells him that he'll give him that answer he needs. By the time he reaches Geese, he's in a full run. He tucks his arm back, like he's preparing for another variation of the Power Dunk, and then suddenly all of his weight shifts. "RISING!" He yells and leaps forward, body contorting forward like a spinning screwdriver -- his foot barreling in for Geese's chest. "TACKLE!"
COMBATSYS: Geese dodges Rock's Rising Tackle.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////// ]
Rock 0/-------/------=|=======\======-\1 Geese
You fight to the end. Indeed, that is a lesson one must take to heart, when fighting is life. When every bout counts. When advancing means it takes your all, and then you have to find something else. It's a lesson Geese has learned well, believe it or don't... he took no shortcuts to the mastery he's attained. Unearthing the secrets, sure.. but then, they were bent to his will. No slave to demonic energy, no genetically crafted battery of chi... he's just Geese Howard. Syndicate Boss, Media Mogul, and all around good guy... in the minds of most.
Quite obviously, Rock is not one of those 'most'. The Syndicate lord's own son pushes on despite the approval, and his actions speak loudly. But Howard's attention never wavered from his would-be heir's fighting form, and when Rock charges, Geese is ready. Reflexes unslowed by the passage of battle, Geese twists away, backpedalling a single, fluid stride and allowing the younger Howard to rocket up into the air, with all the force of that spinning, booted drive behind him.
... unfortunately for Rock? He has to land. And he just refuses to let the gauntlet drop. And so, the elder Howard lunges forward, seeking to meet Rock even as he drops. Geese reaches out with both hands, seeking a painful, steel vicegrip on Rock. It doesn't really matter how the boy lands, if Geese has his way? He'll /hurl/ Rock back the way he came. Up, up, into the wild blue yonder, Rock would be granted a beautiful, albeit frightening and awfully spinny view of Southtown as he ascends... and then falls at a breakneck pace.
COMBATSYS: Rock fails to counter Rashoumon from Geese with Gedan Crack Counter.
-* CRITICAL FAIL! *-
> ///////// ]
|======-\-------\0 Geese
COMBATSYS: Rock can no longer fight.
> ///////// ]
|======-\-------\0 Geese
Is it a bird? Is it a plane? It's Rock Howard! Spinning head over heels above Geese, and then down, down, down. Inexorably down, into a veritable fusion core of rampant, shearing chi. Both of Geese's hands thrust forward to meet his son's drop, and Rock is suddenly in the middle of a spherical maelstrom of white-hot, bluish energy. The quasi-translucent orb crackles, fluctuates, thrums with punishing shockwaves as Rock is enveloped by the conjured storm. It's explosive enough to send Rock into the air /yet again/, this time sailing far and wide, down again towards the edge of Geese Tower....
where his father happens to be waiting for him. Moving in beneath the chi shockwave's final release, Geese rushes the edge... will Rock fall? Will Geese make /sure/ he falls?
... hey, it's a thought. Maybe more than a passing one. Instead, Rock is hauled away from the precipice, by whatever happens to be left of his shirt, and released -almost- gently back to the ground. Geese, meanwhile, heaves a sigh, and motions to Yamazaki, "Get something for their injuries." Magnanimous Geese, "And don't worry." Howard knows what makes the enforcer's mind tick, "You'll get your chance to fight them. This one is, after all, the SNF champion." And Yamazaki's not the sort to let others rest on his laurels, is he?
Rock's unconscious seconds before the blinding blast of chi energy. His eyes are fluttering, winking out, his mind yielding to the tremendous punishment. He wakes up sometime between his flight from freefalling towards Geese and finding himself dangling overtop the entirity of Southtown; held only by the thinned remnants of a black t-shirt and his father's will. The first thing he feels are the hands near his chest. Tracing Geese's arm, Rock's head slowly rises.
His eyes lock with Geese's in that moment. His expression is as unreadable as his father's. He doesn't know what to make of this. He doesn't know how to react. Not that he /could/ react to it. He can barely will his eyes open. Feeling Geese's fingers shift, he knows that it's coming. This is how he's going to die; murdered by the father he thinks murdered his mother. Dropped from 60 stories for crossing one too many lines. No longer an amusement. No longer just an insolent distraction.
The last thing Rock says, as he's hauled like a burlap sack back onto the roof's suddenly tranquil stone floor is, eyes looking up is... "Why?" And then he's out. He'll never understand.
Log created on 20:17:35 05/29/2007 by Rock, and last modified on 17:32:00 06/03/2007.