Description: It's Rock versus upstart newcomer Rawhide with Chaos Agent Ash Crimson... in the Match of the Century! But who is Rawhide? What is Ash Crimson's motivation in all of this? There's a fight, but it's not between who you expect. (Winner: Rock)
Rock Howard has found himself in the Main Event of Saturday Night Fight for three weeks in a row now. He won the Saturday Night Title from Kain one week. He lost it and was hospitalized by Yamazaki the next week. And now, in the third week? He's facing an unknown new challenger named Rawhide. It's been a whirlwind affair and it can all be traced back to one man: Geese Howard. The master manipulator and man behind the curtain. He wants Rock to feel what it's like to be on his own.
Rock's assuming the worst about his opponent when he shows up at the "Southtown Arena." It's a smaller fighting complex than the glamorous and ostentatious Howard Arena down the road. But Southtown Arena has a lot of history to it. Before Geese took over professional fighting, it was one of the top venues to see the world's best talent. But as the popularity of the sport grew, so to, did the fighting stadiums. Now Southtown Arena stands as a piece etched in history.
Tonight it's been filled to the gills with eager fans, loaded with television equipment, and reinvigorated with the prospect of a SNF Main Event. The announcer is in the center of the stone pit that serves as the fighting circle. The stands rise up around it in a perfect Hong Kong circle. Gamblers and their patrons are buzzing as they rove the aisles, exchanging yen by the thousands. When Rock is finally introduced, an audible hush falls across the crowd; many of them are extremely interested in seeing how the young fighter looks after his brutal maiming just one week ago.
Rock waits for a few seconds, hesitating in the entry-portal, before he finally makes his way out. He's not wearing his normal red jacket, but he does have on his usual black clothing. Black pants, black tank-top, and black boots. Visibly beneath the tank top is a series of white bandages, wrapped fully around his waist and upper-chest, but his movements are smooth and he does a good job of not showing any weakness from the injury.
Stopping in the circle, he gives a thumbs up to his fans in the crowd, and then starts pacing the perimeter, waiting for this 'Rawhide' guy's entrance. He's fully expecting it'll be Mr. Big or some other goon of his father's here to make him eat some pain.
Perhaps Rock is correct in his assumption, and the man is but a lowly minion of Geese Howard's... Or, maybe not. Some things ARE for certain about this 'Rawhide', however. He's an angry bigot and a coward, as well as a misogynist. While built with rugged features and quite bent on making a name for himself, he's going about it in all the wrong ways, and will never have the chance to make his stand. Despite the announcements that take place in the arena proper, the roughneck fighter is still in a rest and relaxation room of the arena, facing off against a tall, thin and eccentric-looking young man.
There are days when the flamboyant Frenchman has infinite patience for people, but after the brazen bonehead burst into the secluded quarters, hoping to stir up some raw emotion to fuel their fight... There's limits to everything. It certainly didn't help that 'Rawhide' ignored the assistants as they tried to clarify that Ash Crimson - currently cracking his knuckles - most definitely was NOT the man's opponent. Looking over the flamewielder once, it was insults to women and homosexuals galore, and after one of the poor girls, who was nice enough to bring Ash a cover for his eyes, left in tears, he really wasn't in much of a mood to tolerate the insults or that annoying voice any longer. The freckle-faced fighter decided to teach the man a lesson, but out of pure cruelty. He's no champion of justice, nor someone who honestly bothers to get directly involved in a fight that isn't his, but SHUT UP. Here's a fist, it's going in your face! REPEATEDLY.
Unfortunately, as bones are getting cracked and people are fleeing the violent destruction that ensues when Ash puts 'Rawhide' in his place, Rock must entertain himself. It's at least ten minutes that the Howard boy spends pacing or whatever tickles his fancy, and the crowd grows restless, looking around, peering down at the second arena entrance from where the other fighter will enter. Even the announcer himself tugs at his collar, and attempts to avoid appearing disappointed. He had assumed that with a former SNF champion, plus the main event, that this would be quite the battle... But nothing is going right, until the doors fling open, and Ash Crimson steps into the light amidst the booming of the overhead speakers. "From origins unknown, the Chaos Agent for this evening will be... ASH CRIMSON!" Though his reception is lukewarm overall, his fans few and far between, they make up for their lack of numbers with great enthusiasm; the small group shrieks and screams wildly, provoking security to hurry over to their section of the arena to curb their possibly disruptive excitement. The Frenchman affords a small smile and starts forwards.
Reaching the stage as his long strides carry him there, he ascends the staircase and looks relatively at ease. Standing on one foot, hand at his hip... God, men seriously shouldn't stand like that. Of course, the announcer approaches him immediately, and hurriedly asks the strange flamewielder if he has word on Rock's opponent of the evening. Ash, smiling in a manner that's most chilling, allows assumptions to run amuck in the man's head, before he motions lazily over his shoulder in the direction where he entered. "You'll find... 'Rawhide' unconscious, stuffed in a bin outside of the arena, where he belongs." His voice is light and effeminate. Musical, even. Ash is extremely pleased.
However, the man, with his microphone shaking, pales considerably, "You knocked Howard's opponent out?" He manages to babble out.
The man dressed in his red fighting attire responds to the shock with his cold, creepy smile replaced by a friendly, jovial one, and instead of providing any sort of explanation that he is prompted for, calls across to Rock, twirling a lock of long white hair around a thin finger. His painted nails glint brilliantly in the spotlight. "I'll be fighting you, Monsieur Howard, and I must say, this is quite the honour."
Raising one pencil-thin eyebrow, the Frenchman utters a soft 'Oh?' in question, before he turns his attention to the man in a frantic tizzy at his side. "Considering that 'Rawhide' was an arrogant weakling, it'll be far more interesting with me as his opponent, don't you agree? Otherwise..." His mouth twists slyly, amusement evident in those smallish blue eyes, "There'll be no fight at all. Do you really want to disappoint all these people? I'd honestly prefer that I didn't have to come all this way for nothing, either." Though he sounds rather uncaring, his words carry a certain undertone of persuasiveness, and it's not long at all before the announcer sees the light... Either that or he's just as scared of Ash as Rawhide, whoever he may be, was.
"There has been a chance of plans! With 'Rawhide' currently incapacitated, Ash Crimson, formerly the Chaos Agent, has been chosen as a substitute! Whenever both fighters are ready, you may begin!" Skirting around the Frenchman, the announcer is soon gone entirely from the arena's circle. Ash smiles in a self-satisfied manner. He quite likes getting his way, and pitting his skills against that of a former champion could be a real treat; he wasn't lying before when he had stated so. Why, it's even better than just randomly punching people!
After the first few minutes, Rock starts to feel awkward standing in the ring. The cheers of the crowd have died down into a murmuring din of confusion. Some of them yell at Howard, wondering if his lawyers got to Rawhide. They want to see this new fighter. They want to the know what type of new fighter can be good enough for Geese Howard to put him in a match with his son, a former champion? There must be something spectacular behind it.
Rock stops pacing after the fifth minute. He looks up to the crowds and gives a diffident shrug. "Maybe he went home?" he offers to the crowd, uncertainty cracking into a nervous grin. "I know I would if I had to fight me." Yeah, a little bravado too, to try and keep them entertained. Rock likes to have the crowd on his side when he can afford it. Truth is, the lack of Rawhide's arrival is just adding to his conspiracy theories that this is Mr. Big or Billy Kane in a mask and they're about to kick his ass.
Pacing stopped, Howard crosses his arms. He starts to hear some of the commotion coming from the locker room. He exchanges a confused look with the announcer. Neither knows what is going on, but Rock does know one simple truth: he'd better be ready because /something/ is going to come out of that portal and down those steps.
When it finally happens, it's the last thing Rock expected. He's never fought Ash Crimson before. He's heard of the French Fighter, but even as a super fighting fanatic, he hasn't had very many chances to actually see his matches. The appearance lives up to the hype. With each footfall on the steps during Ash's approach, Rock's eyes widen a little bit more.
The explanation comes and Rock's surprise melts into a squint and then ultimately a wry grin. So the 'man' wants to fight him? That's what this was all about? He wanted to go one on one. "Oh, you want a fight?" Howard says, a twang of sarcasm to his tongue. He immediately starts pacing the perimeter again, red eyes sizing the lithe french fighter up, like this was a heavy question to answer. "You could have just /asked/."
Like a Howard is ever going to turn down a chance to fight.
"Come on, then," Rock says, his paces stopping, his heels digging into the stone floor. Immediately, he shifts into a fighting stance. A familiar one. A Hakyokusaken style. His fingertips beckon Ash forward, taunting, teasing. Ever the son of Geese, even when he doesn't realize it. "Give it your best shot, princess."
COMBATSYS: Rock has started a fight here.
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Rock 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Ash has joined the fight here.
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Ash 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Rock
Huh. It would appear that he's not quite so unknown as he had originally thought, not some faceless anonymous member of the fighting circuit. What a pleasant surprise! Guess this means that Ash is slowly becoming something of a fight celebrity then, but too bad the Frenchman is the sort who fades into obscurity soon after. While he enjoys the attention, he's not very consistent; the young man only possesses so much interest for things before he becomes distracted, flitting on to something else. If it could be diagnosed, long ago would a doctor have branded him with the 'Ooo! Shiny!' syndrome. But just as how Rock is aware of Ash, the Frenchman is also very aware of the son of Geese Howard. Not because of their relationship, though. More that the younger fighter has been receiving quite a bit of attention from the media as of late, on television and in the papers, and Crimson is the sort of person who finds humour in the most unlikely of places. Flipping out because Yamazaki carries a knife? Been there, done that, and the overreaction was COMEDY GOLD. "Ahaha," he chuckles, almost a giggle, faintly. Clearly evident is his amusement at Rock's behaviour, and though the other young man's assumptions are wrong, Ash doesn't bother to clear up the misunderstanding over his reasons. He'll just leave it as is, because it's easier that way and allows them to get down to business.
As Rock lowers himself into a fighting stance, the style is lost on the Frenchman, whose own is something completely self-developed. Though the type to certainly observe various fights, he doesn't possess any interest in reading up on them, finding out all the obscure styles his opponents might have. Quite frankly, Ash doesn't care. Sorta like how he doesn't care to strike a starting stance, but given that he's been granted the honours in starting this fight, what's the point. "Princess, hmm?" He remarks softly, and hand departing from twisting that strand of hair over and over again, his fingertips ignite with emerald flames, bubbling up and casting a sickly sort of glow across his alabaster features. "Just for that, I suppose I shall." The flames grow stronger and brighter, and cutting through the air with one hand, Ash releases a crescent of fire, before following it up with a second, released from his other. They combine, and hurtle across the space in the arena that separates the two fighters while he... checks his nails, holding them up to the light. "Ahhh~hhh. There's a chip in the polish."
COMBATSYS: Rock blocks Ash's Ventose.
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Ash 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Rock
Rock thinks Ash is a fruitcake. But after fighting Twelve, disguised as a twelve year old fat kid, and almost losing? He never unestimates anyone. Appearances are so deceiving. Crimson is probably a tough as nails brawler who takes no prisoners. Or maybe he's just a French dandy who lucked into some chi powers. It doesn't matter. What matters is that the guy is going on the offensive and Rock is going to be ready.
Fresh off fighting a man who used a similar effect, Rock can see the licking tendrils of a flame assault a half-second before it fully ignites. It's not the same type of flame as Kain R. Heinlein, but the similarity is enough to let Rock react in turn. The two crescents rocket out, blanketing the arena in their green heat, and Rock slams one of his booted heels down in a bracing step back. Red eyes thinning clenched, he brings his arms sweeping across his body, using them to shield his mass from the swirling fire.
The heat hurts but he can deal with pain. Third degree burns would be something else entirely. Smoke coiling off the ground surrounding Rock's body, Howard slowly drops his arms. "Nice answer," he says, with a degree of approval. He could feel the latent power and potential behind that and respects that. Howard is in this to become the best fighter in the world; he relishes a worthy opponent. "I don't understand the Boy George getup, but whatever, that was a nice shot. You got any more in there?"
COMBATSYS: Rock focuses on his next action.
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Ash 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Rock
But of course, there's a fundamental difference between the Ankoku flames used by Kain, and those wielded by Ash, or the Kusanagi clan... Even the Yagami clan. While he might not appreciate you telling him so, and many people could hardly see the difference anyway, Heinlein's fire is just a cheap chi immitation. The fire that disperses against Rock's arms? Though they may be green, those flames are the real deal. As real as it possibly can be, a raw elemental force of the universe, and maybe he is just some French fruitcake who lucked into getting these powers, or a tough-as-nails brawler, but they'll know the truth once the fight is over. "Boy George?" Ash asks, almost rhetorically, confusion present on his sharp features, and as he looks away from his nails momentarily towards the Howard boy... Of course, Boy George doesn't look at all like Ash. And Ash doesn't wear makeup. Even /he/ has limits. "Ah well." His thin shoulders roll in a light shrug, signifying that WHOEVER this 'Boy George' may be, it's not really important to him, and his attention has already wandered elsewhere, back to the fight at hand.
Running a long finger along his generously curved jawline, he makes a soft noise of contemplation over the last question, "I wonder." Ash muses aloud, mysteriously, and beyond that, there's nothing else to be said. He starts forwards himself, this time. In fact, the Frenchman breaks into a run, before reaching for the front of Rock's shirt. If he manages to grab ahold of the boy, he'll skid to a stop, turn and use himself as a pivot to hurl Geese Howard's son in the direction Ash came dashing in from, hoping to introduce the kid rather roughly to the floor underfoot. Those who choose to hold back are to be taken advantage of, but any man who shows his hand at the very beginning of a fight is a fool. The flamewielder is wary, on guard just in case.
COMBATSYS: Rock counters Quick Throw from Ash with Gedan Crack Counter.
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Ash 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Rock
Rock stands his ground again. The kid is fearless. That's one of his biggest strengths and one of his biggest weaknesses. His eyes thin in on Ash's charge forward, tracing each slamming footfall of the French guy's feet into the stone floor, but he doesn't flinch. He pillars himself, he buoys all his focus and energy into his muscles. He tenses like a ripcord, fully extended and ready to snap.
Red eyes lock onto Crimson's core, feeling the momentum to his movements, anticipating their intention. Rock reads the language of their battle, and it all collides in his mind as Ash's fingertips curl into his black tank-top. Feeling the shift in weight in his opponent's body, Rock rolls with the force.
The ripcord snaps. Rock explodes into movement as Ash pivots. His legs thrust against the ground, shooting him in an acrobatic flip -- aided by Crimson's hip toss -- over the other guy's head. The cartwheel flip is smooth and graceful, Rock's heels somersaulting, and one of those same heels trailing the full arc of his own momentum to send it slamming for the back of Ash's head.
Landing on the opposite side of where he began in a crouch, Rock slowly rises back to his full height. He tilts his head over a shoulder, watching the result of one of his father's most powerful techniques. "Too slow," he chides, breaking into a full grin.
Unfortunately for Ash, the realisation that something has gone horribly wrong is too late when he's already begun to hurl the boy, and it just doesn't work. The kid's heels do indeed smash into the back of the Frenchman's head, and he dares not think of what Rock might have been stepping in. Like a strand of grass taken down by a particularly strong wind, Ash is bent under the force of the blow and sent face first towards the ground... Until he recovers at the last moment, that is. Stopping himself with one foot stomping forwards, he only gets as far as winding up hunched over, the strands of long white hair dancing just a breath away from his knee, and then he straightens. The movement is fluid and graceful. Catlike, even. It's also done with a cheshire smile. "Ahaha, I'd say so." Agreeing pleasantly that he was just too slow, Crimson reaches for the back of his head in what is definitely not a sheepish gesture, smoothing down the hair at the nape of his neck. Ew, dirt! ;_; And that Rock stole his line!
Standing up fully finally, he's left facing the back of Howard's son, and as soon as it seems that the Frenchman is done with his vanity parade, which only takes him a moment or two, he lashes out, trying to catch Rock before he can properly turn around... Ash is a cheap bastard. With a quick snap, the lean fighter is crouching before throwing himself into a rising kick, flipping over backwards in the process. He tries to punt the red-eyed boy into the air with him, his kicking foot alight with a gout of emerald flames, his other leg tucked in and his arms carefully spread wide to balance himself. There's a strange sort of elegance to it, almost inappropriate for a fighting maneuver, more like some kind of bizarre dance, and if all goes as planned he lands smoothly, with nary a sound, on his kicking leg.
COMBATSYS: Ash successfully hits Rock with Nivose.
- Power hit! -
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Ash 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Rock
Rock was going to continue his usual taunt. It involves him brushing his shoulder off to further convey the humiliation of having one of your assaults countered in a wildly ostentatious and unnecessary flipping kick. There's a reason Geese usually just grabs the guy by the arm and slams him into the ground when he swallows an attack; it's effective and without any showmanship. Rock's still young. He hasn't learned that lesson yet.
Just as Rock moves his hand towards his shoulder, he realizes his mistake. His eyes bulge wide, red spheres staring straight at a glowing green foot. The flip-kick of Crimson's own slams into Rock, leg barreling into his gut and thrusting forward. It shoots him off his heels, lifting him up into the air like a bad ballerina, his body slack and limp with surprise.
Momentum carries him to his apogee and then he comes crashing back to the ground. He lands like a wet rag on his back, his skin making a sizable and impressive sound as it smacks against the hard stone floor. It's a full two seconds before Rock fully knows what hits him. Red eyes stare straight up at the arena lighting. He blinks a few times and then he concludes, "Ow."
His body resists his will. His chest burns. It feels like a bowling ball was just sunk into it. It weighs a hundred pounds. He can't let the pain creep in; he can't let it fog his mind and slow his spirit. Teeth grinding, Rock shunts it all away; compartments of his brain that let him ignore the pain. Kicking back to his feet, he wipes a gloved hand through his air, bobs his head once at Ash, and then acts.
One and then two feet step forward, buoying with a sudden surge of chi energy. Rock's fingers flex and close into fists and then he cuts one of them up through the air. "DOUBLE!" he yells, slashing his other arm in the same motion upwards. "REPPUKEN!" With an audible roar, twin shears of bluish white chi explode off his body, snaking across the stone floor between them. The fans immediately stand up in their seats at seeing one of Geese Howard's most famous techniques.
COMBATSYS: Ash blocks Rock's Double Reppuken.
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Ash 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Rock
Oh ho? Now this is certainly familiar. Unknown to Rock, Ash has fought Geese Howard. Sent a private invitation to the enterprise's most famous landmark in Southtown, Geese Tower, the flamewielder and his cohort, the Shanghai-born 'God of Battle', engaged in quite the ruckus right there in Howard's office. They bested him, and almost distressingly easily, too. In fact, Ash spent most of the fight just hanging around, humming a little, sorting his hair... Just the usual things that anyone bored and as decidedly abnormal as the Frenchman would do. Whoever says that the brawler would be his own personal happy, punching meatsack dog would be correct, and Shen got the job done. Here and there, Crimson would chip in, and he certainly shut down the grande finale... But, this is all digression; the double reppuken is an attack that is no stranger to Ash, and thus, his method of dealing with it is very similar to the last time he saw one.
Facing down the chi with its interesting colours, the Frenchman lazily lifts a hand. It's a bit surprising that the kid has this energy, for his hit felt solid enough to knock the Howard boy stupid, but credit is given where it is due, and Ash brings his arm down upon the very center of the attack. Green flames coursing along his arms, as he neatly slices into the reppuken, it's unfortunate that there's a sting in his fingertips and the red sleeve with its intricate patterns smokes somewhat, but regardless of any miscalculation, the results are the same. The attack splinters, and soon is pushed off to the sides by his own chi until it shoots off into nothing, presumably burning itself off eventually. Ash straightens, examining his hand, burned around the knuckles. It's an irritating pain, but nothing serious. "Ahh... Interesting," he muses aloud, his blue eyes focusing past his hand and on Rock once more. "I think I've seen the like before... Somewhere?" Ash plays it off slyly, of course, unwilling to spell out the connection, and instead he focuses, drawing on his own chi, pulling energy to the surface. No, no holding back here.
COMBATSYS: Ash gathers his will.
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Ash 1/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Rock
"Yeah," Rock says back, gruffly, to the comment about having seen the Reppuken before. "I'm sure you have." He picks up on the vague allusion that Ash is making. He's guessing, probably correctly, that the guy is employing a little bit of psychological warfare on him. She's bringing up the memory of the man that Rock hates to try and rattle him. Kain would say he should let that blood boil; let it rise to the top and then channel the anger into strength.
The truth is that Rock is very impressed with Ash Crimson's fighting abilities so far. Everything he'd heard, in the little research he had to go on, is proving true. While Ash might be a newer face on the fighting circuit, he's still one that is growing in notoriety. Real die hards know that the guy can fight and fight well. They know that he's a walking torch like the two superheavyweights, Kyo and Iori, and that kind of thing has to be respected.
Rock swallows a gulp of arm, feeling the embers of chi smoke off his arms from the Reppukens. The shower of light at their splintering and subsequent explosion against the fighting pit's walls beyond Ash was impressive. He's rarely seen someone endure through one of those things so well. Worse yet, Ash barely seems rattled. "How about I introduce you to something else?" Howard asks, the frustration evident behind his voice.
Breaking forward into a full sprint, Rock closes the distance between them. He detects that Crimson is building up for something impressive and isn't going to allow him a spare second to breath. Slamming a foot into the turf, the rubber toe grinds for traction and Rock shoots into the air. Right hand curling as he rises into the air, he sends it blitzing forward on the downslope of his leap, extension pegged for Ash's jaw. There's nothing fancy here.
COMBATSYS: Rock successfully hits Ash with Medium Punch.
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Ash 1/-----==/=======|=====--\-------\0 Rock
That said, Rock and Ash would probably be quite surprised to learn how similar they are to one another, losing their mothers at a young age and being neglected by harsh fathers... Though their reactions to their similar pasts seem to be very different indeed.
Anyway, clearly he's gotten the boy's goat, and would be quite honoured to know that Rock thinks highly of his fighting ability thus far, but he's left in the dark, and watching the red-eyed blonde with his own eyes of a narrowed blue, Ash laughs musically. The kid's got spirit, though that much was evident the moment he picked up the news report. "I like you." The Frenchman states jovially, and placing a hand against his hip, "You're all right." And then Rock's rising into the air, but as Ash attempts to foil the boy's plans... He makes yet another mistake, raising his arms to block the strike too late, and this draws an irritated 'tch' from the flamewielder as the young man's fist gets past his guard. He's punished for that miscalculation, and the fist impacts with his jaw, snapping his head to the side and throwing the lean fighter temporarily off-balance. Stumbling back, he regains his footing soon enough, and his hand goes to the reddening area of his face, as if he'd been slapped, where the bruises from the LAST fight have almost faded. Nooo, now there's ANOTHER ONE.
"Saa, mon petit homme, if you're going to hit me, you'll need to make it count, oui?" As vain as the Frenchman is, he refrains from drawing any more attention to the strike after that, and as the boy lands on the ground, should his next move go as planned, Crimson will show him how such a punch is done. Ash brings his hand up and then swings it down, attempting to floor the Howard heir harshly in a lesson, with a rough overhand hit that shows some surprising strength. While he may like Rock, that won't stop the Frenchman from beating the kid bloody. This is a match, after all. And he DID get hit in the face. He doesn't like that at all.
COMBATSYS: Rock counters Messidor from Ash with Gedan Crack Counter.
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Ash 1/---====/=======|=======\-------\0 Rock
Sometimes, the simplest pleasures are the best pleasures. A straight jumping face punch is just what Rock Howard needed to get his footing back about him in this fight. He almost forgot, for a few minutes, that there were several thousand people surrounding them watching every movement with baited breath. And a few million more at their homes around the world. The stitches and bandages around his chest are all the reminder he needs of what he's fighting for here.
Pulling his fist back after the satisfaction hums in the sound of knuckle on bone, Rock takes two sharp backsteps from Ash. He isn't sure about how physical the other fighter will get -- so far he's mostly kept his distance from Rock, relying on his flame techniques to keep Rock from catching his breath. But with such an opportunity presented, not even the greatest fireball wizard on the planet wouldn't seize a chance to answer Rock's blow with one of their own.
That's what Rock is counting on. Crimson comes at him hard and furious, born on a ballad of compliments. Rock will thank the guy for them after he's done knocking him out. It's all business now. The Howard blood is pumping full and fast. Red eyes squint, weight shifts, and Crimson's fist finds it's forward force being devoured by the left palm of the young Howard.
Rock's heels grind against the stone floor, the impact energy of the strike sending him grinding back almost a foot on his feet. But the important thing is that all of that energy is swallowed, gone, and more importantly -- Crimson's ribs are exposed. Without any further hesitation, Rock throws his palm down in release of Crimson's fist, pivots forward a step, and sends his right arm's elbow spinning straight towards the lithe french fighter's ribs.
"Did that count?" he asks, knuckles swiping his forehead to toss some hair.
There's a difference between anger and confidence. Though strange, Ash is not honestly the type to lose his temper often, and when it DOES happen, it's usually due to his brainless roommate doing something stupid. Like punching him. Shen punches Ash far more than he would like. But Rock, no... this is confidence, even arrogance, and it proves to be his undoing. As the downward swing of his fist is caught by the other fighter's hand, there's a brief knitting of his thin eyebrows together at the center. In confusion, questioning, contemplating... But he's not left in wonder long. As much as he HATES getting hit in the face, Ash is far less pleased with being struck in the ribs by a solid elbow. His nose wrinkles, white teeth are bared momentarily and perhaps the wind's been knocked out of him, but it's hard to tell. He doesn't gasp for breath, just sucks in the air with a hiss.
Wrapping an arm about his torso, over where his ribs were hit, he curls reflexively around it his injury, and... Is Ash going to be sick? He might've been hit in the area protecting his stomach! Looking down at the ground, he makes no reponse to Rock's inquiry and... Should the announcer disqualify him? Is he incapable of fighting already?
It starts softly, a quiet sound that builds with a deliberate pace... Soon after rising into the air, and even the cheering crowds of the arena fall silent. Ash is giggling. The sound in of itself is hollow, and disturbing echoing in the arena oddly, and then a flicker of green flames cuts in front of him. It leads down to the circle of emerald that traces itself around his feet, before an explosion engulfs the white-haired fighter entirely, a rising column of flame casting a sickly, unnatural light on the proceedings. The roar that accompanies the blast is deafening, and the fans in the audience who recognize this begin to shriek enthusiastically all over again. The Frenchman straightens in the center, and after a blink, there's a slight strangeness to his eyes. Perhaps, maybe even for a split second, the irises appear as red as the clothes he wears, as red as Rock's own, but only just for that very moment. Extending his arms out to each side, his head falls gracefully back.
"It's not enough..." the Frenchman replies, finally. The flames, with Ash still trapped in the center of the burning inferno, are like poetry in motion. They coil and weave like a living entity, spitting out licks of fire from their sides. His white hair lifts momentarily, and the green and yellow is reflected on his pale face when it flares impressively all around him. Ash then, his back arching as it reaches for the ceiling above, seems to control the fire with just his will alone, and it suddenly goes crashing forwards. A wall, a wave... it doesn't really matter, and it seeks to consume Rock in searing heat and emerald flame.
COMBATSYS: Rock interrupts Sans-Culottes from Ash with Raging Storm'.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
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Ash 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Rock
Howard is feeling his own music. The momentum of the fight has shifted in his favor, for the moment, and he can feel that he's getting to Ash. His opponent is starting to make a few mistakes and Rock is finding that he can see the windows and smash through them, properly. His father's training, his tutelage by Kain and Grant, and even the time he spent with Terry Bogard -- time that feels like very long ago -- is all working in harmony right now. But the confidence might be his undoing.
When the column of green energy dances out and then around Ash Crimson, Rock is forced to double back a step. He squints through the sudden thrust of energy and light, his sweat-slicked forearm rising to shield his eyes as he tries to make out what Ash is preparing to unveil. When that strangeness settles in Ash's eyes, Rock swallows. He gets a terrible premonition of what is about to happen. It reminds him of the face of his father. It reminds him of Rashoumon. It reminds him of being launched off Geese Tower by a concussive thrust of the most powerful chi he's ever tasted. It reminds him of his father catching him by the arm, saving his life in the wake; preventing him from the Howard legacy of plummeting to his death after a glorious battle.
The heat washes out across Rock. It's intensity is severe, pain driven by ancient arts and mystic powers. But the only roar Rock Howard can feel is that of his burning blood. Skin sizzling, body, mind, and heart roaring with pain... Rock rushes straight through the wall of the Sans-Culottes. The ancient fire barrels around him, a tempestuous flury and fussilade of flowing power. Two steps are taken, each one feeling like a standoff with the devil himself, Howard piercing the barrier of fire with his chest uncurling a cry.
"RAAGGGIINNNG!" he yells, fists exploding with energy, body pillaring and then hammering all of it's residual energy into the very fabric of the arena. The stone foundation beneath Rock's feet buckles, a spiderweb series of crackling rips twisting out from around him. The emerald meets gold, a radius of concussive chi energy that explodes in an outward shockwave of blinding light. "STOOOOOORRRRRRRRM!"
Caught up in the musical whirlwind of fire and heat, Ash is quite positive that whatever the boy may do, he will suffer fiery pain and agony... But something happens, and it's not that Ash had never taken the action into his calculations, but he's surprised nonetheless that Rock would even have the drive to do so. The corner of his mouth curls into a self-satisfied smirk, though. Even if the boy barrels through the flames, taking on the pain and sweet burning sensation that comes along with it, is there anything he can do afterwards?
The floor splinters in answer to Ash's inward question, and he's seen this particular trick before, as well. Geese Howard himself had attacked him with the very same technique and the Frenchman had coldly denied him. Unfortunately, he's unable to do so now, and so Crimson shields his face, and the force of the explosion as the emerald flames meets gold sends him and chunks of the stone foundation underfoot flying. Though he certainly makes an effort at a landing, some distance away, grace and flourish fail the flamewielder momentarily. One foot touches down, but it's on debris, and he crashes unceremoniously on his side, skidding painfully over rock splinters big and small until coming to a rest. A large chunk of foundation crash lands just inches away from his face... And Ash's smallish blue eyes, more often than not half-lidded, go wide in shock, before he places a cut hand against the flooring. It leaves a few crimson droplets in its wake when he rises, and not only is the front of his fighting outfit dirty, it's charred as well. He exhales upwards, into his long fringe, full face visible briefly. Well, uh... that was interesting! But it was also... not as overwhelmingly punishing as he had figured it might be. He's quite certain that for all the damage he took, Rock is certain to have taken nearly as much. So who really has the advantage now?
"Ahhh~hhh." Reaching down, Ash scoops up the large chunk of rock that COULD'VE crushed his skull moments before. "You really shouldn't be destroying the arena like that." Because it gives him something to use without getting close and thrusting himself into the midst of another counter. Hefting the rock over his head with both hands, the announcer screams in the background, over the loudspeaker! NopleaseIbegofyoudon'tdothatyou'lljustmakethedamageworse! it sounds like the poor man pleads frantically, but Ash doesn't care in the least. Instead, he takes a step forwards, and though he's such a skinny guy, Crimson puts all of his strength into it as he hurls the broken stone straight at the other fighter across the arena, hoping to catch the kid as he comes out of the Raging Storm. HEADS UP!
COMBATSYS: Rock blocks Ash's Large Thrown Object.
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Ash 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Rock
Southtown Arena has been through worse than a Howard Raging Storm. The place has been built more times than even the popular Shaolin Temple Ruins just outside of southern Southtown. Part of it's archaic charm is that it's almost layered. Level after level and rendition after rendition of the arena has been built on top of itself. They'll smooth the stone floor, replace some of the buckling seats, and the place will reopen with another famous match.
Rock cools down after the Raging Storm. His breathing comes in and out in deep thrusts, audible despite the cracking sound of stones and rubble. He struggles to find his wind, thirsting for the necessary air to keep his mind working. This fight has been a war. Between the flames and the chi, the entire place is falling apart around them. Yet, it's a testament to their willpower and their desire to win that all the fans? They haven't budged an inch.
Rock ignores the announcer's cries when the chunk of rock is sent at him. He's more concerned with trying to deal with it. Without any options -- he's too stuck in the ground to dive out of the way and too tired to try and blast it with a Reppuken -- Rock does the only thing left to him. He holds on for dear life, bracing his arms across his head and ducking into the oncoming stone. It slams into his arms, breaking apart and splintering around his body. Shards of stone crumble and skid in a puff of stoney dust behind him, skidding across the still stable portion of the fighting pit.
"Whatever it takes?" Rock asks, between breathes and holding his bandaged chest, having been forced down to a knee from the slab of stone. It's hard to tell if he approves of Ash's tenacity and strategy or not. He makes it much more clear when he starts to grin, readopting his original fighting stance, his heels digging into the remaining floor. "Give me all you got, Crimson."
COMBATSYS: Rock focuses on his next action.
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Ash 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Rock
And so the rock smashes against the Howard boy's forearms, cracking and forcing him to his knees. It's not a solid hit, and for that Ash is somewhat disappointed, but would fighting really be any fun if things went his way all the time? While it would certainly feed his already impressive ego, Crimson wouldn't bother in the first place if he couldn't be surprised, couldn't be challenged... If he wasn't able to learn anything about his opponent, aside from how to meticulously tear them apart.
With a soft, effeminate giggle, he folds one arm across his midsection, and using the thin wrist as a rest for his opposite elbow, draws that hand to his face. Lightly, the Frenchman runs the tip of a finger over his cheek, the dirt and blood leaving a smear on his freckled features that stands out in stark contrast to the pale skin like war paint, but he doesn't really notice. "I wouldn't call it desparation, but I will use whatever is available. They say if a man fights a battle with his fists, should you give him a sword, he will use it until it breaks... This is the same principle, non?" Or is Ash... trying to confuse the boy with his strange validation of his actions? No matter. The proof is in the proverbial pudding, after all.
Heading across the arena and closing the distance still existing between them, there's the usual swagger in his walk, with his hips in full sashay, because he really is an oddity of a man. "You should also..." Bloody, dirt-covered hand extending for the boy's face, once he's there. "Be careful what you ask for." Should he get ahold of Rock, his fingernails will dig into the sides, and he won't hesitate after that to explode the boy away with the searing green fire once again. It's a pity because the kid certainly is attractive, but he's bound to heal up fine. It's not like Ash is trying to permanently disfigure him... is he? He's no Yamazaki, right?
COMBATSYS: Rock blocks Ash's Brumaire.
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Ash 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Rock
Rock is going to end up in the hospital again at this rate. He's way too tired to be trying anything fancy at this point in the fight. He's trying to just keep himself going on fumes and the simple determination to never lay down. It's a philosophy driven into him by every person he's ever known. Even the monster, his father, Geese Howard? He stressed the simple truth of a fighter's life -- if you can keep fighting longer than the guy across the ring from you, you're gonna win. If you can get up more times than him, you're gonna win.
Ash's weird, slightly ghoulish grip, manages to swallow a handful of Rock's hair. At this rate, Howard is going to end up in the hospital for the second week in a row. Rather than twist away, or try and parry or counter the arm before the flames can fully ignite, he just locks his eyes down the length of Crimson's extended arm. Briefly there, in that instant, the other fighter might see that famous grin of his father. He might feel that wreckless, nearly frightening, abandon. It's the release of a guy who doesn't care if he lives or dies.
The emerald fires burn as bright as ever. They shoot down for Rock's face and then, and only then, does he react. Ripping himself free of the grip, Rock twists down at the waist, the heat scourging across his back and shoulders with a flourishing roar. The bandages -- long ago charred brown and barely clinging to Rock's skin -- finally ignite into their own dancing column of smoke. Rock ignores it.
Twisting back around, he does what's worked. Earlier, he jumped and cracked Ash square in the jaw. Now, he does it again. Only he adds more to it. Leaping -- in such a close proximity -- Rock's body explodes with golden light. Chi manifests down his spin, bursting outward from his back, as his right arm pulls back. He barrels towards Ash, probably into him, and then he thrusts his fist straight forward. The chi is swallowed by the momentum of his knuckles, exploding on his full extension in a nova of power. It's a famous technique -- it's a variation learned from one of the people Rock holds above all the rest -- a silent anthem to his appreciation for the Legendary Wolf.
COMBATSYS: Rock successfully hits Ash with Rage Run Dunk.
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Ash 0/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Rock
Ash would, however, say that it /does/ matter whether you live or die. Life is a very important thing, and one will never achieve anything by throwing it away. To fight with such reckless abandon is far more detrimental than it is beneficial, the sort of thing attributed to lunkheads like Shenwoo, who think more of punching the other person hard than not getting their fool selves killed. Very concerned with his own well-being, Ash puts himself before others, and while he's willing to take risks to fulfill his own goals, he's not foolish enough to leap into a fight that he can't win. An arrogant flamewielder, the Frenchman is nevertheless very in tune with his limits and capabilities... And if there's any rule he follows no matter what, it's this: He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day.
Anyway, let's get back to the match at hand, shall we? Rock's reaction makes no difference to him as he grasps the boy by the hair... Although, it's clear from the face Ash makes that he's reminded of something... Though just what is a topic better left untouched, and buried in the past of his life, where it belongs. But the kid's recovery afterwards is brilliant, and he observes the boy's withdrawal impassively, the dark pupils in the depths of baby blue irises narrowing. He's clearly thinking, and certainly won't disagree with the other fighter's logic. When something is tried and true, why change it just for change's sake? But he's already figured out a thing or two about Rock's movements... Crimson moves to the side, in order to let the kid just fly past him, but instead that fist barrels into his shoulder, because this isn't QUITE the same thing, and the Frenchman's knees buckle under the force.
He's slammed down on his back hard enough that the wind DOES wind up knocked right out of him, and the back of his head hits the stone, his vision rocked to the point where he can't see straight momentarily. The Frenchman lets out a low groan, and then, sitting up somewhat and twisting to the side, elbow resting against the flooring to support himself, he just lays there, taking in deep breaths until... He can't fight anymore. He's been quite thoroughly chipped away at, and while it's not that he doesn't have the stamina for perhaps one last strike, this is certainly the end, and Rock... is not Elisabeth, and has done nothing to earn Crimson's enmity, or otherwise merit his full effort. There will be no further actions on Ash's part, save for this... Rising up off the partially shattered arena foundation finally, Ash extends his hand in a rather sportsmanlike manner to the red-eyed blonde, with a seemingly genuine smile. "I'm afraid that's it for me. C'est un plaisir, mon petite homme. I've had fun." Though however sportsmanlike he might be acting, he doesn't ACTUALLY concede defeat in any explicit way.
COMBATSYS: Ash takes no action.
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Rock 0/-------/--=====|
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Rock 0/-------/--=====|
Rock isn't sure, he doesn't know French, but he thinks that Ash just called him a tiny friend. What he's more unsure of is if he actually defeated Ash Crimson, or if the guy just finally realized it might have been an uphill battle and threw in the towel. Either way, when the hand if proffered, Rock hestitates for a second. Red eyes screw up as his head tilts, eyeing the olive branch for a second, before he finally relents. The crowds around them seemed to enjoy the match and he did work up a good sweat. It's also the first time since he fought Yamazaki that he hasn't felt the wound in his chest burning with pain.
He might finally be recovered. Taking Ash's hand, Rock gives it two good pumps and then bobs his head at the other fighter. The crowd approves of their sportsmanship with some cheers. "Thanks for the fight," Rock says, meaning it. He always likes a challenge and Ash has given him one of the best he's felt in quite awhile. "I'm sure we'll make the highlights."
Remembering how this all started, Rock adds with a glance towards the entryway to the fighting pit. "Next time you want a rematch?" He still thinks Rawhide is a Geese Goon. "Slaughter at least two of my dad's meatheads."
The announcer takes over from there, with a measure of relief that the carnage is finally over.
COMBATSYS: Rock has ended the fight here.
With the offer taken, hopefully Rock washes his hands afterwards, ahaha! There still blood and dirt staining those belonging to the Frenchman, who rather regrets the fact that he left his gloves at home, but c'est la vie. "I'll keep that in mind." And his smile grows, to the point where he looks positively fox-like, the red marking on his chin where he was struck in the face finally starting to turn purple from bruising. "I wonder if that man's been plucked out from the trash yet." With an edge to the flamewielder's voice as the announcements boom overhead, he has absolutely no sympathy for 'Rawhide', regardless of whether the man was a goon of Geese's or not. The Frenchman then turns on his heel, and waving as he leisurely strolls with those effeminate movements to the entrance from where he had come from, it was an entertaining fight. At least, though the boy wasn't worth his final effort, Rock was deserving enough of his power, and he witnessed some fairly interesting things himself. "Until next time. Adieu!"
Log created on 18:36:44 06/10/2007 by Rock, and last modified on 13:01:38 06/14/2007.