Description: Intermission for a scandalous opera brings Krizalid and Duke to blows over a relatively minor encounter. Duke starts off strong, but Krizalid proves himself more tenacious than expected -- and himself less so.
Through the magic of time and space, and fueled primarily by the laziness not to move into another room, this is not Chinatown at all -- but rather, the majestic Opera House in Metro City! Amazing, it looks just like Chinatown, but let me underline this one, oh wait that code won't work, well let's just break the fourth wall a little further and clearly that it's not. Because it's not.
Rather, there is a beautiful opera on tonight, the Spanish Fly meets the Flytrap, a captivating and rather loud, piercing, wailing tale of a young girl's strange, erotic journey from Milan to Minsk. Suffice it to say, it's about damn time there was an intermission.
The talk in the lobby, and rather monstrously large queue to get refreshment and use the bathroom, is mostly about the upcoming fight for the Junior League title.
"I hear that Brit's got the biggest oar this side of a cruise liner."
"Cruise liner's don't use oars, you dummy."
"I hear that kid he's facing is a nobody beatnik who doesn't stand a chance."
"I wouldn't mind getting some of his DNA on file..."
An awkward silence ensues, and with a rather long glance between the group, the majority... move to the other line. It leaves Krizalid by himself, clad in a suit with tails and all the little extras, from cufflinks shaped like whips through to a pretty little red bowtie. "What, was it something I said?" he asks of those who depart him, before giving off a long-suffered sigh. People just don't understand him. And this line just isn't moving!
Thus, he taps the person in front of him in the shoulder, and asks in his most pleasant Irish accent, "Mind if I cut?"
Il Paradiso Opera House, Chinatown. That doesn't sound exactly right, does it? Well, that's where it is today, through a combination of wicked sorcery and the power of the reality-warping sceneset. Chinatown today is Metro City. It's basically the same thing. Mayor Mike Haggar would look slightly more Asian, but who notices these things, anyway?
The atrium of Metro City's newest hub for the rich and high class thrums with life during the intermission of the opera, as it is wont to do during any piece -- especially those on the sligtly bored or needlessly absurd side. The wide chambers of the lobby are filled with men and women in clothing far too expensive to be necessary, chatting away and sharing a snobbish laugh or two. Chatter goes on about those things that concern the rich and the famous. Cars, stocks, pet black giant cats, taking DNA from young boys.
The usual.
--Wait, no. That last one seems to have turn several eyes towards the origin, and silently, the rich snobs of Metro City stare blankly at Krizalid. DNA gathering is, apparently, too decadent -- even for a rather large, hedonistic man near Krizalid wearing a gold suit; he shakes his head and walks off, proclaiming something along the lines of "How ruthlessly absurd!" and leaving the poor Irishman to his lonesome.
Relatively speaking, of course. The atrium is still packed, and the line leading to the bathrooms is a long one; no doubt there will be some -stimulating- conversation for the white-haired Irishman there. Conversation he even goes so far to initiate. The simplest taps of the shoulder stirs the attention of the man in front of him; large, both in height and build, and dressed in fine black clothes, the man says nothing at first. Instead, there is awkward silence, before he turns. Dark eyes focus on Krizalid. Slowly, a gloved hand lifts, touching up against his neck -- something hidden beneath his three-piece attire of black and red.Brows furrow--
"... No. Exercise some patience, hm...?" he finally intones, before he turns around. Giving Krizalid the cold shoulder, so to speak, the man returns his focus to the front. Brief as it may be, Krizalid may notice the man based on facial features alone -- a relatively unknown enforcer of the Southtown Syndicate, one rising through the ranks.
It seems even gangsters like Duke enjoy the opera every now and again.
Left alone in short order, it's only natural that the white-haired Irishman decides that he wishes to make his way through the line so he can find his way back to his seat in the most prompt fashion possible. There's just something about this young girl's erotic journey that he is finding downright... stimulating!
But after tapping the man in front of him in the shoulder, the lack of an immediate response puts some wind into his sails, and the playful side of Krizalid emerges; the hand lifts, about to poke the slightly taller and considerably bulkier man again, when finally the black-clad brute turns to regard him.
And summarily shut him down.
If there was meant to be any recognition, it simply flies over the short white hair that the Operative sports. "Hey, come on, don't be like that now, lad; we can purchase together, at the least. There's no need to be so very rude about it, my friend!" Ah yes, what a capital idea already this is proving to be. If he won't be let past, then he'll simply have to... annoy the hell out of Duke instead!
Never mind the fact that he's actually poking the taller gent with a pointed claw, but really; he does it again! This time, a bit harder! "Come on, man! You seem like a nice enough guy, beyond being big and wearing black and being... well... slow to respond! A mental handicap, perchance?
"Hey what, you got a problem, you wanna fight about it?"
Lifting his dukes (ah-ha-ha!) he shifts from one foot to another, almost as if inviting a punch to the face!
COMBATSYS: Krizalid has started a fight here.
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Krizalid 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Duke has joined the fight here.
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Duke 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Krizalid
It's strange to see the rapid devolving of civil conversation -- relatively speaking -- on the part of the Irishman into obvious proddings for a fight. At first, Duke is more than content to simply ignore the strangely white-haired man, his obvious abnormalities aside. After all, -Duke- doesn't look like he should be here either. And he more than deserves to be. But then--
--But then, as his back is presented to Krizalid once more, he feels an oddly -clawed- finger prodding into his side. Harder. "..." Nothing at first. No movements, accept for the slow, steady shift forward. Another poke, even harder, and Duke lets out a soft 'hmph,' intent on continuing on his way... save for one thing that makes him stop to actually consider the other man.
The look of him. Those claws, that hair, the markings on his eyes, all make him pause long enough to hear the rapid degredation of Krizalid's speach from polite and understanding, to jeering and insulting... to outright -hostile-. That enough merits an odd lifting of his brow as the large Syndicate lieutenant shifts, looking towards Krizalid, and then towards the doors of the opera house. Slowly, he gives a discreet nod to one of the ushers, who seems to react, walking towards that entrance hastily. "You shift from polite to trying to outright fight me, and you claim I have a mental handicap?" A pause.
"The Irish have a better sense of irony than I'd give them credit for."
Turning fully on his heel, though, Duke's muscles tense between that nice, fashionable attire as he looks towards the now fight-ready Krizalid. "If you're that -hungry- for a fight though, 'lad'..." Instantly, Duke's right hand snaps out. Yet, instead of going for a punch to the face? He's going to attempt to grab the other man by the neck, and then thrust -FORWARD-, to rocket him straight through the air and towards the now-open doors leading to the outside world.
"Let's take this -outside.- Wouldn't want to upset the fine people here."
COMBATSYS: Krizalid interrupts Quick Throw from Duke with Typhon's Rage - Reflect.
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Duke 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Krizalid
Duke looks stunned as his hand suddenly reverses direction, grabs him by the throat, and throws him STRAIGHT INTO THE OPERA HOUSE!
No wait, no, no, not quite! While Duke is giving discrete instructions to people beyond him -- and indicating that he's the one who is handicapped, and not the Enforcer himself -- Krizalid simply waits. Except for that moment where he turns to look in the direction that the taller brute is nodding.
And in that moment, Duke strikes; a hand coming for his neck, a vicious throw that seeks to send him right out of the opera house despite his finery. "Hey, don't mess with my bowtie," the Irishman cries out as he's struck, pushed back initially -- but there's a sudden whoosh as his arm strikes back.
Chi-laced winds sickle the air, more of an automated defensive response than anything else; they seek to drive Duke back, to thwart the attempt to make good on his exit out of the building!
Stumbling back though, the Operative lifts a hand to his throat, clearing it noisily before he straightens the tie. "Really now, my friend; surely these fine people here would be entirely more interested in watching the two of us give each other what-for, rather than returning to this charming story about a young girl's erotic journey..."
On that note, several of the men return to the theatre, eager for the next act. For his part, Krizalid offers a sigh, and then lifts both hands up, elbows to the floor, fists cocked; it's time for some fisticuffs! "Well then, knave! Let's dance!"
Let's dance!
It's rather shocking, to see his own swift assault suddenly thwarted by Krizalid's quick movements. His hand grasps at the white-haired man's throat, and only a moment later -- chi swirls up in a brief storm of wind, conjured in the instant he seeks to hurl the NESTS executive straight out the door.
Instead, those sickles of power slice through Duke's expensive clothes, blasting him backwards from the fury of those winds. Any surprise is swiftly replaced by narrowed eyes and a grimace of pain as Duke reorients himself, landing solidly on his feet just a short distance from Krizalid. He pauses, and stares. And then, he allows himself a wry sort of smile.
"'Friend'?" He echoes, watching as several men rush past him in order to see that highly erotic (and charming) adventure reach its conclusion. "If you're so insistent about fighting here, very well..." As Duke speaks, he loosens his tie, cracks his neck. Beneath his collar, the glimpses of that jagged scar can be seen.
"I can't make any promises about your bowtie, though."
Duke's hands clench into fists. However -- he doesn't charge out towards Krizalid again. Instead, he lifts his right leg into the air, as if going for a high kick of some sort. The distance between the two is too great, though, for him to ever actually be able to hit the Irishman. And instead? Duke just stomps his foot -right- into the ground so violently that tremors erupt in a violet wave from his foot, creating something of a miniature earthquake meant to knock Krizalid off his feet -- only to be blasted -backwards- by a sudden surge of fiery chi that blazes outward in a circle across the ground at Duke's feet. "GRAAAARGH!!"
COMBATSYS: Duke successfully hits Krizalid with Seismic Impact.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
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Duke 0/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Krizalid
It's most definitely a charming adventure, but the one unfolding there in the lobby is not without its own charms. Particularly not as, on Duke's attempt to send waves of energy at him, the Irishman attempts to charge FORWARD instead of away!
And boy, does it go awry! The Irishman is knocked back, sent hurtling back to slide along the lobby's plush carpet for a ways, until his limp body meets one of the walls. "My, that was a pleasant journey," he says with a twisted smile as he pushes himself back to his feet. There's a long sigh from him as he spreads his arms, straightening out the suit he's wearing. "Now, your charming Neanderthal cry aside, my new found bosom buddy, allow me to show you... your mistake."
Despite the fact that he just smoothed the suit down, he suddenly bursts into flames -- and the suit ignites into fine ash, revealing the rather tanned Irishman's battle suit!
YES, he was wearing it under the elegant opera suit!
Lifting out one hand with a flame in the palm of his hand, he snuffs it out rather harshly. Straightening the bowtie that still resides about his neck, he dashes forward, boots sliding along the carpet as he flexes those clawed fingers. The space between them is closed in a heartbeat, and both hands clench -- and fists slam forward, one for Duke's face and the other for his middle!
COMBATSYS: Duke interrupts Strong Punch from Krizalid with Tall Hammer.
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Duke 1/-----==/=======|=======\=------\1 Krizalid
Well, watching someone burn off all their clothes into some sort of gaudy violet monstrosity of a bondage suit isn't something you see every day.
Irregardless, given Krizalid's demeanor, it's not exactly shocking.
Duke stands fully in the wake of his blast, adjusting the slightly tattered suit he wears; two long cuts carry through the right sleeve and the lower torso of the suit, showing small gashes oozing with dark red blood. He seems to either not -notice- or not -care- about this, however, opting instead to focus on dusting off his shoulders and ensuring that his relatively damaged attire remains at its most impeccable. Krizalid's seem to fall on deaf ears for all the recognition of the man offers. Instead, he runs a gloved hand down his sleeves, arching a brow at the sudden illumination of flames that heat the room.
Krizalid rushes forward, and for all the world, Duke doesn't even seem to give the man a second thought. He tugs his sleeve, nods to himself, and then --
"I think -you're- mistaken."
Clawed fingers sweep forward in a blur, a fist coming for Duke's face. It all happens in an instant. With a -WHUD- of impact, Krizalid's fists strike... and graze off shoulder and side as Duke suddenly surges forward, his right hand launching upward in a brutal uppercut. "HRAAARGH!!" The force alone should knock Krizalid into the air, where it's followed by a second assault, Duke stepping forward, planting his foot into the ground, and SWEEPING his left fist forward to crush directly into Krizalid's ribcage, to send him up, up and away.
"Maybe you should just give up and go home, hm?"
Mistaken indeed, and perhaps the Irishman should indeed just give up and go home; he strikes meaty shoulder, and for his effort is the recipient of not one, but two heavy fists into his body. The result, as one would expect, is him once more sent tumbling across the atrium. He lands, and he bounces, never one to stay still -- bounces right back to his feet!
"Oh, how utterly refreshing... this is making the most charming of intermissions," Krizalid slurs his words, the expression on his face somewhat twisted as he touches a hand to his side, where one of those strikes impacted. His suit feeds him a myriad of data on this opponent, who is certainly not the slovenly, fat fool he had anticipated. And it demands more data come through -- and there's only one way to go about that!
Rolling up his proverbial sleeves, he decides that it's time to get downright dirty. "As charming as it would be to go home," he says from amidst those macabre markings, beady eyes staring right through Duke, "I paid the price of admission and indeed, the show is not yet over..."
The Irish lilt recedes as he trails off. Lifting his hands high, he does the sane thing; he attacks from a distance! Igniting into flame, he brings both arms slashing down opposite to one another -- and the WORST POSSIBLE FATE OF ALL seeks Duke out!
A FLAMING CROSS!!!
Oh wait it's an 'X'. Guess what the treasure is!
(pro-tip: its pain)
COMBATSYS: Duke Toughs Out Krizalid's End of Heaven!
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Duke 1/-======/=======|=------\-------\0 Krizalid
Certainly this isn't all that Krizalid has in store for Duke. He knows that well enough -- he remembers seeing this white-haired man in various televised events. Neo Leagues -- the ever-popular Saturday Night Fight. And there is nothing to scoff at about him.
Which just means it will make this fight all the more -amusing-.
Considering Krizalid silently for a moment, Duke rolls his shoulders, preparing -- ever so patiently -- for whatever the Irishman might have planned next. The NESTS third-in-command goes bouncing once, and then lands right on his feet -- seemingly still completely fit and capable to continue the fight. Duke lifts a brow, his arms and legs tensing. Something is coming, that much he's certain of. He hears that faint Irish accent pervading his ears, teasing yet all the more. And he smirks.
"Then come at me with everything you've got."
And so he does. Not rushing in this time, Duke sees the tell-tale signs of what is to come. Crimson flames dance across the white-haired man's arms, and suddenly... he thrusts them FORWARD in a sudden burning cross of power. The inferno heats the entire atrium, boiling and burning stone and carpet alike as it tears a path to Duke. And he does the only sane thing.
He runs right into it.
One charge, mustering all his power, all his rage, Duke BURSTS across the pristine marble flooring of the marble, thrusting one hand forward as he goes. His fist crashes against that 'X' of fire, tongues of power licking across his hand, his arms, his chest and face... but not for long. Because in that one swift battering motion, Duke DISPERSES the flames and continues on--
--aiming to slam his fist right across Krizalid's face.
"GRAAAAAARGH!!!"
COMBATSYS: Duke successfully hits Krizalid with Volcanic Bomb.
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Duke 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Krizalid
WHAMMO! KAPOW! FA--
One punch, Duke carries more than enough force to just SLAM Krizalid into the ground like little more than a sack of potatoes (haha Irish jokes it's late). Before Krizalid can fully hit the ground, though, Duke is swift to lash out, gripping the other man by the legs with his massive, gloved hands. He spins once, twice, three times, building up speed and momentum with each rotation -- before he simply HURLS Krizalid right out the door as he had originally intended.
For good reason, as well. The moment that Duke releases, he rushes straight towards the other man, blazing across the distance just underneath him. The moment that Krizalid is out and descending towards the cold streets below? Duke LEAPS, rapidly ascending towards the NESTS exec, getting a secure hold onto him before simply -powerbombing- him into the ground with so much tremendous force that the cement beneath them explodes in a rain of debris, large chunks of stone and street flying in every direction.
As soon as Krizalid hits the ground with such a massive impact, Duke pushes off, landing easily on his feet -- a hand slipping into his pocket.
Apparently Krizalid has been knocked around and powerbombed outside, or so the one-sentence summary says! Not having anticipated -- or rather, having thought that Duke had more sense -- his strike to be charged through so cavalier-like, the Irishman is left somewhat aghast when what he is faced with, as a result, is little more than pain. A fist to the face heralds the descent into agony, as he is swung about like a red-headed stepchild and then thrown through the doors.
It all culminates with the slam into the cement, as if the Rock himself had come out and delivered the blow! "Och that's a sweet stingin' sensation in the base o' me spine," he lilts each word, grimacing as he spreads out onto his back. If there's any further damage, no doubt the suit will tend to that -- like putting his spine back in proper alignment, for instance.
Ultimately though, he comes back to his feet, somewhat groggy as he stares down the man with the hand in his pocket. "Well, lad... ya certainly not the average Opera goer, now are ya?"
Calling a spade a spade, he brushes off some of the debris that had collected on his suit, not to mention all that fine cement dust. Without further adieu though, he launches into what may possibly be his final strike; he charges forward, and simply seeks to bury his foot deep into Duke's physique -- and then utilizing his own, lift the Enforcer high and slam him down into the pavement!
COMBATSYS: Krizalid successfully hits Duke with Lethal Impact.
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Duke 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\0 Krizalid
There's never enough time to properly deal with sudden, brutal assaults after you've viciously slammed someone into the ground with the force of a high-explosive bomb. Duke always has trouble recovering from such things -- it shows when he slowly starts to peel backwards, eyeing the sudden onrush of the man before him. It seems that Irish accent of his has come in full swing with the more beatings he receives; Duke doesn't mind. It's just one more irritation about this man to deal with.
What he is not prepared to deal with, however, is the rapidly approaching form of the NESTS executive. While he believes he can see the motions of the other man, he seems to have entirely underestimated him; the blow flings forward, crashing straight into his gut with that powerful foot. In the same motion, he is lifted and SLAMMED into the pavement most brutally, dirt and debris from the previous impact intermingling with new chunks of stone as they launch into the air. It hurts; blood flings from Duke's lips, an irritated look intermingling with scarcely contained rage. His hands plant into the ground, scraping across rock.
And in one blurring, angry motion, Duke leaps.
A single foot lashes out in the leap, seeking to slam into Krizalid's jaw with enough force to simply knock him straight into the sky. Duke will follow up with a sudden leap, spinning in the air to slam his polished foot SLAMMING into Krizalid's sternum to launch him straight into the ground, in a maneuver vaguely reminiscent of one of a certain one-eyed arms dealer. "HRAARGH!!"
COMBATSYS: Krizalid interrupts Swivel Gun from Duke with Rising Darkmoon.
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Duke 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\==-----\1 Krizalid
COMBATSYS: Krizalid has reached second wind!
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Duke 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\==-----\1 Krizalid
The Executive is in fine form abruptly, the tables turning rather rapidly in his favor as he brings the fight square into Duke's body. Up high he goes, and down he slams -- and even as the Enforcer gets back to his feet, leaping through in an attack that threatens to cave his chest in after knocking his jaw out of place, the Irishman has no intention of allowing that fate to come to pass. "Not so fast!" he calls, even as that fist comes into contact with his jaw.
Gathering his innate ability to harness the very winds, or at least a facsimile of them, he launches into a violent strike. Catching Duke, he seeks to drive the opponent into the air with one thunderous uppercut after the next, three in total, all aimed with the simple intent of driving whatever breath the brute may have left right out of his body! The strikes pummel through, each swinging arm accompanied with a sickle of slashing chi!
Oh yeah, short pose!
Oh yeah and he hits second wind.
Yeah.
OARSUM
"GRAAAA--"
"Not so--
"--AAAAAAAAA--"
"--fast!"
"--AAAAAAAUGH!!"
Slam, crash, ouch. Duke is hit over and over again by what is assuredly very unpleasant and painful wind chi. That uppercut knocks him upward in the midst of his kick, followed by another -- and yet /another/, sending Duke flying further and further upwards with an expulsion of blood from his mouth and a sickeningly wet -hurk-!
Soaring upwards, Duke can't really control his body in time before he lands, with a deafening -crash-, into the ground. Groggily, he gets back up to his feet. He stares at Krizalid. A chunk of debris flies through the air, descending towards the ground. Duke holds out his hand. And then?
Duke catches the rock and throws it back.
BOOYEAH.
COMBATSYS: Duke can no longer fight.
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Krizalid 1/-----==/=======|
COMBATSYS: Krizalid reflects Thrown Object from Duke with Typhon's Rage - Reflect.
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Krizalid 1/-----==/=======|
Rock? Can you smell what the reflect is cookin'? Cause with a gust of wind, the rock simply flies back at Duke, perhaps to ensure he falls over!
http://mckenny.osd.wednet.edu/oldsite/garden/students/Anna/Images/flyingrock.JPG
Krizalid sighs, a touch fatigued, and brushes off his suit. Spreading his arms, he bursts into flames again -- and as they fade, he's... wearing his opera suit again?! "Well that was a relaxing intermission, my friend... but I have an erotic adventure to watch. I hear they use the word 'fanny' in the fourth act!
"Scandalous!"
COMBATSYS: Krizalid has ended the fight here.
Log created on 22:18:08 07/06/2007 by Duke, and last modified on 01:18:27 07/09/2007.