Description: The first Junior League title defense by Kenji Ashima -- or is that Ashima Kenji?! Will he succeed in defending against the Naughty-mouthed Nautical Nasty, Preston Alistair Wellington the II?! Read to find out! (pro-tip: he doesn't) With special Chaos Agent, Dick Mobey! (Winner: Preston)
Opera. Seriously, whose idea was that? /Opera/. Richard Mobey can't understand opera. It's confusing and the plots make no sense. Occasionally the music is okay. But really, /opera?/
And that is why he has made sure that it is the backdrop with the Viking galley that is out on the stage. Because at least it has a /boat/. He is, at present, seated in an old wooden chair that he has, apparently, brought for the occasion, his harpoon leaning against his side.
But it's the OPERA! A place of grand performance, of cheer and epic story told through song. It isn't as though Kenji's a fan of it, but he isn't going to mock something that he's yet to really sit down and experience. -- Well, okay, maybe mock it just a little. Either way, the current title holder of the Junior League has been backstage and seated in a steel folding chair, the belt slung over the back of his neck like it were a towel and head tipped forward. Clutched in his hands is a frosty bottle of water, thick with condensation that drips from the plastic and lands on the floor with quiet *tip* *tip* *tip* noises.
He shouldn't feel too nervous, but he clearly is. He shouldn't be so antsy or worried, but he is. Maybe it was the way the Burning Challenge with Hayato had ended, and maybe he hadn't recovered from his prior fight with the pig-tailed Hotaru of Seijyun Girl's Academy. No matter what the cause, no matter what rolls through the back of his mind, he has to get up and fight.
Rising from his chair and taking one last large drink from the bottle of water, Kenji marches out from backstage with little in the way of fluster and pomp-- and not wearing a costume, either. No, clad in his favorite black t-shirt with the diagonal crimson design, worn jeans with a wallet chain hanging out from below the end of his untucked t-shirt, and thick black sneakers, the Student Council Secretary of Gedo High looks even more lanky than ever before. Rubbing his wrists and flexing his hands in and out of fists as he takes the stage, the Osakan brawler starts breathing a slow, deep pace. No worries... no regrets. This was going to be like any other fight!
Just, if he loses, Tenma is probably going to kill him.
On the other hand, guess who's already on the stage and waiting? Clad in his typical attire, that being a pair of pants that are a touch too tight and not much else, Preston Alistair Wellington the II positively gleams in the spotlight. With the galley behind him, and the fact he's not wearing any shoes, he'd almost look perfect for the part of the buxom buccaneer, if not for the fact that he's positively ripped with muscle instead of managing with mammary.
Alliteration aside, the youth simply stands there, waiting for the beginning of the brawl -- the supposed title bout fight for the title he cares little for -- with his oar slung across his massive shoulders.
It's those hazel eyes that squint at the opposition though, watching as Kenji swallows his water and gets ready. Every move is scrutinized, the massive mound of muscle simply waiting for the signal before he starts pummelling the ever-living crap out of his opponent.
"Hurry the fuck up," Preston declares in all his typical vulgarity, his mouth twisting into the smirk that's practically the trademark for Pacific Resistance. A glance is given towards the supposed Chaos Agent for the brawl, Mobey. That squint somehow turns considering, wondering about that Dick as only he can. Uh. That was a lot less homosexual before it was written. Let's not even start on how he's eyeing Mobey's harpoon.
Lifting the oar clear of his shoulders, he glances about the stage. "I'm not gettin' any fuckin' younger here." Without a doubt, he is ready and waiting.
COMBATSYS: Preston has started a fight here.
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Preston 0/-------/-------|
Mobey grunts to himself as the two arrive, his wooden leg tapping against the stage. He glances between Preston and Kenji and stands, waiting for the two to start. With his eyepatch and wooden leg, even with more than just pants on, he is at least as much looking the sailor as Preston. Mind you, this is because he is, in fact, an old sailor.
One would think this would leave him biased towards Preston - and one would be right, to a small extent, but he also works for Krauser...and that means wanting a /good/ fight.
COMBATSYS: Kenji has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Preston 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Kenji
COMBATSYS: Mobey has joined the fight here.
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Preston 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 0/-------/-------|
An old man with a harpoon and a wooden leg...? Well, whatever... there've been weirder things to come out of SNF in the last few weeks-- years. Whatever! Either way, there's only a small smile returned to Preston as he fires off the usual f-bomb and gets into a state of mind that fills the world with heightened blood pressures. He lifts a finger as he removes his title from around his neck and casts it off to the side, "You shouldn't rush too much into a fight like this! You may pull a muscle."
Feeling a little bit more like his old self, the Gedo student's hands tuck into his pockets as he takes what seems to be his position in this battle, watching Preston watching the old man with his watchful eyes. Attempting to analyze the pseudo-competition, as it were? Well, good! Knowing what's coming is a good thing, and knowing is half the battle! The other half is usually guts and sheer dumb luck.
Pulling his hands out of his pockets as his leg kicks forward and then falls back to the ground, the Osakan seems to be far too relaxed for his own good, but Preston's seen that before-- the massive free-for-all in the courtyard at Kenji's school and likely in other televised events. Looking back at the first title match and now, a passive part in the back of the young man's mind remarks, 'At least I didn't have to dress in hides and furs this time?'
"Well, here I go. Good luck!"
And hurrying in as quick as can be, Kenji plants his left leg and whips his body around hard, aiming to crack a foot across Preston's jaw-- although in this case, it may end up being more of a sharp toe kick to the ribs. The speed is definately there, and there's enough momentum to it to carry him back around to face the oarsman!
COMBATSYS: Preston blocks Kenji's Roundhouse Reel.
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Preston 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 0/-------/-------|
Good luck? Preston simply smirks at the sentiment, although prior to that he's busy eyeing not only Mobey's harpoon, but also the peg leg. Well, there's no doubt about it; combine the viking backdrop and the gimp, and it's another nautical theme. Finding that he's now grinding his teeth, the Brit simply watches as Kenji makes good on his charge.
The kick that goes for his jaw catches the flat of the oar, the blade kept up in a defensive position to cushion the impact. As the opposing youth's momentum is caught and nullified, for a brief moment Kenji simply floats there, foot out and against the oar... and then the Brit retaliates in his usual fashion; hard, and violent. "You're gonna need more than just luck," he hollers as he forces the Asian back into the air momentarily.
It's then that he shifts his grip on the oar, letting it slide back before his clenched fist resides about the shaft, near the blade; "You should remember how this feels, punk!" he goes on to roar.
Thrusting forward, he seeks to bury the blunt of the blade deep into Kenji's stomach -- and then hurl him clear across the stage! "All aboard!"
The old whaler simply watches the fight for now, standing off to the side, his one eye squinting and his glance always moving between the two fighters. He grunts softly to himself as the fight begins...and then begins to glow faintly.
The truly perceptive might notice faint whalesong and an image of a whale swimming in the glow - but then, the other two here are kind of busy.
COMBATSYS: Mobey gathers his will.
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Preston 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Kenji blocks Preston's Medium Throw.
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Preston 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 0/-------/---====|
A brief "tch!" catches in Kenji's throat as his leg is caught by the oar rather than the tall Brit's body. And of course, Preston's retaliation is swift, brutal, and would probably chop a grown man in half, what with the way he attacks someone with an oar like that. But even then, Kenji's memory is better than people seem to think, as his leg drops and his hands thrust out to clap down hard on the flat of the oar and slow it down, softening the blow to his gut.
Something briefly crosses his mind, but Kenji files the question away for later-- now just beyond the reach he would prefer, and with the rival Pacific student keeping him at a range that's not conductive to punching. Pushing the oar to the side, the Gedo student reaches out to grab at one of Preston's offending arms, his aim to use it as a tether to pull hard-- and then kick at the tall man's leg, looking to drag him right off his feet and give him a quick spill to the ground. "You have to do better than that!"
COMBATSYS: Preston endures Kenji's Quick Throw.
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Preston 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 0/-------/---====|
Now the problem with trying to knock Preston down is, of course, the fact that he's notoriously difficult to actually take off his feet. While his attempt to throw the other youth may have failed, that doesn't mean he's going to be a rag doll at Kenji's disposal.
So while the Chaos Agent charges his laser, Kenji grabs that massive arm and kicks him in the leg... but the brutish Brit simply takes it all in stride, and rather than collapse down to the floor, attempts to simply make the Asian disappear into the sudden smash of his forearm! "I'll show you better, you little punk. Chew on this!"
'This,' one might ask? Why, Preston's armpit hair, naturally. And he's already working up a delightful odour. The strike itself though is simply a massive clothesline from the depths of hell!
Mobey watches the fight carefully...hm. Kenji's doing well, but Preston is /allowing/ him to. And in doing that - in accepting pain now to deliver pain after, he reminds Mobey of himself. Himself and his whale friends. Enemies. /Whales/. But enough reminiscing.
"Insufficient wit!" Mobey has to make up /some/ offense committed by Kenji to give him reason to do what he is about to do. But because it is a /minor/ infraction, he only strikes out lightly, his harpoon's haft moving towards the boy to smack him in the head.
COMBATSYS: Kenji blocks Preston's Running Rigging.
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Preston 0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Mobey successfully hits Kenji with Weapon Jab.
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Preston 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 0/-------/---====|
Ah, the opera. The knowledge of a recently-constructed house of such a majestic art would have been enough in and of itself to attract the attention of the German nobleman, the attendance of a particular Chaos Agent would be one of the motivating factors in bringing Wolfgang Krauser out of his castle and into the United States. While the idea of going into the slumlike Metro City held no particular attraction to the purple-haired fighter, he had some catching up to do regarding keeping tabs on the few fighters amongst his slight ranks.
The limosuine looked slightly out of place, pulling up on a night when a performance was not taking place, but it would park directly in front of the opera house and remain unmoving. The hazard lights start to flicker, and the driver steps out before walking to the back. The door on the sidewalk-side opens, and the Lord of Strolheim, complete in red cape and golden armor, steps out. The driver remains behind while Krauser walks into the opera house, and no attempts are made to hinder him as he walks up the stairs to one of the VIP booths and sits himself down to observe.
Like any smart, good-natured young man, Kenji's got a decision to make: Does he duck away from the clothesline and take Preston out with a well-placed spinning kick or does he take the arm to the face and find himself hurting a whole lot in the morning while he cries like a baby?
Option #3, thanks.
Bringing his forearms up to soak the crushing blow and actually being taken off his feet from the power behind Preston's swing, Kenji lands and shifts his weight and feet, assuming a ready stance-- and then hears the whistling noise of the air, cut by the narrow length of what seems to be a -- a HARPOON!?! Smacked soundly upside the back of the head, Kenji staggers forward a few steps and grabs the back of his head. "OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWwwwwwwwwwwwWWwwWWwWWwWWwWWWwwW-WUH." Turning hard on his heel and clutching his head, he glares at Mobey. "What?! Why?! I didn't know humor was going to be graded here!"
Though it seems as though he may've decided the old man is more important than his bald-headed adversary, Kenji suddenly turns hard on Preston, his body shifting low as he half-slides on the soles of his sneakers. Swinging up his hand and jumping into the air to get even level with the British Behemoth, Kenji reaches to snag Preston by the neck in a familiar (maybe?) manuver. "HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-!!"
Extremely -bright- light blue energy bursts from his hand, seeking to surge into the Pacific student and send him flying high into the air-- and where he would land, nobody knows!
COMBATSYS: Preston fails to interrupt Sky High Rocket from Kenji with Queen's Regulations.
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Preston 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 0/-------/---====|
While the intervention from Mobey may be appreciated -- hell, Preston won't complain right now, however 'dishonorable' it may seem. The Chaos Agent is there for a reason, and while his attempt to simply clobber Kenji into the stage is blocked, it's simply the beginning of a series of unfortunate events for the Brit.
Rolling his eyes as the Asian complains to the Harpoonist, Preston bides his time and waits -- and as Kenji lunges for him, he attempts to simply slam the kid right out of the air.
Sadly for him, he's a touch too slow -- and instead finds his neck caught, the blast volleying him off of his feet temporarily. But now as high as expected, given his bulk; the lands several feet back, on his feet, sliding backwards, the oar held in front of him defensively as he awaits the next strike. "Stupid fuckin' punk..." he growls under his breath, as vulgar as ever.
Mobey steps back. He doesn't mind profanity - but then he turns a bit and catches a glimpse of golden armor. HIS LORDSHIP! The big man frowns. You should be /respectful/ around your betters. And...ah, yes. It fits his ruling before.
"Fighters are expected to exhibit /style/, young men! You should know that!" He shakes his head at Preston. "And you....well, you obviously weren't listening. Vary your taunts, lad! Insufficient style!" His harpoon comes up to smack Preston now, still with the haft.
Taking a step back as Preston sails into the air with a trail of light blue light following the Brit's neck, Kenji shifts his weight a bit and hooks his thumbs into the pockets of his jeans. Looking genuinely dejected for a moment's time, the Gedo student's head lowers and he sighs. "Why does everyone call me that...?"
But then the old man turns his attentions to Preston, swinging the haft of the harpoon at -him- now. His jaw goes slack for a moment as he thinks on how well this could work out-- and no matter how he tries to slice it, it just seems to end badly. Lifting his hand from his pocket and eyebrows raised, Kenji's about to raise his voice, but ... well. Part of the student council secretary just wants to see how this is going to turn out-- and what's he going to do? Catch his breath in the meantime.
COMBATSYS: Kenji gains composure.
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Preston 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Mobey successfully hits Preston with Weapon Jab.
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Preston 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 0/-------/---====|
Tunk. The sound of a harpoon's haft hitting a very sturdy gentleman. The Brit simply squints at Mobey after the strike proves true, hitting his impressive bare pectorals. "I'll take that under fuckin' advisement," he replies with a roll of his eyes, before he starts spinning the shaft of his oar between his hands.
The whoosh of wood cutting air fills the opera house, and through the twirling wood he glares at Kenji. Taking a break, is he? Why is he not surprised. "So let me get this straight, kid. You're here on the big stage, you've got the spotlight shinin' down on you, highlightin' every single little insecurity you've got goin' in your five-foot-nothin' frame, you're for once not dressed like the biggest fuckin' moron this side of the city, and you're optin' ta take a fuckin' break in the middle of your little title defense?"
Ah yes, one of Preston's delightful rants. Despite his run-on sentence, he persists; "Don't you remember the way I fuckin' clubbed the shit out of both you and ya buddy on ya own school grounds? Show some pride, kid. You're gonna win precisely jack and shit at this rate."
COMBATSYS: Preston gains composure.
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Preston 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 0/-------/---====|
Mobey looks between the two kids. Ugh! Standing back. /Cowardice/. He shakes his head, looking up at Krauser's box, and taps his harpoon on the stage. "Get fighting! This isn't a debate, it's a championship match!"
COMBATSYS: Mobey gathers his will.
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Preston 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 1/-------/=======|
From his perch in the VIP section, Krauser continues to take little mental notes on different things that're going on during the fight. Mobey's having a good showing for a Chaos Agent; both fighters have been having problems dodging the Shipmaster's weapon of choice. He gives the sailor a nod when noticed, along with a brief chuckle before looking to Kenji, then Preston.. and the the oar-wielder starts getting talky. The chuckle fades, and a brief frown pulls at his lips. Did.. did he just criticize Kenji for resting.. then rest? "Disrespectful. Distasteful." Massive arms fold across the golden breastplate of his armor, then he lowers himself back into one of the few seats that's housed within the VIP box. Then Mobey voices his displeasure, and Krauser cannot help but chuckle again. "The tall one is too noisy. He talks more than Rugal."
In all consideration, the Brit had done nothing but yell, get angry, and berate him from minute one. It should be irritating to the point of infuriating, but someone like Kenji? Well, the goof resumes his stance with his thumbs hooked into his pockets and only grins. "You should take your chances to rest now and then or else you risk overexerting yourself! You don't want to pull a muscle at a bad moment, right?"
Fanning out the fingers of his right hand and then slowly balling it into a fist-- at least half a dozen knuckles, joints, and bones popping and snapping as he does so-- Kenji shifts his body to present more of a profile to Preston and points. "Besides, as I remember it? The cute girl with the red hair was the one that wanted to fight with me. If you want me to show pride, you should show trust in your friends and let them fight for themselves!"
But that's enough catching his breath-- he's speaking at length at a time like this, even! The expression on his face looks more like he's having the time of his life rather than a grim and serious battle, the vigor of his days in Osaka returning to him-- at least in part. Hopping into the air, the brawler's fist sweeps around for a backhanded smack to the jaw. "And stop calling me a punk!"
COMBATSYS: Preston endures Kenji's Quick Punch.
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Preston 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 1/-------/=======|
Unaware of the man up in the VIP section, and likely not caring, Preston simply bides his time. The oar continues to twirl in front of him like a staff, and while he may admonish Kenji for his tactic, with the door open to it he's more than happy to do the same. The rest ends as the opposing youth sprints into action though -- and the Brit is more than happy to accept what comes.
Drawing Kenji in, he fails to respond to the response -- he simply lets that fist hit him right across the face, the backhanded blow doing little but tilt his head to the side... and draw a rather broad smirk onto his features.
"I'll stop callin' you a punk when you stop hittin' like a girl," the Oarsman replies, and does the sane thing after that.
He lunges with a fist, to catch Kenji by the scruff and return the aerial feat from earlier. Should Kenji be unfortunate enough to be hoisted up high, he can expect a rather wet blast of chi to slam him right in the face, and send him across the stage!
"Better!" Mobey twirls his harpoon...and considers. He was predisposed towards Preston at the start of the match...but for all that Richard Mobey is a gruff old man, he has the requisite Good Heart - and that means he has something of a soft spot for spunky kids, well hidden. Kenji is now the one whom the balance points towards.
And that means he should offer a bit of help. "Creativity, lad! I said /creativity/!"
And the harpoon swings out at Preston again - harder, this time.
COMBATSYS: Kenji auto-guards Preston's Cape Horn Fever!
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Preston 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 1/-------/=======|
The look on Preston's face-- that grin-- it leaves a bad taste in Kenji's mouth and burns a vision of a horrifying oar-based death into the back of his mind. The shorter Japanese boy suddenly finds himself in the grasp of the massive Pacific student, his hands slapping around the oarsman's own to keep himself from getting choked or dangling-- or hell, even just falling right out of his t-shirt. But as Preston's attack should strike home-- the blast of chi and all-- Kenji's eyes narrow and his jovial expression becomes suddenly harsh. He goes for the grip-breaking smack against Preston's hand, and--
"HURRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH--"
His fist explodes into the bright energy and becomes completely consumed in it's light, arcing around to literally punch the water-based chi as hard as he possibly can-- and instead of a concentrated blast that could deal him a great deal of harm, the water becomes more of a light rain that engulfs a small area of the stage-- the brawler, the rower, and the captain all the same.
Stepping back in, Kenji's hand balls into a fist and -rails- at Preston, seeking to smack the tall teenager right in the stomach as hard as he can manage. "UURRAGH!!"
COMBATSYS: Preston dodges Mobey's Medium Strike.
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Preston 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 1/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Preston blocks Kenji's Missile Fist.
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Preston 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 1/-------/=======|
With the shifting balance of the Chaos Agent again turning against him, it turns time for Preston to use some of his oddly timed luck. Catching Kenji, and hoisting him to his feet, he hears the violation called by Mobey.
So as the harpoon swings for him, he simply sidesteps -- and it gives the captive Asian the time he needs to rebel against his would-be oppressor. The blazing fist comes down, dissolving the water-based chi and coming right for the Brit -- who lifts his own arm, taking the blow there against a meaty forearm. "Oh, you're a feisty one, aren't ya, kid?" he says, eyeing the freed Kenji for a moment.
The oar is lifted, seemingly to rest against his shoulders again. But then consideration turns to action, as he steps through with a massive swing, intent on clearing Kenji off the stage and into the nosebleed section!
Mobey frowns. You don't /dodge/ a properly executed reprimand...but on the other hand, the boy did as he was told. The big whaler steps back, glowing faintly. "Good. Keep that up now." He isn't sure what he'll see next, but he wants to be ready if he has to massively reprimand someone.
COMBATSYS: Mobey gathers his will.
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Preston 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 1/---====/=======|
COMBATSYS: Kenji blocks Preston's Medium Throw.
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Preston 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 1/---====/=======|
His fist impacts with Preston's forearm, a powerful slam of bones and muscle against ... bones ... and muscle. Kenji's strength is still there all the way-- all that same jarring force, set into one small fist-sized surface area. Despite his yelling and screaming, the Gedo student is back to his former self, the barest of grins-- almost, dare say, a smile-- on his face as his fist pulls away from Preston's arm and he-- gets it swung at him with enough force to pick him up from the ground and fling him into the crowd. The current Champion's hand reaches out to grab the oar at what seems to ultimately be the last moment, limiting the amount of distance he can really get... but still landing below the stage proper, crashing into an aisle between rows of packed seats.
Kenji sits up and shakes his head, getting the blur and cobwebs out. "Whew, that was close."
Standing back up, the Osakan brawler's spry form springs up to the edge of the stage and gets a good grip, vaulting himself up with a sideways swing of his legs and landing back up on the stage. Running at Preston again, the Guardian King member's left hand leads off with a pair of quick jabs-- then a swift and angry kick aimed to smack the oarsman in the side. "Hah!!"
COMBATSYS: Preston blocks Kenji's Heavy Kick.
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Preston 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 1/---====/=======|
However Preston manages to dodge strikes, he doesn't bother with it for the next assault. After knocking Kenji off the stage and waiting for reprisal, the Brit grits his teeth. This is turning into a battle of the turtles, and he's really itching to inflict some heavy, heavy damage on the plucky Asian.
So when the brawler vaults back onto the stage and leads with a set of jabs and a lunging kick -- all of which is met by the dukes of the Oarsman, meeting fist with fist, even when it's clenched about the shaft of that massive oar.
The kick to his side meets his elbow, and then the Brit simply smirks; "You feelin' hungry?"
All but announcing his intent, he thrusts the blade of the oar for Kenji's face, aiming to cram it right down his throat!
Mobey continues watching. Hm...bad retorts, but...well, Kenji has pluck...but Preston has determination. A hard call here, now that they've stopped being /wimps/ with the standing back and doing nothing and the uncreativity and the /debating/.
The old whaler decides that he, at the moment, prefers Preston's aggressiveness - and supports it. "Come on - let's see some flashy stuff, I want to see what you can do! What about you, lad?" And the harpoon moves toward's Kenji, trying to tap him lightly on the back.
Lightly for Mobey, anyway.
COMBATSYS: Preston successfully hits Kenji with Medium Strike.
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Preston 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 1/---====/=======|
COMBATSYS: Mobey successfully hits Kenji with Weapon Jab.
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Preston 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Kenji
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Mobey 1/---====/=======|
What'd the oar say to the face?!
*SMACK*
Kenji's head whips backward with the fierce strike to the chops, his lip splitting and blood whipping away from his mouth as he staggers. The jab of Mobey's harpoon doesn't add much in the way of helping him stay up and along on his feet, his body shifting hard to the side. Kenji's torso pitches forward and his hands hold his face as blood drips from his nose and his split lip. Spitting blood on the stage and dragging his hand across his face, the brawler wipes his hand on his shirt and glares hard at both Preston and the old man.
"All right... that's it."
His hand sweeps down to nearly punch the ground, his knuckles turned down and his voice welling up in the throat. "Ghhh-- ghhh-- H-HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH-- URRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"
The incredible light blue energy forms at the young man's knuckles, flaring upward in waves. His arm pulls back up slowly, the light engulfing his arm from hand to shoulder and wisping away into the air...
"COME ON!!"
COMBATSYS: Kenji gathers his will.
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Preston 0/-------/-======|=======\====---\1 Kenji
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Mobey 1/---====/=======|
It would seem that the two nautical types work in sync for that moment, both bringing violence against Kenji as only people wielding really big blunt objects can. Smirking after hitting the Asian square in the mouth, it seems that the Brit is amused at the dilemma that's facing his opponent.
Of course, then that shouting begins; "Y'see, that's the fuckin' problem with you, all this goddamn shoutin'. Didn't hittin' you in the face once give you the idea to shut the fuck up already?"
They're saved a full rant as Preston instead closes the gap, hardly perturbed by the energy that flares to life around Kenji. If anything, that smirk deepens, the violence threatened with each step magnifying as he nears. At five paces, he suddenly slams the butt of the oar down into the stage -- and pole vaults himself into the air with a huge exertion of muscle, as only he can manage!
Gaining height, he pushes off at the peak, whipping that oar around in a tight circle as his spins. What eventuates rather swiftly is a massive overhead, the blade kept flat as it aims to simply demolish Kenji from the hair down, if not whack-a-mole him right through the stage!
Mobey takes a step back, glowing faintly and radiating soft whalesong as he goes back to watching. Kenji is standing back - but Mobey can recognize a man preparing. He won't bother that. Just as long as a new debate doesn't start...
COMBATSYS: Mobey gathers his will.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Preston 0/-------/-======|=======\====---\1 Kenji
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Mobey 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
COMBATSYS: Kenji blocks Preston's Fierce Strike.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Preston 0/-------/-======|=======\=======\1 Kenji
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Mobey 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
Preston sails into the air in a display of athletics that Kenji's taken aback from-- a feat that he could only hope to accomplish, as he sails up into the air starts coming back down to earth. The only way to defend from this position is something of an unorthodox one-- in short, he -punches- the oar. His left fist swings up to catch the great paddle by the edge against his knuckles and halt it dead-- even as he could swear he heard a finger crack-- and keep the damage down. Kenji's teeth bare and his expression becomes suddenly fierce, and ... he'll still persevere!!
Before Preston can fully land, Kenji's right leg stretches back to set his pose and his right fist cocks back. Muscles tense in his left leg, and his body snaps ahead like a rubber band clipping from someone's fingers. His fist screams ahead and aims to hit Preston in the gut-- hard enough to stop him from dropping and send him back into the air.
In fact, if this was a shot to the ribs, probably hard enough to crack bones. "SHUT UP!!"
COMBATSYS: Preston blocks Kenji's Missile Fist Ashima.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Preston 1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Kenji
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Mobey 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
The way Kenji chooses to block attack after attack, with his very fists, screams sheer idiocy to the brutish Brit. The oar screams down into the Asian's fist, and with a titanic scream the petite opponent rears back, slamming the appendage forward again to drive the brute back into the sky!
But fate is not that kind. Preston issues a heavy grunt as he sees that fist screaming for him again, and twists just enough for the blow to collide with little but solid muscle. It's still enough to take some of his breath away, but for a blowhard like him, there's still ample left.
"Make me," he growls as he lands, sliding back a few yards. The time for theatrics comes as he lifts the oar up high overhead, giving it a spin between thick, yet oddly deft, fingers.
With a roar of his own, he slams it down into the stage itself -- and the stage splinters under such force, the oar embedding itself into its brethren!
That smirk appears -- and then he rips the oar forward, sending a wave of force through the stage! Board after board splinters, shattering in a flurry of splinters and wood, the wave making its way for Kenji with the promise of pain!
Mobey frowns. Kenji is earning his respect far more than Preston is. For all that neither is any good at taunting, at least Kenji is going all-out, putting everything he has in. Mobey grips his harpoon, watching the two carefully.
COMBATSYS: Mobey focuses on his next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Preston 1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Kenji
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Mobey 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
COMBATSYS: Preston successfully hits Kenji with Devil Seam.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Preston 1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0 Kenji
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Mobey 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
Still-- still hitting hard, but still not enough! Yet... that was still his hardest strike-- the hardest that he could punch. Kenji's jaw tightens up as Preston lands and stands steady-- and then unleashes another powerful attack. The Osakan starts backpedaling to get clear, but the wood and rain of splinters combined with the rippling force is more than enough to throw the young man off his feet and sprawling almost to the end of the grand opera stage, slamming into some spare stage props which pitch over off out of the view of the public.
Kenji rolls back up to a crouch, sprawling forward to land hard on his hands and knees. Breathing deep and breathing hard, he seems to be taking the time to catch his second wind to keep from flat-out falling over onto his face, his eyes lit with seriousness. Starting to slump, his tongue clicks and his voice is caught in his throat. No-- he can't let it end that quickly! Pushing hard against the ground to stand up and drags the back of his hand across his mouth. "I still got a little more left... come on!"
COMBATSYS: Kenji gains composure.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Preston 1/------=/=======|====---\-------\0 Kenji
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Mobey 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
Mobey frowns. KEnji is spared an attack solely because he did something that interested Mobey seconds before. But he does grumble, looking at Preston, and then back at Kenji, an annoyed look in his eye.
COMBATSYS: Mobey takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Preston 1/------=/=======|====---\-------\0 Kenji
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Mobey 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
Luckily for Preston, the respect of Mobey means about as much to him as the title itself; this is just another fight, another chance to become better as a fighter, for reasons all his own. Panting lightly after unleashing that wave, the Brit finds himself staring at a rather destroyed stage. That just means he's going to have to be careful with his footing.
With the kid sitting back again though, he simply issues a curt shake of his head. "You want it, son? You got it."
Without further adieu, he issues a heavy snort, chest heaving as he runs one foot back through the tattered remains of the stage. Splintered wood is pushed aside as he prepares for the charge -- and then he's off. Like the proverbial bull that he is, he stamps forward, bare feet thudding against the would-be deck of the stage as he closes the gap between himself and his plucky Asian opponent.
The bull bellows as he nears, his massive frame abruptly slamming forward in an attempt to gore Kenji with his equally large head of close-cropped hair! The kid from the Gedo has felt this before, and he knows what follows should be prove unlucky; an uppercut for the heavens, the bull shaking loose his victim with a titanic fist!
COMBATSYS: Preston successfully hits Kenji with Bull of Barney.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /// ]
Preston 0/-------/-------|=======\=------\1 Kenji
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Mobey 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
"Oh crap--"
His hands, bloody left and red-knuckle right open and extend to catch Preston's head-- but there's a deep gasp as the British Behemoth crushes through his scant defenses and slams his head into his gut. Eyes go wide and his body goes relatively limp-- then limp and skyward as the Pacific student's uppercut hurls him into the sky. "Urragh-!!"
And while he's up high in the air, the chain of his wallet rattling as hard as his teeth, the Osakan brawler's arm is once again engulfed in light. "Ghhh-- KYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH--"
As he begins to descend, a blue light shines down on Preston from above-- lancing through him to the floor. It does no damage and seems to be completely for show, but the angle and the point to which it leads becomes quite obvious quite quickly: Kenji's fist. As he descends, his arm reels back farther and farther, seeking to come down on the stage and strike Preston down like a power from on high. The color's back in his face, the light is once again in his eyes-- though he's literally riding his limits, he's going to give it his all for one more...! "HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH--"
COMBATSYS: Kenji can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Preston 0/-------/-------|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Mobey
COMBATSYS: Kenji successfully hits Preston with Rail Gun.
[ \\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Preston 0/-------/---====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Mobey
His fist rips ahead at high speed in this light, quick enough that it seems like his arm disappears in the blur of motion. His fist rockets ahead with an explosive amount of chi contained on his fist-- and slugs the Pacific student right in the head as hard as he can manage. The punch carries the energy, the energy carries a whole lot of pain on it's heels... pain, and what feels like sheer and very well-directed concussive force.
The excess of energy that presses against and around Preston causes the stage itself to upheave more from the damage already sustained and explode into a vertical shower of wood and splinters-- one that will very likely leave a hole in the stage proper and drop the contestants into it.
Kenji is, for one, at the bottom of the hole in the stage, sprawled out on the concrete below and out of the view of the public, laying face-down and looking like he's somewhere between 'half conscious' and 'knocked back to second grade'.
Well. Er. Oops.
The proverbial bull seems to have taken the last bit of life out of his plucky opponent, but it seems that Kenji is not quite finished. He comes back with another scream, flashing all sorts of crazy colors as he unleashes that fist right for the Briton's skull!
Thankfully, it does not cave inwards. Instead, the explosion of energy that screams into him and past him knocks Preston back. Were he wearing boots, he would likely be blown right out of him, but thankfully in this case he chose to combat the Asian barefoot. As it stands though, his feet clear the ground anyway, and he flies, flies, flies!
The only thing that stops him from falling over is the backdrop that he collides with, the viking ship; it crumbles around him, and he enters the backstage area, disappearing for parts unknown!
A double KO? The fight over with both combatants gone?
Not quite. Long moments past, and then the Brit stumbles back on stage, one hand rubbing the red mark on his face. Oar held in one hand, it seems he's the one on his last legs now... but he's standing, and that seems the important part. "And that's why you don't try and teach your betters a lesson," he growls, not wanting to open his mouth too wide at the moment.
Ow. Just a bit.
Mobey is not an idiot. He can see when something is about to, say, destroy everything nearby. As such, the big whaler quietly steps back, to ensure that he is not stuck. He is quite impressed, in this final stage, by both young men.
The whaler briefly grins - very briefly...until Preston speaks.
"I was going to congratulate you, lad. Because you both put up a good fight. But you got delusions o' greatness. Yer no better than him. I don't care what title you got." The harpoon rises, as Mobey hefts it. "I don't care who yer daddy is." It is jerked back. "An' I don't give a flyin'-" Pause. Mobey turns to call up to Krauser's box. "Pardonin' yer Lordship's presence for what I'm about to say, o' course." He turns back to Preston. "I don't give a flyin' fuck on four legs how much money you can throw around. But this sonuvabitch you just beat put up a good fight. An' you will show him /respect/. But you ain't gonna listen to words!"
The big whaler is roaring now, at the top of his lungs - and mighty they are, for they have to be heard over a gale, he /is/ an ex-sailor. "So I'll teach it to ya! You ain't gonna be /any/ better off than this boy - a great deal worse, for you ain't got any respect, lad!" The harpoon is given a single glance - and the glow around Mobey envelops it, too. "Aye, you want /betters/? There's only two here! The one in the crowd, an' the one yer about ta see!"
And with a single movement, the whaler hurls the weapon, the glow vanishing from around him as it shapes itself, expanding from the harpoon in seconds - to become a whale. An old whale, glowing pale white, covered in scars and with tiny harpoons sticking from its hide, swimming aorund the harpoon, now invisible within it. It is not, thankfully, the size of a /real/ sperm whale - it's just Very, Very Big.
"Aye, lad! LEARN RESPECT!"
COMBATSYS: Mobey successfully hits Preston with White Whale.
- Power hit! -
[ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Preston 1/-----==/=======|===----\-------\0 Mobey
And suffice it to say, the weapon itself is hurled at Preston as it manifests into something that is, by far, quite the larger. There the brute of a Brit stands, simply watching as it comes for him. Does he attempt to move? Hell yes he does.
Unfortunately, it's by no means fast enough, not with him having expended so very much of himself in the brawl prior.
The whale passes right on through the Brit, who once again manages to disappear backstage as the Chaos Agent takes liberties that go beyond his duties. There's a mighty clamor backstage, the damage no doubt epic but sadly unseen by the audience.
It's several long, pregnant moments before the son of a Duke returns to the devastated stage, leaning heavily on his oar. And then he delivers something unto Mobey that he is unlikely to ever forget.
He squints. Squint.
Then his mouth opens. "Let me get this fuckin' straight. You just took the time to stop kissin' ya bosses sorry fuckin' ass to what, throw a fuckin' whale at me? You think that thing was better than me too? Ya cheap little fuckin' parlor trick means precisely jack and shit to me, but let me put this in phrases you might actually understand after so many fuckin' years jackin' it to aquariums, you miserable old man.
"Grow a fuckin' leg to replace the one you lost, and get the fuck over it. You just made my fuckin' list."
The grin on his face promises violence in the future, since he's hardly able to do much of anything right now. Barely standing, the Brit nevertheless lifts his oar -- and with it rises what little is left of the stage, as a massive swell of chi explodes from beneath Mobey's feet!
It's no whale, but it's sure one hell of a fountain -- and the Brit leaps with the rise of chi, his last legs exerting themselves...
COMBATSYS: Preston can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Mobey 0/-------/----===|
COMBATSYS: Mobey interrupts Azimuth Circle from Preston with Whale's Wake.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Mobey 0/-------/-======|
Richard Mobey jerks a hand, pulling his harpoon back on the chain it is attached to. As Preston walks back on stage, the old man snorts. So the boy can take a hit. Impressive...but not worth the disrespect he spouts. The old whaler listens impassively. He speaks quietly in response as the chi begins to grow from Preston.
"Boy, you don't even know who you speak about. You'll not say a word against Lord Krauser if you know what's good for you. No, I did that to teach you a lesson you /badly/ require. I don't know who spoiled you, but someone has to set you straight. I've killed whales with my bare hands, /child/, and if you want to hunt me down, you'd best be prepared."
As the chi wells underneath him, Mobey does not move. As it fountains up, he does not move. As it is around him - then, just once, he moves - swinging one arm, allowing the chi to slam at him - so that he can seize control of it, the glow around him growing as he does, converting watery chi to yellow-white light - and though the fountain lifts Mobey, he rides it out, landing with a click as his wooden leg strikes one of the last surviving pieces of stage - a lucky few planks that managed to survive - and swings his arm. The glowing chi that he seized rises - and shapes itself into a whale's long tail...which smashes right down on top of Preston.
Aaaand Preston gets smashed down when he had been intent on driving his oar deep into the whaler's belly, but that's another story entirely. Landing hard, he actually falls right through the ruined stage and into the area beneath it, where props and all kinds of crazy stuff exists, like men trapped in Houdini water escape attempts!
However much that may have hurt, this time the Brit doesn't bother to reappear. Time ticks by. Seconds turn to minutes. Long minutes, at that.
The officials mill about, and men are sent to scour the area. They report pretty quickly that the winner was seen leaving through the back door of the Opera house for parts unknown. One guard explains that he tried to stop him, even pointing out the obvious;
"'You forgot your belt,' I told him! And all he had to say was 'what belt?' and kept right on goin'!"
"Hey, maybe we can mail it to him?"
Suffice it to say, this SNF (junior) Title Fight is over!
Log created on 22:30:08 07/09/2007 by Preston, and last modified on 21:08:46 07/12/2007.