Duke - A Meeting of Minds and Fists

Description: Kurow, returning from his horrific beating delivered to him by one Wolfgang Krauser, comes across the Southsynd lieutenant Duke. What is at first merely a chance meeting evolves into a test of skill and another potential alliance for Hell's Executioner...



Arriving back in Southtown is always a great feeling for Kurow Kirishima, even when nothing else seems like it's working out particularly well -- especially on a day like today. Getting ambushed by Wolfgang Krauser is never good times, and Kurow is presently carrying around a modest number of bandages and other signs of moderate injury for his trouble. Even sleeping through that long plane ride (usually a period that Kurow uses to plan all manner of things) hasn't fully done it for the battered man.

This means that /something/ extra has to be done, something that Kirishima very rarely does. Even if sometimes it seems like a load of poppycock, it's said that going to somewhere with that... pleasant, sanctuary-like feeling makes everything feel a little better a little faster, and Kurow knows just the place. Even if it's broken down, just being in the little shrine in the clearing of Southtown's forest is fairly soothing.

For the longest of time, Southtown's degenerated and 'abandoned' shrine has served host to many things. A large portion of them violent. Like one of those paradoxes that are too straining to explain, the abandoned shrine here within the forests has seen more activity than even some of the local shops at the business district. Yet with all this activity in and out of the ruins, the shrine still serves as a peaceful and serene location for those who wish to gather their thoughts. To rest. For the most part.
Sometimes, however, conflict follows a person like a shadow, clinging to their every movement. And conflict is something that Kurow Krisihima can't quite seem to get rid of -- perhaps not even here, in this far-off dilapidated shrine that once served as a place of worship. Why? The answer is simple: he is not alone.
As the young man begins his approach of the shrine, he may hear noises; faint at first, but upon closer inspection, quite clearly the sound of two people conversing. It originates at the shrine itself, up the cracked and dirt-ridden steps that ascend upwards to the main entrance of the building. And as he comes closer -- Kurow will be able to quite -clearly- see two men walking out and down the steps. One, unassuming, pasty-faced and wearing a simple and cheap business suit. The other... considerably taller, with darker skin, and a long, jagged scar that crawls around the entire length of his neck. Descending the steps, the two only pause mid-way through. Words are exchanged, as thinner, smaller man continues on his way, carrying a simple briefcase along with him. The other waits, looking up towards the sky with a thoughtful glint in his eyes.
Duke has always found ruins like these to be the perfect location in which to -think-, after all.

When Kurow wants to find someone, he often finds himself alone; when he needs solitude to recuperate, of course, he can never buy a break even for a few hours. Typical -- some days are just downright terrible. As the two men exchange words, Kurow watches, trying to listen but not quite close enough to make out what they're talking about. When the cheap-suited man heads on his way, carrying that briefcase, Kurow lets him pass... and as the other looks up at the stars, he starts to make his way up those cracked, dirt-ridden steps.

The youth digs his hands into his pockets as he takes each successive step, knowing from that scar that Duke is some sort of potential threat -- and even associating it with some rumor or another, one which he probably never paid much attention to. It must not have seemed important at the time, and as such, Kurow presently doesn't know -quite- what he may be getting himself into. The scar and the man's general build give him a few hints, but that's it... and a few hints might not be enough to really appreciate the full extent of the problems the brutal man might cause.

There is only a passing glance offered between Kurow and the pasty man as he wanders away, only stopping to give a second, worrisome glance towards the red-and-black clad Duke on the steps above. Slowly, bloodshot and strained eyes pull away from the ascending Kurow and the tall man who stands so near to him, beginning his walk away. Whatever might happen, he doesn't want to be any part of it, whether the Syndicate enforcer doesn't even bother with the young man or decides to crush his throat in -- this man isn't going to deal with any of the potential mess.
So, as the gaunt man begins his hurried shuffle away from the shrine, the slow sound of footsteps begin to catch the notice of the dark-skinned man who stands at the middle of that stairway. Polished shoes scrape against dusty ground as those dark brown eyes swing downward -- focusing straight on Kurow. There's a small pause as he looks at the young man. A brow lifts at that oddly -gray- haircolor for someone so young, but for a time, Duke is silent.
... At least, until Kurow ascends to the step just below the one Duke stands on. There is a slight shifting of the large man's posture, his right hand lifting to touch and drag his fingertips along the length of the scar across his neck in something of a bad habit. "You look like you're in a poor state, eh?" he intones thoughtfully, dark eyes looking away from Kurow and back towards the stars. "Did you get into a fight that you couldn't handle? How unfortunate. It must be..." he trails, attempting to seek the appropriate word, "... frustrating." But that's it; for now, Duke leaves it at that, seeming almost intent to star gaze than focus his attentions upon the young, slightly battered ninja.

Kirishima keeps his hands in his pockets as Duke begins to talk to him, likely hiding something -- no one is that particular about where their hands are without any reason, as Duke no doubt knows. His posture instantly becomes a little bit more guarded, even though Duke's attention isn't on him; he is nothing if not careful (or paranoid, depending on who you talk to) and it reflects in everything he does, even his body language.

"I merely got overconfident," the youth says, the dismissal apparent in his voice. He looks up toward the stars, as if trying to see what Duke sees, figure out if there's truly something worth looking at up there or if the older man merely has some strange fixation on the dark, starry skies that youth or pragmatism leave Kurow sorely lacking in understanding of.

Not finding anything that catches /his/ in that evening sky, he looks back down to the Southsynd enforcer. He's frustrated, but there's no reason to let /Duke/ know that he's off his game -- after all, even showing that much weakness is a potential problem. "What about you? I saw you talking with your associate -- about business, I suppose? Why here?"

Overconfident, he says. Duke allows himself an amused, dry sort of smile at the words. His focus remains on the sky above; whatever he sees in there that Kurow does not, it maintains its grasp on his interest and his gaze. Despite that, he does not go unnoticing of certain things about the young man before him; the sudden shift of posture, the clever hiding of his hands in those pockets. He sees it from the corner of his eye, but says nothing of it. For now. ",,, hmph," he snorts, before his shoulders lift in a slow, languid roll.
"Overconfidence is still a weakness."
There's silence for a few moments after Kurow poses his own question. Duke's hands slide into his pants pockets, a brow lifting in thoughtful consideratoin. "...There's only so many scenic places in Southtown you can conduct business." If you'd rather not be seen. "There aren't many people who come here later in the day." At least, not any -boring- people. "My associate would rather not be caught making deals with the Syndicate, after all." He stops there. Information that is, perhaps, not something he's supposed to share. But Duke does it for a reason, and only when he says these words does his gaze lower. To gauge a reaction. After all, any boy with hair like that and such a cautious demeanor, with injuries like the ones he has... is something more than the 'usual riffraff.'
"I'm sure you understand."

If there's one surefire way to bring Kurow onto the offensive, even in spite of immense personal damage, it's to mention the Syndicate. At one point, he'd considered cooperating with them to potentially usurp control of Shadaloo -- but the more he examined Japan's situation, the more he found that he'd do best to push them out, or at least attempt a change in management. Geese Howard -- some useless foreigner -- controls the biggest city in Japan through that organization. It's a crime in more than one sense of the word. ... at least, in Kurow Kirishima's mind.

"So, you're one of Geese Howard's lapdogs?" Kurow asks, allowing himself a bit of a self-superior smirk. "Why bother? Between the Chrome-Dome Don and the man with the cudgel, let alone Howard himself you can't be getting more than table scraps. Too weak to make your own way?" Kurow doesn't realize the same accusation could have been made of him, and maybe even still could be; he is a little blind to his own choices, and all too acutely aware of those of others. "Pathetic."

And that's all the reaction that Duke needs to see. The response both verbally and physically is enough for him; he knows that clear sort of vehemence that traces in with Kurow's words. It's spiteful. It's unfriendly.
It's incredibly useful to Duke.
Hell's Executioner remains silent for a time during Kurow's belittling rant, considering the man's questions and accusations with little more than a frown. His right hand lifts, rubbing the back of his neck. There is a sickening crack as he works out the joints, a soft 'aaah' escaping his lips before more solid, coherent words slip past.
"You're too quick to make assumptions," Duke observes as he tilts his head to take a good look at Kurow. "But you know a lot, don't you? I'd ask who you were just a lapdog of... but there's so many options to choose from. Or maybe--" Duke turns fully, looking down on the young Japanese ninja. "--Maybe you think of yourself as something more than that. If that's the case..."
There's no real warning for what happens next. Despite Kurow's spiteful words, there is no aggressive action on Duke's part... at least, until a split second after his words trail. In that moment, Duke surges forward with a simple punch aimed right beneath Kurow's ribcage, aiming to jab into his solar plexus swiftly to knock the wind from him. Despite the aggression, it should be obvious; the blow is a -testing- one, not one brought on by rage. So what if Kurow is injured? To have such a superior air about him, surely he can prove it to Duke.
"... let's see just how much more there is to you."

COMBATSYS: Duke has started a fight here.

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Duke             0/-------/-------|


COMBATSYS: Kurow has joined the fight here.

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Duke             0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0            Kurow


COMBATSYS: Duke successfully hits Kurow with Quick Punch.

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Duke             0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0            Kurow


The youth is injured, and that makes everything a /lot/ harder. A surprise punch comes in at Kurow's midsection, and adrenaline has not yet kicked in to compensate for injury -- it catches him squarely in the gut, and sends his injured form staggering down a few steps, remarkably maintaining his balance. He's got that going for him, at least -- a lot of men would've ended up rolling down those steps. Southsynd always puts Kurow in a somewhat violent frame of mind, though; already he can feel some fight growing inside of him.

"If you want to see 'just how much there is to me,'" he spits, "I'll be happy to oblige!" The ninja pulls his hands out of his pockets, suddenly equipped with those fearsome claws that he puts to such brutal use. He looks Duke over, trying to get an instant sense of just where he'll be strong and where he'll be weak... and while his obviously powerfully-built frame tells him /something/, he can't get as solid of a sense of this relative unknown as he could the man he'd fought in Thailand merely a half a day prior.

He makes a split-second assumption, and decides that now would be a very good time to test it; going back up the steps, Kurow rushes /past/ Duke entirely, merely sweeping a hand near the man's gut as he passes. This seems like nothing, at first, but for Duke to ignore it entirely would be to seal his own fate. A small wave of energy in the shape of a claw-slash materializes just behind that swipe, tearing at Duke in a remarkably fierce opening move for a man as bandaged as Kurow.

COMBATSYS: Duke dodges Kurow's Kuukan Saki.

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Duke             0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0            Kurow


Assumptions and theories are something that the calculating brawler Kurow finds himself facing thinks little on. He knows what his plan is here; simply to test Kurow and be done with it. He harbors no malice or intent to kill, which might be the oddest thing of this entire situation. As if he is doing exactly as he said he was going to do -- test just how strong Kurow really is. If he ends up proving his worth, well --
--then Duke will find himself another potential partner in crime.
Still; while he might not be extensively planning in this situation, he is nonetheless swift on his feet and quick to respond to the actions of the young ninja. As Kurow rushes past him, dark brown eyes narrow thoughtfully. What should be a punch, or a swipe of the man's hand across his stomach, turns instead to something entirely different. Duke doesn't wait to respond or see what it is; as Kurow rushes past, he is already twisting, moving off to the side to avoid the swipe -entirely- -- and watching in an interested manner as it amounts to a sudden surge of chi. One that would have no doubt been painful... if it had gone through successfully. "... hm."
Almost instantly after his sharp twist of his heel, Duke pushes off his feet. His intention is simple: to launch upwards and slam his right knee into Kurow's chest, following it up with a swift hook punch to SLAM into the side of his face. "GRAAAARGHH!" Simple... but undeniably brutal.

COMBATSYS: Kurow dodges Duke's Light Kick.

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Duke             0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0            Kurow


The adrenaline is definitely starting to kick in and make things feel less sore and sluggish, if Kurow's movements are any indication -- he's almost a blur as he whips his body around on the steps, pulling himself out of the way of Duke's knee and letting that punch hit nothing but empty air. Even if he's not very fast on the offensive in his present state, he's got raw reflexes to spare. Some men train for years and don't get near this fast.

The quick strikes, likewise, tell Kurow what he needs to know -- his opponent is simple, brutal, straightforward. Again, a lot like Wolfgang -- he's having the strangest luck today. And he so adeptly avoided that slash of energy... perhaps it's time to try what seemed to work on Krauser. It's not particularly cruel or malicious -- merely swift, clinical. Even though his technique is far more complex than Duke's tried-and-true strikes, there's a common brutality between them -- one that becomes obvious as Kurow aims a series of quick kicks for the man's shoulders and then one for his legs, trying not to /hurt/ him with them but rather to send him tumbling down the stairs.

COMBATSYS: Duke dodges Kurow's Strong Throw.

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Duke             0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0            Kurow


Again... it seems that luck or fate, or simply skill, is a strange and cruel mistress. As soon as Kurow maneuvers out of his relatively -fast- technique's range, Duke knows all that he really needs to know. The boy is fast, despite his injuries, and he at least knows how to manage chi. This alone says he's something more than most thugs. The way he moves is swift, if not hampered by his injuries -- enough so that, as Kurow lashes out to kick out at the shoulders of the Southsynd lieutenant, the man... simply isn't there.
Rushing -backwards- in a slur of motion, Duke descends down further -- of his own volition. Evading that series of painful blows, he follows up with something exceedingly simple: lifting up his leg, Hell's Executioner SLAMS his foot down in a swift and powerful blow. Not against Kurow, but the steps themselves. Instantly, the stone rumbles, dirt shaking off the steps as they begin to -cave in- from the sheer physical force of the attack, seeking to disrupt Kurow's footing before, not a second later, a sudden -wave- of fire blazes out from Duke's foot in a circle, intent on crashing into the young man and blasting him backwards. "HRAAARGH!!"

COMBATSYS: Kurow dodges Duke's Seismic Impact.

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Duke             0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0            Kurow


Caving the steps in is actually something of an advantage for Kurow Kirishima -- he uses the sudden slip to gain a little momentum before leaping up and /over/ Duke, landing just behind him and letting the wave of fire hit the spot where, had he not been so quick on his feet, he would've been. The already ruined shrine gets just a few more ruined pieces, and Kurow Kirishima is none the worse for wear for it. For someone so wounded, he's really starting to get into this battle.

"You're strong," he says, bringing that smirk back to his face, "but you overcommit a little. You remind me a lot of an old associate of mine..." Not a /willing/ one, but then, Kirishima is known for twisting the truth a little every now and again. Just a little. "Tell me -- are you another disciple of the art of Taikyokuken?" he asks -- it'd certainly make the similarities between Duke and a certain younger man make a little more sense.

The best way to deal with such a fighter, of course, is to just accept the fact that the only way to beat brutality is with more brutality, and one of the larger chunks of stone displaced by Duke's assault becomes the vector for this particular change in tactics. Hefting the large rock, Kurow simply hurls it at Duke -- its arc is wide and its speed spectacularly lacking, but that doesn't change that it's a big, heavy rock.

COMBATSYS: Duke dodges Kurow's Large Thrown Object.

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Duke             0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0            Kurow


Amusement tinges Duke's gaze as he watches Kurow so deftly outmaneuver his blaze of fiery chi; airborne swipes are always the -best- way to get out of such an attack. Still; Duke hasn't seen someone manage something like that in -quite- some time. That impact -- that technique -- isn't something that is so easily dealt with. The fact that Kurow manages it is an impressive feat indeed.
However, any amazement Duke might have never enters his expression. Instead, as Kurow lands -- he spins to greet the ninja head-on, a wry smirk tugging across his lips. "I overcommit? Then... tell me, who did you get so beaten by again?" But Kurow lashes out with a sudden motion, sending a chunk of those ruins to bean the brutal enforcer right in the head. Instead of dealing with it in a trademark brutal fashion, however, Duke's response is simple; he slips UNDER it, his large body ducking down as he rushes straight towards Kurow.
"Taikyokuken?" Hell's Executioner questions as he runs straight by Kirishima. His right hand lashes out, seeking to grasp Kurow securely by the arm. If he does... Duke simply makes a sudden and swift rotation, -twisting- around and yanking Kurow into the air before seeking to SLAM him harshly into the indented stone below, intent on dragging him in a semi-circle before simply releasing him to skid across the ground. "HMPH! No... my style is my own."

COMBATSYS: Duke successfully hits Kurow with Quick Throw.

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Duke             0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0            Kurow


"Wolfgang Krauser," Kurow forces out, taking a quick step back -- but not finding it enough, as he's grabbed, slammed, and whirled. He has yet to even strike Duke, who evidently is far faster than his rather firm-seeming build would let on. "... as for your fighting style... I'm surprised -- you move like one of the Kazamas," he adds, as he forces himself back to his feet. Even though he has yet to land a single blow on Duke, he's secure in the fact that he can at least put the hurt on the man faster than the man can do so to him once he catches him.

How to use the steps more to his advantage, he asks himself, as he takes a few quick sidesteps, positioning himself higher up, closer to the shrine -- he doesn't have a lot of room to maneuver, so his usual tactics are all but destroyed. All he's got is wild chance... but as he knows from his duel with the Imawano scion, sometimes taking a risk is what's necessary. The youth moves farther up the steps, trying to get into position, seeming almost as if he's retreating. Perhaps he really is that weak, and just has good instincts...

... or perhaps he's gearing up for the most forceful strike he can, abruptly /leaping/ down those steps and aiming both of his clawed hands for the sensitive, fleshy parts of Duke's shoulders.

COMBATSYS: Duke endures Kurow's Deep Strike.

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Duke             0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0            Kurow


Perhaps, perhaps -- the fact that Duke has yet to really put forth the bulk of his effort is -likely- a good indicator that this is all still a test to him. Watching complacently as Kurow recovers, Duke doesn't even seem to try to follow the man, or rush after him as he ascends the stairs. Is Kurow attempting to run away? Has he decided Duke is far beyond him? The Syndicate lieutenant doubts it, all things considered. But as the ninja ascends, the enforcer just lifts a hand, running large fingers through his black-blonde hair as he looks upwards.
"Krauser... heh. Maybe you're confusing the two of us, boy. Am I the one overextending myself, or is it the young man picking fights with Wolfgang Krauser?" And then... Kurow leaps. Straight into the air, descending like a shadowy blur straight for Duke. Those claws lash out, stab into skin in a spray of blood...
... which might be about the time Kurow may note a hand lashing out directly for his throat.

COMBATSYS: Duke successfully hits Kurow with Treadmill.

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Duke             1/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0            Kurow


Blood drips down against the cold, crushed steps between Duke's feet as he takes a firm grasp of Kurow's throat. Fingers dig in deep; it's clear that, although those claws stabbed in, they didn't stab in quite so deep; not nearly enough to hinder Duke from lashing out the moment Kurow attacked to pluck him from midair. With a sudden forward -yank-, Duke's arm extends fully, ripping those claws from his shoulders. "Kazama... the Gedo thug? Don't associate me with that." A sudden pivot on Duke's heel sends him lurching forward, SLAMMING Kurow into the ground beneath them in a simple, brutal maneuver, cracking stone in his wake. And before Kurow can get up, as Duke lifts...
...he SLAMS his heel straight into the young man's sternum.
One thrust, and Kurow is pinned to the ground. In that moment, Duke begins to grind the ninja brutally into the harsh stone with a single foot, applying -so much- pressure that eventually, somehow... his foot snaps DOWNWARD and Kurow is launched -straight- into the air from the force, send soaring in a vertical arch away from Duke.
"I'm something far more than that."

"You assume /I'm/ the one picking the fights," Kurow counters, before Duke suddenly grabs at his throat with one hand and wrenches those claws out of himself. A certain disgust settles over Kurow -- this is why you don't overextend like that, he reminds himself, not against someone with the kind of supernatural toughness that a man like Duke has. As the brutal street-fighter slams Duke into the stone, grinding his heel into Kurow's chest, Kurow takes a deep breath -- just before he's /launched/. That was unexpected, and even he can't quite figure out the physics behind it -- but it was impressive, at least.

"Well, you're certainly /faster/ than Kazama is, I'll give you that much," the youth forces out, starting to really fatigue from the rigors of the battle. He can't keep aggressing like this -- it's only getting him torn to shreds. No, he needs to try a different approach -- let Duke come to him, perhaps... Yes, that seems like it'd be for the best, he tells himself, as he starts to back away even farther than Duke's launcher tossed him, studying the man all the while. It's just the two of them, this shrine, and these steps -- that's all that exists. That's all the youth needs to concentrate on.

COMBATSYS: Kurow focuses on his next action.

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Duke             1/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0            Kurow


Let Duke come for Kurow. The dark-skinned enforcer only pauses as he observes the ninja calmly, watching as he lands from the sudden skyward journey. Duke can tell, from that blow -- this boy has impressive strength all his own. And isn't stupid, either. Looking towards the ninja, and then towards the environment all around them, Duke's brows furrow for a moment in contemplation. He ducks down, picks something up with the downward drift of dirt between his fingers, and looks -back- towards Kurow. "You're not bad yourself. But you've got something more than just all -that-... don't you?"
And without much more than that, Duke flings his right hand forward. From it flies out a single, small rock; a tiny chunk of debris hurled with a magnificent amount of force. It cuts through the air, the wind whistling around it as it makes one path; one simple path... aimed squarely to smack right into Kurow's left eye. "Show me!"

COMBATSYS: Duke successfully hits Kurow with Thrown Object.

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Duke             1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0            Kurow


The little stone doesn't hit Kurow in the eye -- that'd be a little too good, especially in his weakened state. It /does/ catch him squarely in the forehead, though, knocking him a little bit off-guard -- even under the best of circumstances, getting hit in the head hurts like crazy. "I just might have something you're not seeing, certainly," Kurow says, with a grin starting to cross his face. "But are you really willing to find out what it is?!" He's losing, but then, that's to be expected -- he just got beaten up by Krauser. The fact that he hasn't been completely destroyed is adequate.

Reaching down, Kirishima picks up the very rock that hit him, the rock with just the tiniest fleck of his blood on it... and gives it a quick toss into the air to check its weight and aerodynamic behavior, just once. That's all the youth needs, though, before he gives it a second toss, this one obviously intended to strike Duke likewise in the face. His arc is a little lazier than Duke's own, though, and he actually jogs /behind/ it -- curious, for a man who'd previously wanted to keep his distance.

COMBATSYS: Duke endures Kurow's Thrown Object.

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Duke             1/-----==/=======|======-\-------\0            Kurow


It is, indeed, to Kirishima's credit that he hasn't quite been knocked out yet despite his fight with Krauser earlier in the day. It's something that Duke keeps in mind throughout... even while concentrating on his steadily advancing opponent.
The rock lashes out, the very same rock that Duke had used... and the man simply grins. A vicious, unpleasant grin, but a grin nonetheless. Kurow moves forward with the thrust, and what is Duke's own response? He moves -forward-, -into- the attack, letting the rock smack him straight in the face. The sharp, thick projectile makes a small cut across his forehead, sending his head reeling backwards only slightly... before it snaps -forward-, and his right hand -thrusts- out.
Kurow may be acting oddly for a man who was fighting so cautiously before, but Duke elects not to really pay much heed to this. Instead, black electricity crackles within his grasp before -- in a sudden BURST of power -- chi explodes -out- from his palm in a churning sphere of dark red energy, surrounded by a corona of black. The chi expands outward, seeking to catch Kurow in its wake, and if it does... he'll find that black electricity coursing through his own body, disrupting the flow of chi and life in his very being.

COMBATSYS: Kurow full-parries Duke's Gravitational Wave!

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Duke             0/-------/------=|=======\-------\1            Kurow


That black wave expands out toward Kurow, unsettling him for the briefest of moments -- it's too wide to just roll out of the way... but what can he do? His gut instinct is to throw up his hands, but a little voice tells him, no, this is a time for decisive action. Summoning a small burst of his signature bladed chi to extend those claws, he closes his eyes, /feeling/ the weakest point in that wave of chi so much like his own... and cutting through it.

Duke is unharmed. His wave, however, is not so lucky; it cleaves neatly in two, falling to either side of the powerful man who would take the reins of Southsynd and dissipating... and leaving Duke, no doubt assuming he'd be protected by the wave, lacking in any defense whatsoever. "Is that your best?!" he demands of his opponent, allowing himself a cackle. "I was trying to conserve my strength at first... but now that you've gotten serious..." Dropping low to the ground, Kurow makes full use of his legs, knowing that at least one of his arms (the one that /didn't/ just cleave a gravitational wave in two) isn't too hot right now thanks to Krauser's kicks.

"It's time to respond in kind!" he declares, as he rams his shoulder toward Duke's legs, trying to take away his relatively sure footing and drag him up along the steps with wave after wave of bladed chi like the one he sidestepped earlier, forcing him to skid against them as well as feel the pain from those simulated claws. Right now, it's likely a lot better than using his real ones, after all.

COMBATSYS: Duke Toughs Out Kurow's Kirishima Kyoujuu Reppa EX!

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Duke             0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0            Kurow


Energy expands outward in an undulating, black-red wave. And in the matter of an -instant-...
... it is cleaved straight in two.
It's an unorthodox and unlikely way to deal with Duke's attack, to be sure; he doesn't quite expect -that-, but it comes nonetheless, tearing through his assault harmlessly. It leaves Duke standing in the midst of nothing where there was once a torrential wave of chi. But.
To assume that he is defenseless is something of a mistake.
For a moment, the man known as Hell's Executioner is surprised. And then... almost instantly, that surprise fades, a complacent look etching itself across his face. "My best?" He echoes aloud, running his hand slowly across his scarred neck.
"... it's not even close to that."
Kurow lashes out. And in that instant, as soon as Kurow rams that shoulder into Duke... the two screach -upwards- along the steps, stone grinding into powder beneath Duke's feet. He doesn't move. He doesn't even attempt to stop Kurow. Instead, eventually... the momentum just -stops- at the top of those stairs as that last wave of chi slices into Duke's body. His body cut, bloodied... but grinning. "Impressive."
With Kurow's tremendous momentum stopped -flat-, Duke is quite quick to respond in kind. Shoving the boy -back-, he seeks to dislodge his footing... before Duke simply SLAMS his hands straight into the ground as hard as possible in one tremendous sledgehammer blow. Stone cracks, before moments after, fire SPROUTS from the ground in an explosive wall of power, ripping across the descending stairs in an attempt to consume Kurow in its wake. "GRAAAAAARGH!!"

COMBATSYS: Duke successfully hits Kurow with Sledgehammer.

[                \\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////                    ]
Duke             0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0            Kurow


The wave of force and fire catches Kurow before he can even react, sending Kirishima back down the stairs hard; in addition to being burned by the full force of Duke's chi, Kurow's body makes hard, loud thuds against each successive stair he falls down until he lands neatly at the bottom of the steps, glaring up toward Duke all the while. Even if he isn't in a great position to strike, he's got his last reserves of power to tap into... and they manifest as an enormous, forceful aura flare, one with deep red and black chi that bears a strong resemblance to Duke's own.

The youth takes a breath, staring up toward Duke as he declares, in spite of the mounting pain of two hard-fought battles in one day, "You're not the only one who still has tricks up your sleeve..." as that aura fades to purple for just the briefest moment, then abruptly surges in toward Kurow's hands.

The Kyoujuu Reppa is one of the more 'pure' techniques of Kirishima-Ryuu; it's consistent, within reason, and does the same thing every time. Shinkuu Yamiarashi, the dark storm, has a different advantage... it's versatile, as Kurow has had reinforced in almost every battle he's ever engaged in. It's similar to a great deal of different manifestations of chi, and with only small tweaks, can be used the same way. Usually, he adds aspects of the Howard family's Raging Storm... but thanks to the strange angle and dire straits, tonight the storm will take on a different nature, one which Duke -- if he is /very/ observant -- may be slightly clued into by that split-second shift to purple.

Kurow slams his hands into the ground full-force, looking up toward Duke as he clutches one of those abused arms with the other. A tightly-wound whirlwind of blades, half yellow and half purple, comes up those shrine steps toward Duke at almost the same angle as the steps themselves; it's hard to aim this mixture of Shinkuu Yamiarashi and Ya Sakazuki at this distance, but that last-ditch effort is the best of all the gambles that Kurow has here.

COMBATSYS: Kurow successfully hits Duke with Kirishima Shinkuu Yamiarashi.

[                        \\\\\\  < >  /////////                     ]
Duke             1/-------/=======|-------\-------\0            Kurow


Now this, this is what Duke has been waiting for. Watching in patient silence as Kurow manages to get himself back onto his feet, the Southtown Syndicate lieutenant slips a hand into his pocket, observing with an arched brow that flare of power that bloats out around Kurow. "Oh?" He questions thoughtfully, his head tilting to the side. "You're not done yet, eh? ... Good. Let's see what you've got."
And so does the ninja show Kurow -exactly- what he's got. Despite the fact that it comes out in a way that Duke can predict, predictions can't adequately measure up -power-. And as that sudden whirlwind of blades flies forward to engulf Duke, his response is unbelievably simple; his forearms raise, to simply defend against the storm. The enforcer, however, -severely- underestimates the power behind Kurow's attack. It simply, in an instant, overpowers Duke's defenses as if they were nothing, sending him soaring straight through the air like little more than a ragdoll before he SLAMS, harshly, into a nearby wall. Stone dents inwards, chunks crumbling down in the softest of pitter-patters as Duke remains relatively -stuck- in that indentation for some time. And then, without much adieu, he falls down -- crashing harshly against the ground on his knees.Yet despite it--
--He's smiling.
"Good. You're everything I could have hoped for..." He doesn't expand on this. Instead... he lifts off his feet, and shakes his head. And then, without any hesitation... he leaps. Straight through the air, high upwards, his descent bringing a single knee crashing down -- and aimed for Kurow's face.

COMBATSYS: Duke successfully hits Kurow with Light Kick.

[                        \\\\\\  < >  ////                          ]
Duke             1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0            Kurow


That knee catches Kurow's face with a harsh and sickening crack, bone meeting bone in an already softened area. Kirishima's nose is cursed today, and getting hit in that curiously weak point is enough to bring him down. Yet as he hears those words -- 'you're everything I could have hoped for' -- his curiosity is piqued. Just what was Duke hoping for? He's a Southsynd crony, as far as he can tell... yet...

Perhaps he may have to listen to the man, when he's in a better frame of mind. Right now, though, all Kirishima is running on is adrenaline, a fact which is probably what propels him to go for that last, almost reflexive strike. He can sense the pure power emanating from Duke at this point -- if he puts himself too far out, he'll get annihilated... which is why he elects to stay in his newfound prone position, just sweeping once at the scarred man's legs with his feet, trying to knock him down.

COMBATSYS: Kurow can no longer fight.

[                        \\\\\\  <
Duke             1/-------/=======|


COMBATSYS: Duke interrupts Light Kick from Kurow with Tall Hammer.


COMBATSYS: Duke can no longer fight.


And there it is. The end. Of course, Kurow's annoying sort of persistance helps to aid in making this a more complicated matter to bring to a close. Landing smoothly on his feet, Duke adjusts his suit, watching as the ninja crumples to the ground. "That's it. You're done. Now--"
But apparently, Kurow does not think himself as done as Duke considers him to be. That sudden, lashing strike is unexpected, but... Hell's Executioner is frighteningly swift to respond in kind. The foot lashes out, strikes Duke soundly against the shin... yet at that same moment, he sweeps -outward- with his right leg, BOOTING Kurow in the head as if he were a soccerball. It's improvised, and awkward due to Kurow's own insistence on not staying -down-, but soon after Duke lashes out with that kick and launches the young man into the air, he follows it up with a single, powerful uppercut, launching Kurow further... before he stumbles forward once more, right underneath where the boy should land, to uppercut him -AGAIN- right under the sternum, to send him flying straight through the air just as Duke falters and lands, not out of pain -- but because he had simply been -unbalanced-.
So Duke crashes, face-first into the dirty ground a few feet from the temple stairs. Muttering to himself, he slowly drags -up- onto his feet, staggering forward. A few, slumping steps, and Hell's Executioner comes to a full loom above Kurow. His right hand lashes out -- yet instead of any further abuse, a white card is flung outward, straight towards the plotting ninja in question. On it, in black-ink, the words 'Il Paradiso' are written out in beautiful caligraphy.
"You... should come visit the opera some time. It never hurts to indulge yourself in the arts... and there will be VIP seating waiting for you when you arrive."
Unless stopped, at this point? Duke will simply turn to leave, staggering off with the slightest of limps as his hands shove into his pockets. An interesting meeting, indeed.

An unearthly shriek pierces the air, and an unnatural red light blooms on top of the shrine. There, a black outline against the pale moon, something that can't possibly be human.

The form stands still for a time, before pitching forward. It seems to flow into blood red mist, and it becomes very impossible to distinguish what is the figure and what is the mist as he half-flows half-flips to stand by Kurow. Now in the light, the form is unmistakeable to anyone who's taken any interest in serial crime in the past few decades. A leering red demon's face mask... shocks of red, white, and black hair spilling chaotically upward, back, down, everywhere that stays out of his... its... way. This, then, must be the thing fast ensuring he will become a crime legend: Ojike no Oni, the Demon of Dread. They say he's human... certainly, he is humanoid.

Ojike no Oni crouches down, breaths sounding like hisses through the voice modulator of the mask. He breathes in deeply, everything around him, the visible glowing red eyes behind his mask rolling back. His hands move - he embraces his own elbows, leaning back as he inhales. "Such... passion in this fight..." He grates, the modulator turning his voice into a growl. "The hot, burning taste of two souls locked in combat with each other." Ojike no Oni stands now, back arching as he takes in one last, great breath. "Ohhh... the purity of it. Not bogged down with other flavors, other, useless emotions that just get in the way... the taste of a fight is truly one-of-a-kind."

Ojike no Oni lets out a shudder as he lets it go, reminding himself of the task at hand.

Kirishima's body is rocked by strike after strike, caught first by Duke's forceful kick, then by the man's equally powerful uppercut. That's enough, at last -- Kurow collapses in a heap, half-conscious and just awake enough to see that deep red mist begin to form. This is a familiar sight for him at this point -- he knows not to fear it. It means him, at least, no harm; as such, he grips that card tightly, looking at it once with now-fading vision. "Il... Paradiso..." he says, nodding his head. He's always had a passing interest in the opera, and this is as good an excuse as any to go.

Looking to the Demon of Dread, Kurow wheezes, "I don't think... I can..." The toll of two fights definitely shows on Kurow, and his form finaly goes mostly-limp. Ojike no Oni has a job to do, if nothing else; that red demon, that terrible creature -- which Kurow has somehow gotten to aid him -- needs to extract him. Even though Duke no longer intends to harm him... the fact is, he isn't leaving on his own.

He was content to simply leave.
Let it not be said the unexpected can be a great incentive to linger.
Duke's slow stroll is one without any real destination besides a vague shift in the path towards the city proper. He has work to be done, but none of it pressing; he seems intent on taking a scenic, casual route to take his time to recover from the match and -enjoy- the night air and the cloudless sky. It's his intention.
But there is something else that forces him to come to a stop. That sudden, piercing shriek. Not from any animal -- no natural one -- it's enough to make Duke's head slowly turn, to stare over his shoulder. "..." Wordlessly, Duke shifts to greet the encroaching, mist-enshrouded form head on. The form that makes itself known through the mist isn't one Duke recognizes; legends and rumors do not often circulate to his ears. But... it is unusual, isn't it?
Especially, -especially- his speech. A brow lifts, considering thoughtfully. The figure is strange, and it makes even him pause in speach for a moment -- but not for too long. "... And what are you supposed to be? A monster?" The word draws an amused, casual kind of smile across his lips. He doesn't particularly view the figure as a threat. Strange, but not a threat. "When you're done 'savoring the flavor of the fight,' maybe you'd be obliging enough to tell me who you are... and if you're this kid's friend, maybe you'll tell him to come to the Paradiso Opera House in Metro City as soon as he's able. Or is that a -problem-...?" Not intimidated, no.
But even Duke has to admit, this man is... -unnatural-. Alternatively--
--downright freakish.

Oni no Ojike hunches over Kurow, breathing deeply once before quite simply picking him up, and... sliding him into one of his billowing sleeves. The other hand comes up, the other sleeve billowing out, and in no time it's like he's in a little cradle. A little bizarre cradle. The masked man's head twitches in the direction of Duke once he starts speaking, not noticing him before then, and, well, inhales directly at him.
"You are confused, offput. But you, you have no fear of me... not yet." Halfway through the growling voice becomes a sharp hiss. Ojike no Oni crouches down, gathering for a jump to take himself and Kurow away, a red mist blooming from his eyes. "Hhhhhaaaaaa..." In no time, the mist is obscuring vision. If Duke lets it touch him... something bizarre happens. Whispers, faint on the edge of his mind, like a thousand voices trying to tell him something from just out of earshot. A moment's focus would brush it away. "You do not know me? How unexpected, here in Southtown. You may know me as Ojike no Oni... the Demon of Dread... and I am no friend to anyone. You have however correctly surmised that I have some association with this child. I will inform him of your invitation, for him to make of as he will." The modulator changes a few times again during his speech, sounding like a shriek, a roar, a whisper, an old man...

Had Duke been any other person, this all might have intimidated him, or at the very least unnerved him greatly. But when a man has his neck sawed into and survives the ordeal on top of countless other horrific experiences, even the most unnatural and unusual of men can only induce so many unsettling sensations.
As it stands, the Oni still does his job; the red mist provides a thick veil, one dense enough that Hell's Executioner cannot even see throw it. The whispering voices are enough to daunt, and likely more than enough to send many skimpering away in fear. For Duke, his reaction amounts to a shudder before he shuts his eyes, allowing the voices to flood out of his attention. "Ojike no Oni... hmph." A large hand swipes at the blood-covered mist, in an attempt to simple 'shoo' it all away. However -- it does nothing to alleviate the dense, unnatural fog, leaving Duke to wonder just -what- this is, and just -who- this man is. "... if you've got the message, than that's it. We're done here -- and if you try to follow me... I'll kill you."
The enforcer seems to have no qualms making threats against the bizarre man, despite the almost otherwordly sensations that grace the area now. With a sudden snort, Duke turns, hands shoving deep into his pockets... and head shaking in an attempt to rid the voices from his head, an effect that is slowly -maddening- him. So many... -unique- people here in Southtown...

Duke would hear one more sharp inhale as he turned. "Ha ha ha ha ha... not a perfect shell. There are cracks." Beneath the mask, Kichiga Kyoufumaru, teacher at Justice High, smiles. The first man he would truly call a fighter that he has met... and he is not completely without fear. Kichiga will learn what evokes terror in him and bring him to his knees someday. And it will taste so sweet...
"HA HA HA HA HA!" The laugh, roared out through the modulator, echoes out from the shrine for some time after Kichiga has left for Justice with Kurow in tow.

Log created on 20:34:40 07/12/2007 by Duke, and last modified on 11:50:20 07/13/2007.