Description: Ojike no Oni is interrupted in his twisted hobby by Interpol officer Soma Travedi.
Night has fallen over Southtown. It's a cloudy night, threatening to rain at any minute. Thunder rumbles in the distance, low and foreboding. The approaching storm has been claimed as a power outage risk. It's a terrible night to be home alone. It's just the kind of night Taiyo student Komoko Tachisana is terrified of.
A single emergency call is sent to the Southtown police, and from there bounced to Interpol. A figure shrouded in a blood-red mist was spotted breaking into the small house, somehow unlocking the windows and climbing in without touching them. What was seen of him was unmistakeable - long black, white, and red hair. A leering demon's mask. The unmistakeable mist. It all fits the description of one man, one myth: The Demon of Dread, one of the longest active serial criminals in history.
Komoko winces at a crack of thunder as she, oblivious, prepares a cup of instant ramen. All she can do on a night like this is tough it out - she convinces herself nothing is going to happen as she kneels down before her table, setting a stray schoolbook on the cup ramen to let the water heat it. She shakes her head - strange whispers, right at the edge of her thoughts... she can't explain it... it must be the night getting to her. She brushes at her shoulder... looks... and sees a tendril of red smoke. Alarmed that there might be a fire, she spins around.
A grating voice, altered by a modulator, whispers from the mist: "What do you fear?"
A scream splits the air.
It's a little black phone on the corner of his desk. It's cleverly disguised as an antique, and if a casual passerby picks it up they hear no dialtone, see no wires. It's like a memento of the days of Alexander Graham Bell, the tall and slender thing. In truth it's a hotline, connected by two-way radio rather than landlines, and there's maybe a handful of people in all of Southtown who know anything about it. The Chief of Police, certainly, and a few of his close aides... Southtown's special crimes unit. Soma asked for it when he arrived. It's difficult to keep your cover when there's traceable phone calls from the police to his 'office', after all... but he's still a policeman, even if he's undercover.
The mandate was for news of unusual crimes, things that don't fit even the decidedly offkilter baseline of Southtown police work. By day, Soma can pretend to be a reporter or a simple rubbernecker, careful to have his badge to present to local authorities if necessary. By night it's another story; the undercover agent's own prodigious stealth and detective skills mean he does recon on his own, searches on his own, and goes where Southtown's finest can't go.
Like this rooftop, for example, a mere house and a half away from the scene in question. The tight grey turtleneck Soma wears under his otherwise all-black ensemble is the only visual marker of his presence as he moves from roof to roof, letting his physical senses guide him one way... and his other, more esoteric senses guide him another. He *feels* the girl's scream -- that unmistakable burst of split-second, mind-numbing terror -- a split second before he hears it, dark purple eyes zeroing in on the location. He pats his chest, just once, to triplecheck that he remembered his M9, and then heads toward the curiously closed window. He can't just barge in, not yet...
The window may look closed from a distance, but Kichiga got sloppy, just a little. The window remains open, though there are no real signs of forced entry. The inside of the house is dark, with only one light coming from the only occupied room.
The tormentor wastes no time in moving forward, holding open his right hand. His sleeve billows outward, and a long cane like one an old man may use to walk, shod in steel and colored a pitch black, slides out into his hand. He spins it once and hisses, the sound coming out horrible and inhuman through the modulator. Komoko takes a step back, bumping into her table, and upending the cup ramen. Hot, nearly boiling water splashes on her legs - she gasps in pain and staggers forward, and Ojike no Oni lashes out, catching her in the face with his cane and knocking her down. He drops to a crouch smoothly, pressing her face against the floor and /inhaling./ "Aaaaaahhhhh." Red eyes roll back in his head as he tastes the girl's terror--
His masked head snaps up, 'hair' whipping through the air as he snaps his head toward the window. Someone else... approaching. No fear. Confidence... like he's supposed to be here. His grip on the cane tightens, and he drags the girl with him as he moves to stand next to the doorframe, waiting to see who has followed him. He keeps her pressed against the sparse carpet to muffle any sounds.
There is a soft sound, like someone slapping a length of wet carpet with a stick, as Soma hits the backyard of the address in question. He'd asked the police for a few moments to get there ahead of time and forestall problematic questions, but he can hear the sirens of their approach. The undercover agent can't help but grimace at the possible complications, but at the same time he respects that the police are just doing their job... and not for the first time in the past few weeks, he wishes he were working out in the open.
The Baretta slides from his shoulder holster easily, pulled under the mid torso-height end of his short jacket, and Soma's arms form a 'V' with the gun pointed down as he edges toward the window. He really doesn't like the stupid thing, but it's expected... and sometimes the look of a good service handgun will cause less gutsy crims to give up on the spot, which is helpful.
But the almost buzzing-like psychic static in his head suggests otherwise. Soma's empathic sense is not finely attuned; in fact, he spent much of his youth learning to suppress it so that he didn't go insane with 'borrowed' rage, lust, anger, and terror. But ever since Thailand, he's felt his awareness growing more and more even when he doesn't want it to be... and he can 'hear' it now. Something's not right here.
Soma notices just for a moment that he's about to enter a well-lit room with the darkness at his back... about the damndest stupidest thing you can do, if there's someone in there. Swallowing his reservations and praying surprise is on his side, the ICPO officer edges toward the window, very slowly, and then in a single motion spins, pulling the window open somewhat violently with one hand and pointing the M9 into the room with the other, his eyes tracking the barrel.
Even to someone with weak, untrained empathy, the disguised old man is like a festering pit of twisted evil. Even more terrifying, it is cold evil - there is no hate, no anger, no real desire. There is just pure wrong coming from him.
He reacts quickly when he hears the window open - the one next to the one he came in. Keeping one sandal'd foot on the girl's head, he spins out, flinging his left hand toward the window as though throwing a rock. "Be cursed!"
A small, metal censer on a chain, trailing thick mist, flies out of his sleeve as though propelled. It comes out of the window, not directly striking Soma, but possibly close enough to deliver its payload anyway. Psycho Power mist explodes out from the censer as it reaches the length of its flight, snapping back into Kichiga's sleeve. If Soma lets any of that mist touch him, it burns cold, causing sharp pain and something else: It acts as a channel for Kichiga's telepathy, and it sounds like a thousand voices screaming in his head, shattering focus and being just mentally exhausting. It only lasts a few seconds before the mist dissipates and the channel is broken.
Komoko thrashes underneath Kichiga's foot, twisting her head aside enough to shout: "Help me! Oh God, help me!"
COMBATSYS: Kichiga has joined the fight here.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Kichiga
COMBATSYS: Soma has joined the fight here.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Soma
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Kichiga 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Soma overcomes Dark Censer from Kichiga with Nova.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Soma
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Kichiga 0/-------/-------|
Were it not for that consuming, powerful sense of... wrongness, of that disturbance in the Force, Soma would very likely have been 'cursed' just as Kichiga wanted. As it stands, however, the sudden assault on his sixth sense of the Demon's unsettling presence pushes him *immediately* onto the defensive, adrenaline racing. He doesn't know what the censer is for; he doesn't know what the mist actually is, and he for sure doesn't understand why he should be 'cursed', but the sum total of that evaluation is that he really doesn't want any of this to touch him, at all.
The M9 falls to the floor; in this case it's probably useless anyway, and the ICPO agent needs his hand free to disappear briefly into his sleeve and return with a throwing spike -- a slender, short throwing knife no longer than someone's finger. He doesn't have a verbal reply; he doesn't need one, at the moment. What his brain is screaming at him is enough already... but oddly, it makes it that much easier for the spike to suddenly glow bright with silver Psycho Power, the edges a crackling black, that Soma hurls at the oncoming censer, knocking it off course just in time to keep him safe from the mist that floats through the room, and sending the spike -- weakened though it is from being off-course -- onward toward Kichiga himself.
COMBATSYS: Kichiga blocks Soma's Nova.
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Soma 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Kichiga
The censer still discharges mist, in an arc through the air as the knife rings against it. That same knife continues on to slam right into Ojike no Oni's hip - something which he does not even react to. He is more concerned with the girl's scream. "Be silent!" He hisses out, the voice modulator shifting. Kichiga drops to a knee and chops his hand down at her head, striking hard and knocking her out in one go.
Having ensured his prey won't be moving away from him, the demon stands up, cane sliding back up his sleeve. He backs up, moving into a shadow, until only his brightly glowing red eyes can be seen - and then red mist rolls out, almost hiding even that. His voice, though whispering, seems impossibly loud: "Come and face me, if you're a fool..." It seems he's going to force Soma to bring this closer, and more personal, within the cramped home.
COMBATSYS: Kichiga focuses on his next action.
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Soma 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Kichiga
"I'm no fool," Soma says, eyeing the Demon of Dread carefully. He doesn't keep dossiers memorized, but the most notorious ones -- the ones that are as much urban legend as they are case file -- are hard to ignore. Never mind the fact that he is becoming increasingly aware that the aura Kichiga radiates has a name in everyday language, and that name is 'dread'. It does all seem to fall together.
"I'm a policeman," the ICPO agent finishes. Normal cops won't have a chance against this guy; he's got to do something, and do it now before things get out of hand.
Flexing his fingers, Soma crouches forward a fraction of a step, his hands ready to either strike or snap his daggers from his sleeves, whichever is more appropriate. Besides, the law dictates that he's got an entire spiel he needs to grit out before he can knock this guy's block off in the first place. "'Ojike no Oni'," Soma bites out, as if saying the overblown title is offensive to him on some level, "by the authority of the Intercontinental Police Office I am placing you under arrest. Let the girl go and come quietly, or I can't be responsible for the consequences of your actions!" Not exactly the most accurate Miranda reading, but this isn't the US.
COMBATSYS: Soma focuses on his next action.
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Soma 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Kichiga
Laughter rolls out from the mist, echoing on the walls of the house. "No earthly authority matters to me... I have evaded you fools for decades. Dare you think that will end here, of all places?" Something whips out of the mist, striking the lone light and shattering it, pitching the entire house in blackness. "I am timeless... I am fear itself, the cold sweat, the twitching spine. Such as yourself will not, cannot, stop me."
Suddenly, that mist pours out of the windows, swarming around Soma and obscuring his sight for just a few vital seconds. "I'll send you to Hell, policeman, and meet you there in a thousand years!"
COMBATSYS: Kichiga successfully hits Soma with Foul Punishment.
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Soma 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Kichiga
Too late for any kind of action, a light blooms through the mist. Kichiga is up close and personal, the cane sliding out of his sleeve. Blood red psycho power is focused within it, forming a wide flare of energy like a broadsword. The tormentor spins forward, lashing out across Soma's chest. The mist clears.
Even for someone who's trained to deal with the unexpected, the Demon of Dread's sudden attack *and* simultaneous manipulation of the surroundings catches Soma entirely off guard. He only notices Kichiga at the last second, as the only thing between the two men is the red glow of the attack, and his attempt to backstep out of it is, almost certainly, too little too late. But to his credit, Soma doesn't scream; he barely even grunts. While the attack hurts, and hurts badly -- the line of red across his shredded grey undershirt is proof of that -- the voices in his head have an entire childhood of competition. Hurt they may... break him, they don't.
Quite the opposite, in fact; while Soma himself may not be able to move around light or cause the air to change, he most certainly can strike back the only way he knows how: very, very quickly. With snakelike speed, his right hand snaps up, index and middle fingers extended, toward Kichiga's neck, looking to apply sudden and intensely painful pressure to one of the more easily-accessible nerve clusters on the human body. "You've never met a cop like me before, buddy, I promise you that."
COMBATSYS: Soma successfully hits Kichiga with Quick Throw.
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Soma 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 Kichiga
The disguised man hisses as Soma drives for his neck, the cane already slid back up his sleeve. With the high collar of his clothing pulled aside, Soma will notice something about the mask - it is attached to Kichiga's skin by several small hooks, constantly digging into his flesh, thin lines of blood running down. It must hurt so much, but it also makes it incredibly difficult to get that mask off of him.
And that is why he can push through the pain of the grip, reaching up to try and seize Soma's hand, twisting around with his other hand held in a claw. "Hahahahahahahaha!! Young pup, you have so far to go yet. Do you wish to waste that here?" He drives his hand up at Soma's solar plexus to stun him briefly before attempting to follow it up with an elbow strike and a swift series of graceful palms to the body.
COMBATSYS: Kichiga successfully hits Soma with Quick Punch.
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Soma 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Kichiga
His first instinct, as Soma draws back his hand, is to go limp; his opponent seems like the type to capitalize on the sudden close quarters and try to strike back, and if the undercover agent can flow with the inevitable followup just enough he might be able to get off a counterstrike of his own before Kichiga can get all the way through whatever he has planned.
This is, sadly, not how it works out. In fact, Soma *oversells* the strike to his stomach and is falling *forward* when the elbow comes in, and by then it's too late to do anything about it at all. The combined blows send him stumbling back against the wall, loose objects in the room rattling with the sudden, jerky impact.
His dark purple eyes opening slowly from the wince of pain as he recoiled, Soma locks them on Kichiga and sets his jaw. If that's the way it has to be... "If you consider apprehending a known whackjob a waste of time, then sure," he grumbles, holding out his hands. With a flash of black-limned silver, Soma's trademark energy daggers appear, one in each hand... and darting forward with almost superhuman speed, he slashes them both in an X-pattern, looking to catch Kichiga across the stomach. "I personally find it exhilarating."
COMBATSYS: Kichiga fails to interrupt Gemini EX from Soma with Condemn.
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Soma 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Kichiga
"Not a waste of time... a waste of life!" The modulator increases the volume of Kichiga's words to a roar as he thrusts both hands forward, sleeves blowing open wide with a red light beginning to burst forth. "I condemn you!" The light shows the pale skin of Kichiga's arms, wrinkled with age, giving the lie to the rumor that Ojike no Oni is a mantle passed down, or taken up by copycats when one stops. It must be the same man, still active after nearly fifty years. Yet, he fights like a young man, none of his age showing in his movements.
The Condemnation needs only an instant to explode forth, but that's an instant Soma doesn't give him. The daggers cut through his black chinese-style shirt, revealing thicker fabric beneath. Blood drips out, proving he's at least human, and he is rocked back into the girl's dresser. Pictures topple from the top to shatter against the floor.
The energy-knives dissipate in a burst of silver light as quickly as they appeared, but Soma doesn't waste his momentum on crowing or posturing. Instead, he is advancing across the room even as Kichiga is stumbling back into the dresser, a curious sense of rage building in the back of his head... a burning desire to simply grab this particular criminal by the face and ram it into the wall until he stops moving. It's not typically how Soma works -- as rule-bendy as he can be, he respects due process -- but the carefully modulated, precise Soma Travedi of the daytime isn't 100% in control right now.
In fact, it may be the sudden surge of emotion, the psychic spillover from Kichiga to a man entirely too receptive to such things, that's won the Demon of Dread this battle, in the long run.
The ICPO agent's followup is not particularly well-aimed but it certainly has power behind it; with a flick of the wrist his 'real' wire-daggers drop into his hands. Twisting it perpendicular to his body, Soma lunges, looking to drive the hilt of his right dagger into Kichiga's curious mask... and then spin to slash the left dagger crosswise along his body. "Condemn this, freakshow."
COMBATSYS: Kichiga blocks Soma's Fierce Strike.
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Soma 1/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Kichiga
Kichiga's left hand shoots up, catching the hilt in his palm. His right hand likewise comes up, a thick chain lashing from the sleeve to drag the knife into his shoulder, where it does less damage. "Such base retorts." He moves in again, fabric flapping as he jumps up and springs off the wall.
"Tell me, policeman..." Ojike no Oni inhales sharply. The hot taste of anger spills over his tongue. "What drives you to such anger?" He whips his leg up, dropping it down on Soma's shoulder and landing smoothly into a sweeping kick, backing away. He finally assumes his fighting stance, light on his feet, left hand held further out than his right, both hands open and palms forward. "You try to control it, wall it off with stoicism, but I can /taste/ it, burning so sweetly. Do you fear losing yourself, policeman? Do you long to keep a lid on that control?"
COMBATSYS: Soma Toughs Out Kichiga's Light Kick!
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Soma 1/------=/=======|=====--\-------\0 Kichiga
Such a kick should, by all rights, have laid the policeman flat on the ground if it connected, the weight of Kichiga's leg descending like a piledriver to smack Soma into the floor. It's a textbook use of force, but no less effective for it. The only major problem is that it 100% fails to knock Soma over in any meaningful way. He doesn't even get out of the path of the kick; he simply lets it *land* on his shoulder with a meaty thud before turning his gaze to the Demon of Dread.
The worst part is that he's right on all counts. Fighting -- even in college, in a laid-back place like UCLA -- was a way for Soma to work out his demons. In his youth the meditative lessons of Varma Kalai helped him keep his emotions under control... but the physical practical helped him work the rage out in the best way: through his fingertips. 'Policeman' is not the type of job you give this sort of individual, especially not a policeman with as much latitude as Soma has to handle 'unusual' criminals as he sees fit.
In one quick motion, the ICPO agent twists, lashing out with one dagger, the blade detaching from the hilt and looking to wrap around Kichiga's leg with a length of extremely strong wire cable before he can retract his leg... and if Soma can keep his grip, he heaves with all his might and hurls the Oni outside through the very window he came in through, using the wire-dagger like a slingshot. "Shut up and surrender already," he growls, trying not to give the Demon the pleasure of hearing how right he is.
COMBATSYS: Soma successfully hits Kichiga with Wishing Star.
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Soma 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\0 Kichiga
Perhaps any other empath would have failed to feel that faint, nearly-nonexistant twist at Soma's core at the old man's words. But empathy is the only aspect of Psycho Power he has had control over utterly since the moment he was born. His ability to taste the feelings of others is perhaps unparalleled by any but the greatest. So, even as the dagger's wire wraps around Kichiga, he laughs right at him.
"So that is something that you fear..." If he was going to continue, he can't, far too busy being flung out of the window to roll upon the sidewalk. His hand, in a claw, drops down to the sidewalk, digging grooves in it as he halts his progress. The knife finally comes out of his hip, ringing on the sidewalk. Despite all of Soma's blows upon him, Ojike no Oni stands as though unharmed, that leering demon face hiding any emotion. Behind the mask, the old man is smiling. Something interesting has happened tonight.
Then, he seems to collapse into that blood-red mist. It doesn't bloom around him... he falls into it. Another cloud blooms several feet closer, the masked head briefly visible before it happens again... and again... and then not. Unless Soma turned around. Silently, behind the Interpol agent, Kichiga lifts his right foot, bending with impossible flexibility for an old man. "Not in your lifetime, pup." The foot comes crashing down at his back.
COMBATSYS: Soma dodges Kichiga's Heavy Kick.
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Soma 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\0 Kichiga
Is it something he fears? Or merely something Soma would rather not think about? In either sense, it's certainly not doing him any favors but it's not keeping him from doing his job, either. Yes, the roiling sea of anger and violence that Kichiga has thrown his fishing line into is certainly showing itself in his fighting style, but deep down the ICPO agent is a professional, too; he got the man out of the room with the poor victim, for starters. And the Demon can most certainly sense that, even if it's carried out with brutish force, Soma intends to *stop* him, here and now.
Even as he flips his wrist, snapping the blade and wire of his right dagger back into the hilt, he notes the sudden disappearance of his opponent and frowns. Second time he's pulled that trick in one night... but this time he's ready. Before, Soma had been relying on physical senses to anticipate, but this time he simply lets Psycho Power and intuition take over. A split second before Kichiga's kick slices through the air at him, Soma leaps upwards, landing on the *side* of the house in a crouch, defying gravity for a split second. "Why do the crazy ones..." he begins, before diving back down at the Oni, one dagger slicing a silvery crescent through the dark of night in a downward slash, "...always resist so damn long?!"
COMBATSYS: Kichiga blocks Soma's Medium Strike.
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Soma 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\1 Kichiga
If Kichiga is irritated by the dodging of his kick, he shows no signs. The chain comes out again, wrapping along his left hand, along with the cane to his right. The dagger shrieks against the metal of the chain, sending painful vibrations up his arm but blunting most of the knife's edge.
He responds to Soma with a laugh. "Canned banter once again, policeman?" He spins the cane in his hand and whips it up at Soma in three wide, crushing arcs. "You can't hide behind it!"
COMBATSYS: Soma blocks Kichiga's Phobia.
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Soma 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\1 Kichiga
The resulting defense is actually quite fascinating in its execution; Soma lands in a crouch after his attack is deflected and rises just in time to see Kichiga's cane coming right at his head. The first he meets with an extended forearm, the cane smacking into it with a painful-sounding *crack*, but the next two are met with carefully interposed parries from Soma's daggers; first the left, then the right. Although the initial blow certainly stung, it is considerably less vexing than the full brunt would have been.
Hopping back a step, the ICPO agent's hand goes to his jacket, withdrawing another throwing spike which he hurls at Kichiga, not bothering to charge it with his own Psycho Power... as if he had the time or the concentration, at this point, to do so. The Oni is sure to notice it: the mental effort of keeping things under control, the voice saying 'just get through this and then you can go home and let it all out'. The Tomorrow At Tara syndrome he's used to deal with it all. "I didn't know conversation was part of the deal," he bites out, clearly annoyed. "Usually I throw on the cuffs and take people to the nearest police box. Should I ask what your favorite goddamned movie is, perhaps?"
COMBATSYS: Kichiga dodges Soma's Thrown Object.
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Soma 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\1 Kichiga
Kichiga flows to the side, easily dodging the spike as it comes at him, gripping his cane with both hands. "I can feel it. Controlling yourself in iron walls. But they're shaking, it's all in danger. If you relent for a moment, it might all slip, policeman." Tendrils of mist reach out toward Soma, whispers starting to creep in as he tries to exercise his weak, one-way telepathy. "If you're not careful, it might all crash down, and then what will you become?"
Kichiga suddenly surges forward, gracelessly slamming the cane at Soma's stomach, pulling it up and around and slamming it at the back of his head if that works. "Show me, policeman! I am my own demon, walking among you every day! Show me your inner demon... what do you keep locked away?"
COMBATSYS: Soma interrupts Random Weapon from Kichiga with Sapta Rishis.
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Soma 0/-------/----===|=======\====---\1 Kichiga
There is a lot to gain from using this tactic, trying to goad your opponent into giving in to the voices in his head, especially when you know what the voices are saying. If he's off-balance, off-kilter, then he's yours. A cat and mouse game.
Of course, sometimes when you corner a mouse it turns out to be a mongoose.
The mist does indeed have a particularly nasty effect on the young policeman's mind. Even if there were no voices attached, he has plenty of memories to work with. The overwhelming urge to cry when his mother was frustrated by her son's impossible moodiness... his rage at his father's disappointment in his son's self control... and the intense feeling of abandonment when he became someone else's problem. Haunting echoes of the Psycho Power that Vega infused the very geography with, in Thailand... that sense of the hungry dark closing in.
The cane doesn't even make the full swing. It hits Soma's stomach as he launches himself at Kichiga with a snarl of inarticulate fury, the staff smacking into his gut with a meaty *thud* but the actual blow barely registering on Soma's dark features, his violet eyes flashing. In a blur of speed that moves from 'almost superhuman' to 'actually superhuman', he lashes out with his dagger seven times in quick succession, driving each blow into a vital nerve point with an accuracy his state shouldn't even allow, each lightspeed stab punctuated by his own voice: "Shut! Your! God! Damned! Mouth! And! DIE!"
The dagger strikes drive into Kichiga, blood dripping onto the ground. He staggers backwards a few steps, dropping the cane from his hands. He reaches up to grip his side, and drop to a knee. His mouth just may be working soundlessly behind the mask, but it's impossible to see any details. With one groan, he collapses.
A few long heartbeats pass. "Ha ha ha ha..." Chains whip out from Kichiga's sleeves, slamming into the ceiling and just pulling him right back to his feet. A blood red glow surrounds them as they start lashing about almost randomly, breaking the posessions of this poor girl, ruining the entire room and slapping into the ground near Soma's feet. Kichiga breathes deeply. "Such a turmoil... oh, what a life for one so young. It's absolutely delicious..." The old man is able to /completely ignore/ the pain of the knife wounds, wounds doing nothing that they should be, though blood very slowly pools under his feet. His hands come forward, each palm resting on a shoulder. "You have a beast chained within you, policeman. A madness..." Suddenly, Kichiga's body appears to bulge. It is an illusion, but terrifying. "But mine is chained without! Feel it now... this is my MADNESS MANIFEST!" The masked man floats in the air, Psycho Power pouring out from his eyes like a liquid, as chains of pure red energy explode out all over his body, lashing forward at the Interpol agent. The two real chains seek to loop about his feet, holding him in place so that the Psycho Chains can lash, pummel, and rend him, flailing about in pure chaos. "AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
COMBATSYS: Soma blocks Kichiga's Madness Manifest.
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Soma 0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0 Kichiga
Perhaps like the blood that drains from Kichiga's wounds, Soma's sudden and rather too violent response to the Demon's attempt to bring out some inner demon appears to have drained a lot of the violence right out of him. His flushed, dusky skin goes slightly paler as he straightens, his daggers hanging in his hands very lightly, as if they'll fall to the ground if he makes any sudden moves. He actually stares at Kichiga, uncomprehending and dazed, until the Demon begins his attack.
The chains do indeed snap around his ankles, limiting his mobility... but the Interpol officer isn't helpless just yet. As the blood red Psycho Power-formed chains come for him, Soma's arms become a flurry of motion, 'parrying' the various chain strikes as best he can. It's not easy to do, and a few get through, nicking him and causing flashes of intense pain, but his own psychic energy coats his blades, each glowing silver-black in the dim light, as they bat away the chains... leaving a bloodied and bowed but unbroken Soma in their wake.
After a moment he looks up, not attacking, trying to get some sanity back into his mind, his teeth gritted through pain and blood loss as he addresses Kichiga. "Maybe we're all a little crazy. But you happen to be both crazy and *under arrest*, and I don't need a therapist. Last chance... to come quietly."
COMBATSYS: Soma gains composure.
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Soma 0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0 Kichiga
After the mad flailing, the chains all spread out, reaching across the room like a great grasping hand, and come in for one final strike. Something in Soma's will bursts back, however... the Psycho Power shatters as it nears, the chains slipping back up Kichiga's sleeves as he lands... and finally sags a bit, showing the effects of his wounds. "Ha ha ha... as I've said before, policeman... it has been so long that your people have failed to catch me. I will admit you have taken my prey from me this night, but you will not always be there. And you cannot stop me now." Red mist begins to swirl under Kichiga's feet, wind blowing despite them being back indoors.
"I have learned much about you this night... I will meet you again... and I will drag that which you keep locked away out into the light. Know that it is inevitable, policeman, and be terrified of it." He collapses again into mist, the wind picking up in a final gust that scatters it - scatters him? - far and wide, leaving nothing but a laugh.
"Ha ha ha ha ha..."
COMBATSYS: Kichiga has left the fight here.
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Soma 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Soma has ended the fight here.
Log created on 00:14:46 07/16/2007 by Kichiga, and last modified on 03:50:45 07/16/2007.