Description: WHAT IS EVEN GOING ON IN THIS SCENE?! Read it and try to make sense of the senseless carnage for yourselves!!
Rolento humps Vice
The 'R' organization is closing a semi-important deal this evening, a business arrangement with some wing or another of the Russian Mafia, and Rugal has seen fit to send at least one of his 'secretaries' along to make sure things go smooth.
Of course, she's not here to do any negotiation, or ensure the deal closes. No. When she's asked to make sure things 'go smooth,' she's meant to make sure nobody interferes with the proceedings. Rugal knows Vice doesn't have the attention span to give much of a shit about the deal itself. But he does know that if he tells her to go along and take care of any snags, she'll do so with the singleminded tenacity of an attack dog trained upon a target.
That narrow-minded focus is why she's not the one doing the talking, down in the basement of this near-empty bar tucked away in a corner of Moscow. She's stationed up top, in the bar proper, slumped in a chair and waiting: that one thing she hates doing above all else.
"Surikov better hurry it the fuck up," she murmurs to herself, earning a few askance glances, and pushes away her empty glass.
People -- organizations -- have been stirring, as of late. Becoming more active in their respective trades, for whatever reason, and this conversely means that those who oppose them have begun to stir as well. "R" has it's share of enemies. It should be no wonder, then, in a deal such as this, Rugal would have deigned to send one of his most trusted subordinates; the threats to his work are many and varied, but the single largest thorn in his side?
Is waiting right outdoor.
Of the many vehicles parked outside this simple, run-down Moscow bar is an unumarked, plain white van -- windowless in the back. Of course, as plain and unassuming as it might be on the outside, in the actual van it's a hotspot of activity. A group of men, all dressed in vaguely militaristic attire, are working on arming themselves for what is to be an inevitable confrontation; all manners of electronic devices help to monitor the outside world, a tap allowing a direct feed into the basement where the deal is going on. And, of all of these men, one stands in stark contrast to them: wearing his traditional baseball cap and shades, Clark Steel leans against a wall of the van interior, frowning thoughtfully as he tugs his sports cap a bit more closely over his face. He recognizes one of the voices at the upper level -- and minimal surveilance tells him all that he needs to know.
"Great," he mutters. "She's here." Well.
This is going to be a lot messier than planned.
It is as Vice pushes away her empty glass, though, that the doors to the bar SMASH open with the splintering of wood and metal. Instantly, men begin to rush in, armed to the teeth as red laser scopes stream throughout the haze of the bar. And through the chaos and the yelling, a single, confident voice rings out. "Unit 1! Go get our targets! I'll take care of the extra!" Amidst the rush of men, Clark stands out, offering a brief wave of his hand -- in offering towards one person in particular.
"Yo, Vice."
He can only imagine how badly this can possibly go.
COMBATSYS: Clark has started a fight here.
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Clark 0/-------/-------|
Rugal is not going to be pleased.
And if Rugal isn't pleased, you can bet your ass Vice will be absolutely, frothingly, rabidly livid.
Kind of like she is now.
She's out of her chair the instant the door breaks in, her coiling languor gone in a split second to be replaced with a mad rage. She doesn't bother giving orders or checking to see what's going on below-- the men she's here with, the ones with brains, Surikov and his assistants: they're competent enough at giving commands to the units R has stationed in the area. Vice? Vice is going straight for the head of this party-crashing operation, barreling straight for the kill like a shotgun trained straight at a snake's face. Blow off the head, and the body should-- well. This is Ikari. It probably won't die instantly. But it'll be a hell of a lot easier to skewer.
"Extra?!" The word is shrieked in a mindless fury, the woman veritably howling with laughter as she goes straight from zero to maniacal in the space of two seconds. Whirling skirts herald her brazen vault over the table that separates her from Clark: she lands with a deceptive lightness, and then lunges straight forwards, shoulder-first, in a smashing blow hard enough to crack ribs. "I should gut you for such an insult!"
COMBATSYS: Vice has joined the fight here.
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Clark 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Vice
COMBATSYS: Vice successfully hits Clark with Mayhem.
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Clark 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Vice
One of the most important things to remember when fighting a person like Vice. She hits hard.
And she's fucking crazy. That's important, too.
It's this in mind that brings Clark to opt towards getting -out- of her way the second she begins to charge at him. Sadly, he's a touch bit too slow -- Vice comes at him with a speed he wasn't quite expecting, and his swift reflexes all come for naught as she SLAMS into his torso with horrifically tremendous force. With enough power behind it that it forces Clark to grunt out from the impact, he is forced off his feet, -slamming- into a nearby table with a splintering of wood. "... ugh." he mutters to himself. He forgot about the whole psycho-strong thing.
"You should, huh?" Still, Clark Steel is on his feet quickly enough in a short hop, leaping back onto his feet with only a grunt of effort on his part. Rolling either of his shoulders, he drops down just as quickly as he got up, making a lunge towards Vice. He seeks to lash out with his hands, make a grip for her waist -- and if he should manage it, he'll simply lift her up and SLAM her into the bar counter, straight into all those glasses and bottles. "Probably won't, though. HMPH!!"
COMBATSYS: Vice endures Clark's Medium Throw.
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Clark 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Vice
Clark's hands vise shut about her waist. Vice doesn't look nearly as concerned as she should be, instead letting out a mock-offended gasp as he lifts her. Even more unsettlingly, her lips pout into a moue of girlish startlement: even as she's smashed bodily into the counter with a groan of wood and a complaint of bone.
Bottles and glasses shatter, scattering across the bar counter with a deceptively cheerful tinkling of glass. Shallow cuts carve into her back, flying glass scoring the cloth sheathing her arms. In the brief pause directly after impact, she is limp and still: and then the woman comes alive in his arms again, cracking her neck grotesquely.
"Forward, aren't you?" Her voice is low and amused, coiling in the scant space between them: her parted lips curve in a mad smile that bares white teeth. "At least take a girl to dinner first."
The next instant, she's lashed out with both her legs, seeking to hook them right -around- Clark. If she can pinion him securely enough, she'll simply flex her body hard: utilizing her unnatural strength in an attempt to throw him straight over her, and into the back of the bar directly behind her.
COMBATSYS: Clark interrupts Strong Throw from Vice with Super Argentine Backbreaker.
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Clark 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Vice
"Sorry," Clark begins, noting the mad smile, and the sudden sweep of legs, "I don't date psychotics."
Which, apparently, is fine by Vice, seeing as how she's trying to break his back with her legs or something else horrific like that. Clark, however, has quite a bit of experience in this field -- the whole backbreaker/throwing field, at least, not the really goddamn crazy one. Thus, as he legs snap around him, his hands snap out, grip her by the shoulders--
"HUP!!"
--and launches her right into the air.
There is a slight, unpleasant -snap- as Vice is ripped off and away from Clark, but she isn't able to complete her own grapple before she's airborne. Intense eyes look upwards through his shades as Clark bears witness to Vice's downward descent, positioning himself in such a way that, when she lands? She lands spine-first, RIGHT on his impossibly hard skull with little more than a sickening crack, right before Steel grasps her by leg and shoulder to simply chuck her off to the side.
"... Nice try, though."
That coiling, seductive amusement is gone in an instant the moment Clark thwarts her attempted throw. That facade of emotion now useless, she discards it entirely in a petulant and childlike rage: ripping off the playful mask to once again bare the psychosis that had always lurked beneath. The small amount of pain she's able to inflict on him before he rips her away is paltry consolation to her enraged mind; and when she lands with a horrible crack of the spine, she howls more in pure fury than in pain.
Certainly the pain is there. Vice is not so inhuman as not to feel such things. It's just that the anger eclipses it.
Ignoring the sickening wrench in her back, Vice twists in the air as she's thrown: likely causing herself additional damage, but not caring as long as she can land on her feet. Skidding to a halt amidst the ruins of a few chairs, she pauses only a second before she lunges forward again: reckless and wild in her attempt to simply get ahold of him, lift him, and smash him into the nearest unyielding, hard object. It seems caution and premeditation do not exist in Vice's vocabulary... even if certain other unsavory words-- "Fucking bastard, I'll fucking kill you!" -- apparently do.
The insanity is not about to get less. Oh no, by some accounts, it's about to get much worse.
Clark's squadron did not move unseen by all eyes. Although Rugal likely had enough awareness to place Vice here on suspicion, it was Schugerg who -- using the pair's combined resources where the Ikari are concerned -- dissected the impossibly minute clues personally, thirsting for the chance at striking his enemies. Studied them. Analyzed them. And through a quick series of investigations managed to confirm that an assault was almost certain to take place. This was not given to Rugal due to the short time; Scarcely enough to assemble men and travel to the location in question. Mayhaps were it Heidern he'd of taken more open risks, but his belief was that it would be only grunts. As binoculars settled on Clark exiting the vehicle? He regrets this decision. An ambush capable of butchering him like a dog could of been managed... But no regrets. Such is the price of preferred independence, and he has little intent of allowing R' sole opportunity to carve the Ikari dogs to pieces regardless. In a whisper his own commando team surges forward, descending from the top of the building on ziplines and crossing the street.
The sounds of fighting inside are rather violent. It seems Rugal did not shirk this meeting in terms of resources either, if only a precaution. A few hand signs are offered, mirror flashing inwards to show the desecrated bar and two writhing figures. Then in a burst of motion, seven figures in yellow with crimson berets flash within, headed by Rolento himself. Steel flashes as they all draw blades, but the majority ignore Clark and Vice -- they would be wheat beneath the thresher. They instead move towards the stairs, intending to descend and engage Clark's own squadron.
"Clark Steel!!" Rolento snarls, unsheathing a knife almost violently and twirling it around. "Your chances of survival have become nil!" Of course, this is under the probably improper assumption that Vice is an ally. She doubtlessly knows that Rolento has a huge deal with Rugal, and is affiliated in the shadows... but does she care? That, ladies and gentlemen, is the true question. But the lithe elder fighter leaps up, snapping out his weapon. It shoots out with the speed of a bullet, attempting to impact Clark within the thigh. He lands thereafter upon a table in a crouch, quickly yanking out his baton.
This building isn't going to survive the next ten minutes.
COMBATSYS: Rolento has joined the fight here.
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Clark 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Vice
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Rolento 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Clark endures Vice's Misanthrope.
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Clark 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Vice
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Rolento 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Clark blocks Rolento's Stinger.
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Clark 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Vice
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Rolento 0/-------/-------|
A door flies open, a haze of cigarette smoke blowing out into the embattled room, and a joking, mirthful voice rolls out.
"Yeah, and then after I fucked your sister, I combed some of that nasty mayonnaise she keeps slathered in her hair and slapped it on your wife's /and/ your mom's ass! Yeah, baby, that's how I roll!" An empty bottle flies end-over-end into the room. "Missed me, lardlumps! Eat another couple hams, maybe you can start slingshotting it out of your gravitational field!"
Who else /could/ it be but Alan R. B., here to keep an extra eye on the proceedings, because little makes sure a deal goes smoothly like a psychopath and a man who actually sweats electricity. His shades are off and he's wearing just jeans and a tight blue tanktop - electricity crackling over every inch of his exposed skin - and he has the lean muscle of a man who doesn't need to rely on pure physical force to do some damage. He backs into the room completely ignorant of the giant ruckus going on, only noticing it when he turns, a cocky smirk on his face. The smirk stays, but his eyes widen as he sees commandos and terrorists all over the place.
"What?"
COMBATSYS: Alan has joined the fight here.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|=======\-------\1 Vice
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Clark 1/-------/=======|-------\-------\0 Rolento
Well.
Everything is just kind of going to hell -now-, isn't it?
Clark had planned on something straightforward. He wasn't anticipated -Rolento- of all people to be here... but he probably should have. It's not something that really registers in his mind at all, though, as he is otherwise preoccupied with bending Vice's spine over his head. With a toss, he thrusts her -away- from him, letting her bounce across the ground and come to a skidding halt with that sudden declaration of imminent pain. Clark's response is ultimately simple; his intention, such as it is, is to just take in the whole of her next attack and reciprocate in kind...
... but that's when he notices the glint of metal streaming through the air, with aim for his leg.
"Rolento--!?"
It all happens in an instant. Clark's gloved hand sweeps outward, -smacking- that weapon out of the air with the light spray of blood before it can do any real damage...
... just in time to get gripped and SMASHED into a table. It's in this instant, though, that Steel develops something of a half-assed, impromptu plan. As Vice grips onto him, he takes note of Rolento's figure, and Alan's appearance, and then... a light bulb goes off in his head. "... huh." Wincing in pain as he's thrust to the side, he seeks to simultaneously grip onto Vice's shoulders, his lower body reeling up against the table. "Rolento's trying to take your fight from you, Vice. You going to let him boss you around...?" And to emphasize this question, Clark seeks to lash out and STOMP his feet into Vice's abdomen, with enough force to send her flying.... right towards Rolento. "HMPH!!"
COMBATSYS: Clark successfully hits Vice with Combo Throw.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|=======\===----\1 Vice
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Clark 1/------=/=======|-------\-------\0 Rolento
That's the problem with grappling. You always get yourself a little bit too close to your opponent...
...which sucks if he's apparently just as good at throws as you are.
Vice isn't given a chance to get clear of Clark before he's seized ahold of her. However, his aim doesn't seem to be to directly fight her anymore, as evidenced by what he tells her right before he kicks her-- /hard/-- straight towards Rolento: who Vice doesn't even recognize, so maddened she is at this point.
In fact, all she really registers at this point is 'take your fight from you.' And that pisses her off. HOW DARE HE.
Too furious to properly think through her actions (if ever she really DOES think them through), she lashes out immediately at the closest current object of her fury. Which just happens to be Rolento. Her nails rake out like claws, directly at his face.
COMBATSYS: Rolento parries Vice's Death Blow!
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Alan 0/-------/-------|=======\====---\1 Vice
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Clark 1/------=/=======|=------\-------\0 Rolento
"Get out of my way!!" Rolento snarls towards Vice, as she hurtles towards him. One of his booted feet snap out, catching her in the face mid-air and blinding her attempted grope, which only finds air. And then he literally uses her as a stepping stone while she's still airborne, snapping his leg downwards and causing the hapless Orochi-infused secretary to crash into the table he was just perched on in quite a tumble. In fighter terms, it's harmless; But in annoyance? Oh, she's probably pissed off. That single minded hatred of Clark is going to earn him more ire then he would care for. Alan remains entirely ignored, his presence not even registered, as the newfound inertia of the woman is utilized to flip forward in a tight ball. And at the apex of his lunge, a grenade is yanked from his harness, and lashes out towards Clark. A meter from impact it detonates in a huge wash of flame, sending shrapnel all over and peppering the ceiling and walls. Rolento again lands, narrowing his eyes towards Clark Steel. His gambit might of worked to turn the woman against him, but whether he can still evade being pummeled to death remains likely at the forefront...
Alan R. B.'s mind catches up to the events around him after a bit. He stepped out for a drink and to shoot the shit with Comrade Chubbs, a 'friend' of his, and came back in to see that Ikari Clark Steele had appeared, and a terrorist guy or something whom he can't place. It doesn't take long for Alan to take action, hands whipping down to his belt, fingers threading through iron rings, fists lifted and crackling. He immediately pivots to his right.
Alan's fist stabs out, leaving a sizzling trail of electricity behind it, cracking across the jaw of one of the few people running around like a chicken with his head cut off. "Oh, damn, I thought you were someone else." The 'R' grunt he just thwapped staggers against the wall and collapses, eyes rolling to follow the stars swimming through his vision. "But whatever, you owe me like fifty bucks anyway!" He pivots back to the left, going for the nearest person to him.
Rolento Schugerg suddenly gets a faceful of electric boxer. "Hey man, nice eyes, is that some kind of condition? Maybe I can HELP you with that!" On 'help', Alan whips his right hand across right at the older man's cheekbone, with either an impact of thunder or a whiff of thunder. He immediately takes a few steps back, moving a bit faster than someone should be able to, fists in front of his face, eyes darting around. Looks like he's getting more used to fighting in a ridiculous melee.
COMBATSYS: Rolento successfully hits Clark with Grenadier EX.
- Power hit! -
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Alan 0/-------/-------|=======\====---\1 Vice
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Clark 1/-======/=======|==-----\-------\0 Rolento
In an instant, Clark Steel is reminded of how much he dislikes Rolento. Always trying to blow up people's shirts.
What a pervert.
Once more, Rolento launches himself at Clark with those infamous grenades that somehow manage to hurt more than a normal grenade would. He'll have to figure out one day. Regardless, as Schugerg comes at Steel, all Clark can do is think of just how much further Rolento blatantly ignoring Vice and -- not only -that- -- order her around while trying to steal her prey will upset the woman. Not only that, it seems the newest entry to what is now just a hellacious beatdown has turned his attention towards the commando as well. Good. Of course...
... that doesn't help the fact that Clark has just been blown up by a grenade. The impact of fire, schrapnel and force is enough to launch the man STRAIGHT off his feet, propelling backwards in a most unpleasant fashoin before he SLAMS into the ground, dizzied and shaking his head. Slowly coming to a stand, he observes all those around him... and then brings his focus on Rolento in particular. Hopefully, the combination of Alan and Vice will be enough to deter the man while Clark thinks of a plan. He just needs a little more time...
COMBATSYS: Clark focuses on his next action.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|=======\====---\1 Vice
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Clark 1/-======/=======|==-----\-------\0 Rolento
Okay. Vice's mood. Before? Seething fury. After? Oh, there's no describing the range and breadth of things she'd like to do to Rolento. Rest assured all of them are rated R: and they're not even the good kind of R.
Kicked right out the air in the midst of her blind, swiping attack, the sound that rips out of Vice's throat as she skids to a crashing halt on the table top is nearly a literal roar. Clark is completely forgotten, as per the Ikari's plan: Rolento's actions have catapulted him straight to the top of the hate list, landing him solidly at the head of the threat meter.
Vice has locked on, for better or worse, and she'll stay locked on up until she's knocked out. Or up until someone manages to piss her off even more than Rolento, anyway.
Right in the wake of Alan's strike, Vice has lunged directly for Rolento again: displaying the kind of mindless persistence characteristic of rabid beasts. Her hands snake out in a rapid attempt to seize ahold of him, and if she can get a grip-- she's exerting her considerable strength to throw him straight into the nearest wall.
COMBATSYS: Rolento dodges Alan's Hook Punch.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|=======\====---\1 Vice
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Clark 1/-======/=======|==-----\-------\0 Rolento
COMBATSYS: Rolento endures Vice's Quick Throw.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|=======\====---\1 Vice
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Clark 1/-======/=======|====---\-------\0 Rolento
"Insect!" is snorted towards Alan, as his attempt to punch doesn't even come within a mile of grazing Rolento. Within the realm of his peers, his footwork and speed is supernatural; Enough mayhaps to appear like teleportation, or at least a blur. But to those seasoned white eyes, he is little more then a snail, whom broadcasts his every motion far in advance. Yet that leaves Vice, whom grips him with a rather vicious relish. Yet he embraces it, hurled towards the wall with incredible force. And whirls around in the motion, to land upon it in a crouch. Hard hard enough to crack it, and cause a wince to pierce through his old joints, but with a snarl he pushes off. And again he is flipping forward in a tight ball, intent on finishing at least one aspect of the fight; Clark. Unfurling nearby, one leg shoots out in an attempt to strike him across the jaw with his heel, and send him flying backwards hopefully out of the fight. "HNNGH!" leaves his lips, with full intent to snake away thereafter and out of the range of reciprocation. Dealing with R' comes second. Dealing with Clark comes first.
Most boxers don't roll out of the way of things. Alan R. B. has learned not to be like most boxers. The main clue is Vice's total crazy bitch scream - wanting no part of what's coming right after that, Alan drops and rolls to the side, which cuts off his punch a little early and SERVES TO JUSTIFY ROLENTO DODGING SO HANDILY >:|
He pops back to his feet, electricity already crackling around his right hand as his eyes track the ex-Mad Gear. "Oh, what, did you think I was trying just there? Sorry, I reflexively hold back against people with bad hats." He pulls up that right hand, a small ball of chi gathering between his thumb and middle finger. "Now the question you gotta ask, am I taking this seriously yet? Report your findings!"
His right hand flicks down and across, fingers a'snapping. A bolt of lightning jumps from his hand to Rolento, searing through the air and filling the cramped basement with the stink of ozone. "Strike!" But that's not enough for Alan - he steps forward once after that, pulling his hand back up and to the side. "Twice!" Sure enough, another bolt of yellow chi leaps across the air.
COMBATSYS: Rolento successfully hits Clark with Mekong Delta.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|=======\====---\1 Vice
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Clark 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|======-\-------\0 Rolento
Well, apparently two people swarming over Rolento just isn't enough to deter the man's focus. It doesn't matter to Clark. It still gives him enough time to take care of his exit strategy. "Unit 1, fall back now. Provide cover fire. We're getting out of here." As he speaks, the sounds of gunfire can still be heard from down below, shouts ringing through the building and only barely deafened by the clash occuring here. Those sounds begin to grow closer, grow louder, however, as Rolento barrels through Vice and Alan... and heads straight for Clark.
There's really not much that the Ikari can do in this situation. So, his end decision is fairly simple: he runs INTO the assault, only to be preemptively stopped by a boot to his jawline. There is a sickening crack there, blood flying out from Clark's mouth. It's enough to send him slamming into the wall with spiderline cracks, rubble falling down from all around him. But he's unusually quick to push himself -off- that wall, rushing towards Rolento with intent to grip him by the shoulders. If successful? He'll launched the other man STRAIGHT into the air, letting him twist as Clark positions himself just underneath him. Rolento will land, back-first, against Clark's awaiting head with a sickening sort of -CRACK-, before Steel simply launches him into the air again, silent and serious, letting Rolento land, once more, on his skull, bending unnaturally... before Steel performs the technique -one- last time, thrusting Rolento into the air, SNAPPING his back over the mercenary's skull, before dropping down and DRIVING Rolento onto his knee. After that? He'll just toss him to the side, and start to stagger off. His escape plan should be here soon enough...
COMBATSYS: Clark can no longer fight.
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Vice 1/--=====/=======|-------\-------\0 Alan
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Rolento 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: Rolento has left the fight here.
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Vice 1/--=====/=======|-------\-------\0 Alan
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Rolento 0/-------/-======|
Skidding to a halt after the exertion involved in hurling Rolento away, Vice drops into a low and bracing crouch: teeth slightly bared in the thwarted, waiting pant of a predator forced to wait its turn to attack. The only reason she does not force her way directly into the fray is because she is literally unable to. She doesn't even notice Alan: which is probably all the better for the boy.
Prowling back and forth impatiently, now nearly furious enough to the point of deadly calm, she locks onto Rolento with a singleminded and bestial intensity: following his movements to the exclusion of all else. Let him kill that sunglasses-wearing freak. Just let him. She'll kill -him- once he's finished Clark off.
COMBATSYS: Vice focuses on her next action.
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Vice 1/--=====/=======|-------\-------\0 Alan
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Rolento 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Rolento with Lightning Strikes Twice.
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Vice 1/--=====/=======|=------\-------\0 Alan
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Rolento 1/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Rolento parries Clark's Ultra Argentine Backbreaker!
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Vice 1/--=====/=======|=------\-------\0 Alan
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Rolento 1/------=/=======|
Not many people can probably utterly faze out Alan from one's mind to this extent. Some static is coming from his general direction but the former mercenaries' attention is squarely upon Clark. However, his men are likely caught within the vicious engagement of his own men, who are specially equipped with anti-Ikari artillery. Sharp knives. Regardless of such, this dropped guard ends in him being struck by the bolt of lightning in the shoulder, causing a mild stagger. The second also hits, sizzling lightly and causing narrowed eyes to shift in his direction. Before returning to Clark as he rushes forward, and a mild grin leaves his lips. The desired outcome is nil. Rolento simply rolls away in a tight ball, completely out of range. "Hmmph. Laughable. Your commander alone cannot fell me, Clark Steel. Even with your pathetic gambit...!" Of course, there's the issue of Vice and Alan continuing hostilities. "Cease immediately!" is snarled, as he lunges suddenly forward, crossing the distance in a heartbeat. He wrenches back his arm and flashes out his baton, sweeping it towards Vice's stomach and attempting to double her over. Words alone won't make her stop and listen, after all. "Rugal Bernstein will pay a king's ransom..." Another vicious swing of the rotating baton is done, trying to strike Vice within the face. "...If you capture that man alive...!!" And a final strike, to send her against the wall. "All of Ikari will be drawn like flies to save him!! Cease your hostilities!!" ...Starting now, apparently!
Electricity is discharged from Alan's arm in a short wave as he flicks his hand, rolling his shoulder. "Man, you're one dramatic son of a bitch, aren't you?" Alan continues to keep his distance from Rolento, circling around to pin him between himself and Vice. "You know, I wasn't even listening to all of that, but I think I got the tone down."
The blonde boxer comes in then, aiming a jab at Rolento's kidney. Still moving with quick strikes, he darts around to his side to swing at the side of his ribs. "So first, you've got the eye thing. Then a terrible hat. And now listen to you, you're like a bad play! Who the hell are you?"
Alan backs away after that, tightening his iron rings. It looks like he might, any second... POWER UP?
Never underestimate the Ikari. Anti-Ikari weapons or no, sharp knives or no...
... they always come prepared.
Several of the men are down by this point, but by now, so are several of Rolento's and those individuals associated with 'R' down below. There's still enough of them -- more than enough -- to make a hasty retreat. And as Clark finds his attack has missed, the fight drains out of him, tumbling and collapsing some feet from Rolento himself. But even so? He smiles, slowly, looking up towards Rolento with bloodied lips.
"Sorry," he apologizes in advance.
"...but I'm not going to get caught by a has-been."
As soona s Clark says this, the door to the basement bursts open. Almost immediately, the Ikari men pour out. One rushes towards Clark, lifting him up. And as he does... something drops down from his hand. A metallic clank is heard as it strikes the ground, rolling forward. By the time it rolls up towards the trio still here, it should be readily apparent what it is. A grenade. Or more specifically...
-BAM-!
... a flashbang.
The thing detonates in a nigh-deafening, blinding explosion of light and sound, harmless save for the effects it has on sight and hearing. The intent is clear; a distraction for the trio and Rolento's men as Clark and his subordinates take a hasty retreat towards that van, intent on boarding it and, well -- making a speedy getaway. They are efficient and quick, and one thing is for certain -- Clark isn't going to let himself be captured by Rolento. Odds are? Even with the flashbang, he'll be too busy dealing with the raging psychotic and her sidekick. Which is good.
Clark doesn't want to be molested by a perverse old man, after all.
COMBATSYS: Vice interrupts Patriot Circle EX from Rolento with Withering Surface.
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Vice 0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0 Alan
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rolento 1/---====/=======|
Mad beyond reasoning, enraged beyond logic, at this point only Mature-- or Rugal himself-- could have dragged Vice back and forced her to listen to reason: or at least, forced her to follow a plan. But Rolento? He's done enough to piss her off, by this point, that she's essentially deaf to anything he might have to say to her.
Anything, that is, except the name 'Rugal Bernstein.' Though it doesn't quite have the effect desired. Hearing that name out of Rolento is pretty much the last straw for whatever scrap of sanity Vice had left.
"Who are you to say that name?!" she shrieks in fury, complete insanity marring her gaze. That short howl is the only warning before she vaults forward like a pouncing animal, plowing straight into Rolento's attack and forcing the baton aside via her sheer momentum; seeking to sink her hands-- clawlike-- into Rolento and repeatedly smash him against the floor-- the tables-- whatever hard and unyielding surface she can find. Unremittingly berserk, it's only her unnatural strength and constitution that keeps her from ripping her own muscles from the strain.
Yeah, she'll pay for the loss of control later. But she simply doesn't think far enough ahead to care.
COMBATSYS: Rolento dodges Alan's Jab Punch.
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Vice 0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0 Alan
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rolento 1/---====/=======|
There's a sort of weave away from Alan, without any more difficulty then his surprise assault. He's sort of a random danger here; He might do something tricky enough to land a blow, but it's not very likely. Vice is the sheer danger, and proves that resoundingly as she manages to grip him amidst his assault, and he finds himself utterly disoriented in the roller coaster ride of being a brandished weapon against the surrounding architecture. He's remarkably good as a blunt object, shattering a table, sending a bar stool flying, denting the wall, and cracking the counter, before finally slipping free as the world erupts into light and smoke. Coughing, Rolento pushes himself up, looking as the last of Clark's men escape. He's too wounded to bolt out, and the van can already be heard peeling away. But he has a helicopter nearby. They can easily track down and destroy it. He... No!! His radio is shattered, disbelievingly looked at when pulled from his vest. "HRRRAUGH!!" The useless hunk of debris is hurled away, Rolento slipping up and appearing to almost rival Vice now in her sheer insanity. "YOUR IDIOCY HAS COST ME THE APPREHENSION OF MY TARGET!!" He then /hurls/ himself towards Vice, attempting to grasp her by the front of her shirt rather lewdly and wrench around, to fling her towards a wall. Rugal will have to deal with a severely beaten pair of minions, if Rolento's rage has any say in the matter!
Alan hates fighting someone who is content to ignore him and just dance all over the place. It doesn't get him /angry/ - nobody really knows what even could - but it does cut the edge of his humor. It bugs him even more when someone's popping all over the place like Rolento is - he's the fast guy, that's supposed to be his job. Frowning, Alan hops a few steps back, hands open at his sides, electricity gathering.
Rolento doesn't get any more sass, without any reaction, he has nothing to go off. Eventually he'll see a hilarious opening and be on Rolento like proverbial lightning, but that'll have to wait. He goes through his options and determines that the best course of action is to just press the assault, instead of backing off and letting go of his control. Alan R. B. does a little shadowboxing, and then... moves.
Taking an attack really seriously for the first time, he cuts right in front of Rolento, electric fists pumping. "Try some of this!" He's moving fast, crazy fast, leaving after-images of electricity behind him, making him hard to pin down. Jab, jab, hook, jab, straight, body blow, jab, uppercut, hook... a spray of textbook punches from seemingly all directions at once.
COMBATSYS: Vice dodges Rolento's Medium Throw.
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Vice 0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0 Alan
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rolento 1/----===/=======|
Vice doesn't give a shit about Rolento's objectives. As far as she's concerned now, he's merely an asshole who showed up, tried to poach her kill, hit her a couple times, and insulted her quite thoroughly. Crazy though Vice may be, she's still a woman: and there are few things more frightening than a scorned woman.
She mirrors Rolento's mad temper wildly, incoherent in her fury, actually surging -forward- towards Rolento's attempt to seize her with the quick and fleeting movements of an animal. At the last moment she weaves beneath his grasp like a snake, still barreling straight ahead at high speed: her aim to impact a shoulder with the man's chest, seize ahold of him with her opposite hand, and twist around to throw him over her shoulder with a rapid twist.
COMBATSYS: Rolento dodges Alan's Storm Front.
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Vice 0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0 Alan
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rolento 1/----===/=======|
COMBATSYS: Rolento parries Vice's Quick Throw!
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0 Alan
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rolento 1/---====/=======|
Rolento is still glaring towards Vice, as Alan seems intent to try and capture his attention. As he manifests in front of him, the whirlwind and flurry of punches is done into empty air, as the man has literally sideflipped over him, abandoning the place he was a second earlier. It seems he truly is outclassed in this situation, having only landed the single blow that appears to have irritated more then anything else. Still not any actual words or attention beyond that glare. He's angry at Vice!! She broke his radio, after all! His lucky one! As she lurches forward, he moves as well, just a bit faster. Vaulting himself backwards, just beyond the reach of her attentive hands, he is suddenly coiled into a ball... which vaults itself forward with a snarl, attempting to impact itself into the Orochi girl right upon her chest. And rebound in a frenzy, in a good imitation of Blanka, hopefully sending her flying backwards for her trouble!
COMBATSYS: Vice endures Rolento's Mekong Delta EX.
[ \\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////////// ]
Vice 1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Alan
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rolento 1/--=====/=======|
Starting to feel the pull of exhaustion from constant exertion and her heightened emotional state alike, Vice isn't able to stop her forward momentum in time to avoid Rolento's blow: and as such, she simply grits her teeth and takes it. Skidding to a stop and immediately bracing the instant she seems him coil up to launch forwards at her, she's thus somewhat prepared for the blow when it comes.
It sends her flying back, but she manages to twist in the air to get her feet back under her. The moment she's got enough of a foothold, she's leaping back towards Rolento even as he vaults away. Ignoring the complaint of her body, she lunges forwards for the man, seeking to sink a hand into his collar; if she can get ahold of him, she'll slam him facefirst into the ground and literally wipe the floor with him for a short distance, before finally slinging him clear.
Alan stops his spray of punches the moment Rolento gets out of the way of it, though he's still moving with that ridiculous speed for a while as he hops away, even springing off the wall to get a better view of the fight. This just isn't going well for him, so it's time to take a different approach.
His eyes sharpen as he takes quick stock of the room. Most people are gone, but there's... yes, there's one person who managed to wander down here and has no idea what's going on. The boxer spins down into a kneel, right hand whipping out to smack into the table. The table smacks into the confused panicked guy, and the confused panicked guy gets knocked right into Rolento, hopefully catching him in a tangle of meat and skin. Go lateral thinking!
COMBATSYS: Alan assists Vice.
[ \\\\\ < > /////////////////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/-======|=------\-------\0 Alan
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rolento 1/--=====/=======|
COMBATSYS: Vice successfully hits Rolento with Gore Fest.
[ \\\\\ < > /////////////////////////// ]
Vice 1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Alan
[ \\\\\\\ <
Rolento 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|
The maneuver succeeds as desired, Rolento attempting to shift away but snared for his troubles; And then he finds himself intimately sandpapering the floor and hurled away, crashing into a table and shattering it to motes. He lands upon a shoulder, rolling away with a hack and cough. He's in dire straights, but so is Vice... And there's only one way to deal with that. The person stumbling towards him is backhanded with the baton, the crack of breaking jaw easily heard as the limp, bleeding civilian hits the ground. Slowly the commando rises, eyes narrowed. "Enough. Rugal shall have to deal with you more injured then I anticipated." He then suddenly shoots out his baton, and yanks out a veritable sea of knives. They are all held by the hilt, and in tandem balanced upon the very end of his weapon. "...Ready?" is asked towards the other girl. Unlike Vice, Rolento can calm down and plan if he needs to. And plan he does! "GO!" With that he /shoots/ up his baton. The knives shoot at an angle towards the ceiling. All of them ricochet perfectly. And a literal wall of blades descends, attempting to hit Vice and pin her like a stuck pig to the ground...
COMBATSYS: Rolento successfully hits Vice with Steel Rain.
[ < > /////////////////////////// ]
Vice 1/---====/=======|=------\-------\0 Alan
[ \\\\\\ <
Rolento 1/-------/=======|
Exhaustion tends to hit Vice hard, crashing in like a wave in the wake of her furious rages. It shackles her down now, when earlier she would simply have vaulted clear. The mad hatred is still raw and ugly in her dark eyes as they fix upon Rolento: but it is not sufficient to move her body in time to avoid the scything mess of knives.
She is pierced through in multiple places, struck so many times the mere trauma would have killed any average, run-of-the-mill human. But though by the end of it she's wading in a pool of her own blood, she's still moving; pouncing forwards in a frontflip and exerting the last of her strength in an attempt to lace her ankles about Rolento's neck. Should she manage that snare, she'll vault forcibly backwards again, throwing him bodily by that grip.
She would normally have landed on her feet after such a move, unlocking her ankles from about her victim's throat and settling with the lightness of a cat. Now, however, she lands on her hands and knees in blood: and after a moment, sinks into the quiescence of unconsciousness.
COMBATSYS: Vice can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Alan 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\1 Rolento
COMBATSYS: Rolento dodges Vice's Negative Gain.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Alan 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\1 Rolento
Alan appears supremely unconcerned when Vice finally succumbs, slowly coming back to his feet and smirking at Rolento. Really, it could be Ryu or possibly Athena over there and he would stay completely unworried. He's completely retarded like that.
So when Alan's arms drop to his sides and his body relaxes, anyone who knew him wouldn't even think about the fact that he's dropping his guard against such a superior opponent, because it's exactly what you'd expect from him. A slow grin spreads across his face. "So, finally ready to get the real fight going?"
Alan's control over the electric chi constantly flowing through his body gets the leash slipped off, and a corona of crackling power builds up. Small shockwaves spread out from his feet, and that lightning bolt in his hair dances jerkily.
COMBATSYS: Alan gathers his will.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Alan 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1 Rolento
So wounded, so tired, and bleeding so profusely, it's hardly surprising that Rolento manages to backflip himself away from the attempt, and land in a crouch once more. He slowly rises, breathing heavily before turning to observe Alan, noticing him fully for the first time in this engagement. Shoulders roll, the tension begins to dull, as he allows Vice the luxury of writhing like a stuck fish before passing out. This has been a difficult engagement to say the least, but there's one last portion to do. He's wounded, he's slow, his movements riddled with pain and a haze of darkness. "Your combative abilities and talent are commendable, but only upon a tier far below my own. My tactical analysis and reflex is beyond the peak of your capability to move. However, circumstance dictates that given you only need to strike me once, success is minimal." He slides his feet apart, redoubling the grip upon his baton. "...Still, I shall not retreat!!" Oh, it's on. Even if he's almost doubtlessly going to lose in the end. He'll make Alan enjoy his victory in a full-body cast!
COMBATSYS: Rolento gains composure.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Alan 0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0 Rolento
Usually people don't let Alan build a good head of steam when he does that charge - the apparent drop of guard does a lot to draw people in. When it doesn't happen, well, he doesn't really care. The boxer stretches out his arms, comes up into his stance, and then... flickers.
Alan appears to have stopped, but Rolento will probably spot a trail of electricity arcing around to his baton side - no fancy teleportation, Alan R. B. is just that fast when he gets to moving. The afterimage collapses into formless electricity just as Alan blurs back into existence, iron rings leading toward Rolento's head.
"Remember what I said about you sounding like a bad play? You sure aren't disappointing on that front!"
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Rolento with Medium Punch.
Glancing Blow
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Alan 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\0 Rolento
Indeed, this time the afterimage does catch Rolento off-guard. It only takes him a fraction of a second to figure out the reality of the feint and leap backwards, but that's enough to graze him with a fist. The discharge into his body is significant, inciting a mild grunt as he skids a few meters backwards, knocking aside the remnants of a table. Sneering openly, Rolento reaches into his vest and pulls out a grenade. "An insignificant pest such as yourself will not require full ordinance. I shall test you!!" And with that, Rolento hurls the small bomb. Which explodes with a lout PAFT, not unlike the grenade earlier but significantly more sluggish and less condensed. But he's trying to predict exactly where Alan will go... Which might make it far more dangerous to him then he might expect, as it's beyond simple tossing.
COMBATSYS: Alan dodges Rolento's Large Thrown Object.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Alan 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\0 Rolento
Alan hops away when the grenade comes at him, hand whipping around to smack it further away even as he also moves to the right. It should be pretty clear by now that speed is definitely something Alan relies on, unlike most examples of boxing talent. "What was that, a party favor?"
Sneering, the blonde suddenly lunges in close to Rolento, dropping down almost to a knee, electricity surging around his right hand like a maelstrom. He doesn't even appear to move through the intervening space, going from the crouch to the end of an uppercut, slamming his fist hard enough to lift himself in the air. His momentum carries him backward a few feet, remaining just inside his own reach.
COMBATSYS: Rolento dodges Alan's Uppercut Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Alan 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\0 Rolento
Ah. That made the maneuver rather significant. At least, were Rolento any less of a fighter. He tenses, and then hurls himself backwards in a rather magnificent backflip, clearing it and landing upon the bar, sliding off some drinks that somehow survived relatively intact. He then lunges to the side, blurring significantly to such an extent afterimages seem to trail behind. "Hmmhmmhmm!" is mused to himself, trying to shoot behind Alan before snapping out to grasp him by the front of his vest. "You invested significant effort into that laughable assault!!" Were it to manage, he'd move to hurl Alan towards a wall, with all the care of a drunken wifebeater in the midst of too much vodka. "Can you hit me one more time to end this battle?!" It sounds like a genuine question, as opposed to something to goad or insult...
COMBATSYS: Alan blocks Rolento's Medium Throw.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Alan 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Rolento
Rolento gets a good healthy handful of TANKTOP, whipping him into the wall. He manages to tense up in time, one fist and one foot lashing hard into the rough wall of the basement, dust falling from the ceiling with the shaking impact. Rolento's own verbal barbs don't seem to find purchase on him as he disengages, electricity surging down both hands. "I could do one... but I'd rather try four!"
Both those hands come up, familiar orbs crackling into existence between his middle fingers and thumbs. "Thunder..." He snaps the fingers of both hands twice in a rapid left-right-left-right rhythm, each snap creating a blast of thunder and sending a huge bolt of yellow lightning jumping across the distance between the two fighters. "STORM!" The attack comes out in the space of an eyeblink.
COMBATSYS: Rolento blocks Alan's Thunder Storm.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Alan 0/-------/-------|=======\-------\1 Rolento
The onslaught of electricity isn't attempted to be dodged this time. That lesson was learned in the original encounter, and he merely throws up his forearms and braces himself. The surges conduit through him, but are more channeled then anything else. He's a good sponge for energy regardless of his inability to use such, and he almost blacks out even though he's left sizzling and smoking, not immediately sure whether he is still upright. No more time. No more games. "Enough... I shall... end this!!" He then suddenly shoots forward, skidding the last distance and crouching just in front of Alan. To whisper, almost intimately close, "Ready?" Before dropping a huge grenade between his legs, and rolling backwards. "FIRE!!" It detonates, which would only be followed by much like Alan four more! The end result hopefully sending him flying into a wall, and destroying anything left that might of escaped unscathed. Including Vice's unconscious body. She's probably going to have seen better days then being blackened and impaled upon a couple dozen knives.
COMBATSYS: Rolento successfully hits Alan with Mine Sweeper.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Alan 1/------=/=======|-------\-------\0 Rolento
Alan R. B. doesn't manage to get out of the way. His form is briefly lost in the explosions, but a muffled, pained "Shit!" gets through, speaking volumes about how it went for him. There's a long moment of nothing, when the smoke parts and expels the boxer, tanktop burned away to reveal a lean chest corded with a fighter's muscle, with clear definition but not exactly 'build'. There's a few flames on his jeans lingering, but they go out when he rolls forward, moving just barely past Rolento.
"Hey, don't stop now... you didn't end it yet, dramaboy!" Alan comes out of his roll unconventionally, booted feet slamming on the ground to propel him backwards. He lands, and then leaps to the left, crossing in front of Rolento and trying to keep him up on his toes. Only then does he dart in, slamming a crackling fist at Rolento's abdomen.
Join the Nintendo Fun Club today.
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Rolento with Light Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /// ]
Alan 1/------=/=======|=------\-------\0 Rolento
Ah. There's that last shot. Rolento's a tired old man at the moment, and the blow to his stomach wasn't exactly epic. He doesn't care for shocked loins in thirty percent of cases, this being one of them, as he stumbles backwards and teeters, that precarious balance of holding himself together now lost. Falling to a kneel, he breathes heavily, energy leeching away as his already sandbagged limbs now begin to fill instead with lead. "Hrrmph... Judgement... Grade D!!" No explanation this time. He's just spiteful. These two cost him Clark, and although he can't kill them, he... well, looking at Vice, he probably made a bigger point then he should have. But still he launches forward, coiling up his baton and attempting to wedge it in Alan's /own/ abdomen...
COMBATSYS: Rolento can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Alan 1/------=/=======|
COMBATSYS: Alan parries Rolento's Fatality Package!
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Alan 1/-----==/=======|
Nobody expects a boxer to use their feet. Alan usually doesn't, half the time, but every now and then he has these cuhRAYzy flashes of skill. They can be thought of as what Alan /could/ do if he ever started taking things truly and honestly seriously.
Alan's right leg comes up as Rolento launches forward like a train, and comes down solidly on the baton. "Extra credit." Leaving trails of sparks in the air, he kicks off the baton, pitching it down to the ground while simultaneously vaulting right past Rolento, twisting in the air to land still facing him, chi whirling around his relaxed right arm as he gets ready to use his Overcharge.
That will, of course, prove extraneous.
...Unexpected. Rolento stumbles forward as Alan hefts over him, towards his exposed back. But he whirls around fairly quickly for a man in his condition, but doesn't seem apt to remain any longer. "This battle... has concluded!!" Rolento's heel then stomps down, hitting one of the radios of his fallen men. A simple button that appears to trigger what he intended at the onset of Clark leaving; The sound of rockets flaring, and then the entire roof detonates, shattering inwards and burying Vice's knife-ridden scorched body under rubble. A large helicopter looms, kicking up a huge amount of wind. Ziplines descend, and the remaining two members of his team as well as the USPL soldier grasp them. "I may have underestimated you... But this interference will not go unpunished...!" is snarled, as the helicopter ascends quickly to leave Alan to whatever he wishes. Picking Vice's body out of the rubble and molesting it is the most likely outcome.
Alan's response is mostly an incredible appearance of being unconcerned with the falling rubble, stepping to dodge it here and there, only to finally throw out the Overcharge on the rubble covering Vice, punching the pile so hard that rocks totally fly /everywhere/. Pulling Vice out is done a bit more hesitantly, since you know.
She might wake up and rape him.
COMBATSYS: Alan has ended the fight here.
Log created on 16:40:28 08/14/2007 by Clark, and last modified on 02:56:55 08/15/2007.