Description: They have come together, in Southtown Harbor. And before them, a great ship has emerged from the depths. The flagship of the people, it is called. The "Suiryuu". But to earn the right to enter, they must first prove themselves. They have been given transport to different locations. And now the battle to become agents of Jinchuu has begun.
They will have come from all corners of the world. Some may have driven, some may have ridden. Some may have walked, some may have flew. It makes little difference. Every man and woman selected to become an agent of Jinchuu and accepted... will regardless have shown up here.
They have little other choice.
This is the only place where answers will avail themselves.
The assigned gathering place is designated by a rather audacious circle drawn on the planks, with mystic looking lines drawn across the docks and down the pilings. At first, the docks are simply quiet. It will be filled with little more than the questions and wonder of those gathered here, and perhaps more than a few insults thrown. It matters little.
All is revealed when Ryouhara himself appears. He doesn't appear in a burst of smoke, or any flashy ninja pyrotechnics, he doesn't cause the sky to bleed red, or the sea to boil.
No. Seishirou simply drops from the sky.
Landing a little unsteadily, with a whistle of extending gearwork, the ninja catches the wood planks beneath his feet with a cane of black wood and steel, his feet gathering beneath him.
He breathes outward.
Then, looking as grave as ever, he leans on that cane.
"... About as many as I expected.. Welcome to the Judgment."
Zach raises an eyebrow at the man's appearance. He wasn't certain what to expect, but that was not exactly it. He feels a slight burn in his palm, which he calms quickly. He glances around. Lot of people here. Some he might recognize, others he's never met before. he's sure that he'll get to know a lot of them before this is over...
There are no pyrotechnics or any flashy displays at this party, so there's no need for a big introduction for this fighter either. It's simply Kate Molina, better known on the circuit as 'Katelynn,' one of the best Shotokan Karate fighters on the circuit. She's not sure what to make of this, but she intends to find out, as it does sound interesting.
Approaching the docks, Katelynn is a little surprised to see all the fighters that have gathered here, thinking it wasn't that big of an event really. Apparently she was wrong, but the more there are, the merrier it will be.
Sada Asai rolls her eyes, one hand going to her hip as she stands there in front of the ninja man. She has what looks like an instrument case in her other hand, which is currently leaning against her thigh. She doesn't speak up, however, and looks back at Seishirou a moment after completing her act of meaningless disdain!
Most people here probably at least recognize Alan R. B. - he's certainly made a name for himself in Saturday Night Fight as a tremendous cock, a disrespecter of women, seniors, and children, and as a fairly decent hand in a fight. He was here before most, uncharacteristically silent, leaning against a post and smoking like a chimney. He's generated a small pile of butts next to him, so he's clearly been here for some time.
Leaning there in the dark, the electricity on his hands and face luminescing slightly along with the cherry point of the cigarette, he cuts an uncharacteristically sinister figure. The only reaction to Seishirou's appearance is his eyes opening, tracking him from the sky, barely seeming truly attentive.
He hasn't said anything yet. That's actually a little worrying.
Hinata seems completely out of place in the rough atmopshere surrounded by many of the rough sorts rounding the fighting circuit nowadays. She's dressed in a powder blue hoodie with a rabbit on the front of it wearing a fighter's headband and wearing a darker blue skirt that manages to reach her knees. It's kind of cold at the docks, and her mother always told her to dress warm when going to underworld fighting meets.
Sitting on the wooden planks of the docks and leaning up against his newly rebuilt Honda CBR750F Aero street bike, Ichiro Oe gives the mysterious invitation in his hands another curious glance. Shrugging and tucking the summons into his red and white leather motorcycle jacket, Ichiro pushes himself up to his feet and surveys the crowd neutrally. "Weird," he says simply as he runs his fingers through his short hair, spiked with gell. New to the fighting scene, Ichiro isn't really used to such intrigue, but the fledgling fighters fighting spirit must have made an impression on someone.
"What the..." he mutters as a man suddenly drops from the sky. A grin quickly spreading across the young man's face, Ichiro hefts the duffel bag over his shoulder and walks closer to the mysterious newcomer for a better look. This could be fun after all.
The journey here has been far longer for Nikolai Tippin then many present. His world has begun falling apart, becoming shattered, and the sole name, the only potential cause in all of his desperation, is the name Seishirou Ryouhara. His appearance was heralded by a sleek black car, driving within fifty yards of the assigned area to meet. Tinted windows hide the occupants, but a burly well-dressed pair of men slip out, one glancing around with dark shades, the other opening the back door. More or less rising out is a truly massive man, well into six feet with broad shoulders. A fedora is upon his head, and a tan trenchcoat draped like a cloak across his shoulders. He holds a well-wrought cane, used to aide the slightest of limps as he ambles towards the growing circle of people, both of his hired goons remaining by the vehicle.
Nikolai is plain, despite his strong presence, face too rugged, nose broken too many times. Most notable is the distinct lack of a left arm; This can be hard to notice given the overcoat, however. He shrugs his way to the very edge of the circle, forcedly making room regardless of who might be interposed.
"..." Eyes widen upon witnessing Seishirou make a public appearance, gripping the end of his cane so hard that knuckles are starkly white. Nothing is said, for all the desire to lunge forward and shake the youth viciously until he talks. He's ruthless, but patient... Even if the latter is drawn more and more thin as time goes by.
So.. She's supposed to show up. She didn't know why, or anything and frankly, she didn't care. The Red Witch, trying to avoid too much notice, especially by people she's pissed off. . a glance to Katelynn is followed by a wince and an attempt to hide in her hat. Not that she needs to worry, having used her broom to zip up on top of a few packing crates. Probably not the only person doing something like that, Naerose' reason was just to avoid notice while she listened to the meeting or gathering or whatever, as Elle said she should do.. So. . thats what she does, while eating a bag of chips. Crunch crunch crunch. . .Mmm. . ranch.
An old japanese man in a huge face covering straw coolie, a huge purple robe, and a large walking stick presents himself. He makes his way towards the circle drawn on the docks, hunched over and steadily shuffling forward. The cane taps against the wooden areas and the heavy steel. He seems to be blind, carefully tapping the cane against the wooden planks and pushing it back and forth to guide his way up to the docks. He is also humming a rather merry tune, holding the Jinchuu invitation in his other hand.
Aranha can't help but be in awe at the enormous gathering himself. It's a rare thing for him to see this many fighters gathered in one place. He's used to the street fights, hustling money here and there from small fight clubs, dingy alleys, and outskirts of cities and towns.
Truth be told, though, the knowledge that there are so many fighters gathered here is both slightly unnerving and exciting to the young traceur/capoeirista at the same time. While those emotions are felt at the core of his entire being, the capoeirista maintains an outer front of poise made possible by his talent at maintaining a good poker face. More impressive is his ability to maintain it in spite of the fact that he does manage to spy a red witch's hat, seeing as he is another of the people Naerose has pissed off.
For every ounce of curiosity presented, there is only hawkish intensity. For every millimeter of disdain, there is only clinical observation. For every pound of excitement, there is only chill method. Every face is noted. One in particular. Every person is catalogued. Every name is known to this Ryouhara ninja, and every name is matched with its face. This is not a tournament of random entries.
He knows exactly to which audience he preaches. So he'll be blunt and fast.
"Information is a precious commodity. Be thankful you've all been gathered here, there is no other method in which I will dispense this information," Seishirou begins, in that dark, dry tone. The implication needs no emphasis: So listen up.
The ninja will take a few steps towards all assembled.
"You all are gathered here because you are amongst the best of your kind. Every one of you able to defeat ten, maybe even twenty trained soldiers from any modern army. But just because you are amongst the best.. doesn't mean you are the best."
He shrugs once and simply, "No World Warrior champions stand here. Nor do any Kings of Fighters. Does that mean anything? That is something we will determine. You are here.. for one reason. Whether it be through curiosity, greed, vengeance, or drive. It's all the same. You want to fight. And here, you'll ... prove yourselves in a way none of the banal simpleton's tournaments will ever allow you to."
"'For the fighting proleteriat's legendary recompense...'" He recites, almost as elegantly as the term was first written.
"Heh.. cute words. In the end, what it means is simple. I will grant the ones who realize the top tiers of this event... value beyond compare. That is the prize. If it is not reason enough, you can leave now."
It's a simple movement - Alan pulls the butt of the cigarette from his mouth, digs out another, and lights it up. With electricity crackling from Alan's hands and face with every movement, reflecting off the buttons of his shirt, the iron rings in his belt, and his semi-transparent sunglasses, it ends up being a tiny lightshow flashing from the post he's taken up. He comes an inch from yelling out like he usually does, a well-crafted jab against the nonsense words that were on the invitation. But this isn't a place to be loud - crazy ninjas might lock him out of the tournament.
As far as Alan knows, there's potentially way too much money at stake to risk /that./
Sada looks at her fingernails for a moment during Seishirou's explanation, her eyes flicking over towards him during the mention of 'value beyond compare', looking through her bangs. "Heh," she says, before lowering the hand back to her side and straightening up. She doesn't get away, either.
OK, this is starting to sound more and more like one of those martial arts movies you watch either at three AM on classic movie channels on cable television, or one of the many modern day 'clones' (as Katelynn calls them, because they all emphasise action over reality, which is what Shotokan is nothing like,) that you see in theaters nowadays. But still, it's very intriguing to Katelynn, so she listens intently to what is being said. In fact, she's thinking that this is a lot better than the standard fare she gets in the fighting circuit.
A voice picks up out of the crowd, filled with energy and enthusiasm and coming across quite clear through the entire assembly. "Excuse me! Are there going to be any snacks or should we have brought our own?" Hinata stands there with a wide smile on her face as she waits for some sort of answer.
Seishirou will find that when his gaze finds Nikolai, it is harsh, cold, and with a steel resolve. But somehow it triggers him to relax, looking over those present in a sweeping and almost dismissive manner. Although far from his prime, he has no delusions of failure in this caliber. Years ago, they would of been chaff, but even with his lost arm and injured leg... 'Do you know this, Seishirou?' he almost attempts to send, snorting. 'Did you truly invite this many low-class nobodies?' But such is interrupted by Hinata's statement, earning a snarl. "Be silent, stupid girl!" His voice is so heavily russian accented it might be hard to understand. But it's apparent that Nikolai wishes for no interruptions.
Value beyond compare? Ichiro couldn't really care less about any sort of material prize that might entail. Having grown up with more money at his fingertips than he'd ever really need, the only son of a wealthy business man has learned to only truly value that which doesn't have a monetary value. Rather, as he adjusts the duffle and stands listening to the mysterious ninja, Ichiro's mind races with thoughts of competing in his first tournament; the chance to prove himself, that's the prize he's after. Casting a glance back at his motorcycle, Ichiro makes a note to send his father a text message, telling him to have someone pick up his ride after they leave to wherever the tournament will take place. He just got that thing fixed, afterall.
The blind old man waves his cane in the air as he moves towards the circle. He waggles it back and forth a few times. "Speak louder up there! Can't hear you in the back!" The coolie hatted man leans over towards Alan, still rather hunched over. He grasps the cane and presses it towards the ground, leaning his weight against it.
"You! Young lady." He addresses Alan in a crazy japanese old man voice. "What he say? Something about recompost. I don't want no compost!"
Vyle is here...but with all the people here, and the distinct lack of a fighting stage here....he feels that his trademark entrance is a bit wasted. So surprisingly, he's here, pretty lowkey. He's even dressed in mostly black for this occasion (though his jacket still has his trademark purple and green highlights). As Seishirou speak though, he snorts. "What's that mean?" he mutters to himself...before he hears the blind man further in the crowd shout. "..." Oh, if only he had a bottle or something to throw.....
The old man catches Alan's attention, which isn't all that hard. He slowly shifts in the relative darkness of the night to look over at him, and holds out his right hand, flicking his fingers as though getting rid of a pinched insect. A small little spray of sparks jumps effortlessly forward to harass him. "I'm American, you're supposed to be terrified of me. Go bug Captain Obscure Sport over there." He jabs a finger dismissively at Ichiro, and returns his attention to SEIIIISHIROUUUUUUU.
Of course, since it's not like Gedo High is very far away, it wasn't difficult for Tenma Kiryuu, and presumably a few of his fellows, to get here on time... Honest. But given the crowd of fighters, and the heavy mood that weighs over the whole affair - especially when Seishirou, who Tenma recognises as the 'Pervert Kidnapper Ninja', makes his appearance - the often loud and abrasive teen is actually pretty quiet too. Go figure. Maybe he, like Alan, might be without manners, but instead possess a keen sense of the dramatic.
Also, he's stuffing his face with a sandwich, which could also explain Tenma's relative silence.
Captain Obscure Sport? Ichiro thinks as he overhears Alan and the old man conversing. Is there another sports fighter here? Looking around with curiosity as the net of his lacrosse stick peaks over his shoulder from its resting place between the duffel bag and his back, Ichiro tries to identify this mysterious sportsman.
Aranha stays quiet through it all. The possibility of having enough money that he could provide for his sister without needing to resort to criminal means ever again. The fact that he gets to fight is just icing on the cake to him. Of course when people begin to speak up he just quietly shakes his head as he listens to some of the other fighter snapping at each other.
For his part the other fighters are blocked out aurally though he's at least paying attention to the physical situation around him. If things jump off, he wants to be ready.
The old man waggles his cane again in Alan's general direction. He doesn't see the motion, being OLD and BLIND. He holds up the cane, jabbing it in Alan's general direction. "I can't hear you over ugly! ho ho ho!" He lets out a good kooky laugh, waggling the cane again in his direction. "What he say, young man, or I tell you mother you mean to nice old man!"
Hinata turns around toward Nikolai as he shouts, waggling a finger at the substantially larger man as well as giving him a better opportunity to see her wonderfull cute sweatshirt, "Hey, there's no need to be all grumpy. In fact if you had some snacks in you and got your blood sugar up you'd probably be just fine. I mean you can't expect people to fight on empty stomachs, can you?" The wide smile grows a bit wider as she turns back around toward the main old man (not the blind one) and waits for the response to her perfectly valid question.
"It won't be easy. In the end, we are all weak in the grand scheme. None of us assembled have the strength of Kyo Kusanagi. None of us have the power of Ryu's Hadou. However.. in the end, power, strength... they will mean almost nothing in the face of Jinchuu. Here, the only thing that is going to help you is your mind. How you deal with what you are faced with will determine victory."
Ryouhara holds the gaze of Nikolai for only a moment--just enough to note what lay there. And in it, there is almost a grim satisfaction from the ninja.
Most importantly, who is that old guy in back? Seishirou doesn't recognize him immediately. This is.. a somewhat disturbing revelation. He blinks once. And ... recalls something, briefly.
With some mild difficulty, he continues, "That is why you were chosen. Only those who are accustomed to adversity will excel in this playing field."
He looks to one side, towards the open sea behind him. "That playing field is a ship that has been prepared specifically for this event. For those agents of Jinchuu who can and do excel, it will be their home for the duration of this event. It's only purpose is to realize and crown a victor. You can consider it the proleteriat's flagship."
"It is called Suiryuu. Watch closely."
With one tap, Seishirou drives his cane into the ground. It triggers a latent seal across the dock--that red circle that was once considered to be merely a convenient marker to designate where people should gather. Red energy snakes through the circle all are gathered in and around. It harms no one, it affects no one. But the energy snakes from that seal through and on down to the pilings. Into the water itself.
The water...
...moves.
A dense cloud of white swirls over the harbour, coming from somewhere out in the bay. But it isn't smoke. Or fog. There's something else, something felt, not seen - an overwhelming heat.
The massive cloud is /steam/. Steam so scaldingly hot that it distorts the air, rising from the surface of the water. A surface churning, boiling, writhing under hellish pressure.
The phenomenon spreads, the cloud fully engulfing the docks. Out at sea, there's chaos - the distant sounds of panic and confusion from the vessels moored in the harbor. Even on land, the steam comes to fill the air. It builds and builds, obscuring the water and sky.
There's something out there now. A great and dark shape, a shadow in the steaming mist, emerging from the depths.The leviathan, wrote Isaiah, the dragon that is in the sea.
It is no creature, though - but a vessel. That is clear as it draws closer. A ship, as Seishirou said. A ship, forged of steel and artifice. A ship, some two hundred fifty feet from bow to stern ... but the size of it is hard to judge, for there has never been a ship like this. The sharply pointed prow, to the densely plated sides - engraved with arcane symbols, stretching above and below the waterline. The decks heavily laden with machinery, structures of bewildering complexity.
The ship explodes from nowhere, air and water parting before it. And at the very tip of the bow, standing like a figurehead, is a human silhouette. Slim and small against the vast bulk of the vessel, wearing clothes the colour of shadow. Her arms are spread wide, beckoning. As the ship sails into the bay, one hand rises, higher. Palm open, fingers splayed. Riko Koganei, the apprentice of Seishirou, waves and waves. Swinging her arm back and forth, a bright and cheerful grin painted across her face.
The flagship of the fighting people.
Is it loud enough for you, old man?
As the ship makes its arrival wreathed in that cloud, Seishirou smirks, drawing a small pack of gum from his pocket. One stick is popped into his mouth. Blandly, he finally deigns to reply to the girl's perfectly valid question. "There will be /plenty/ of snacks on hand," he explains, chewing placidly.
Riko was unknown to the witch Naerose, all she saw was someone waving from a ship having fun. If she knew the name, the face, she might know that she was the ninja who had aggravated so many before, but wait, that would mean she had something in common with the witch right? Well even so the witch in red on top of the shipping crates doesn't really know the difference and doesn't care, instead she just waves back just as gleefully as she is waved at and then eats another chip. Mmm.. Honey Barbecue.
"Oh, excuse me..." Eva slips by someone to get a better view of the man speaking. Ten soldiers? It makes it sound like Eva entered in the wrong tournament. But there's been no mistake; first it was the invitation falling from the sky, and then a note, unceremoniously knifed into the boarding of her art studio in Pacific's art department. ..... That was annoying, but at least it wasn't in a place that wasn't covered over in paint.
Well, come to think of it, Eva *did* survive Thailand. Somehow. It'll be a good way to showcase Shooting Stars a bit more, too. Standing there in her usual outfit, she regards the crowd, attempting to find some face that is somehow familiar in some way. No one looks too familiar. Was this really a good idea....?
Her only answer comes in the form of Seishirou's cane. ".....?!" ..... What did she get into this time?!
The old man screams from the back. "Speak louder!"
Zach lets out a low whistle at the appearance of the ship. Nice trick, he thinks, perhaps some kind of submarine technology maybe? He ponders for a moment. The idea of wealth holds little appeal to him, really. This tournament presents him an opportunity to improve himself, improve his control of what burns and boils just under the skin.
Once more the voice chimes in, "Are the snacks on the boat?"
Sada's no longer standing there in a sassy fashion; her mouth is however hanging open as she stares at the mysterious ship. This has to be reality television, she thinks - there's no way that this isn't some kind of rigged thing. Ah, foolish youth!
For now, Katelynn is merely thinking intently about what this whole thing is truly about. It does seem like a movie, and she feels like at any moment, the director is gonna yell 'CUT!' and everything will go back to normal. But it doesn't happen. And she knows for a fact she's not dreaming either. (Don't ask how she knows, she just knows.) But her suspicions grow even more when she notices the boat appearing out of nowhere. She gulps a little, yeah it does seem a little spooky, but she's still eager to see what it's like on board. Is it really as creepy as it looks? Could it be the newest craze in cruise ships? Or could it really be an old, beat-up ship that looks like it came from the bottom of the ocean?
Actually come to think of it, a ship did just come out of the water right? Naerose wasn't quite sure, because it's night and SHE'S WEARING BLACK SHADES. Yes, this was a problem with doing that sort of thing, it made you kind of blind as a bat. So at least she had an excuse for not entirely responding, but then there is the question, how did she see Riko. . Er .. where did her chips go,
"What the snap?" she exclaims!
"Shanaigans!"
The old man is put out of Alan's mind as ship comes out of what looks like nowhere. He discounts the 'crazy ninja magic', of course. It's dark, and easy to make illusions like that. A cruel smirk splits his face as he lifts his left wrist up to his mouth as though to wipe his mouth - murmuring all the while, a fast message to his boss. Looks like he called it. The message complete, he threads his fingers into his right sleeve, pulling out a thin, black wire, completely invisible in the darkness, and drops it into the nearby water. There's a burst of static on the opposite end, and Alan's connection with "R" is severed.
His eyes growing wide as the bizarre ship appears from nowhere, Ichiro puts a hand to his forehead and laughs in stunned amusement. This is unreal! The young man's mind races a mile a minute as he attempts to process all of this. Who knew that when he woke up this morning he'd look to be on the verge of embarking on an adventure of a lifetime?!
Back teeth crunch into a lollipop, and the peices shatter to get to the toffee center. Like mot things in life, if there's a faster way to get to a prize, Elle will take it. But unlike candy, when something is surrounded by a sweet deal too good to pass up, the center is usually bitter.
There's probably about three people that know more about this giant mess than Elle, and two of them are holding it, and the last? The enigmatic Russian. The words of the ninjas don't go unnoticed by the mercenary. 'The people', 'proletariat'? They're taunting the old bear, and Elle knows it as she sits on a crate next to Naerose. Seishirou is definitely playing a few cards today. And questions are indeed being answered. Peices fall into place. Well, all except one...
And there she is. As the boat rises out of the water, her eyes widen slightly. Though not stunned by the 'revelation' per se, Elle realizes one thing: whatever 'it' is, whatever the big deal is, is the boat. Specifically, what the boat is for.
Elle turns to Naerose, and taps her on the shoulder. "You got your camera? I want pictures of that ship," she says under her breath. "I want to know what all those symbols mean, so make sure the shots are clear, capisch?"
Vyle is not usually impressed.
And while he doesn't start now, he does seem put into silence before a usual mocking comment comes from the wrestler. Instead , he continues to wait, hands in his pocket as he looks around. Shaking his head, he turns about to find someone he can turn his acid tongue on instead.
The old man hears something come out from the water. But he doesn't react to the sight of anything. Instead, he just starts moving forward towards the general sound of the boat and the edge of the docks, humming his merry little tune.
"Err. Yah," Naerose says, distracted by Elle and looking over the rims of her shades as she takes off her hat, exposing everyone who can see her (which is just about no one right now unless they're looking up) to terrible hat hair. She reaches into said hat, pulls out her camera and replaces her hat on her head. Pictures are suddenly being taken, of the ship, of Riko waving, of Seishirou, of Nikolai, of just about every single individual fighter present. She gets close ups of their faces, of the ships' machines, the runes. When she runs out of film she just takes off her hat, pulls out another thing of it and changes the fill, placing the spent one in her hat to be developed later. This at least gets her mind off her chips, which she by the way dropped in shock at the realization of the ship. . anyone below the crate might of had said chips rain on them.
The peculiar surge of crimson energy doesn't so much as faze Nikolai, confident enough that Seishirou is only doing dramatics. And dramatics they are indeed, when the swell of steam washes over the adjacent area and the looming vessel approaches. Dry amusement, really. He's impressed to be honest, unaware that the arts of ninjutsu that Seishirou utilizes were capable of such. Eyes fall on Riko, ominously were anyone to pay attention. She is the only one other the Seishirou who knows how that machine works. And far more accessible. Filed away for later. For now he merely snaps out his cane, trying to whack Hinata hard upon the back. "Be silent!" is retorted, a second time. Enough about food!
"Hmph." Among all this talk and the smoke and mirror parlour tricks one of the competitors has been awfully silent. Quite odd given the Todoh clan are often bruash and outspoken. Yet here is Kasumi with arms crossed and wearing her fighting gear as she stands near the back of the group. Probably easily overlooked by most given her short stature. This will certainly be interesting, but she had no plans to compete till the other day.
Who knows why Eiji is so interested in this, but he said his boss was wanting some info and apparently Eiji didn't want to enter it himself or spare one of his security forces members to compete. So here is Kasumi finding herself in the thick of things now trying to play the roll of a spy of sorts while competing. Of course the Strolheim ninja promised not to be far behind. Damned if she knows where he is, though.
Her expression didn't even change much when the boat did appear. She has dealt with weirdos long enough, hell her dad is the king of them, that stuff like this is somewhat surprising, but also expected in the end. All she knows is Eiji owes her big time and she is going to collect when all is said and done. Especially since he lied to her about Yuri being here and it being a perfect chance to beat up the Kyokugen brat and take her wallet.
Five minutes later? Eva's still there, utterly stunned. "..... .... So it's going to be on that ship?" She should have brought a change of clothes or something. Pondering over these little dilemmas, Eva spots the old man merrily going moving over to go aboard. How strange.... then again, age is sometimes not a limiter but an enhancement to some fighters. Either than or the old man has his own reasons... Either way, it feels wrong to simply ignore him. "Ah, sir..." She moves over to the elderly man, not daring to ask any questions just yet as she attempts to match his pace.
As the cane comes down, Hinata's no longer standing where she was, quickly ducking toward the side. The strike may have come in quick, but after running into one of Southtown's biggest playboys on the beach (and accidently dumping her ice cream on his head), she's certainly not going to be so unprepared for the chance that somebody might just have a bad attitude. Especially not in a place like this.
She spins around on one heel to look toward Nikolai, "I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to be fighting yet."
Nope! No fighting! We're still in the dramatic intro scene! Character and stage select is later. After you insert a token.
Back to the cutscene.
Out in the harbor, the vessel surges across the waves. Leaving a great trail in its wake. Wisps of steam cling to the ship's flanks, streaming from the prow as it slices through the water. Wreathed in furious mist - Suiryuu, the water dragon. And, of course, the ship's little female minder. Riko's grin grows even broader as the vessel comes to a halt.
There is no sound of engines, only silence. But the Suiryuu stops, all the same, bleeding velocity as it nears the docks. She stops some distance from the shore, across a broad expanse of water.
Standing atop the bow, Riko strikes another pose, hands on hips, head tilted to one side. Behind her, light glints from the massive sigal occupying the forward deck of the vessel, an immense shape - the distinctive crest of the Ryouhara, Seishirou's clan. One that's probably meaningless to those gathered here. But symbolism is still important. There's standards to maintain.
Of course, this is Riko, so decorum only lasts so long.
Her amplified voice echoes across the harbor, a high and musical soprano. "HIIIII, SEISHIROU-SAMA, EVERYONE! LEGENDARY FIGHTING PEOPLE! I BROUGHT THE SHIP!"
Riko lifts two fingers, the traditional peace sign.
Then she blinks, once, and peers at the gathered tournament agents. Her eyes drift over the strange old man, the Russian mobster... but they /settle/ on Hinata. Riko whips out a piece of paper. Clearing her throat, the ninja girl announces: "Actually! Before we begin, the matter of snacks is important! You see, food and beverages will be provided on board, as all accomodations. Port charges, taxes, transfers, and cruise fare are also included, as is basic medical care for any injuries that may...er, will...occur on board. However by law and our insurance company's insistance, we must state that anyone suffering from a medical condition such as pregnancy is boarding the legendary fighting flagship purely under their own risk, and we, the management, will not be liable in the event of any---"
"--The snacks are not on the ship yet," Seishirou cuts Riko off, with all due haste and volume to be heard over her amplification, with only a touch of exasperation for his trouble. Only the slightest hint. Basically, there is a reason why Seishirou is undeterred by people like Old Guy in Back and Hinata. Her name is Riko.
"But," Seishirou suggests, pronouncing and emphasizing words for any deaf people in the crowd, "I do agree. It will be best to wait til you're aboard to have your .. extracurricular questions answered. After all. You are not all going to be allowed on board."
He breathes, idly dragging his cane across the dock, before turning slightly. He speaks now to the attentive. The collected. Those who watch in silence and take notes. Each are regarded in turn with some mild discerning glance. "As I said. It won't be easy. Simply because you've been invited to participate... does not mean you are going to be suitable enough to participate. Idiots have no place aboard Suiryuu or acting as an agent of this Jinchuu."
He turns, walking the other way, back to where he originally stood.
"Therefore, your first missions will be held here. On the docks, and across Southtown. You all will perform for the right to compete aboard this great ship. Anyone who cannot find a way to gain access to the ship with what they are given... will be left here."
Of interest, he seems relatively unwilling to acknowledge that a set of people are approaching him, and looking to board the ship.
Zach falls over at Riko's ramblings. He shakes the cobwebs loose and stifles a chuckle. Worse here in some ways than it was back home. He blinks once or twice at Seishirou's proclaimation. He raises a hand.
"Excuse me, sir. Are we to take it, then, that we are allowed whatever means we would like to get aboard?"
The caned man swings around wild, waggling the cane in the general direction of Eva. "Who there?! You mugger?! Blind man don't have wallet! He old and deserve you respect!" Then the old man snaps his head rather quickly towards Seishirou, tugging down the coolie somewhat. "I walk ten miles for boat ride!" The old crazy man screams again, waggling his cane somewhere to the left of Seishirou's general direction. "Hear whales and play shuffleboard!"
Vyle blinks, finally taking the time to speak, ignoring the idiocy of the schoolgirl and the russke fighting. "So....in order to actually get in, we have to board the ship personally....with what? A ballpoint pen, a slinky, and a rope? Are we supposed to be goddamn MacGuyver here?" he asks, muttering.
Alan rolls his eyes - one ninja's got a huge dick for the dramatic, and the other ninja's a bubbling spaz. Just great. He pushes off the post, hands in pockets, but doesn't move to board the ship - a good move, since it looks like it isn't going to be as easy as all that. The smirk on his face somehow becomes more insouciant.
Alan begins to tap his left foot on the docks, body relaxing. Electricity gathers around his legs, and the tempo of his tapping rapidly increases. It's almost like he's gearing up for something.
Wait a second, perform for the right to attend? What is this, some kind of cruel joke? If it is, Katelynn isn't laughing! "I hope you're not telling us that we came all the way here only to find out that we have to take part in some kind of contest to see who will attend..." She trails off, realizing she might be jumping to a conclusion. But she's still not happy about it.
Stunned, dismissive, angry, inquisitive. So many reactions. However, for Elle and Blackjack, this is little more than another day's work. Another tap, and she's supplied with a notepad and pen. Always be prepared. In case the film can't develop for whatever magical ninja reason, Elle's taken to copying the arcane symbols on the hull, as well as sketch sizes and dimensions. Sometimes having an engineering background is damn helpful. Her writing is precise and mechanical, so that her notes can be easily read by her staff.
"Naerose, I'm setting you and Marise on research detail. I want to know what these things mean, and soon. I want /all/ possible translations of the ship's name. In the meantime, I'll do some work in figuring out the make and model of the ship."
It would seem that warships, cruisers, aircraft carriers and subs come a dime a dozen nowadays, and where they come from is always forgotten. As Seishirou issues his proclaimation, Elle shakes her head. She'll get on the ship.
And then there's finally a break in Aranha's poker face. The shock of seeing the steam and lights just causes his lips part in surprise. Even still, he recognizes it for what it is. Flashiness. He doesn't have a camera handy so he has to settle for taking in the details visually and filing them away in memory. Problem is that memory isn't perfect.
After sometime is spent in awe of the dramatic entrance of the ninja he had once fought before, he collects himself and goes back to the role he is meant to play in this part of the affairs. Observing. He's looking at the fighters he once fought against, fighters he's never fought against and is gathering information on them. Limb lengths, body weights, any small details he gather from this first look.
Then the announcement is made that they will have to get on with the things that they've provided, this brings on a large smile. This is the type of thing Aranha lives for. The opportunity to overcome obstacles is what Parkour is all about.
Ah, she's a quick one. But it was a halfhearted gesture in the first place. "Tch! If I understand this engagement properly, there may be few rules indeed!" Nikolai grunts out, immediately taking a heavy dislike to Hinata. He can worry about such horrific biasing at a later time. And at the statement that they are to find their own manner of getting aboard, Nikolai has already turned away, beginning to approach his car once more while the rest amble around like headless chickens. Semantics be damned. Once near, he wedges his cane beneath an armpit and pulls out his cellphone while the rear door is opened once more. Some people might wish to overcomplicate this. As for Nikolai? It just so happened he attended orientation with a cellphone, making it a reasonable tool to use. "Mr. Mauchavich? It is Nikolai. I am in needing of your helicopter for this evening..." The door slams shut as he gets within, and before long the car backs off and turns, exitting the center stage.
The cane swings against empty air as Eva leans back with a wince. "Ah, no, sir... I was just wondering if you needed help with anything..." Sighing helplessly with a frown, she backs off, rubbing her head. And, what's more.... they have to find a way in? Or did this man mean that they needed to pass a test of some sort? She hopes it's the latter. Looking towards Seishirou, she waits hesitantly for more information. The thought of having to scale a ship, despite how nice this nightly breeze feels, is not something Eva's willing to attempt immediately on her own.
After handing the notepad over to Elle and then being given orders she sort of nods and nods and then stares at Elle for a moment, That was a first. Okay she turns her attention back to the ship. She needs to focus on the picture taking while she still has a chance to take them. But while she's taking the pictures she decides to talk to.
"I wonder if he's being literal, I bet we could zip up there in no time on the broom." the witch says, considering the boat carefully.
Ichiro's grin slowly fades from his face as he's informed that he can't board that amazing ship just yet. Perform for the right to compete? Find a way to gain access? This whole deal just keeps getting curiouser and curiouser. Frowning in thought, Ichiro's mind wanders, pondering ways to get on to that boat.
"No," Elle replies quickly. "That's not how this is going to work."
"Anyone could jump onto that thing. Getting onto it physically isn't the issue. Getting INTO the boat is the problem, and they're going to make it a challenge."
Elle stands up, and points out the signs on the side. "Knowing what we know about the Ryuohara, this is going to be half skill, and half brains, which is something they respect. So it's going to be a test of physical capacity, and mental agility. Fighting is only half the score here."
Elle provides a little more background to Naerose. "Listen carefully to what they say. The Ryuohara don't say anything that doesn't have about three meanings. They made a big deal about things that 'we have' compared to the 'World Warriors' and Kings of Fighters tournaments. That basically means, we're supposed to be a little bit more than death that walks like people."
"A big part of this game is going to be picking apart things bit by bit. So everything you see, everything you hear, is suspect."
"I am telling you exactly that," Seishirou responds without delay, to Katelynn. He continues, more in lines that Zach will understand. "Like in life, you're given what you are given. You can either make it work, or you cannot."
Seishirou seems to have very little patience for complaints. "You can consider it whatever you want. The first round, a contest, a preliminary... it doesn't change the fact that the prize can only be won aboard this ship. Not on the docks." Almsot in time with Elle's own realization, Seishirou makes it clear for the rest of class. "You'll each be given instructions which illustrate exactly how, when and where you should board. Adversity is not in attempting to simply board a ship... it is in trying to do so while trying to stop someone else from doing the same."
He is crystal clear in philosophy. "Adversity fosters the mind. And adversity is only truly found in war.".
Pointedly ignoring the crazy old man, Seishirou taps his cane again in the ground, turning. A red line streaks out from that cane, following the exact path he took only moments prior, in a razor thin line. A path that neatly traces around the old bird. It slices through the boards with laserlike precision, and cuts out an exact rectangle of boarding from the dock. It cuts through, and leaves.. well. If the old man isn't pretty quick about it, Seishirou intends to simply drop him into the waters below with little more fanfare than any comparitive comedy, while at the same time blocking the man's line of approach to the boat.
While this goes on, he contents himself with evaluating the crowd. Hrmm.. Tippin is going to circumvent the structure. And those two over there.. the Blackjack members. Aren't they being attentive? Seishirou turns to look up to Riko, and nod once.
Or at least, that's his intent.
Riko pouts at Seishirou, giving her teacher a look. She doesn't glare for long, though. Time's a-wasting, there's more important matters at hand. She lifts a hand in Seishirou's direction, joining her thumb and forefinger - the universal symbol for 'ok'.
Then She folds her little briefing sheet, tucking it back into a pocket. Standing proud upon the Suiryuu's prow, Riko looks across the waters. She studies the crowd on shore, gauging their mood. They're pretty far away, but she seems to have a pretty good read on their pulse...
So.
Her eyes flit briefly to Elle, but she doesn't hold the stare. Instead she turns, walking down the deck. And as she does, the Suiryuu comes about. The ship turning to starboard, silently, cutting through the water. With a soundless whisper, it pulls away from the shore, heading back out to sea, water swirling in its wake.
The stage is set. Now, the players...
The old man hums quietly, holding out his cane. The man falls through the hole in the dock as it cuts away from under him. He grasps the top of the cane, allowing the majority of it to strike the dock boards. He then slowly flexes himself about, twisting his back and curling himself like a catepillar until most of his body is up in the air. He flexes himself rapidly, flipping his body into the air with a short jump. He lands on the side of the hole away from the boat, placing both feet on the ground, then pushing his cane against the wooden planks. "Man who choose crappy meeting place not have good mind for crap!" He then bursts into kooky laughter.
It takes a while for Alan R. B. to actually notice Elle - all of his attention was focused on Seishirou and his "yellow submarine", and his speeching. But now he spots her, turning his head to fix the side of her head with a stare, and a smirk. She hasn't contacted him in a while, not since the frankly perfectly innocuous incident in the alley. If she lets her 'loyalties' get hurt that easily, sooner or later she's going to cut someone off who could've saved her life. And considering the interest his boss seems to have set in her, that may have already happened.
The sparse light hits Alan's sunglasses in a way that sets off a bright flash of light as he looks back at Seishirou. The old man doesn't even get a look - this is Japan, all the old men are secret monkey kung fu masters. Another smoky breath comes from Alan's mouth, joining the slowly rising cloud above his head.
Zach simply heads for the apartment he's rented out. They found him, told him they would deliver their instructions. That's good enough for him, and if they don't? Well, he didn't need to be here /that/ badly.
Rolento suddenly descends on a line hefting a cruise missile.
His eyes darting up to the crates on which Naerose and Elle sit as he hears muffled voices speaking, Ichiro's eyebrows knit together in irritation as he notices the girl that attempted to steal, and then trashed his motorcycle for the first time since arriving here. Looking back at his classic ride, Ichiro takes solace in the fact it looks like he won't have to leave his bike here on the docks after all. He'll have to keep an eye out on the strange woman, especially when his motorcycle is nearby.
This whole night has gotten a lot more interesting for Katelynn than she ever dreamed it would. The whole thing that she just witnessed and the concept of it all is something that sounds too good to be true, but it seems believable at the same time. All in all, though, this whole thing is something new for this Shotokan Queen.
"....Heh. Not bad, 'old man.'" Ryouhara smirks. He seems thuroughly impressed with the other cane-wielding coolie, and to that end, seems perfectly content to let him wiggle around and say whatever he wants at that point.
One could swear he then glances at Alan just to mouth the words 'Don't fail.'
Abruptly, Seishirou raises his own elaborate cane, and points in the distance. The sound of a motorcade can be heard there, as a pair of long Southtown Express buses (obviously rented from the company for exhibition reasons) approach down the service road leading to the docks. They will turn, and in unison, their doors will open.
Their motors remain running.
"I'll make this, at the very least, simple... get aboard the buses. Those of you with invitations marked with red sigils board the bus with the red plate. Same for blue sigils and blue plates. They will take you to your respective areas for your missions and you will be furnished with instructions from the driver at that time. In this way, we will determine who here is intelligent enough to do what is necessary to succeed. Those that are will be rewarded for their ambition. Those that are not.."
Seishirou shrugs. "...No one will mourn them."
At that point, the ninja steps into the hole he himself created. He drops out of sight.
And in that instant, he is gone.
The Old Man slowly makes his way towards the blue bus, tapping his chin against the ground. Briefly, the coolie slides up and what looks like a white eye spies out from under it at Seishirou. The old man tugs the coolie down again and wanders off towards the bus, humming his little ditty.
DRAMATIC.
The old man then whacks the side of the bus. "This bus better have air conditioning! Cold moist nights bad for joints!"
Ichiro sighs as the buses roll up. Well, there goes that idea. Walking up to his Honda Aero, Ichiro checks to make sure that the key is in his pocket and gives the vehicle a goodbye pat before collecting his duffel bag and helmet and walking off towards the red bus.
"Think we have any time before we're off?" the witch asks Elle while looking longingly at the bike.
"Cause I totally bet I could hotwire that thing." But the truth was she couldn't. As much as she claims to what she can do is wreck the bike in an attempt to hotwire it.
"Get the rest of the team in gear," Elle says as she descends the crates. "And leave that damn bike alone. We've got bigger fish to fry." Petty crime aside, it's time to pull open the tin on something a little more interesting.
Heavy boots slam against the wood crates as she finally hits ground.
First thing's first: make sure she gets contact with Nikolai,through whatever means are necessary.
Doesn't the old saying go, better late than never? Of course, that's the way the rules always go, though it wasn't so much that one particular girl was late, rather than staying hidden to make a grand entrance. After all, the entrance is the most important part of any combat event. So there may be quiet for a moment and then a heroic cry of, "MORTALS!!"
There is a gust of wind, and a girl clad in entirely pink and black leaps from the background and with a mighty flip, lands on top of the bus, dropping into a spider-man like crouch, "When the spotlight shines, and there is a call for help! When one needs a defender of knowledge! When one cries for the protector of education! When one is in dire need of.. Of..."
"... Um.. Something REALLY COOL. There is one Heroine who will answer the cry!"
The girl clad in pink stands up, windmilling her arms, twirls like a whirlwind and when she comes to a stop, strikes a most sentaiish of sentai poses as she cries, "HURRICANE HIMEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!"
A gust of wind whips about the young heroine, making her scarf whip like wild as she looks very cool! At least.. Well, she thought she did. When she doesn't hear the roar of the crowd, the saikyo student pauses, blinks again, then stands up straight, her eyes shifting quickly from side to side. And then they shift for a moment longer.
"..... Tough crowd." She murmurs, setting her hands on her hips. This will be a long trip!
Log created on 19:59:06 08/19/2007 by Riko, and last modified on 10:16:03 08/20/2007.