Description: Rock and K' may never have learned the alphabet or how to multiply, but they certainly know how to -beat the shit out of each other- while insulting the other's intelligence. WAY TO GO, GUYS. At least it was -in- a school? (Fun fact: K' spent like a fourth of the fight at exactly 1% health.)
Rock Howard was visiting Taiyo High to try and lobby for reenrollment in the next semester; he he his reasons and their initials are S and K. The problem is, he's been enrolled in every High School in the greater Southtown area by this point; and he always gets booted out for either fighting on campus or missing too many classes.
International Fighting Trips with Terry Bogard tend to cause that. It doesn't help that Rock's a bit of a punk, doesn't care about his grades, and is world famous -- it's a delicious cocktail for administrators to hate you and teachers to groan if you're on their roster. And without a Geese Howard donation to get him back in, people aren't as willing to forgive and forget.
Fresh off a meeting with the Principal, Rock's taking the long way back off campus, hoping to catch sight of either Sakura or Shingo. He knows they both go to Taiyo, and eve after school, wouldn't be surprised to run into one or the other. He kind of wants to fight them; if only to piss the Principal who just hard-lined him from reenrolling with a spiel about the risks and dangers of having a Howard in the building.
Hands in his purple coat's pockets, Rock swings around the corner of the u-corridor on the second floor, his Bogard-hat pulled low and red eyes giving the people he passes skeptical looks. He doesn't recognize anyone, which means they probably won't help him cause the kind of trouble he's craving.
K' had arrived a little after the slated start of Maxima's fight, perhaps hoping to watch the proceedings from a relatively quiet corner of the crowd. However, he'd been told upon arrival that this match-- due to difficulties regarding the limited space in the library and the unique requirements thereof-- would not actually be open to a live audience. He could, however, go and watch the event from the television screens set up in the adjacent classroom if he wanted--
Ignoring the rest of whatever the event staffer was trying to tell him, K' had cocked a baleful eye into the room to find it swarming with people. He'd quickly backed away, opting to just ask Maxima the details later.
It's perhaps fortunate for all involved that K' doesn't actually know who Maxima's opponent is. It's the only reason he's standing quite still outside the library door, instead of just kicking it in and charging in. Dressed down from his usual fighting attire-- though in truth, the only real change is that he's got jeans on instead of leather-- he's lounging against the wall next to the door, slouching heavily with his everpresent shades obscuring his eyes. He looks the absolute picture of delinquency. It's a wonder the hall monitors haven't already tried to chew him out.
He might be recognizable to the young Howard, if Rock has watched any recent televised events. Even if not, K' recognizes him. His head lifts as Rock approaches, a heavy sort of scrutiny settling on the other from behind those shades. It's obvious he's staring even if his eyes aren't visible.
Rock walks right past K'. He gets about four steps beyond the other man before he stops in his place. He stands there for a second, thinking if that's who he thinks it is, and then slowly takes a pair of steps back until his shoulder is aligned with the other fighter. And slowly, his head tilts over to regard the man. Apparently, he didn't get the memo that there was a heavyweight Neo League fight scheduled in the library. It's pretty crazy that these schools allow sanctioned combat, but then again, the kickback grants the League probably pays buy a lot of To Kill a Mockingbird books.
There's a brief pause and one of those palpable swirls in the tension of the air as Rock looks over K' from behind the brim of his trucker hat.
Then Howard starts to grin. "Hey, Dash," he says. These guys have a history of mutual dislike, stemming back to some sort of Night Club incident several years back. When they're in the same room things usually start to catch on fire. But it's been awhile; their respective paths haven't crossed in over six months. People can change. "You're the last person I'd expect to see at Taiyo High."
A beat, and then Rock adds, "Not that learning the multiplication tables isn't worthwhile, champ."
'Hey, Dash,' Rock says. And for a moment, K' doesn't even twitch. Then, presently, he cracks a humorless grin, white teeth flashing startlingly against dark skin and darker shades, as he makes a rather simple reply: "Hey, asshole."
People can change. Yes. Six months is a long time.
But apparently, Rock and K' have not. Especially given how their first exchange turns out.
There is a long moment in which K' simply stares at Rock in bland silence in the wake of that burn: hot as any Kusanagi fire K' might throw. A slow, incredulous sound whiffs out of the back of the kid's throat, a derision-laden, "Tcheh..." hissing from between his teeth. K' paws his shades down, amused yellow eyes baring themselves as he sneaks a look at Rock over them. He then pulls the eyewear completely off. It gets pocketed.
"Yeah. Pretty worthwhile," he agrees smilingly, perfectly amiable. "How're you doing with the alphabet?"
It's pretty much the only warning Rock gets before K' snaps his right leg up in a crescent kick right at the side of Rock's snarky head. REAL MATURE, K'. "Probably not too great, since you don't seem to have got up to 'K' yet!"
COMBATSYS: K' has started a fight here.
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K' 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Rock has joined the fight here.
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Rock 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 K'
COMBATSYS: Rock counters Light Kick from K' with Gedan Crack Counter.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
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Rock 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 K'
The benefit of two people not changing is that something that held true before holds true today. And Rock Howard knows that K' is a volatile, rash, and impetuous person. He's nothing like Rock; not in the least. There are no similarities, no grudges against bad people who manipulated them in their pasts, no short fuses or desires to stick it to people with their fists and fury. No, no similarities at all...
It is the familiarity that, the minute the insult leaves Rock's lips and the expected comeback is lobbed, puts Howard on edge. His muscles tense impeccably beneath his clothes, his mind already starting to run back into the memory banks for data about the last time he crossed this guy's path. Anything he can remember about his technique and style could make the difference if this escalates.
And it escalates fast.
K's kick comes rocketing at Howard, and the son of Geese reacts on pure adrenaline-powered instinct. He rotates around it, like Emmitt Smith, with a pivot on his booted heel to send K's kick slicing down through the air he just occupied. With the momentum of his spin behind him, Rock channels it into a tightly somersaulting backflip that sends his leg barreling for the back of K's head at a downward angle -- a variation of his Crack Shoot -- and buoyed by the force of his body's spin.
Landing in a three-point crouch, Rock laughs. "Same old K. That's good, I was looking for trouble." he says while rising up. He starts to pull one of his fingerless gloves tighter. "Care you make it interesting?"
K' is extremely predictable in many ways. The likelihood of him attacking with very little provocation is one of those things that can be so reasonably estimated. He snaps into an assault the instant he's done talking, swiping a blow at Rock, but that aforementioned predictability means the young Howard is ready for it. More than ready for it. He retaliates sharply, sending K' into a skidding stumble forwards, and a last-minute opening of his stance is all that keeps K' from entirely losing his footing.
He simply stays right where he is a bit, seemingly content to do nothing as Rock talks, his shoulders hunched and lean body mantled low. And then K' straightens up, turning to face Rock, and his neutral look actually cracks into a grin. The expression's usually humorless, but this time it's not. There's some kind of dark amusement to it: sparse, but present.
"If it's not interesting, it's not worth the time." A light shrug of a single shoulder accompanies the words, the kid-- for once-- standing at his full height: head tilted to one side in contempt and anticipation alike. "So don't slack..."
It's on the heels of those words that K' lunges forwards again, eternally aggressive in his mode of fighting: trying to snap a hard kick straight into Rock's jaw.
COMBATSYS: Rock just-defends K''s Minutes Spike!
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Rock 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 K'
Rock's red eyes thin at K' as the other guy starts to rise up after the Crack Counter. He may not know the alphabet, but he knows how to fight. Any man or woman who has ever gone toe to toe with him can speak about how much he puts into this. They can literally taste the fire that is fueled by his need for the fight; his desire to improve, to better himself, to gain in skill and acumen so that he can one day destroy his father.
It's the face of his father that Rock thinks about by the time K' is turning back around. It's the name Geese Howard that sits on the front of Rock's brain when the kick comes whistling for the face. It's the dark eyes of that terrible man that haunt him when he takes a step back from his attacker, shifts his balance, and sends a bracing forearm right into the path of the NEST-experiment's leg. Strong bone meets bone, flinging the force of the kick through his body in a fluid deflection.
"Good," he says and then he finally acts. Rock goes on the offense. One hard step forward is taken, his toe digging into the vinyl of the school's floor, before his mass cascades with chi and his other arm chambers inward even as it explodes forward like a slingshot. Golden energy coils down the length, reaching a crescendo at the tip of Rock's elbow, as he tries to drive it straight and true into the chest of his opponent.
COMBATSYS: K' just-defends Rock's Hard Edge!
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Rock 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 K'
That same drive to fight-- to improve-- is printed in K''s own face: burned in his wolf-yellow eyes. His expression might as well be a mirror of that look that smolders in Rock's face, when he stands and turns to face him: though in K''s case, some of that driving fire within is literal. The two boys might actually get along better if they weren't too similar to do anything but clash. They've got similar goals... and similar intended methods of reaching them. Violence. Fighting. Improvement of their own ability to the greatest of heights.
K''s eyes half-lid at Rock's single-word reply, but he makes none of his own. From here on out, talking is a distraction.
His attack deflected, K' can feel the way Rock's skillfully slaked the energy away. He acts immediately the instant he knows his kick's dead in the water, pushing off from the point of contact with Rock's arm to get distance, and landing several feet away from Rock in a skidding three-point stance. His narrowed gaze flicks up to the expected retaliation, amber eyes focusing on the incoming elbow strike, and K' reacts quickly, catching the strike in a heavily-armored right hand: skidding back a few paces as he bleeds the force of the blow off into that backwards momentum.
He shoves away from Rock the first instant he can, opening further the distance he's already gained. His armored hand lifts with a slight, loosening shake, fingers tensing, and abruptly it rakes upwards: a ring of fire swarming to life in the air before the NESTS project. K' twists sharply then, his rear leg whipping around in a spinkick that sends the fire bolting towards Rock: its heat searing along the wall of the hallway as it goes.
COMBATSYS: K' successfully hits Rock with Second Shoot.
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Rock 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 K'
The unusual attacks K' can create baffle many of his opponents. Rock Howard is no exception. They are so atypical from the usual balls of chi or slashes of wind most people can produce. They remind him, some, of his Uncle. But even then, it isn't really the same. And that's why they're so damn effective. So damn effective, indeed.
Rock is honestly surprised when his strike is swallowed by K''s technique. There aren't a lot of people on the planet who can so deftly defer his own signature variation of one of Terry Bogard's most famous moves. And by the time Howard is recovering and pulling his elbow back to prepare a defense, some of that god forsaken fire is launching towards him. With little recourse, Rock tries to shield his body with his forearms.
It doesn't work.
The flames burn across his body, heating his coat and licking at his skin. He can feel parts of him melting inside. But there's just nothing you can do about it. If you mess with K', you're going to get burned. You just have to be hard enough of a man to take it.
Jaw hardening from the pain, Rock pulls his coat off and starts shaking it, dousing some flickering embers of fire from torching more of the material. He loses so many jackets this way. Looking up, Rock locks his eyes on K', narrows them, and then tosses the coat to the side. "Alright," he says. "Few new tricks, same jackass behind them."
COMBATSYS: Rock focuses on his next action.
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Rock 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 K'
The unusual quality of K''s attacks indeed surprise many an opponent: sometimes to the point where it becomes something of an unfair advantage. That's why K' typically holds back the fire until halfway through a fight. Let the opponent think he's just another cocky brat with some skill and some chi power. Because that's what they'll assume up until they feel that Kusanagi fire and realize that it's not just chi that looks like fire-- it's actual, real flames. Flames that only a very few people in the world are -supposed- to possess.
"No," is his short reply, as he straightens back up from his attack. He tosses hair out of his eyes with a growl, eyes fixing on Rock with some strange glint of bitterness couched in them upon hearing those words. "That was nothing new."
Not to him, at least. He's been feeling the bite of his own stolen fire for years. The pain he's felt from his fire far outstrips the pain he's inflicted on others with it.
Rock's obvious caution is barely heeded. K' himself is careful only at the best of times. That fact is reflected in the way he simply attacks again, pouncing forwards in a brief lunge, his gloved hand sparking as it alights mid-swing. K''s upwards swipe isn't meant to connect, however-- it's the surging gout of fire that roars to life in the wake of it that is, the roiling flames ripping towards Rock.
COMBATSYS: Rock fails to interrupt Eins Trigger from K' with Rising Tackle.
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Rock 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 K'
Now /this/ looks a lot like the purple energy Kain Heinlein wields. That weird energy that Grant tried to teach him to master; that strange form of chi that seems entirely unique. It's not the elemental flames of a Kusanagi; it's something different but similar enough that Rock is able to anticipate that the strike isn't meant to connect with him... Physically.
But that doesn't make it any less hard to evade. Even knowing what is going to happen, and bracing himself to move beneath it and transition into something he's been working on for his /next/ fight with his father, Rock's too slow. The pure flames of K' are faster and more dangerous than any derivative. They lurch out at him like a pair of tendrils, a set of hands, as fast as light. Crashing into Rock's chest, the force of the heat ruptures against his black t-shirt and knocks Rock back.
Howard hits the back wall of the hallway, right against the metal of a row of lockers. One of them swings open from the impact, spilling a bunch of Math and History books onto the floor, as Rock recoils off the locker in a stumble. He holds his chest, feeling the pain and showing it on his brow. There's a brief look of anger, self-directed at his own inability to get out of the way, before he spits and stands back up.
The best offense is a ... good perimeter of sassy dialogue?
"Ever thought about fighting like a man?"
K' skids to a stop as his fire connects, killing the flames with a flexing shut of his right hand. He looks on as Rock recovers from his assault, the worst sort of emotionless neutrality simmering in his look as he simply... waits for Rock to get up. In the meantime, the small knot of curious onlookers-- some students, some people that came to watch the league match-- that had initially gathered have mostly scattered: not keen on remaining in close proximity to a firewielder when in an enclosed space.
A black brow lifts as Rock snaps that insult: words calculated to piss K' off and get him careless. In part, it's successful. K''s eyes slit, his gloved hand shutting tightly with a complaint of metal, as he hisses a derisive noise of pure scorn. "Don't blame me if you can't handle it," he replies lowly, the barest flicker of a mirthless smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
His right hand opens presently, igniting with more of that damnable fire-- it bursts directly before K' as the boy tries getting in close again, unremitting in his attacks. This time the aim is not simply to strike Rock with the flames themselves, but to hit him with a scything uppercut of a kick: one that just happens to plow through the fire in its path, trying to drive the flame into Rock together with the blow.
COMBATSYS: Rock blocks K''s Second Shell.
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Rock 1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0 K'
Rock gets smarter and tougher. He doesn't skirt away from the fire this time. He realizes he's going to have to be hard enough to take the pain; he has to give it back to K' twice as hard because -- in the confined space of a school hallway -- he's never going to be able to get completely out of the way of that fire. That's the only way to win a fight with a guy like this. You have to be meaner and tougher than them.
Bracing himself /properly/ this time, Rock doesn't try to be fancy and use the explosion of fire to his advantage. He doesn't try to wait for it to duck it and then lay an upper-cut or anything else. He just weathers it. He lets the red-orange flames swallow him; his arms blocking his face. The kick through the fire comes a second later, slamming firmly against Rock's defense, driving him back more than the intended up. It still hurts like hell.
Rock uses that pain to his advantage, letting the hurt power the punishment he intends to deliver on K'. He's loving this fight; it's a challenge and he knows that guy will give it as good as he gets it. That's a rare thing and improves Rock's focus. It aids his determination. As soon as the heat has subsided, the pain thrown into a compartment with so many other teenage issues, Howard storms forward. Nothing fancy, nothing special. He just break dashes forward, pulls his right arm back, and tries to clear K''s head from his shoulders.
COMBATSYS: K' fails to interrupt Fierce Punch from Rock with Claw Bites.
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Rock 1/-======/=======|=======\-------\0 K'
K' swipes his right hand down the instant his kick connects, quenching the fire that streams from it until little more than wisps and shreds of flame drip from his tensed fingers. He tries to recover from his blocked kick just as quickly, snapping his leg back down and taking a step back in preparation, but Rock gets in his face rather more quickly than K' can react. That fierce blow strikes K' clear across the jaw, stopping the gathering fire that threatens to ignite furiously about his hands. Whatever K' had intended to do to defend or stop that blow, it's killed in that instant.
K' skids back a few reeling steps at that, head shaking in disorientation like a dog just kicked in the face. A deep growl and he reorients himself, his stance steadying as his eyes flick back up to focus on Rock. Despite the snappish comments he's been guilty of this fight, despite the scorn that patterns its snarling way across his face as he wipes a trail of blood from the corner of his mouth... he's not enjoying this any less than Rock is. It's been as much a challenge to him as it has to the young Howard, and K' has no use for anything that doesn't push him hard.
For the moment, it seems he's content to hang back: perhaps still recovering his wits from that solid blow to the face.
Ahhhhh, satisfaction. Knuckle to bone, muscles pushing against skin, that's the way a fight should go. Rock uses his natural talent for chi energy as much as the next guy, but when it comes down to it, he prefers the vintage fighting style of a street brawler. It's why he admires Terry Bogard so much. And if he could have it his way, it'd just be two men in a room with nothing but their fists to settle their differences. Even this slight glimmer of that; this momentary right-cross to the jaw, it makes him smile a wicked smile.
Since K' afforded him the luxury of getting his wits back a few minutes ago, Rock doesn't press his advantage. He lets K' get himself righted again because he knows it will make the guy start thinking twice. Fighting is as much as psychological game as it is a battle of the body. Landing that punch so well means that K' won't rush at him quite as reckessly again. He might hesitate a tenth of a second longer, be a half a step more cautious... And that's all Rock usually needs.
"Where's your big bodyguard?" Rock wonders, having lost a fight to Maxima recently and still feeling raw about it. "Off winning championships? What /were/ you doing here, looking for a new best friend?"
COMBATSYS: Rock focuses on his next action.
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Rock 1/-======/=======|=======\-------\0 K'
Different people have different ideas of what's viscerally satisfying. Some, like Rock, find that satisfaction only in pure physical fist-fighting. Some, like K', can find fulfilment both in violent interchanges of punishing physical violence-- and the scent of burning flesh. The sound of fire searing into an opponent.
His head tilts impudently to one side as Rock talks at him, a cruel smile knifing the grim look on his face wide open to reveal a startling bitterness. Ironic, because it's partially true. Part of the reason he and Maxima even bother with these sanctioned fights at all is potentially to find 'new friends.' People that could help in any way against NESTS. People that have as much a grudge against them as they do. Unfortunately, without much further insight into Rock's motivations... K' doesn't think the kid quite qualifies.
He's not even, at this particular juncture... particularly likeable.
"It's none of your god damn business why I'm here," he replies graciously enough. But despite those rather charming words, he doesn't make a move to attack. Any thought that he might just be sitting idle, however, should rapidly meet its demise the instant one notices the way fire lingers around his hands, bangling his wrists like living bracelets: the way a gleam of fire enters his eyes, warming the cold yellow of them.
COMBATSYS: K' gathers his will.
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Rock 1/-======/=======|=======\===----\1 K'
Maybe, somewhere and someday, K' will learn that Rock Howard was kidnapped in Thailand by NESTS. It was only the sheer unpredictable intensity of the Legendary Wolf that prevented the son of Geese from being tossed into a vat in some underground laboratory. It was Terry Bogard who saved Rock from having to deal with a guy named R'. He literally fought Igniz and Zero to a standstill, long enough for Rock to get free, for them to crash their private getaway plane, and make off on ATVs. It was one of the best day's of Rock's life.
"Fair enough," he replies to K', with a serene roll of a shoulder, sliding back into a more traditional Hakyokusaken stance. It's true, it is none of his god damn business. And he's already succeeded in irritating this guy enough. He's not going to get him on much more of a tilt. And it might be dangerous if he somehow /does/, because the magnitude and output this guy can bring to the table is scary. It's up there with the best fighters Rock's fought. And he's fought a ton of people.
From his base stance, one drilled into him by a million repetitions by his unrelenting father, Rock decides to be decisive. He decides to put this fight to another level. They're evenly matched, they've stared each other down and tasted one another's mettle. But Howard has let this guy hang around for too long. He can't match him in offensive power over time, but in bursts, in white hot flashes of rage and power, Rock can go toe to toe with anyone. It's the unlocking of potential -- that sizzle flicker of talent that so many see within him. The reason that men in the Halls of Power across the planet covet the chance to train him. Krauser, Geese, Kain, NESTS, even the enigmatic Rugal -- they've all tried to take a piece of Rock Howard.
K' finds out why.
It happens in a pulsing second. One minute Rock is standing there grinning, then next he's on the man like a wolf in the wild. He comes at him at a thousand miles an hour, chi suddenly billowing around him like he was the eye of a tempest. He strikes for every part of K''s body, punch after punch sliding into kick after kick. There's a perfect harmony to the assault, each manuever seguing into the next, beating its beautiful rhythm as one of the world's most ancient techniques; mastered by one man and passed on to his only living offspring.
It all culminates in a brilliant, unmistakable, crescendo. The sequence of fists and fury coalesce into the joining of Rock's hands as he thrusts them straight out from his core towards K's chest. All of the power channels into their length, brews for a second in a golden corona of potential, and then explodes forward in a blinding beam of golden light.
COMBATSYS: Rock successfully hits K' with Deadly Rave Neo.
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Rock 0/-------/----===|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 K'
Perhaps one day the two boys will stop beating on one another long enough to actually discover that fact. Maybe they'll discover they actually have something in common-- some similar grudge against that company that's tried to wreck Rock's life-- and succeeded in destroying K''s. But today is not likely to be that day. The two of them are already conditioned to bark and snarl at one another when they meet, two wolves snapping and snarling in defensive conflict. They've determined to interact in a somewhat different way. Using one another as a stepladder to try to strive for better performance.
But it really is in Rock's best interests to end this quick. K' might not look like much-- might just look like another disaffected brat that ropeladdered out of a grounding-- but the stamina behind that lean frame is formidable. K' is capable of going at it with his best for far longer than most, conditioned by years of brutal training and driven by a fire-plated will.
But where Rock's particular talent-- sudden bursts-- gets him a whole bunch of people wanting to train him, K''s particular abilities... get him the same group of people wanting to rip him apart on the dissection table. It's not a fun time.
But even those enhancements can't prepare him fully for the burst of speed Rock suddenly puts on. K' kicks backwards instantly, skidding into a defensive stance, arms snapping up-- but Rock gets past his guard with a quickness K' heretofore completely hadn't expected. The assault is... shockingly akin to one of K''s own, and somewhere between that cavalcade of punishing blows K' appreciates a little bit of what others feel when he cuts loose on them. Blasted back by that last surge of chi, it's K''s turn to hit the wall hard. He slides down to a kneel, one hand bracing against the floor to keep him from simply hitting the ground, and he promptly coughs a stream of blood: his forearm lifting moments after to swipe the blood from his face. For a moment he does nothing but draw wet breaths, slowly pushing back to his feet using the wall as a brace; and then, once he's got composure enough again, he barks a bloody and brief spate of laughter.
"Not fucking bad," he comments. And then, with very little preamble, he bolts forward with a surprising rush of speed given his state, bloody hands igniting with a fire that soon sears the wet red from his skin. He seeks to slam one clawing, fire-ridden uppercut into Rock's jaw, spinning hard to put even more force behind it-- and then, should the first connect, he'll add another whirling rising blow to knock Rock even higher, finishing with a scything downwards kick to send Rock smashing back to the ground.
COMBATSYS: Rock counters Heaven Drive from K' with Joudan Crack Counter.
- Power hit! -
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Rock 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 K'
Rock stands there in poised position, his extended arms held together in front of his body, his breathing coming deep and hard, for several seconds. His red eyes align on K', watching the reprecussions of the Deadly Rave Neo, waiting to see if the man has the fortitude to get up after that. There aren't very many people on the planet who can. And while Rock knows he doesn't perform the secret technique with as much skill as his father, it still hurts. He's felt it from the only other man on the planet who can do it firsthand dozens of times.
Finally pulling his arms back, a gloved hand lifts his Bogard-hat and the other slides through his blond hair to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. He's half turns from K', preparing to call the fight, when the words ping off the side of his skull. Not fucking bad?! Red eyes snapping wide as he head shoots back over his shoulder, there's a brief flash of astonishment that bleeds across his face before the NESTS-creation is coming at him like a 900 pound gorilla.
"Ohh... No fucking way," Rock says, completely amazed K' is still breathing, as he backpedals into the oncoming onslaught. The first strike comes barreling in at him and Howard throws an elbow into the fiery mess; meeting it mid-way with a chasm of golden chi like some sort of lightsaber duel. And then, as the second strike comes at him to follow it up, he falls backwards.
Right leg shooting out, Rock rolls onto his back and supplants K' by driving his heel into K''s chest and using his momentum against him. Judo for the win! Coming out of the rolling toss, Rock smacks a palm into the tile floor of the hallway and pushes himself up to one knee.
"Stay /down/," he growls.
There is an important distinction to be made here. Namely, the distinction between 'exhaustion' and 'injury.'
K' is extremely injured. However, judging by the savage look in his eyes and the reckless grin that rips across his face as he lunges clear for Rock, he's far from being tired.
The look of astonishment that prints itself briefly on Rock's face is just, so to speak, fuel for the fire.
He rips at Rock brutally, adrenaline driving his limbs to move even despite the injuries that have been inflicted on them. But the fact remains that K' is just a bit too rash and a bit too wounded to carry his assault properly, particularly against an opponent still as composed as Rock Howard. Handily thrown out of his attack by Rock's quick thinking, K'... nonetheless twists in the air even as he whips past Rock, landing in an animalistic skid on all fours.
'Stay down,' Rock tells him. The only answer is a bark of laughter and a deep snarl: "I'm not done, asshole."
No, K' is not particularly smart.
He lunges clear at Rock again, despite the patent foolhardiness of pushing himself any further: surging forwards in an attempt to snare Rock by the front of the shirt, yank him forwards and down to bare the spine, and slam an elbow clear into the other boy's back.
COMBATSYS: Rock fails to counter Spot Pile from K' with Gedan Crack Counter.
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Rock 0/-------/---====|=======\=------\1 K'
Rock is surprised by K''s tenacity to continue to survive. He's surprised, too, by how well he moves considering he just ate a Deadly Rave Neo. When the guy's gloved hands grab him by the shirt and twist, he ends up going with it against his will. A quarter second later, that elbow crushes into his spinal column, doing years of irreparable damage to his back. Crashing into the ground with a terrible smack of skin on hard flooring, it's all Rock can do to roll out of the way of any immediate follow-up strikes.
Hauling himself back up, Rock doesn't look much better than K'. The repeated gouts of fire leave just about every piece of his body burning like he has a fever. His skin is visibly burnt in places; his clothing looking worse. His black shirt is potch-marked with burn holes. His black jeans are frayed from skipping through few columns of heat. Char marks dot his face and the only thing that doesn't look ruined is his hat, amazingly.
"So it continues," he says, sounding like he actually likes getting his ass kicked around. He wipes a thumb across his jaw and runs his tongue over a few loose teeth.
Half of K''s continued excellent performance is due to those enhancements of NESTS. He's -built- to last longer than the average fighter, specifically engineered to continue putting out his best even when inches from complete unconsciousness. And he is on the verge of passing out now: part of the reason why he's so seemingly wild and unreasoningly violent. There is very little in the way of coherent thought left under that bloodied silver hair of his.
But more than that, sheer tenacity and force of will was already a personality trait of K', even beyond NESTS's tampering with his genetic structure and strength.
And while he might be on the verge of passing out, beaten within an inch of his life, he doesn't look any less pleased about getting his ass thrashed than Rock does. Rock's comment draws a thin smirk, a brief expression that soon passes as K' pants in a couple sorely-needed breaths. "Not for much longer," he presently replies in a wet rasp, finally acknowledging his own condition, trying to wipe blood out of his eyes and only succeeding in smearing red across his brow. "But I figure you'd rather be kept busy, up until the end. So..."
He's starting to look tired now, injury and exertion alike taking their toll now. But somehow, he still manages to summon fire: his right hand lifting and turning in order to deftly cradle the flame that springs to life amidst his fingers. He hesitates only a moment, that fire burning sustainedly in his hand and dripping down his wrist, before he abruptly slams forwards in a straight and brutal line towards Rock: a burst of intense fire preceeding his rushing form, and lingering wisps trailing behind.
COMBATSYS: Rock fails to counter Heat Drive from K' with Joudan Crack Counter.
[ \\\\\ < > ///// ]
Rock 0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0 K'
Now Rock is as dead as his opponent. There is something to be said about a man who doesn't ever stop; it's just as Rock expected, he'd have to hit K' twice as hard as he got hit. That was working until the man went Wolverine-Primal on his ass. Now he's doing everything he can to not get blown out of the building. He's completely off his game and it's showing; the last ditch efforts of the NESTS-creation tearing through Howard's naturally gifted physique.
The Heat Drive adds it's hatred to Rock's bruised and burnt body. It hammers into him like a battering ram on the gates of a castle. Howard's chest caves to the power of the strike -- his toes lifting off the ground from the force of the impact -- a shockwave of power shooting out from their connection point before he is launched clear into the far wall of the hallway. And this time, Rock doesn't find a wall of lockers to swallow his force. No, he slams right into the cement block wall between the hallway and the library.
Cracks in the stone spiderweb from his impact point, even after Rock's fallen forward onto his knee. He spits, internal bleeding making his throat taste like copper. What comes out doesn't look much better. "Heh," he says, feeling the fluid in his lungs and the smoke curl off his body. That's never a good thing. He manages to, slowly, get back to both feet -- with a hand braced against the wall. His other one pulls the scraps of his t-shirt free.
"Let's do that again."
Panting hard now, bloodied and feeling the sharp stabs of pain that mean -something- -- or multiple somethings-- are broken within him, K' doesn't have the strength or presence of mind to even bother about stopping properly after he's slammed Rock into the far wall. Some of his momentum is killed by the impact, sure, but what isn't is hard for him to kill off in any way that could be called graceful. He hits the ground himself in a skid on hands and knees, coughing hard, and it takes a long while for him to drag himself back to some semblance of a stand.
"Shit..." Despite the expletive, the tone of K''s voice is surprisingly inoffensive. The gleam of his single visible eye-- the other is slowly being taken over by blood, running down his face from some cut hidden by his hair-- is amused and intent despite the beating its owner has taken. "You don't fucking stay down either, do you...?"
K' is usually too cynical to believe in idealistic shit like persevering despite impossible odds, but for some reason it doesn't bother him in this instance the way it might bother him some other time. Chalk it up to how moody the boy is. Or maybe to the fact that in this case, the odds really -aren't- impossible.
Either way, he hasn't got the breath to respond Rock any more than that. He saves his breath for something else: namely, a last lunge forwards in an attempt to swipe a low sweep kick at the other boy. Incredible that he's still going at all.
COMBATSYS: Rock counters Narrow Spike from K' with Joudan Crack Counter.
[ \\\\ < > / ]
Rock 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 K'
This is finally the moment Rock's been waiting for. He's been getting hammered around like a baseball in a Red Sox Playoff game for the last five minutes. The minute he'd get his feet under him, K' would be slamming into him again. Be it with the fists, or the fire, or the fists covered with the fire, it was just a barrage of pain he was eating -- all for this one moment. The opening. The yaw in the technique of his opponent.
Lessons learned from a lifetime of training ring in Rock's ears as all of the damage and punishment his body has gobbled up disappears for the brief flash of time. It's almost second nature, almost instinct, by this point. He could no sooner capitalize on the opening than he could stop hating his father for killing his mother.
The kick comes low and Rock's muscles snap to life, the ripcord's tension releasing to send him into a concentrated flip over K' as the other guy sweeps his leg. The flip is tight and it brings Rock cycling directly over his opponent's head with an angle that is nearly perfect and true; the full extension of his leg on the tail end of his orbit bring his heel cracking against the back of K's thick skull.
The strike connects, payback for the past five minutes of surprising pain K' has dished out, and K' goes skidding with a wordless snarl. He skates across the ground some distance before he rolls and twists back to a less vulnerable position, getting his hands and knees beneath him enough to brace him to rise slightly. And to lift his eyes towards Rock, who is... not nearly far away enough to fail to tempt K' with a parting salvo.
Hands twitch on the cold floor, the vinyl abruptly heating intensely as a surge of fire bursts to life in the narrow corridor. It flares forwards from K', out towards Rock, but it lacks any focus or coherence. It's simply the blasting last bite of a wolf in a trap, an animal lashing out blindly.
Whether or not it connects, K' won't be doing any more. With a harsh sound that could be somewhere between contempt and amusement, he drags himself to a loose sitting position in the wake of that blast of fire, slumping with his back against a wall and an arm propped on an upraised knee. Maxima will be... somewhat in for a surprise when he gets out of his fight and finds out K' has gone and gotten himself blown up again.
COMBATSYS: K' can no longer fight.
[ \\\\ <
Rock 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Rock dodges K''s Eins Trigger.
[ \\\\ <
Rock 0/-------/---====|
Rock slowly turns his head to eyeball K' over the shoulder, sidelong. It's a good thing he does because otherwise he'd have never realized that the guy had enough left in him for one final assault. Willing himself in a complete mind over matter scenario, Rock drives a foot into the floor and pushes with all he's got left. It's just enough to send him in a dive out of the path of ball of fire.
He doesn't land his dive in any sort of attractive state. Instead, he just lands face first and skids across the floor until he bangs into the row of lockers against the wall again. There's nothing worse than skidding on a tile floor without a shirt on when you've got second degree burns already covering your body. Nothing worse.
Letting out some sort of growling groan, Rock doesn't stand up very quickly after this. He just lets his head spin and prays that the guy down the hall isn't moving. After about a minute, he asks the room. "You still alive?"
K' doesn't look in much better shape than Rock. Slumped there against the wall, tasting blood and feeling it cool and congeal in his hair, down his battered jacket, he takes his sweet damn time in replying. "...Yeah." Barely, anyway. He's on the verge of unconsciousness, willing himself to remain awake if only because it'd be extremely inconvenient for him to pass out here.
There is a long pause, and then a-- from Rock's somewhat unique perspective-- disembodied, heavily-sardonic query of, "Interesting enough for you?"
Rock sits up first and starts hauling himself up to his feet. "Sorry about all this," he says, breaking into a rickity grin; he's going to need to visit his dentist. "But the school of hard knocks doesn't teach multiplication."
Log created on 18:11:26 10/20/2007 by K', and last modified on 23:17:36 10/22/2007.