Description: Objective: Uncertain. Obstacle: Uncertainty. Alias: Aya...? Summary: Ayame is just looking for someone to hurt, that's all there is to it. As if a match made in heaven, Frei looks very hurtable and seems frightfully agreeable to it. Be that as it may, nothing about this strange encounter in a tranquil church yard goes the way the girl thinks it should. Expectations are defied and a offer of friendship extended though he's going to have to get through Ayame's school of hard knocks before that has any chance in hell.
What's that line from 'The Princess Bride'? 'Go back to the beginning, Vizzini said. Fool, fool, back to the beginning is the rule.' In that book the advice was from the wily little Sicilian to his two employees, the swordsman and the giant. Partly it was literal, of course -- when things go sour, let's meet back where this all started -- but it also has a metaphorical sort of meaning too. When things start to go bad, when everything's a little fuzzy, when the plan's not exactly moving the direction you'd hoped, consider the source. Go back to where it all began. Trace a line, find a locus, make a new and better plan. Consider the origins.
To say that the latter scenario applies to Frei right now is a bit of an understatement. Could his life have been turned MORE upside-down lately? Mizuki and her 'cousin' getting into it, Remy attacking him at the YFCC for no forseeable reason, his chance and interesting but also scary encounter with K'... and not the least of all the appearance of his younger brother, who came bearing words of condemnation...
Failure. Disappointment. That's what Kataki called him, interestingly enough echoing words that Kimi had thrown at the monk when they had met as well. And while he seemed to work through it with aplomb, even if a somewhat *nervous* aplomb, those words were like shrapnel from the grenade burst of those two individual's feelings. That there was a grand design, that there was an undeniable good, that there was a single truth... that Frei had missed it, that he'd gone the wrong way. That everything he'd done had been in vain.
It had been some time since the monk had come to this church yard with his Shinto shrine-like straw broom and his wooden sandals and incongruously Asian wardrobe to sweep the steps. For the past few weeks snow had made the point moot. But some unseasonably warm days after Christmas suddenly left the steps cluttered with yard detritus. And after all, the monk needed a place to think, and this is sort of where it all began... with his telling Hotaru about his family, and his premonition of unease, and about why he thinks he might actually be a failure.
By the time he's done sweeping, the sun is just below the late afternoon horizon thanks to winter's short days. The sky is a velvety purple-blue, with enough light to see by but dark enough that the decorate street lights below are starting to flicker on, as well as a bit of light shining through the church's windows. Frei, for his part, seems unbothered by the cold as he sits on the top step, eating steamed sweet buns from a container and, of all things, flipping through one of the church's hymnals with the other. Singing has been a way for Frei to work through his emotions lately; the poor YFCC staff have been subjected to everything from musical theatre to avant-garde hiphop lately. He's not singing now, but rather speaking the words aloud like poetry, as if digesting them, ever the philosopher: "Love divine, all loves excelling, joy of heaven to earth come down..."
In the end, she ran. Violently beating the poor miko to the floor of the YFCC was probably one of the most vicious things Ayame had ever done and one of the very few actions she had ever taken where the motivation wasn't based on any tangible profit but rather a burning desire to prove herself to be right through force even though there was nothing on the table to fight over. But when Alma stepped in, she had no choice but to run. With a touch he tore through her defenses on a level she had come to associate with the number of non-chi based fighters she's fought. After fighting Mizuki she was in no condition to take him down as well. Perhaps another time... perhaps another place.
She had gotten close though. Close to proving her point through force, close to a line she hadn't crossed before, close to taking a life. And for her it felt good. Her way was right and her triumph proved it in her mind. If Mizuki's kindness was so right, why would she have fallen to Ayame's assault? Che. But the girl can only wander outdoors for so long. With the sun falling low in the horizon, she began to consider not trying to hoof it all the way back to Gedo street where her hovel of a studio apartment can be found.
Into the church yard the girl slips. She has no way of knowing at first glance that the old building is no longer actively used for services. A light on at the porch is enough of an indication to her that it will likely make a nice place to get through the cold night ahead.
Hopping over the wall greets Ayame with a strange sight. A traditional, English style chapel with a young'ish looking man who hardly seems to belong there. The incongruousness of it leaves her blinking for a moment before the girl finally starts walking toward Frei, thick soled Doc Martins coming down against the cement walkway leading to the porch. "I could be wrong," Ayame begins, looking up toward the arched bellfry of the chapel, "But you look like you belong somewhere a tad more traditional than this," she notes, hand gesturing toward the building as her gaze falls back to rest on Frei. Her voice carries the very obvious undertone of stating 'You don't really belong here.'
What's a dazzling young urbanite like you doing in a rustic setting like this, he asked. Ayame's question comes at a surprising time, as Frei shoves another sweet bun -- whole, because he is weird that way -- into his mouth and is about to read more hymnal lyrics around said mouthful when the... interestingly dressed young lady shows up. He has no way of knowing, naturally, that she is a recent escapee from the tender ministrations of his teammates and coworkers... not that it would probably make much difference to him in the long run, except that if he DID know, she might get a free sweet bun out of it.
Getting up to welcome company, the red-haired monk grins and picks up the broom, leaning on it somewhat. "How's the old saying go? 'Wherever you go, there you are'." Bringing a hand up, he presses a single finger into the side of his nose, giving that statement some apparent thought before continuing on in that vein. "I guess that doesn't make a lot of sense, does it? How about 'home is where the heart is'? It's the Christmas season, after all..."
There's a moment while Frei stops the conversation entirely to... well, chew the sweet bun. It's either incredibly considerate or incredibly *inconsiderate* depending on your point of view, of course, but for his own preference, he tries not to talk with his mouth full. Eventually, however, if left unaccosted, he grins sheepishly at this... well, total stranger. "I guess you're right. Maybe my Caucasian half might fight in here, but the Asian half would probably be more at home at that shrine across town," he admits with a shrug. For a second, his green eyes are hooded as he thinks about the implications of that. He probably doesn't belong here, no... but he doesn't belong at that shrine entirely either, does he?
Where DOES he belong?
Clearing his throat, he turns his back on Ayame and lays down the hymnal on the top step where he'd been sitting, talking to her over his back. "Of course you don't look like you belong here either, if you don't mind my saying so."
Frei's answers provoke a twitch from the girl, her little jab opening the door to a brief recitation of pithy axioms and simple-minded expressions. Wherever you go, there you are? What kind of dullard actually thought that statement merited voicing in the first place? "Is it," the girl remarks with a half shrug when he mentions the seasonal holiday. Of course she knows, she's done nothing but take advantage of people's charitable nature during this time of the year over the last couple of weeks!
The girl seems to pick up on the conflict between Frei's two racial backgrounds because she jumps on that in a heartbeat, "It sounds like you don't belong anywhere to me," the phrase expressed with the smugness of an implied victory, as if she's 'got one' over on him just by that single observation alone. A small victory shaken when he turns it back around on her.
She hardly looks the church going sort. "Saa..." she replies, acknowledging his comment with a shrug with both of her arms, shaking her head. "Who knows?" There's a pause then, as Ayame considers several possible things she could do next. She could be nice. She's good at playing that when there's something she wants. She could just brush him off and hope he goes back to reciting pages from that book he's put down and leaves her alone. Or she could just be herself.
"Maybe I'm just here to rob the joint." She glances around, hands lowered to rest at her hip before her gaze comes back onto Frei. "After all, doesn't seem to be anyone around but you, and I doubt that would be a problem." She leans her head to the side a little, "Or maybe I was hoping to find no one around and commit an act of completely unprovoked vandalism on this old dump out of a selfish desire to destroy something. I'm definitely not here to sweep the walkways." She smiles unpleasantly, "I guess it doesn't matter much that /I/ don't belong here."
An unspoken '...oh' sort of hangs in the air after that comment. At the very least Ayame's laid it all on the proverbial table, hasn't she? 'I was thinking of defacing this place, that cool?' is not exactly leaving a lot of room for other options, is it? But if she's expecting an impassioned verbal counterassault or, perhaps, a tokusatsu henshin sequence, she gets neither. The girl's offhand comment, not really intended to do more than annoy, strikes him right in the gut. It's almost able to be told from the way he stops moving for a moment, even with his back turned, a twitch of the muscles. A little facial tic, if he were facing her.
But he doesn't do anything else but turn around and sit down, picking up the container of sweet buns and holding it in both hands, the recently-warmed treats still steaming into the air. "Maybe I don't. Or it could be that there's a slightly malleable, roughly 5 by 2 by 2 rectangular chunk of reality where I *always* belong," he counters with a shrug, pointing at his cheek with one hand. "Right here in my own skin. That's what's really meant by 'wherever you go, there you are', you see. That 'place' isn't so important as being comfortable where you happen to be."
There's another silence-filled beat as the monk takes another bun from the container and sets it on the hymnal, before turning back to Ayame. "There's nothing worth stealing unless you're very fond of stained glass or old copies of the Bible, so don't bother with that. I kinda wish instead of doing something silly you'd have a sweet bun instead, though," he adds earnestly, offering her the round wooden box. "I dunno exactly why you'd want to just tear up an old church, but I don't think doing it is going to actually make you feel any better, whereas a good warm sweet bun can do marvels."
The twitch was just what she was looking for, as if provoking and annoying the monk gives her all the short term satisfaction she could want. But by the time Frei has turned around and sat down, he seems to have recovered well enough, much to Ayame's annoyance. He speaks of being comfortable wherever one is and it's the girl's turn to twitch a little, her eyes showing the annoyance she doesn't even try to hide.
"And ARE you comfortable wherever you are?" she snaps back, sounding mildly incredulous. Contentment or comfort are difficult things to find anywhere, in her mind... proposing that they can be found EVERYWHERE strikes the hellion as being a little absurd.
He speaks of the church's valuables, or lack thereof. "Che. No silver ornaments? No expensive goblets? What kind of run down dive is this place?" Her left hand remains propped at her hip while her right arm raises to shrug again, feeling a little disappointed in her results so far. And then he offers the box of sweet buns and the girl hesitates, glancing back and forth between the outstretched food and Frei's expression as if trying to figure out why he isn't addressing her with some kind of malice or loathing by now. Maybe he doesn't think she's serious.
Make her feel any better? Her right hand clenches into a tight little fist as the girl glares at him. What would make her feel better is socking him one for trying to sound so calm and collected. That would put a real chink in his composure, she's quite certain. A fake, she would accuse him of being if she still had words to say to him. Oooooon the other hand, she really is kind of hungry and it's hard to slap away a freely offered sweet bun.
"Che," she says again, left hand extending to retrieve one of the proffered sweet buns from the box. She holds it up in front of her face for a moment. Of course she doesn't think there's anything wrong with it, but that doesn't mean she isn't going to give it a good ol' glare all the same. But that natural desire to consume food wins out in the end, Ayame taking a bite from the bun and chewing silently, brown eyes giving Frei a somewhat strange look - a kind of mixture of antipathy and forced hostility. She doesn't like him in the slightest, but good foot can sate certain other cravings, at least temporarily, such as cravings for violence.
"Not always," Frei says, completely honestly. Why shouldn't he be honest? At least, that's his point of view... a more cynical (and perhaps more realistic) person would certainly find a lot of reasons why he shouldn't discuss his life with random passers-by, but he hasn't given her state secrets, just his state of mind. "But usually. I feel comfortable here because I worked at it, actually. I wanted to know what it was Christians believed that made them the type of people they are." He shrugs, but there's a faint glimmer of a smile as Ayame takes the steamed bun. Well, there's a foot in the door.
Pausing to pick up the hymnal, he stares at it for a moment before giving Ayame a smile that's... wry? Perhaps. "I'm sorry to say this isn't 'Les Miserables', so you're out of luck on mysterious valuables." Or anything else, for that matter. Hotaru said this church was mostly deserted. Why was that... Remembering, Frei's eyebrows go up a bit, and he shares. "Most of the congregation moved to a bigger place in the city now. But I still like the feel of this place. It makes me think there's a lot of memories here from people... they may go to the new church, but their memories are here, at this church."
From the twisted mind of Ayame, Mizuki did even less than Frei to warrant the bloody assault on her earlier in the day. She simply was. The fact that she was a miko just like Ayame had been in another lifetime was enough. Offering sweet buns probably wouldn't have stayed Ayame's hand then. Nothing would have. But Frei buys himself a minute's worth of peace with the offer, it seems, as Ayame chews in silence.
She knows the Les Miserables reference, her mind a trap for details like that, but his wry smile doesn't provoke an amused reaction from the long haired reprobate that remains standing. And then he continues on with talk of congregations, people having moved on their way elsewhere, leaving only traces of themselves behind - memories, as if they were a substance that could linger in the absense of the owner. Delusional speaking of the ignorant. "Nothing lingers, nothing stays behind." Ayame snaps after swalling a mouthful of the accepted sweet bun.
"You're just as bad as any religious fool, lost in myths and make believing there's something special about you, me, or anyone else. That there's forces at work - destinies, higher powers, or just karmic balance." The first indication that things might be going south fast would be when she chucks the quarter of the sweet bun to the side rather than continuing with her snack. "It's all delusional faith placed in fairy tales or made up sacred writ." The second indication that this is probably more than just a philosophical discussion spiraling out of control is when Ayame takes a step forward, closing what little distance existed between them.
Her right hand snaps forward, fingers opening before trying to snap closed on the front of his large shirt, the fingerless, black leather glove creaking in the cooler air as the girl tries to heft the monk up just enough to turn and shove him down onto the damp grass off to the side of the walkway at the base of the porch. "Let's see if you're so comfortable 'where you are' by the time I'm done with you!"
COMBATSYS: Ayame has started a fight here.
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Ayame 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Frei has joined the fight here.
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Frei 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ayame
COMBATSYS: Frei fails to interrupt Quick Throw from Ayame with Fast Throw.
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Frei 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Ayame
There's a brief moment while Frei looks at Ayame in confusion, particularly at her anger, and even more at her denouncement of him as a religious fool. It's a bit like someone pointing to you from across the room and bellowing that his name is Inigo Montoya, you killed his father, prepare to die. "Uh..." And then she's resorting to violence, which while the monk has some passing skill at violence-related activities, tends to catch him by surprise because to him it is somewhere next to 'deploy chaff' on the last resort list.
But he's not a total fool and he knows grappling, so he knows a grip-in-progress when he sees it. Sadly, what he does not know is the right angle to counter it by; Frei had intended to grab the girl's hand, and instead he gets a handful of nothing shortly before Ayame gets a handful of him, and then he gets a faceful of grass and Ayame gets some super and reserve back. Picking himself off the ground, the monk frowns, as if something here doesn't add up, and then looks at Ayame. "You... hmm. Okay." There's a beat. "I am 100% all of those things you said I am. Yep. Absolutely."
Ah hah! So he admits it! Just as Ayame suspected from the start when she first spied him reciting hymns from the book. Who else but some religious nut would be sitting outside an old, no longer used chapel reading hymnals?? His tone might have suggested ironic sarcasm from the monk if Ayame knew him better but the girl is willing to take his confession on face value for now.
"Yeah, thought so," she states, sounding satisfied with how his words match her own rush to judgement. She lets him get up all the same before stepping forward with the intent to continue attacking. She didn't notice his attempt to catch her as being anything other than the flailing of an easy victim. Another solid hit should drive home what she thinks of religious fanatics like himself!
A solid hit that comes in the form of a straight kick with her boot covered right foot, Ayame snapping her leg up with the intent to give Frei a solid shove to his stomach and maybe knock him back down in the grass. "Just get out of here. Scram!" Mean Ayame is claiming this place for herself now!
COMBATSYS: Frei endures Ayame's Light Kick.
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Frei 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Ayame
Well, it kinda works! That must be encouraging. The kick slams home, with a nice thumping sound to accompany the blow, and everything feels pretty much okay about it, except for two facts. One, the monk didn't try to move away from the attack, and two, he didn't move AFTER it either. Instead he just stands there with Ayame's foot in his tummy, looking some strange combination of perplexed and even a little sad. Despite the youthful cast of his features, there is a look to the wide green eyes that gives the impression of... well, age.
"I'd rather stay," he says with a shrug, flexing the fingers on his right hand, which flicker with orange-red light. Maybe if she thought she was taking her anger out on some poor schmoe, Ayame is in for an unpleasant surprise indeed. "I like it here. But if you need to work out your issues, then by all means, feel free, but..." And then he brings his hand forward at point blank range, the sunny glow coalescing into a spherical burst of chi at point blank range. "...I'm a human being, not a punching bag."
COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Ayame with Hizashi.
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Frei 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Ayame
Ayame isn't sure what she wanted. If Frei really were some helpless shmuck, she probably would've hit him a couple more times then got bored. On the other hand, having him attack back makes things more interesting to her. She isn't a girl that thrills for the fight like many a fighter, with a burning spirit that can only be sated. But she likes proving herself better than someone else, and if they don't fight back, she already considers it a foregone conclusion!
Frei looks... well, disappointed is the emotion she picks up on. She's not sure why. Did he think she was nice? Nothing about anything she said would suggest as much. Maybe he hoped with his clever talking or upfront honest about his beliefs he'd keep her from wanting to lash out violently?! Hah! The girl only takes heart to think that she's ruined his day, that's just what she wanted in the first place.
But then he steps forward, bringing his hand up and Ayame senses the build up of chi. Now there's a shock, somoene actually attacking her with an energy she's familiar with! An attept is made to step back out of range of Frei's attack, but Ayame is caught by the orange chi burst, driving her backward a little with a bit of a grunt. Maybe she's just feeling a little slow after beating on Mizuki some, Ayame dismisses the slipup quickly.
"Chi, huh? Such a cheerful color." Now that she knows she's dealing with someone who, if not formally trained, is at least able to defend himself, the girl changes tactics a little. She lost one of her knives back at the YFCC, but her left hand finishes out a butterfly knife from her belt. Trusty #2. There's nothing cheerful about the glinting blade she brandishes now. Truly a hooligan.
"I know how to deal with people like you!" she insists, leaning forward to close the distance, giving it some speed as she swings the knife out in her left hand, aiming to simply slash across his torso a little above his waist. Nothing like showing the cheerful sorts some of their own blood to get them to run away scared!
COMBATSYS: Frei interrupts Quick Strike from Ayame with Hyoushou Rengeki.
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Frei 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Ayame
"You say that," Frei says carefully, watching Ayame move, "but I don't think it's as true as you think." There's the knife, and now everything is a little bit different. A whole torrent of possibilities as to Ayame's identity flickers through Frei's mind now, considering he felt her earlier comments were, well... bravado, coming from a troubled teenager wearing too much black. Now she has a knife, and now she's angry for some reason, but worst of all now she's completely misread the monk, which may prove to be her undoing.
While he hasn't held one in some time, buried somewhere in Frei's muscle memory is a lifetime of training with the blade. His body moves almost instictively as the girl slashes at his torso, twisting to minimize the surface area she can cut at while he gathers chi of an entirely different color in both hands, this time a shimmery blue-white. The knife strikes, slicing a line of red through the russet brown of Frei's qipao shirt, but it's not enough to stop his momentum; pivoting on one foot, he thrusts both hands at Ayame, palms out, and blasts her a second time at 'melee range'... this time with a burst of frigid ice crystals. Tis the season.
Stumbling backwards from that confrontation, he winces and puts a hand to his bleeding side before giving Ayame a calm expression. "You don't know how to deal with people like me. You don't know any people like me, if your list of grievances from before is any indicator. But you appear to have some issues you want to work out, so paint me any way you want. If it helps you, I can shed a little blood, I guess."
This time Ayame is knocked clean off her feet, dropped onto her back on the grass, arms spread out at her sides as she tries to catch herself before sliding too far. That's twice in a row now. No matter how she looks at it, she's forced to regard him as better than she had thought at first glance.
She's down for only a second, sitting up then pushing herself back to standing, regarding Frei coolly. He handled the knife well and while she would like to assault him with both her knives to see how he copes with strikes from two directions at once, she's missing one of them and she's never felt her punches strike hard enough to be worth throwing out unarmed.
Her hand comes up to her chest, brushing away the remnant of ice crystals still clinging to her and her mind registers something. His two chi attacks weren't simply just two different colors, but rather drew from two different elements entirely! That makes this stranger different from every other fighter she had ever faced. Two elements responding to his control. WELL. She isn't going to get shown up like that!
The knife gets flipped closed and slid back into its sheath. She cut him with it, but it wasn't anything like what she had had in mind up front. She'll show him chi manipulation! Her left hand slips into a pouch affixed to one of her belts, drawing out a half-foot metal tube. A hydraulic hiss and the sound of oiled metal scraping against metal accompanies the expansion of the tube into a full length staff.
"So you're saying I'm wrong about you, after all that flowery talk about being content wherever you are or enjoying the memories of people that aren't even here. Hmph." But while she talks, she's also focusing, channeling energy into that metal staff of hers. One end is smudged with blood long since dried. She hasn't cleaned it off yet. A blue aura courses along the weapon. It looks cold to the touch - icy blue, a faint mist of fine energy particles rising up off the weapon. "You're nothing special."
And then Ayame is back on the offense, using the weapon that's a lot harder to ignore than the knife was. Swinging at Frei from one side then the other, aiming for his upper arms or an upward swipe into his ribs if he leaves them exposed to being struck. And with each impact the blue energy sparks, sending particles into the air that drift slowly down around the two. While the energy looked cool in color, there's nothing chilling about the blasting impacts, each one resonating with pure force.
In the end, the girl jabs the weapon outward, like a lance, aiming to give Frei a nice prodding in his stomach. "Maybe I want more than just a little blood!" the girl shouts out in the midst of the assault.
COMBATSYS: Frei blocks Ayame's Requiem For Fallen Blossoms.
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Frei 0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0 Ayame
That was a bit of a test, on Frei's part. She might realize it, she might stop, they might talk it out. There's sweet buns left. But Ayame did not... she fell back, she drew a new weapon, she kept it going. And while he might not admit it to himself, dealing with this sudden, angry, violent girl is an experiment for Frei in... well, dealing with his brother, who seemed to have a similar if more cheerfully delivered chip on his shoulder. Why choose the negative path? Why would anyone go that road, choose to tear things down instead of build them up, choose to wall themselves off instead of reaching out...
Well, Ayame IS reaching out. With a chi-charged quarterstaff, in fact. However, on the defensive the monk is no slouch. Even as the powerful blow swings toward him his arm drops to his side, intercepting the strike... and if Ayame looks close, she can see a silvery glow around his arm as Frei does so as well. It may look like ice, but you need negative yin energy to meet that concussive force. The blow still rings out and Frei winces a bit, but he's saved the full punishing strength of it.
However, he doesn't attack back, for the moment. Instead he smiles earnestly at Ayame. "Whatever view you have, is your view. It's not 'wrong' because, well, it's how you see things... but I don't think you know enough about me to make a convincing claim on the things you have. And that was a neat trick, with the staff. Inventive." It's a genuine compliment, though it might not sound that way to Ayame...
The air around the monk shimmers briefly, as if through distant heat haze, as he centers himself, letting his chi resonate.
COMBATSYS: Frei gathers his will.
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Frei 1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0 Ayame
Frei's defense against the strikes is solid and Ayame backs off finally. She saw the small bursts of chi helping fend off the force of her strikes. His control over the energy is not only varied but precise as well, and that realization leaves her somewhat disquieted. Who is this nobody that he can do that? And why is there no anger? She's tried to slash and bash him and he responds simply by saying it's all right, that her views are hers and that's all right. No pretentious lecturing, no argument about how she's wrong.
The blue aura coursing over her weapon fades as Ayame backs up, becoming mist as it rises up on the weapon before disappearing entirely. Channeling chi into the polearm is an exhausting exercise for her, and it isn't the first time today she's done it. His compliment provokes a twitch in Ayame's mouth as she's left uncertain how to take it. Nothing about Frei suggests he's being sardonic about her technique, which is why she just bites her tongue instead of assuming the worst. She isn't going to say thank you though!!
Instead she seems far more interested in what he's /doing/ rather than saying. The energy around him looks palpable, as if having taken on a barely tangible form. But he isn't using it to attack, but rather channeling it up around himself. That's the second time she's seen someone do that today. The poor miko at the Youth Center was doing likewise. "What are you doing?" comes the blunt, simple, perfectly honest question.
And for his trouble? A brief reprieve with Ayame not pressing the assault for a moment. She's starting to feel worn out. This hasn't been a pleasant day.
COMBATSYS: Ayame gains composure.
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Frei 1/------=/=======|====---\-------\0 Ayame
What is he doing? He's beating up a little girl, though 'beating up' is sort of relative in this case where the fighters are more or less evenly matched. He's having a civil conversation (well, trying) with someone who has at least twice just now tried to either cut him open or smack his brains in. It's certainly just another night for Frei, though this is probably approaching Twilight Zone level for poor Ayame. But something in the monk's perceptive eye says she's got other aims in mind with that question.
"I presume you're not asking a sort of broad metaphysical question," the green-eyed fighter says with a faint smile. He's still not attacking; hey, if she's not gonna, neither is he. Some part of Frei is on autopilot anyway, downshifting into professor mode. "Chi is all around us. Some of it's in our body, but most is just... there, in the world. I was drawing synchronicity between my chi and the chi around me, so I could use it more effectively when I need it..." He pauses, then rubs the back of his head in... embarrassment? "Sorry, that's the Star Trek-sounding explanation."
COMBATSYS: Frei gains composure.
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Frei 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Ayame
Ayame is quiet as Frei speaks, only the sound of her panting for breath can be heard from her direction. It doesn't seem like she was just stalling. If anything, she's holding herself back against her better judgement. She's never given an opponent a break like this before once getting it in her head that she wants to make them hurt. Normally she's tenacious, fighting, swinging, slashing, lashing, until they drop or she runs. But Frei is far from normal in her book.
"I see." the girl states, furrowing her brow as she holds her weapon up in front of her horizontally, focusing a second time to channel energy into the staff. She thought she knew everything there was to know about chi and the manipulation thereof, but having observed Frei in action tells her that there's even more to discover. But she isn't out of 'tricks' either, and she isn't done with him. Not yet.
This time the energy coursing over her weapon is a dark green hue. Where the blue hue had been almost 'evaporating' off the weapon into a mist, the green energy clings tightly to the staff, forming a thin, almost opaque coating over it. Ayame's arms tremble a little as the weapon begins to weigh more than it normally does. "That answer will suffice for now," she states, as if her own way of warning him to be ready.
And then she charges forward again, pouring more chi into the titanium pole. Over the thin, green coating a flickering, dancing red eminates, flaring up at the ends of the weapon as if maybe mimicking fire. There's precious little time to admire the light show though because in the next instant, Ayame is upon him, slamming the staff out hard toward Frei's throat.
And given the chance, she'll follow up the slam by flipping up and over him, landing behind him with her back to his, pulling hard on the weapon in an a very unfriendly attempt to strangle him. Contact with the staff is dangerous as well, as the red chi will sear on impact.
COMBATSYS: Frei endures Ayame's Midsummer Fantasy.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Frei 1/------=/=======|=====--\-------\0 Ayame
The colors interest him. Poor Ayame, for now she has awakened Frei's interest. Her terse 'warning' actually makes him laugh a bit as he shakes out his hand. Well, she wants to keep going... that's fine with him. Maybe she'll be a little less grumpypants after a few more bouts. "Alright," he says, Mister Agreeable. Tell me how you're doing that! Okay. Lemme stab you in the face so I feel better! Okay. It's like battling a Care Bear. He watches the sudden 'sheathing' with chi like a hawk, an uncharacteristic sharpness of vision and perception that is in total disharmony with his otherwise rumpled appearance.
A little thought bubble pops up, of Kentou wondering why different chi is different colors for different people. Good freakin' question!
With snakebite speed, the monk snaps a hand around the staff's end, and this time the haze around his hand a little more complex: an outer coating of shimmery blue for the fiery red, with a little swirl of purple behind it that doesn't seem to be there for anything but looks? Perhaps. However, just catching the staff isn't the end of Ayame's technique, by a long shot; the monk's palm is as good a launch point for the impromptu pole vault as his neck was, sending Ayame overhead and Frei to the ground... but as Ayame is standing, so too is Frei, having the benefit of time to position himself a little better. Turning, the blue glow is gone... but the purple remains, entirely revealed to be... well, lightning, which Frei attempts to drive home by trying to grab Ayame by the shoulder and, well... taser her, then shove her off balance, if he can get the grip to do all that. "I think I've got some questions for you, too!"
COMBATSYS: Ayame dodges Frei's Charged Throw.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Frei 1/------=/=======|=====--\-------\0 Ayame
She doesn't echo his laughter, her expression having become intense curiosity, like a student trying to puzzle out a difficult exam question or a lab assistant trying to make sense of confusing test results. His use of energy to defend himself against the chi coursing along the weapon is observed and while she goes through with her intended sequence all the same, she realizes that all in all Frei weathered mostly unaffected.
Coming down behind him she finds the monk turning to reach for her shoulder, his hand still controlling that violet lightning he seeks to get a grip with. Leaning back she manages to avoid his hand while not losing much ground in the process.
"What makes you think I would answer anything you have to ask," she snaps back, apparently not one well versed in 'give and take' or 'The Golden Rule'. Though there's a certain petulance to her tone that almost suggests she's just trying to be /difficult/, rather than outright refusing to answer questions.
The red energy on her staff flickers out followed by the green shell cracking, green flakes of almost solid-like energy drifting toward the ground beneath the weapon, fading out before they quite reach the grass. When the girl swings the weapon in next, it's to plant it against Frei's shoulder as if simply to restrict his freedom in movement so that she can step in with a raised knee she targets his chest with as she gets in real close.
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Frei with Light Kick.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Frei 1/----===/=======|=====--\-------\0 Ayame
She's quick, apparently, though she's a wiry young thing so that's not exactly unexpected. The monk moves to block the staff swing, which was exactly the wrong thing to do: for starters, it wasn't the real attack, and secondly it turns so that rather than a knee to the stomach, which might not be so bad, it's a knee right into his already-bruised side, which is worse. The green eyes squint shut with pain as Frei pushes back from Ayame; he's too sturdy to be bowled over, but he felt that for sure.
But he's still smiling afterwards.
"Nothing. But you might. Asking opens the door; you can either walk through or not at your leisure," he says simply, cupping his hands to his sides. Between his palms, a swirling orb of white-ish power starts to gather, trailing tendrils of multicolored energy. "You used... earth, I *think*, to weigh down the staff, and then fire to give it extra kick, while the heavy earth chi gave the swing greater kinetic energy. Right? It's pretty ingenious, I'm glad I got to see technique like that." And then without further ado, he thrusts both hands forward in the traditional manner, heels of his palms touching, and the swirling mass of energy becomes a person-high shockwave of pure, destructive chi, a little technique he learned called; "HADOOOUKEEEEEEN!"
COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Ayame with Hadou Souran.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Frei 1/-======/=======|=======\==-----\1 Ayame
Her knee strike serves to force space between them and Ayame gives Frei a moment rather than pressing her attack. Maybe she's curious about his answer or maybe there's a need to get her breath back after her previous acrobatic attack and expenditure of chi.
And his answer proves that he's observant. Perhaps moreso than nearly any opponent she's fought lately. Energy begins to collect in his hands as Frei adopts a posture that Ayame might be familiar with if she spent much time fighting the Ansatsuken masters and imitators out there. But she still understands the gist of it as power builds up, becoming a bright white.
"Something like that," the girl replies, sounding hesitant to elaborate. The large pulse of propelled energy might have something to do with it though. Caught flat footed, the younger fighter brings her arms up in front of her, gripping her staff but not really using it for defense now as she tries to fight against the inquisitive monk's energy with her own internal energy manipulation only to find it rather overwhelming.
Blasted off her feet by the force, Ayame falls backward into a tumble, coming up into a crouch a few yards back. Exhaling with a gasp, she pushes herself up to standing slowly. That was a pretty solid hit. Maybe she thinks it merits a response - as if shows of power were currency by which information could be bought in her very strange view of the world.
"It isn't quite that," she admits, speaking just loud enough to be heard, giving information about a side of herself she's told absolutely no one before. "I can't do what you can do... Not quite mimic the elements... but... some of their essence, yes, I can kind of do that and combine them." Frei has shown her he can create shards of ice. She can force red, hostile energy to dance almost like flame. There's a significant gap between their levels of control no matter how she looks at it. And that he has used energy manipulation to defend himself has her thinking hard as well. He makes it look so easy. But the thought of expending the effort it takes for her to control energy just to defend herself seems like a losing proposition to her.
"Chi responds to personalities and moods, emotions and passions, like a living thing. By concentrating hard, forcing different attitudes or certain sentiments to the forefront of my thoughts, I can manipulate its characteristics a little..." She shakes her head, looking Frei over. Nothing about him suggests intense concentration. If anything he seems to be in a permanent state of curious amusement, dealing with her attacks and flinging his own without an outward sign of any care in the world. She forces chi to do what she wants by sheer force of will at great cost, he... he just seems to have the stuff pouring out of his loose jacket sleeves.
But maybe information comes at a price as Ayame tightens her grip on her staff, charging forward to close the distance between them, deciding to exact that price with some more smacks! A leap into the air into a twirl results in the metal weapon spinning out from her side with a fair amount of force toward Frei's upper left arm. The moment her feet touch the ground, she whirls around one more time, moving her staff up over her head to spin it along with her before swinging it down hard toward his left shoulder.
COMBATSYS: Frei interrupts Medium Strike from Ayame with Fukami Reikai.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Frei 0/-------/-----==|=======\=======\1 Ayame
The reaction Frei has seems so... mixed.
The first thing he does is snap out a hand at snakebite speed and grab the staff. That's it. There's a dull *whump* as it snaps into his palm and into his grip, but in the end the attack doesn't seem to have the desired effect... and while Frei's offensive technique may be shoddy, his defensive abilities are top-notch. But he's *still smiling*, even through the pain of pulling a ninja defense on the poor girl. "That's awesome. You know, I feel exactly the same way. That sort of thinking is exactly what I do. You're amazing!" And it really does sound sincere coming from him, against all probability.
But woe betide anyone who thinks that he's forgotten this is a fight, or that the girl came here with ill intent. Usually after throwing out his own Hadouken he lets the power that goes into it die away, since it takes focus to do. Sometimes, however, it pays off to let the focus linger, and this is one of those times. Even as he keeps that firm grip on the staff, the opposite hand comes up, glowing with that same rainbow of color. "I just hope we can be friends after this," he adds somberly, before bringing his closed fist up and opening it. The color vanishes, just as Frei lets go of the staff... the air between the monk and his assailant explodes in a wall of invisible force at point-blank range. To what is sure to be his chagrin later, a corner of the concrete step he was standing on cracks, then crumbles from the backblast.
When all is said and done, Frei brings his hands together, then pushes outward with a slow motion, just like a tai chi hand push, his eyes open.
Caught mid-spin by her staff being stopped short, Ayame can't even correct for it by trying to rebound back in the other direction as Frei's grip is surprisingly firm given his stature and easy going nature. All that conflicting inertia in her body really leaves the girl struggling to recover control over her balance and she's not letting go of that titanium pole either, clinging to it even though it puts her at a disadvantage for a critical moment.
"And you're crazy," she snaps back in response to his open compliment at her statements concerning chi control. Recovering her balance, the girl can more than sense the spike in power in Frei's other hand, the swirling colors of all hues building up. She needs to get away from that, but she isn't leaving her staff behind! Ayame's boot clad foot comes up, intending to slam against Frei's chest in a last second bid to pry her weapon free from his grip, but it isn't in time.
Seeing is not necessary for feeling, as Frei proves with the invisible blasts the girl at point blank range at the same time giving releasing her staff just like she had hoped - see how accommodating he can be?! Ayame might be thinking otherwise as she slams back against the sturdy wall of the enclosed property a split second later, eyes wide as she tries to comprehend the magnitude of that single strike. She isn't too shabby at rolling with traditional energy blasts, but that was more than enough to defy defending against.
Sliding down to her knees, the girl drops her staff for a moment, hands pressing against the cool earth for support. Ugh. Friends, huh? Right now she's thinking about how much she'd like to smack the cheer right out of him. It probably doesn't help that she doesn't really think she has a friend in the world. Probably has something to do with her generally charming disposition.
"Lucky hit," she growls, hand snapping out to her side to seize her staff, pushing herself back up to standing with a forward stumbling run that recovers a little as she spans the distance between them. Her staff out at her side, the long weapon is coated with a blue, chilly looking aura once again, some of the chi rising up off it like vapor. But it's cover for another essence that Frei might not notice until Ayame is in close - a purple hued cloud around the tips of the staff - Maybe she's trying to get around those tricky chi defenses of his by leaving it less clear what she's focusing on?
Of course there's the matter of delivery as Ayame stays grounded this time, having found aerial techinques failing horribly against Frei's defenses. This time all of the movement is in her staff rather than her body as the girl swings one end from low to high toward his chest before stepping forward and swinging up to strike the same point of impact with the other end of the staff, only to end by slamming the entire weapon out horizontally against his chest to try and drive Frei back a little.
Unlike the explosive nature of some of her other energy strikes, the violet hued energy, should it connect, seeps in beneath the skin, attacking and disrupting the very flow of chi within Frei's body on a small level.
COMBATSYS: Frei blocks Ayame's Requiem For Fallen Blossoms.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Frei 0/-------/----===|=======\=======\1 Ayame
Much to Ayame's credit, he *doesn't* notice until it's much too late. Theories as to why are varied, but the one Frei himself would endorse is that it's a bit like shining a bright light in your eyes: the explosive afterburn of expending that much power in a single go leaves you with 'bright spots' in your vision, as it were. Of course, there's also the fact that Ayame's skill at deceptive tactics and tricky techniques is excellent, and a straightforward moron like Frei isn't thinking sneaky in the first place.
But being smacked in the face with a stick, that he can understand and, naturally, wish to avoid. Used to defending against weapons with his bare hands, it's no surprise that Frei goes to push away parts of the leading strikes with his forearms... but the second the first one hits, his brow knits. Ayame is certainly skilled enough to hide the violet-hued chi on the strike, but once it connects, there's no way to disguise it. Thus the physical attack has to take a backseat to a sudden and somewhat hasty defense on Frei's part: the crossbar horizontal strike slams into his chest, sending him stumbling backwards and onto his backside. Interestingly, however, once the space is vacated of actual *people*, there's an interesting sight: orange-red and violet sparks that twirl around each other in the air, then disappear with a little *pop!* noise.
Getting to his feet, the monk brushes himself off, then puts a finger to his lips in thought. "Hey, interesting," he murmurs. That's a trick he also knows, though it takes him considerably more effort and power to pull it off. "Pretty slick. And yeah, it might have been a lucky hit, and you're not the first nor will you be the last person to call me crazy," he admits, turning the green-eyed gaze to this young woman with a faint smile. He doesn't attack; instead he watches. She's taken kind of a beating; maybe she'll beat feet. He'd like that, but he's not stupid enough to expect it. "But if crazy is what I am, then I'm not going to fight it. Why should I? It liberates you from convention and you get a convenient excuse. 'Why are you dressed like a starfish?' 'Oh, I'm crazy.'" You can almost see him saying, behind his eyes, 'note to self: buy starfish costume'.
"But I meant what I said. I don't hold people's need to work things out against them. If I did I'd be friendless, after all." He could learn a lot from Ayame. Somewhere in the back of his head Frei is wishing Kentou were here to see the young fighter's multicolored chi in action, since he was so interested in that.
She should probably run for it. It makes a lot more sense than wearing herself ragged against Frei's swift and adaptable defenses. All she knows how to do with chi is inflict pain with it. But this easy going monk has time and time again demonstrated another use for that power - a sort of active defense, negating energy with energy, a technique that works particularly well against her constantly shifting tactics and tricks.
Her final slam drives Frei backward and the girl is left with a view of whirling chi, residue from his defense against her attempt to slip in something sneaky beneath his remarkable chi manipulation. The young man has a chance to get back up to his feet as Ayame slows to a stop, reaching her limits with that attack. She's quiet, panting for breath, taking in as much of the cool air into her lungs as possible as the colors fade from her staff - the blue evaporating away like mist and the violet congealing almost like a fluid and dripping from off the bottom end before likewise vanishing.
The disturbing thing is she thinks he makes a lot of sense. Convention is constraining, artificial limits placed on individuals by the whims of society. Of course, Ayame decides to do different things to flex her 'freedom' than Frei does, but she can at least understand where he's coming from in that regard. And he's so accepting of her intent to harm, to boot. What is it with this guy? He's about as much a pushover as anyone she's ever met, but somehow it doesn't seem to make him weak as she would have expected.
He's holding back for now, it appears, and Ayame tightens her grip on her staff, holding it across in front of her, her knuckles turning white with the pressure applied to the sturdy metal. "I didn't come here looking for a friend!" she growls, teeth gritted. Weird what one finds when they're not looking for it. "Fight me! Don't just stand there yapping!" angry, confused Ayame demands. "I can handle anything you can do! You're not so tough!" Challenging Frei on all the wrong levels, no doubt. "People like you that try to be nice are just compsenating for weakness!" The same accusation she leveled at Mizuki before beating the poor Miko down. An accusation that may feel a bit empty considering how he's proved to be anything but weak.
COMBATSYS: Frei takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Frei 0/-------/----===|=======\=======\1 Ayame
COMBATSYS: Ayame takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Frei 0/-------/----===|=======\=======\1 Ayame
Ah, now we get to the heart of it. A shame that Ayame doesn't mention Mizuki's name aloud, for Frei would almost certainly have something to say about that. But the accusation of weakness... it's exactly what Kataki threw at his brother not so long ago, and it does make the monk's normally unshatterable composure falter for just a moment, the green eyes becoming downcast for just a moment. Weak, a failure, a coward. Normally it wouldn't bother him, but what's been hammering away at Frei's conscience ever since he bared his thoughts to Hotaru and Alma has nothing to do with the insinuations of people like Kimi Kurogami and Kataki. It's the feeling that he IS just running away from a past he wasn't strong enough to reconcile with.
And yet... and yet...
"I am weak," Frei says quietly, bringing his gaze back up to Ayame. He isn't... cheerful, nor is he sad, but he is hardly defeated. Not just yet, anyway. "I've never hidden that fact. People think of weakness as something to be avoided, at all costs, but why should that ever be true? Weakness is the precursor condition to strength. You can't be strong without being weak first. Maybe it's because 'weak' often means 'vulnerable', and human beings love security more than anything else in the world. But I'm not afraid of being weak, or insecure, or vulnerable. 'Not having' has to come before 'having'."
Standing up a little straighter, he *still* doesn't attack... but it's obvious that he's not slacking off, that he's still intent on fighting if he has to. He just refuses to give Ayame what she wants. Sometimes forcing people to deal with their frustration is the best way of getting things accomplished. For a second, Frei's thoughts stray to Tran, a man who suddenly seems very similar to this young girl: alone, angry, thinking the world has something against him or her. Well, this technique worked on Tran too. It got Frei punched through a wall and into a tree and resulted in stitches, but he got his point home.
No growth without sacrifice. No change without risk.
"If you want to fight me so bad, you'll have to do it yourself," he says simply. "And as for not coming here looking for a friend... who ever does that? I'll still be your friend if you let me. It's up to you to decide what you want to do."
COMBATSYS: Frei focuses on his next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Frei 0/-------/----===|=======\=======\1 Ayame
Ah hah. The shift in demeanor in the monk was exactly what Ayame was trying to get all along. Make him miserable, wipe that smile off his face through pain of word or strike. Whatever it takes. Victory at any cost. But... he just agrees with her; his quiet, calm admission weathering the heat of her vituperative remarks fairly well.
He isn't attacking which means she has all the time in the world to catch her breath in spite her demands he defend his 'strength' with aggression, the way she does. But it also means she's quiet but for the heavy breaths as he speaks, voicing a confession of sorts but also offers a lesson in viewing life through the perspective of a different prism than her own.
He offers to be her friend again and Ayame reacts as if insulted, hands tightening on her staff, arms trembling as she clenches her jaw and bares her teeth with a frustrated snarl, "Of course it's my decision. No one controls me," she insists. She's 'free'. Everyone else has their limits, their convictions, their morals. She gets to do whatever she wants. That's the power that comes from being detatched from everyone else. "I have the power to do anything I want. That's the difference."
And then she's on the offense, hefting the light weight but remarkably sturdy staff up in front of her. Frei is making her come to him, and she's now going to comply. Exhausted, hurt, frustrated, angry, the girl isn't exactly attacking with a lot of flair or speed, but rather savage, vicious blows, whirling around to throw her entire strength into each strike. Swing after swing of her staff comes at Frei from different directions as Ayame unleashes nearly every angle of staff manipulation she knows. Some from low to high, aiming to clock him in the chin. Some from high to low, trying to hook around a knee from behind and shatter his stance. Some are straight jabs while others are full bodied slams from the side. If he's looking for an answer to whether she thinks he might be a friend, this might be it.
COMBATSYS: Frei endures Ayame's Deep Strike.
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Frei 0/-------/--=====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Ayame
Again and again the staff slams into Frei's body, and while he's put up a commendable defensive effort that doesn't mean that Ayame hasn't landed a number of telling strikes on him *already* in the course of this little tete-a-tete. Perhaps with some irony, the church carillion must have just hit the hour; the metallic ring-thump of the staff frenzy connecting over and over on a seemingly unresisting Frei is drowned out by the tolling of the bells, a rich and penetrative sort of sound, especially since the two fighters are so close to the actual building.
The final strike is swung out as the last bell rings.
However, it would appear the young lady hasn't downed her opponent entirely, or at least, not yet; as the staff is swinging back he once again catches hold of the end, looking at Ayame with an even expression, one bruised eye shut to keep a small trickle of blood from his forehead out of it. She did some serious damage there, and somehow he's still on his feet. "That's right. Nobody controls you but you. But you're not controlling yourself right now, are you? You're angry, and hurt... you're lashing out in the hopes it will make you feel better." He grins a little. "Well, did it? Is everything better now? Because if it's not, I'm going to feel extremely stupid having let myself get the tar beaten out of me to help you." Was he shamming this entire time? Or does he have some other bizarre motive?
He lets go of the staff, perhaps giving it a little shove that might send Ayame off balance, but little else than that. "You can beat me, you can even kill me if you want. I can tell you a couple good places since you've got a good sharp knife, or you could just crack my head open with the staff. But killing me's not going to undo anything I've said, or anything that's happened to you in your past, or whatever's making you angry right now. Friendship *might*. It's not perfect. It's got problems." There's a pause while he clears his throat, a little raggedly, before continuing. "That's what I mean by it's 'your choice'. But before you decide, think about what I've said."
COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Ayame with Fast Throw.
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > /// ]
Frei 0/-------/-======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Ayame
Slam after slam, the girl putting all those techniques her father to use in a way that would break his heart if he knew. The bells resonate over the courtyard, chiming out the hour. Their music is almost hypnotic in nature - it's no wonder so many, including the quiet mannered Futaba girl, find tranquility here. Not even the broiling anger trapped within the frustrated girl can quite overcome that - though she thought she'd love to try.
She slows eventually, giving Frei the chance to catch hold of the metal weapon and stop it short once again. From the other side of the staff the girl glares at him, almost seeming to focus on something beyond him rather than the monk himself. Gasping for breath, sweat rolls down her cheeks and temples even with the chill winter's hair. The shove knocks her back just a little, Ayame's foot coming down behind her, catching her balance, keeping her from falling just yet.
There's a snarl, the well spoken if horribly ill-mannered demeanor from before lost in the outrage she seems to take at his continued calm, compelling invitation to accept his offer if /she/ decides to. "Then let this be my answer," comes the girl's voice, apparently having not taken a whole lot of time to 'think it over'.
Rushing forward, Ayame's left hand snakes out with the last of her strength, attempting to grab a hold of Frei's jacket up near the top and twist her grip on it to hold him in place...
COMBATSYS: Ayame can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Frei 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Frei with Quick Throw.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
[ \\\\\\ <
Frei 1/-------/=======|
All his efforts might have been for nought. The instant Ayame has that grip, she's on him, pulling the monk and herself together with arm strength alone so that she can drive her knee up into his stomach. Her left hand releases his shirt immediately after the moment of impact, shifting instead to grip at his neck. "It will probably be hard for us to be friends when you're dead," comes the girl's apparent answer, her voice weak, coming out between pants for breath. "Hopefully for your sake there's someone who will care, someone to mourn the loss..." Her hand isn't large and there's definitely far worse grips to be caught in, so he's probably not going to suffocate that way. But it's enough to hold him where she wants as Ayame lifts up her staff with her left hand.
Extending her left arm to hold him out at arm's length, she grips her staff in a position that almost makes it seem more like a spear, one end of it raised up in the air behind her, the other tip pointing toward Frei as her hand holds it near the center. One final surge of red energy courses along the length of the weapon, flickering like flame. But if he thinks she's going to spear him with simply chi, he has something else to consider a few seconds later as from the tip pointed down toward the center of his chest three long blades slide out from it, rotating into positions ninety degrees from each other, forming a small sharp bladed cross. Ironic, given the setting.
The red energy along the weapon begins to coil almost as if forming two serpents spiraling out just past the blade pointing straight out of the tip where the seperate coils form a point that looks almost like a red, energy drill head. The muscles in her arm tense as Ayame pulls back on the chi laced lance, drawing it up a little higher, readying for the chest skewering, potentially fatal strike to wipe the world free of one happy go-lucky monk, taking with him his philosophies, his knowledge, his cheer, his outlook.
But it's then, with the killing strike lined up for one Final plunge into the young man's chest... it's then and there that Ayame pauses. Few know just how sharp her memory is. Given her propensity to keep the true nature of her talents a mystery, almost no one would know that it is with flawless recollection that she can recall every conversation she's heard, line by line. For how she seems to never listen to anyone, it'd probably somewhat hard to believe!
But it's in that pause that she finally /really/ listens, thinking about his words - The words she intend to make his final utterances if possible. Everything she did to him... Ayame has never related to people well - that goes without saying, but her skill at manipulating others comes from at least understanding what usually makes people tick, which buttons to push to get them to act the way she wants. But nothing she's done to Frei has made him behave the way she wanted; nothing has provoked the despair or misery she wanted him to feel. The young man just doesn't make any sense on any level. Crazy, she had called him, and crazy he had called himself. Maybe that's all there is to it. Or maybe there's something more.
The red, broiling chi heating her staff up to the point that the metal near the ends begins to glow starts to flicker, losing its churning, serpentine form. Slowly it blurs as Ayame focuses on it less and less, until at last the energy collapses, literally falling from the staff into a crimson rain of excess chi that fades from sight before ever reaching the ground.
"You're crazy," the girl states, echoing her assessment of him from before, brown eyes looking deep into his green ones as if trying to see through the mystery that is Frei. The three blades unhitch and retract at the same time Ayame's grip on the monk's neck relaxes, her arm falling to her side. It's almost in slow motion that she lowers her staff as well, the bottom end of it planting against the ground for support as the girl stares back at him, a calm but chill wind tousling her long hair.
It might be nice to say he has 'no fear', but that's a lie. When the proverbial knife is indeed pointed at his throat, when he reaping the whirlwind he has sown, then there is fear. After all, death is the last frontier about which nothing is known, and it's nothing that scares people, even Frei. Some of it is actually anticipatory. Will the afterlife be nice? Or will there be nothing at all? Will he see his deceased father and former master there? Will he have to wait and apologize to all the people he's leaving behind...
The strike never comes, but it doesn't seem to matter. As soon as Ayame's grip isn't holding him up, the monk -- surprisingly lightweight without his willpower driving his body -- tumbles backwards onto the churchyard, on his back, and stays there for some time, staring upwards with glassy eyes. It's not his first brush with death, but there are few. He doesn't like it, not one bit... that's why he got out of the sword-swinging business, why he ran off to another country, why he's thrown everything from his past away. To find a better way of doing things. To get some peace. But sometimes if you want to keep that peace you need to make some sacrifices; you need to remember what the darkness is like if you're striving to find the light.
Eventually, however, he laughs. A ragged sound, all things considered, but it's a laugh. With a rustling sound he laborously rolls over on his side, giving him a look at Ayame through one eye, the other again shut tight and bruised. He doesn't look smug; if anything, he looks amused.
"A little bit. But you have to be... a little bit crazy... to survive in the world today," he admits. A world that's often hard on the people in it, that's unfair and unjust. If you want to get by, you have to liberate yourself from convention, but it's not an easy road. Sometimes... well, sometimes girls show up and beat you up, for example. "I took a gamble, but only you know... if I won or not..." he adds, crossing his arms over his stomach near where Ayame cut his side open before. He's very clearly not getting back up again, for a while. "My name's... Frei... by the way. I'm easy to find."
Closing his eyes, he rolls onto his back once more and... well, prepares to sleep this off, stupid as it may be. "Maybe next time... we'll meet as friends."
COMBATSYS: Frei takes no action.
COMBATSYS: Frei can no longer fight.
It is with a hydraulic hiss that Ayame's staff collapses back down to a half-foot long metal tube. It's her own invention, crazy contraption that it is. A staff, a spear, a conduit for her chi... the current end result of a brilliant mind put to no particularly good use whatsoever.
She's silent as Frei speaks. Frei. A simple name for a man who at first seemed just as simple. But she knows better now. "You can call me... Aya." comes the statement as she turns, her expression a cloud of confusion mixed with coping barely with pain. Meet as friends sometime, eh? The very concept is foreign to her, she can barely understand what it would mean to look at someone as something as other than a victim or someone worth having a mutually beneficial alliance with.
He took a huge risk and he knows it. But as Ayame strides out of the courtyard, she knows he won that roll no matter what anyone thinks. It was her decision to stay the killing blow. Had any number of other things gone even slightly different, that wouldn't have happened - she wouldn't have held back. Crazy. Crazy and lucky, perhaps. "Farewell, Frei," the girl states, her back turned toward him, her head bowed as she finally walks away, hoping she never runs into him again, lest she have to deal with the /confusion/ he causes in her mind.
Log created on 23:20:30 01/01/2008 by Ayame, and last modified on 19:45:09 01/05/2008.