Description: After felling two members of Pacific Resistance, and kidnapping a third, that means there's only one... left. And Schroedinger has no idea what's going on when he decides to leave class early, only to run into WELLINGTON... WELLINGTON!
It's been a long couple of weeks at Pacific High. Ever since school started anew, time seemed to creep on at the pace of a snail. The weather has brought consistent gray skies to the city of Southtown, and today is now different: snowfall drifts in a lazy, swinging motion towards the ground, littering the campus of Pacific High in a thin sheet of cool and lonely white. The courtyard is largely vacant today. Quiet. Serene. Peaceful--
"What do you MEAN I can't leave? You're an ASS!"
*CRACK!*
... Save for the distinct voice of one Luc Schroedinger booming throughout the open grounds.
The young, angry German in question lingers near the entrance to Pacific High, yelling at someone -- a dean of the highschool, wagging a pudgy finger at Luc and -- previously -- demanding that the boy get back to class, as there was still a good half hour before school was over. Luc's response to this was simple enough: a direct headbutt to the dean's face. Now standing over the fallen school staff with an irritable scowl, Luc rubs his forehead, his right hand digging deep into his pocket. "Can't leave school my ass. Trying to tell me what to do. Moron. I -KNOW- when SCHOOL ENDS!"
"Get... back... to class... uuughhh... you belligerent--OOF!"
The dean lets out a mighty exhale as Luc abruptly sees fit to just -walk- over him, polished shoes slapping against the poor man's back and trampling over his head as Schroedinger makes a straight path towards the exit. He takes one step out into the open road, lets out a sigh.
"Belligerent. What does that even mean."
And, that pondered, Luc begins to walk anew.
Surely it hasn't been that long since the commotion that has led to two members of Pacific Resistance enjoying time in the nurse's office, if not the hospital, with the third vanishing altogether. How in touch has the final member of the team been with his cohorts; does he know what's going on, or is he completely oblivious?
The latter may well prove true, but at the least the weather has gotten relatively better. Snow tyres are the order of the day to ensure that even the most pristine of limousines, freshly replaced with the heavily damaged and broken vehicle sent off to the consulate for repairs, can drive unimpeded.
Leaving the classroom behind may have been a wise move for young Schroedinger, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't look both ways while crossing the road. As the youth steps forth once more into the breach, the limousine is heading right for him.
And the driver doesn't slow down.
He's under orders not to, from the man in the back seat.
The license plate of the vehicle is typically Japanese. Squiggly lines and a couple of numbers. Of course, if someone can read the squiggly lines, they read: kenkagoshi.
That's belligerent in the local dialect.
For all the world, Luc doesn't seem to aware of what's going on outside his own affairs. Anyone in Pacific could tell you that Luc Schroedinger doesn't give a rat's ass about anyone besides himself. A selfish, egotistical, stupid, oblivious bully who only pays attention to others when he feels the need to be violent. Whether that's a true assessment is anyone's guess.
The fact that he doesn't really notice the -limo driving straight towards him- seems to point in favor of said assessment, however.
"Wha--"
Luc Schroedinger, in the middle of the road, turns around JUST in time to see the front of a car barreling towards him.
"--fuck THA--"
CRUNCH.
A mass of flailing limbs and angry, German yelling is what the limo's driver gets the moment that he rams into Luc. A sickening crash sends Luc rolling up the hood of the car, his bones feeling as if they just -exploded- in unison. "Guhh--ghnn--" Tumbling up to the hood, Luc comes to an abrupt STOP the moment that he slams his right hand into the roof of the limo, clinging tenaciously to the vehicle as a small line of red dribbles down the corner of his mouth.
"I SAID I'M NOT GOING BACK TO CLASS, YOU STUPID FUCK!"
Apparently under the impression that the school would actually try to RUN HIM OVER with a limo of all things to keep him from leaving school early, Luc's response is ultimately a simple one, like all things in his life: Limbs alight with pain still, Luc's free hand rears up, he PLUNGING into the windshield of the limo. Hand aflame with black-blue chi, he attempts to grip the driver and, well... fling him right out of the car.
"GO TO HELL!"
Luc doesn't quite take into account what happens to cars when they don't have drivers. After all.
Foresight is for chumps and losers.
Suffice it to say, the occupant in the back of the limousine isn't entirely pleased with the sudden crunch of a youth into the bumper and then onto the hood of the vehicle. He's even less pleased when the youth turns utterly belligerent and drives a fist into the roof of the expensive ride.
"No, this just won't do at all," the Duke says to himself, gaze lowering from the fist through the top to watch through the tinted divider as matters... escalate.
The driver, a fine British navy lad, finds his day turning from bad to worse to horrible as that chi-covered hand slams through the glass, shattering it in one impressive punch, and grips the ensign by the collar to drag him right through the opening.
"Yelp!"
There's barely a chance for that surprised yelp before the powerful youth dispenses with the driver, sending him barreling off onto the sidewalk and then promptly into the side of a building.
Immediately, the vehicle begins to meander back and forth sharply, the loss of control quite prompt.
It's all too much for the man in the back seat though. A massive, ham-sized fist barrels through the divider, shattering it in a fine spray as Wellington reaches right on through to make himself known.
In fact, he keeps on reaching, wanting to grab Luc by the scruff of the neck and exact revenge for his subordinate by dragging the boy into the driver's seat. "You ignorant little child, make yourself useful and hit the brakes," he commands, not able to reach them from the back of the limousine.
A wall approaches. Command?
With one thrust, the limo's driver goes airborne, a snort of derision exhaled from Luc as he remains perched atop the vehicle. "... Wait." Something suddenly dawns on him, however, in a rare moment of insight. The vehicle rips from side to side, sending him jerking violently and unsteadily along the top of the car as realization flashes across his mind.
"The school doesn't have LIMOS, what the shit is th--GURK!"
Luc's rare moment of detective-like ingenuity comes to an abrupt end the second a meaty hand takes a grip of him by the neck. His body already burning with pain from being hit by a -limo-, Luc is really in no position to be struggling here. But that doesn't stop him from trying; the German thrashes impetuously, further shattering the windshield as he is yanked -bodily- into the vehicle to come face-to-face with the man behind the man, so to speak. Luc comes to stare at Wellington as soon as he is -dragged- into the limo. A wall approaches. The British man speaks.
"... What the hell? You're not a teacher. You're not even the PRINCIPAL." The limo swerves ever-closer to the wall.
"SO WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME WHAT TO DO, YOU OLD BAG OF SHIT?!"
Without any real knowledge -- yet -- of who this man is, and completely ignoring the fact that they are rapidly approaching a WALL, Luc's reply comes two-fold: that searingly hateful -yell-, followed by chi igniting beneath his feet in a sudden push-off. EXPLODING forward, Luc intends to do one thing: BURST into the passenger-seating, with every intention of just headbutting Wellington with an accompanying surge of burning, blue-black chi.
A wall approaches. Command?
Ignore reason because some jerky old man tried to tell Luc what to do.
Crash... imminent.
COMBATSYS: Luc has started a fight here.
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Luc 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Wellington has joined the fight here.
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Luc 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Wellington
COMBATSYS: Wellington blocks Luc's Fierce Punch.
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Luc 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Wellington
The dawn of intelligence on Luc's mind is entirely too late and a touch too slow; the reaction, after dragging the youth into the vehicle in order to act as an impromptu driver, is just as expected for one lacking in the essential areas of intelligence. Without a doubt, there's smarts in young Schroedinger when it comes to fighting. A natural talent, an explosively creative mind; but how the hell is that meant to help either of them right now?!
The Duke gives his orders in crisp, commanding demand, heedless of the thrashing about that Luc gives. His reaction to the outburst is very simple.
Unfortunately, it's delayed by that meeting of heads, as Luc attempts to extricate himself from Wellington's significant grip.
There's no solid contact with the British man's skull, but rather with his free hand. Still grasping the child by the collar, he absorbs the damage into his sizeable left hand as he bellows back.
"We're about to hit a wall, you impudent little brat!"
There's only one chance left, and even then, they're going to hit the wall anyway; but perhaps they can reduce their velocity. Fingers crook, seeking to dig into Luc's forehead, as he otherwise seeks to use the boy's body since he's too flippant to use it himself.
If he gets a good enough grip, he'll simply crush the German back into the driver's side, in hopes that one of those flailing feet will hit the brake pedal.
COMBATSYS: Wellington successfully hits Luc with Medium Strike.
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Luc 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Wellington
"Get--off--me-- you crazy--old--GAH, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU -- gnhnhhfflk!!"
That would be the sum-whole of Luc's enlightened conversation with Wellington as the limo barrels forward with the screech of tires against concrete, grass, and whatever else it happens to barrel down on its collision course. Luc's head smacks solidly into a meaty palm, his body literally burning with chi for a moment before it is all snuffed out pointedly with the exertion of pressure that Wellington's hands bring to bear. Thanks to the modern marvel of inertia, the limo continues on, its slowing momentum doing nothing to stop the inevitable crash--
--but that's where Luc getting crushed like a can of beer against a raging frat boy's forehead helps.
"YOU STUPID SON OF A--GGRKK!!"
Luc's abrasive insult is cut off prematurely as he is stuffed into the driver's seet, head knocking HARSHLY against the steering wheel with a bony THUNK of impact. It's by sheer miracle that his feet slam down in the process, one crashing into the break pedal with such unintentional ferocity that the wheels of the limo skid, the entire vehicle swerving and veering VIOLENTLY across the road before SMASHING into the side of the wall -- fortunately much less violently than it could have. Glass shatters, metal bends slightly, but the limo comes to a stop... with less damage to it than there would have been if not for the use of Luc as a makeshift tool. The German in question groans, shoving the door of the drivers seat open with a pained sound and spilling -out- onto the ground with a tumble.
"Stupid... ugly... old windbag... gonna... punch you right in the... goddamn face..." And as Luc kneels, he swings -- into empty air, faltering forward and slamming his hand into the ground just moments before facefaulting. Well, that didn't work.
"GET OVER HERE SO I CAN PUNCH YOU!"
COMBATSYS: Luc takes no action.
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Luc 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Wellington
"Blah-blah-blah you children need to learn to talk less and consider proper action in a time of crisis," Wellington lectures as he exerts considerable force, reversing Luc's trajectory to cram the boy back into the driver's side of the vehicle.
Considerably manhandled, the Duke gains no sense of pleasure at having driven the lad's head into the steering wheel. The limousine's horn honks loudly, but the sudden slam of brakes proves to be precisely the true reaction he was after from this impromptu use of mental meats to prevent what could potentially have been both of their deaths.
The vehicle swerves to one side, and thus the Englishman reacts; he releases the boy's skull and grips the door handle opposite to the side of imminent collision.
CRUNCH. It's a sickening smash all the same, but it could have been a lot worse -- a hell of a lot worse.
There's an old saying about any landing you can walk away from, but Wellington isn't the type to make use of adages to get his point across.
What he does do is force his door open and follow Luc's lead, half-falling out of the vehicle. But older and sturdier -- and less struck in the melon -- he pulls himself up, grimacing as he brushes glass from his immaculate dark suit.
Groggily, he rubs his forehead as he half-watches the boy flounder on the floor. What an uncouth little bastard.
"You could do with a stretch in the navy to teach yourself some discipline, Schroedinger," he grumbles the words, fighting a growing headache as he reveals his knowledge of just who this precocious child is.
"I'd suggest you reconsider what demands you make of me though..."
Well if that isn't an invitation for violence in Luc's lexicon, what is?!
COMBATSYS: Wellington takes no action.
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Luc 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Wellington
There are certain things that Luc should pick up on in the course of his descent towards the ground and Wellington's subsequent recovery. One, the crazy old man just called him by name -- last name, but then, Luc's never met him before. Two, this guy who knows his name and is not part of the school faculty just -hit him with a car-. Yet, for right now, neither of these things or the dozens of other clues he should be picking up on cross his mind. Instead?
Instead, Schroedinger is trying to clear his vision. A few brief shakes of his head and a spit of saliva mingled with blood later, and the German punk is bringing himself back up onto his own two feet in a bit of a wobbling stand. Looking a little bruised, but relatively less worse-for-wear than he could be, Luc wobbles, and then squints forward towards the taller, meatier form of Mr. Stranger Danger, aka--
"Who the FUCK are YOU?" Luc finally has the snese enough to question, lifting a hand to scratch a finger at his ear in an annoyed gesture. Yet, there he goes, trying to tell Luc what to do again. The German's green eyes narrow to slits, hands curling up tightly into fists.
"Don't... TELL ME... what to do. And..."
And it's here that Luc leaps straight into the air, going for a lunge towards Wellington's face. Given the other man's size, Luc simplifies the motions of this particular maneuver a little; a single hand lashing out, he seeks to grip Wellington by the head, and then just release a sudden, burning FLARE of black-blue flames outward in an explosive discharge meant to knock the large man off his feet.
"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU TO CALL ME BY MY NAME?!"
COMBATSYS: Luc successfully hits Wellington with Bursting Slam.
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Luc 0/-------/---====|=------\-------\0 Wellington
Well that's always a problem, now isn't it? Children these days are entirely too aggressive for their own good; too much violence on television, thanks to those damnable fighting circuits, and likewise too much violence through video games. There would be sweeping reforms, were Wellington in charge of the youths of Britannia.
Thankfully, that isn't the case. And right now, he has more pressing issues; like this youth who continues to swear, and not only that, he turns hyper-aggressive!
Luc leaps for his forehead, and the hand successfully strikes; the Duke makes no move to step aside, instead allowing distance to be closed. Chi flares, the strike knocking him back into the side of the limousine he's still standing by.
His back arches, and smoke sizzles up from his tanned forehead, but the Brit fails to fall. It's a genetic trait. Plus he has a car to support him.
"I would have thought you'd known precisely who I am, but clearly you haven't spoken to your... friends... at all, have you, boy?" the Duke questions softly, a smirk sliding onto those rugged features of his.
Since the boy is being so very... abrupt, he decides that he will indulge this child. And beat him senseless.
"Food for thought. Let me stimulate that brain of yours."
And to do so, he rather suddenly rips the door that's pressed against him clear off its hinges, a task that's done with remarkable ease. Metal tears away, only to be thrown into quick motion as the Duke lifts it high to smack Luc upside the head!
COMBATSYS: Wellington successfully hits Luc with Crow's Nest.
- Power hit! -
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Luc 1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Wellington
Doesn't get knocked down. Luc pushes off of Wellington the moment the strike impacts, landing only a few feet away to squint pointedly at the large beefy McBeefertonne, Mayor of Meatville. He squints.
"... Heh. This... could be FUN!!"
The conclusion is brought about with another lunge forward by Luc towards the British Duke, chi flaring noticeably around his arms as a simple overflow brought about by his own excitement. This sudden charge, however, is brought to an abrupt stop as Wellington -rips a door- off its hinges and proceeds to use it like a makeshift baseball bat to swat Luc away. Metal impacts straight against Luc's famously thick skull with sudden, jarring force, enough so to take the young man straight off his feet and through the air. Blood spills from his lips as he bites down on his tongue from the sudden and unexpected force, body spinning ungracefully through the cold air. He impacts against the rough ground in a skid, dragging across the earth before coming to a stop several feet from the Duke. There is a long moment of silence as snow begins to fall once more, peppering his dirtied white shirt with their chilling touch.
"... che... 'thtimulate my brain'..." Luc mutters, his injured tongue producing an unfortunate lisp as he drags himself back up. "What doeth that even mean..." Chi still crackles noticeably along Luc's arms, culminating in his right hand. "And what the HELL are you even TALKING about?! EITHER THTART TALKING MORE OR JUTHT SHUT THE FUCK UP, FAT ATH!"
This angry demand is accentuated by Luc's downward -punch- towards the ground. Chi immediately bursts forth in a series of rapid-fire explosions, tearing across earth and concrete in a series of geysers on a collision course -- straight for Wellington. "GRAAAAGH!"
COMBATSYS: Wellington fails to slow Aufruhr Gemetzel from Luc with Ox-Eye.
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Luc 1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Wellington
There's a heavy sigh from the somewhat burly -- but smaller than Preston -- British man after he hits Luc in the head with the door. Standing there, he keeps a firm grip on the rather dented door, intent on using it to further discipline this impudent whelp.
When the boy starts shouting again, he releases another sigh
Already, Wellington is considering this boy to be a lost cause.
What he does know is when he's being insulted though, and that... that he doesn't like, not at all. Thus when the boy punches the earth and it grows with swollen chi, exploding upwards, the Admiral considers his course of action.
Swiftly he spins the door in his grip, lacing it with a white-yellow chi that practically sizzles, the smell of ozone rising in the air as he continues slapping the door as it miraculously floats in the air. Enhancing it with his own signature energy, he gives the weapon a solid punch forward, hoping that the spinning disc of a door will be enough to thwart the impending rush of explosive earth and dangerous chi-fire.
He clearly didn't put enough spin on it. Hardly a cricketer, the door pings off of one of the explosions, stopping THAT one... but the current continues underground anyway, exploding in a rapid series right in front of the figure.
BOOM. Concrete and earth shatter upwards, clumps of grass going with it as the assault catches Wellington despite his efforts. Launched skyward by the blast, he lands on the vehicle, smashing the roof as he descends into a crouch to take some of the brunt of impact away.
That chi hurts well enough.
But already he looks bored. Did Luc say this was going to be fun?
"Kids these days," he mumbles.
Searing fire licks across the ground, melting snow that surrounds the young German as that chi is repeatedly channeled into the earth. It makes short work of the door, and soon digs into Wellington as well, with enough of an oomph to send the large man skywards. Slowly, Schroedinger drags himself up with a distinct frown, lips peeling back into a sneer.
Distantly, the Pacific High student realizes he still doesn't know who this man is, how he knows his name, or how he knows Luc's... friends. Normally he wouldn't care, but--
"Oi. Hey. /HEY/," Luc spits out vehemently as Wellington comes to a landing crouch. "You dumbath, I athked you a questhtion. Thtop thtanding around like a fucking RETARD... and ANTHWER ME!!"
Luc breaks into a run here, rushing headling towards the Duke in a blur of speed, white blending with black as he pushes off the ground in a leap. Blue-black chi flares around his arms in tongues of power as he flings himself bodily towards Wellington, seeking to do little more than tackle into the man with a sudden EXPLOSION of chi that encompasses the German's entire body like a protective sheathe.
"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO BE, AND HOW DO YOU KNOW MY ... MY... THOTHE GUYTH!?"
Which is about the closest anyone would ever get to admitting Luc has friends.
Too bad it's all slurred out in a jumbled, less-than impressive lisp.
COMBATSYS: Wellington fails to interrupt Medium Throw from Luc with Extremis.
- Power fail! -
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Luc 1/------=/=======|===----\-------\0 Wellington
With the boy now operating with a lisp, it's turning increasingly difficult for Wellington to even understand the words that are coming out of that mouth. Thus, he doesn't even try.
Instead the Duke simply remains there atop his vehicle, wondering how he's going to get back to the hotel. He supposes he'll call a taxi; that should work. Although he doesn't care much for the poor attempt by Japanese taxi drivers to converse with him. His understanding of moon speak is remarkably limited.
He supposes, though, that it's better than the alternatively; drivers from further in India, with their odors and their talk of genetics and human potential.
It's the explosion of chi that draws the Duke out of his mental considerations. He sees the boy coming for him, and it all seems like a very, very linear strike. He sees precisely how to turn this attack back on the young German, and show him the error of his ways.
Dramatically though, something goes wrong. Instead of grabbing the boy by the ankle and sending him for a flip, Wellington instead is crashed into by the leaping Luc, and slammed into the brick wall that the limousine crashed into moments prior!
There's a heavy grunt from Wellington. This isn't going right for him at all.
Lisp be damned, Luc is going to kick the crap out of this guy. For one, he's annoying. For two, he only talks when Luc doesn't want him to. For three, well, Luc just doesn't like his face. That smug British face that looks so familiar.
Ten years from now, all the clues might kick in for him.
As it stands, Luc doesn't even realize how perilously close he was to being dealt a mighty painful blow. His fire-encased body SLAMS into the Duke mightily, cracking the larger man against the nearby wall. With a push, Luc shoves himself straight off his enemy and lands on the ground, eyes narrowed and unpleasant, lips twisted into an angry frown. Absent-mindedly, he wipes blood from his lips, spitting more out to the side. And then:
"Jackath. YOU'RE BORING ME!"
This roared out, Luc makes a sudden, sweeping strike. Spinning through the air, his right leg lashes out, encased with chi, aimed -straight- for Wellington's side with all the might he can muster. If Luc can't get his answers through angry demands, well -- the next option is to just KICK Wellington until he starts talking. In Schroedinger's mind, it's the natural progression. Besides...
... He's angry.
"GRAAAAAAAAAGH!!"
COMBATSYS: Wellington endures Luc's Medium Kick.
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Luc 1/------=/=======|====---\-------\0 Wellington
That the boy is angry is of no matter to Wellington. The Duke stands tall and erect as the youth leaps off of him and returns to the ground. Still atop the roof of the second limousine that's been totaled since he landed on this godforsaken country, he watches as that anger boils to the fore.
Once more, Luc leaps forth. And once more, the British man fails to move aside.
The kick hammers into his side, and there's a sudden grunt as the extra chi that encompasses the strike digs into his body. "If you're bored, then consider walking away," Wellington finally breaks his silence, as his arm loops around the offending leg.
Rather than let the hammer fall on the exposed leg, he instead takes a good grip on the heel of Luc's polished shoe -- and then seeks to flip him backwards, to expose him in mid-flight.
If it gets that far, it will be the knuckles of the Admiral that will be the German's major concern; he drives forward, seeking to plow the row of tightly grasped bones deep into the back of the skyward boy, to send him for a significant tumble. His slide takes him forward either way, leaping from the limousine.
COMBATSYS: Luc endures Wellington's Act of Grace.
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Luc 1/-======/=======|=====--\-------\0 Wellington
Now this... THIS...
"THIS IS BETTER!!"
The words are all but ROARED out from Luc's throat the moment he is propelled into the skies by the Duke. Laughter rips from the German's throat in what one might consider a mad laugh as he doesn't even seem to -try- to offer up any measure of reasonable defense against Wellington's assault. In fact, much like Wellington himself, Luc seems to just... take it all. Why?
Likely, the answer comes in the form of the glowing, ever-increasing mass of chi being built up within Luc's right hand. A violet pulse emits from his fist, the shine glowing blindingly bright the minute that Wellington smashes his hand into Schroedinger's back with a sickening -CRACK- of impact. Luc strikes the ground like a spiked volleyball, rebounding once, twisting through the air in a tangle of limbs and a fine spray of blood through the cold air...
... but when he lands, he lands fist-first, with an audible -WHUD- of impact against concrete ground with such force that the skin of his knuckles split. "GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!"
The moment that he strikes ground in that punching crouch, four violet lines sprout out from the ground around him in a cross-section, so massive the poor limo and Wellington himself are caught up within the radius. A second later, those lines EXPLODE into gargantuan columns of black, blue and violet chi, pulsating and -burning- violently with life as they all automatically begin a sudden, violent rotation, intent on sweeping up everything in their path -- specifically, Wellington. The walls of chi will move faster, and faster, and FASTER, becoming a proverbial STORM of power that encompasses and enshrouds Luc within its grasp before rupturing in a very, very big BOOM of an explosion.
"HRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRGHHH!!"
COMBATSYS: Luc successfully hits Wellington with Demiurge Trigger.
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Luc 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1 Wellington
There's definitely something very, very off about these kids, Wellington decides.
They're just not right in the melon; they scoff when they're injured, and they laugh and grunt obnoxiously at the best of times.
Thus, punching this child in the back as hard as he can is rather liberating in the broader scale of things.
It's more the speed of recovery that proves a little surprising for Wellington. The British man stands there, near his ruined limousine, watching as the boy beckons forth that dreadful power. Briefly, he contemplates an attempt to interrupt the impending onslaught... but he doesn't have time, he realizes a split moment later.
The only thing he can try is to weather through the storm, and what a storm it is.
Walls of chi begin their revolutions, and they are revoltingly powerful; the first sweep crunches the limousine, and by the fifth it's little more than a twisted ball of metal. The gyrations prove immense, and while it may seem quick, it feels like an eternity of pain for the man caught up in the storm.
Finally, all of that energy culminates, it peaks -- it EXPLODES.
When the smoke of it all clears, Wellington is actually down on one knee, breathing hard, yet somehow still with a suit that's in one piece. It's best not to question the physics of that, but the man itself is certainly damaged and bruised, bleeding from both nostrils and the mouth.
"My, you pack quite a punch for someone so young," he notes, and a moment later he laughs, straightening to knuckle the small of his back.
But he does not attack. Instead he simply smiles, spreading his arms out wide, taking several deep, long and soothing breathes deep into his body.
"Congratulations, you might be the only member of your little team who can actually inflict damage to one such as I. Kudos."
COMBATSYS: Wellington gains composure.
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Luc 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Wellington
The rupturing, deafening boom of the exploding storm of chi shakes the very foundation that surrounds Luc and Wellington. A culmination of all Luc's anger into one perfectly devestating strike.
Which just goes to show just how angry the Angry German really is.
Wisps of chi slice through the air like remaining afterthoughts of the storm. Luc stands crouched in the midst of it, letting in slow breaths; a practical sitting duck, having just expended the bulk of his energies and his passionate rage into that one phenomenal strike. Yet... no punishment comes for this sacrifice, and as such, green eyes flick up towards the bloodied and battered form of Wellington, crouched and recovering himself. Luc pauses. He squints. He draws in a deep breath, comes to a stand...
"You're annoying. Like a guy I know. I dunno who -you- are..." British, irritating like Preston, big like Preston -- no, it's not clicking for Luc quite yet.
"--BUT THTOP TALKING WHEN THE FIGHT ISN'T OVER YET!!"
Chi ruptures across Luc's feet in the wake of a sudden -explosion- of power, ripping him into the air at a rate that strains his muscles and pushes him harder and faster than he should rightly be able to move. Soaring through the air with that explosion to help further amplify his speed, the German lances out with a single foot; a corkscrew spiral of black-blue fire twists around his leg, growing in size and intensity as his entire body pushes forward in an attempt to ram that polished shoe into Wellington's chest... and then just RELEASE all that chi in a sudden, miniature wave of explosive fire. "HRAAAAGH!!"
COMBATSYS: Wellington blocks Luc's Tyrant Strike.
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Luc 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\0 Wellington
It seems that Wellington really doesn't like giving out answers. At all. Even slightly. Thus, while it may seem like that's almost a question, as to his identity, he simply fails to reply.
The fact that Luc is leaping at him with a boot sort of helps him maintain his silence though. That boot descends for his chest, with a big gush of chi to follow after it -- but that shiny boot of the German's meets only the massive meaty hand of the British Admiral.
The wash of chi fails to have the effect that it should, ultimately running down into the man's all-encompassing hand. A smirk paints his features. Yes, this boy has spirit; he has spine. The last time a boy showed such spine to him, he put that boy in hospital.
Perhaps it's fitting that history repeats itself.
"Then let's end this fight, shall we?" he quietly asks with that accent. There is no subtle or obvious threat there; he simply judges the end of this fight to be approximately nigh.
Thus, Wellington seeks to bring the end to the fore now. Holding Luc there in the air with a colossal showing of strength, he lifts his other hand skyward. Beneath the German, the ground sizzles. The smell of ozone peaks as a thunderous crack of energy rises into the air, of jagged pillar of electrical chi that seeks to shock Luc right down to the bone.
Naturally, Wellington releases that foot before it hits. To do otherwise would be rather silly!!
COMBATSYS: Luc endures Wellington's Mizzenmast.
[ \\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Luc 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Wellington
COMBATSYS: Wellington has saved the state of this fight.
[ \\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Luc 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Wellington
At this point, Luc doesn't seek answers anymore. He's just trying to egg on the rest of the battle and keep Wellington from standing around; which works. The sudden springing kick is intercepted by Wellington with the lift of a meaty hand, chi-fire broiling around his palm. Luc only gets a moment's reprieve, however, as he is suddenly gripped in mid-air. Yet he doesn't pause. He doesn't try to catch his breath. Instead--
"End it...?" His palms twitch, black-blue electricity crackling around them.
"BUT THIS IS SO MUCH -FUN-!!"
And that said, Luc Schroedinger starts to push himself forward, STAMPING his free foot against Wellington's arm as it holds him. The ground sizzles, crackles, yet the German seems not to notice. Instead, he is roaring with laughter; the berkserker actually seeks to use Wellington's arm as a bizarre sort of leverage as he twists through the air, lancing forward -- just as that pillar of yellowish chi CRACKLES through the air and through Luc's body with jolting power.
Yet he doesn't stop. Body twitching, bloodied, bruised, Luc -just keeps going-, thrusting through the air and -straight- into Wellington's face with a thrash of arms through the air. Simultaneously seeking to push -off- the large man, the air between the berserking student and his opponent ignites into an 'X'-shape cross of broiling black-blue flames, intent on searing into Wellington's facemeats in a vicious collision. "GRAAAAAAAGH!"
COMBATSYS: Luc successfully hits Wellington with Aufruhr Kreuz.
[ \\\\ < > ////////// ]
Luc 0/-------/--=====|=======\=------\1 Wellington
Certainly, the young boy's getting what he wants; not only is Wellington no longer standing there, but it seems that the fight is drawing out to its inevitable conclusion despite the gracious offer from the Admiral.
The boy lurches forward, and the crack of lightning jolts him down to his bones. But that doesn't seem to be enough to stop this stalwart of sheer mayhem and carnage. The boy continues forward, unleashing that swath of flame in its cross formation at point-blank range.
A meager attempt is made by Wellington fend off the damage, but he can't, not in time anyway. The flames force their way past the rising forearm of the British man, catching him square in the face.
Stumbling backwards, Luc is free of the Duke's grip as he spends a moment to smother the flames that may wish to stick to his face. Now, the boy has got the man seeing red. It's a familiar sensation, but not something that young Schroedinger is likely to pick up on, just how alike the son is to the father.
It doesn't take long for him to respond. With Luc still in the air and leaping backwards, Wellington pushes forward, his dapper heels closing the gap between the two in sheer moments; Luc is fast, but Wellington is faster.
Therein he seeks to something very simple; punch the boy right in the face.
With his SHOE.
Ok that's really a kick.
COMBATSYS: Luc endures Wellington's Light Kick.
[ \ < > /////////// ]
Luc 1/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Wellington
If there's one thing that Luc is consistently good at...
... it's pissing people off.
He doesn't even recognize or care if Wellington is angry right now; surely he's not nearly perceptive enough to pick through that mask of calm. The German's only concern is the fight. Flames roaring out, they allow Schroedinger ample time to flip backwards -- but not enough time to fully recover.
Wellington thrusts forward in a sudden, blurring motion. Fluidly, his foot snaps out to bury it in Luc's most frequently-abused body part: his face. Yet, even as he lashes out, energy still crackles against Schroedinger's palm. "... Heheh. C'mon. C'MON!!"
-CRACK-!
That punchkick to the face snaps Luc higher through the air, blood spraying from his mouth and nose from the force of the impact. And yet... he grins.
"Is that it?!" Luc's right hand swings up, within it a small lance of black-blue chi.
"IS THIS ALL YOU GOT?! I THOUGHT YOU WERE TOUGH!!"
With that roar, Schroedinger FLINGS that lance straight towards the ground. It strikes just before Wellington's feet, and oddly... does not explode. Instead it disappears, as if absorbed by the earth itself. A split second passes... and then that energy roars back to life in an abrupt EXPLOSION beneath Wellington's feet, a roaring pillar of fire seeking to engulf the British man and then simply spit him out in a terrific explosion.
Regardless, though, the outcome for Luc is the same: he strikes the ground shoulder-first in a tumble, rolling across the ground before coming to a stop, unable to get up.
"... how... weak..."
COMBATSYS: Luc can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ <
Wellington 1/-----==/=======|
COMBATSYS: Luc successfully hits Wellington with Uberlastung Lanze.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\ <
Wellington 1/---====/=======|
There's a definite sigh from Wellington as the boy continues to scream and rave, even as he drives that lance of energy down into the ground.
It isn't hard for him to predict what's likely to happen.
What goes down, must come up.
It's the waiting that gets to him though. Ultimately, when the explosion comes, he seeks to dive aside; only he doesn't make it in time. Tonight just hasn't been his night, but it certainly has been Luc's. The pillar of fire makes him disappear from view, swallowing him up like a fat girl at a pizza parlor when there's no line and it's all you can eat because you paid for all you can eat and mmm isn't that some nice pizza and let's not forget those apple-caramel pizza desserts they have, man you have got to love the value they give you at Cici's for just $9.
You really can't beat that value.
And sometimes, you really just can't dodge.
Blown up into the air, it takes a bit of time for Wellington to land, and he does so heavily on his side. "OOOOfff," he grunts as he lands, spending a moment staring up at the sky as snow continues to fall. As it nears their little ruined field with the burning wreck of a limousine, and grass exploded, concrete exploded, and a tree on fire... well, the snow melts.
Eventually though, Wellington sighs and pushes himself back up to his feet, wiping off the blood that streaks his face. He straightens his suit, and slicks back his hair once more. "Yes, you're quite weak, boy. And since you're already floundering I won't do what I did to your teammates; I won't break your ribs, or your legs."
That doesn't stop him from stepping on Luc's back as he strides off though, giving his head a shake to clear the significant headache he's now sporting. That child gave him a run for his money. Whenever will he learn to stop underestimating these children?
"Go visit your friends. Together you may lick each other's wounds, and learn from this experience. My son is beyond your reach now.
"Give up while you can still draw breath."
And away he walks, to call a taxi.
Log created on 21:34:58 01/20/2008 by Wellington, and last modified on 00:30:42 01/24/2008.