Description: Offered a rare opportunity for an audience with Geese Howard, K' deliberates only a few days before he seeks out the master of Southsynd. After a brutal assessment, Geese decides that personally training K' is an acceptable business investment, and lures K' in easily with promises that he'll help the boy rid himself of his dependence on the glove and learn to control his stolen fire. As for the costs of this unparalleled tutelage? Geese isn't telling. Not yet.
He had not called ahead. He hadn't made an appointment; one, it seemed, had been made -for- him, with an efficient expectation that made his blood run cold. True to Billy's words, people just seemed to -know- what to do with him when he finally showed his face at Geese Tower.
Or at least, the people in the latter stages of his progress through the levels knew. When he'd first walked into that pristine lobby-- sporting his battered leather jacket, his plain black shirt, and his dusty jeans-- and asked to see Geese Howard, the receptionist had given him a very dim look and the sort of careful, plastic smile you give the mentally-challenged. Were he a person to take pleasure in these sort of things, he'd have smirked to see her face change when she called up about him and was told he was actually expected... but in truth, he was too tense to even notice when her attitude suddenly changed and she smiled him all the way to the elevator banks.
He had had to think this over for a while; or at least, long enough for his injuries to heal. This was not the sort of thing one stepped into lightly. Of course, he was perpetually aware, as each tense day slipped past, of the fact that this was not, in fact, something he could 'think over' or consider. He was perfectly well aware of how men like Geese Howard operated. Whatever offers such a person made were not negotiable. They provided only the barest -illusion- of choice. K' isn't certain he ever had the option to refuse Howard... even if he'd wanted to.
And he wasn't sure he wanted to. He knew he needed someone to train him, much as it grated at his pride. He needed someone who could show him how to do more than just flail with what power he had been given... as Bernstein had put it. He had violently denied Rugal's words to him, so long ago... but the truth of them had lurked in the back of K''s mind ever since. He didn't know what he was doing... and that was probably why he still had to rely on his glove for control.
He was searched before the elevators, though the exercise was largely just going through the motions; he had nothing on him. He HIMSELF was his own weapon. An escort was mustered to take him to the top floor and Howard, afterwards, and they left the boy standing somewhat lamely just inside those double doors. When he's finally let past those doors, nudged into the very center of Geese's true office, he walks in slowly, with a guarded sort of wariness... a mere boy, really, little older than Howard's own wayward son. At the least, this boy doesn't try to speak until spoken to... though that is more out of a natural laconic tendency than out of reverence.
Of course, from the moment that K' entered the doors of Geese Towers, his fate was sealed. Of course he isn't unexpected. He wants something. And people who want things badly enough, they become predictable. Geese Howard should know.
He deals in the business of necessities.
K' is brought through Geese Towers in what is simply standard procedure. Likely, he is far stronger than any gun could ever be; likely, he's stronger than any of Howard's security personelle currently on staff, especially considering Billy Kane is off running errands for the man. Most importantly of all... Geese Howard hardly has anything to fear of a fighter of K''s caliber. He -is- his own weapon, as well. No. This is just procedure.
And it gives Geese time to indulge himself in the clear, fresh night air.
When K' finally makes his way into the rooftop office, he'll find Howard peering out over the edge, watching the city skyline -- a habit of his he's developed over the years. Dressed in an expensive black suit, blue tie, black, button-up shirt and slacks, the CEO of Howard Enterprises doesn't look behind him as K' enters. Instead, his hands slip into his pockets, and pale blue eyes focus towards the view of the city.
"K', right? Such an odd name, that. Not the kind of name you find in normal people... but we're not normal people, are we?" Geese finally looks behind him towards K' as he speaks, his lips pulling into an easy smile as he turns around slowly. Making his way towards the young man, Geese extends a single hand towards him -- and offering.
"I've heard a lot about you." He chooses not to expound on what, exactly, or from where; the default explanation would be SNF, but considering who Geese -is-... who knows what the truth is. "But I think this is the first time we've actually met. Geese Howard."
One could even say that his fate was sealed from the moment Geese Howard chose to take interest in him. The man does not seem the type to waste time being interested in anything unless he is reasonably certain he can make a favorable business arrangement out of it. One way or another.
The boy balks slightly as his yellow eyes fall on Howard. He is not customarily one to be overawed or intimidated by anything, his insolence and insouciance nigh-legendary by now... but neither is he a stupid young man. There are things in the world which merit such caution. He himself knew full well that the procedures that brought him here were mere ceremony-- his strength likely unmatched by anyone in the fifty-nine lower floors of this building-- but he also knows that the REAL reason those precautions were so useless is not because he is strong, but because Howard himself could handily put him down should he prove bothersome.
Security precautions are only of great importance to those men who couldn't destroy potential assassins themselves.
K''s moment of uncertainty is short. After a brief silence, he shakes off the momentary pause that necessarily must come of standing in the famed Howard's immediate presence for the first time. His shoulders slacken, eyes half-lidding in a watchful and measuring sort of way, and he approaches Howard slowly, meeting the man halfway. It is a moment before he accepts the handshake, and he does so with his left hand. He is quick to retract, touch seeming to aggravate him.
He makes no reply to Geese's initial rhetorical question, simply inclining his head slowly in confirmation of his strange name... and in confirmation of the fact he knows Howard's. The man needs no introduction, really. The smile is not returned, a grave and severe look seeming permanently graven into his features. "I'd ask," he finally says, never one to dwell on small talk, "what it was you heard that'd make you interested enough to see me. Mr. Howard." A pause, and then, carefully-- this time with the barest hint of sardonic humor-- he explains, "This is not the first time people have been interested in me."
There are things that are worthy of note when you first meet a person. For one, Geese Howard typically chooses to take note of greetings or reactions when meeting people for the first time. K' is silent, only talking when talked too -- and from the look of his eyes, not out of any perception of politeness. This is a rude a belligerant young man. But fortunately... rage is a fairly easily guided emotion. The second thing Geese notices is when K' shakes his hand. The contact is brief; he uses his left hand. In an idle glance, the King of Southtown glances towards K''s right, and that unusual glove. His brow lifts.
Yet another thing to keep in mind.
"You could ask, but I think we both know that'd be a waste of time," comes Howard's succinct reply to K''s first words, taking a step back before making a calm stride towards his ornate chair and desk. "Suffice to say I'm not a stupid man. I think you know that much. You and your big friend have made quite the names for yourselves with your... unique abilities. Names you'd think you would avoid trying to make, given those abilities." Geese settles down on his opulent seat, legs crossing and arms settling into his lap. He pauses, to let his words settle in.
"I'm not a man who likes to beat around the bush with small talk or needless rhetoric, K', and I think you're a young man who can appreciate that sentiment. I'm a businessman. I'm here to make a proposition to you." Giving a calm and confident smile as he speaks, the King of Southtown leans forward, gripping onto a manilla folder near him. He tosses it casually, letting it fall towards the opposite edge of his desk -- a clear indicator for K' to look inside. Should he choose to, he'll see what's within: a series of files based on one Kyo Kusanagi and the Kusanagi style of martial arts.
"You have something you want. You have a vendetta against Kyo Kusanagi. There's no use denying it, you have a hard time hiding it to begin with. Though I could make a good guess to the why's, that's not really my concern..." Geese leans back as he speaks, elbows resting on the arms of his chair and fingers lacing together in front of him. "... -my- concern is offering to help teach you and hone those powers of yours into a coherent style instead of the chaotic ravings they are currently. In short, K', I want to help you to help yourself. I'm giving you an opportunity to get strong enough to confront Kyo on even ground...
"... by training under me."
K' notices the way Howard looks at his right hand. His eyes narrow, an almost sullen look flickering briefly in his unusual eyes. Controlling himself and keeping his cool while under scrutiny never having been one of his talents, he isn't quite able to stop his gloved hand twitching under that exacting regard. His fingers tighten afterwards, and K' resists the urge to withdraw or conceal his hand.
He doesn't try to approach Geese's seat or desk when the other man strolls back to settle himself, his eyes simply following the crime lord's movements. As he thought... to ask any of Geese's motivations or rationales would be a huge waste of time. In his eyes, it's not much of a loss; he has an idea already of what price Howard would ask in return for the training he offers (and the rudimentary protection, from those who covet the abilities K' has). Allegiance. Favors. Delegated tasks. As such, K' holds his tongue, only cutting the faintest of appreciative smirks when Geese professes to hate beating around the bush.
He doesn't move again until the folder is flicked towards him. Approaching Geese slowly, he opens it and slides out the contents. The reaction is instantaneous: K''s eyes narrow, his hand shutting tight on the papers with an ominous crackle. But despite that seemingly adverse reaction, the look in his eyes as he reviews the information before him is undeniably hungry. Just the first few pages on the Kusanagi style are already more than he ever managed to learn on his own, in the past three years.
And even though K' had known from the start that training would be a possibility-- he would not have risked coming here otherwise-- to actually hear the offer -made- concretely is another thing altogether. Yellow eyes drift slowly up from the pages, K' staring at Howard. His gaze is intent and fixed... but the first mention of Kyo spasms his attention in two. Part of it remains on Geese. The rest circles poisonously around Kyo... and around NESTS. No, Kyo is hardly the only reason K' is here today, though it's the one he'll let Geese cite aloud. To attain strength enough to protect himself and others from NESTS-- to someday cut off its heads and topple it-- is the other reason he's telling Geese, right now, "...Like I told Kane... if you teach me, I'll learn." An unqualified 'yes.'
He doesn't waste Howard's time asking what the man wants in return for this training, though the question is there in the lengthy pause afterwards and the look in K''s eyes. As said before... he has a vague idea already, and the offer, by itself, is tantalizing enough to draw him forward even though the details of the 'catch' are unknown. Outwardly, K' is quiet and still; but the anger, desire, and drive blazing under his skin are painfully transparent to one so perceptive as Geese.
It might even amuse the tyrant how utterly -easy- his little would-be apprentice is to read and manipulate.
There's a saying for what is going on here:
The devil you know, for the devil you don't. K' chooses the latter. It may not be the wisest of decisions. But it's the one most in Geese Howard's interests.
The would-be King of Southtown waits patiently for K' to look over the various files on one Kyo Kusanagi -- hardly all the information that Howard has on the Kusanagi clan and the myths surrounding them and their ancient art, but it'd hardly be frugal to give an addict all of what they want up front. There'd be nothing to use as bait, then. And so K' only gets enough information to fan the flames of his hatred back to the forefront, just as much as Geese wants it to be.
Hands press together as Howard leans back in his ornate seat. K', fortunately, is a young man of few words; when they come, they are straight to the point. Howard looks up after a moment of silence following K''s agreement, expression grave as those intense, icy blue eyes lock with the young man's. "... Anyone can say that. Words don't mean much of anything, K', it's the actions that count. You've come here, so that shows some semblence of resolve. But is it enough?"
Geese let's the question trail just long enough to be thought over, but not nearly long enough to be responded too; soon enough, the mob boss moves seamlessly with his thoughts, leaning forward as he picks up once more. "At the end of the day, Kyo Kusanagi is just a boy who knows how to shoot out pretty little flames. He lacks incentive, discipline... but you're not much better than he is as you are now." Heese speaks this smoothly, fully knowing the reaction it might receive. But he continues. "You can't even control those pretty little flames properly, can you?" A glance moves back towards that glove. Effortlessly, Geese rises to his feet, moving past his desk and placing a hand into his pocket. He inhales, slowly.
"In the end, you're going to need more than mindless thrashing and whatever demented tactics you learned from whatever quaint little organization you came from to achieve anything you want. I can teach you that. I can give you the skills you need to get you what you want... but I'm not about to teach some loser who doesn't have the discipline or the drive to get what he wants. I don't pander to weaklings, K'. If you think you have what it takes, to learn from -me-... don't give me useless words." Geese turns to offer a half-glance at K', his frown distinct. His right hand lifts, in a beckoning gesture.
"-Show- me."
K' reacts in the expected, predicted fashion to every pointed word and barb Geese Howard throws out. The boy cannot seem to help it. What would have been subtle enough, in the eyes of most others with which K' deals, is glaringly obvious in the observant gaze of Geese. Every reaction is there to see, for those who know how and where to look. The temptation that the files trigger... the suggestion K' is no better than Kyo now is... the insinuation of his lack of control.
K''s right hand twitches shut, his expression darkening almost sullenly: especially at that final languid observation. Were the man before him anyone but Geese Howard, K' would have lunged instantly in a rage... but here, in an exercise of what little prudence he does have under that silver hair of his, he says and does nothing. Not YET. He just tightens his gloved fist until it grinds audibly with a sound of metal, the agonized slant of his brows answer enough to Geese's rhetorical observations. No-- he cannot control the fire. No, he is no better than Kyo. Not the way he is now. That is why he's here.
But even if you are Geese Howard, there is only so far you can prod K' before he breaks. The more Geese goes on and on about action being paramount to word, the more a sneer starts to twitch at the dour set of his mouth. With a short motion he tosses the files back onto Geese's desk, his head turning slightly to watch the man as he approaches.
'Is it enough,' Geese asks. Do you have the discipline and the drive... or are you a weakling?
K' turns slowly on a heel. His gloved hand slowly unwinds, relaxing marginally-- but this is only the prelude to the abrupt swipe he rips in Geese's direction, a spinning blast of flames following the arc of his hand and slinging outwards towards the Southtown King. "-I'm- enough," K' retorts lowly, his voice tight with all that built-up anger. "I have ten -times- his discipline... ten times his -incentive-..." After all, what is Kyo Kusanagi but some relic of the past, no longer needed and left to squander his talents on petty diversions and meaningless titles? K', on the other hand, has had very real problems... ones he has had to endure every year of his short life.
COMBATSYS: K' has started a fight here.
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K' 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Geese has joined the fight here.
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Geese 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 K'
COMBATSYS: K' successfully hits Geese with Eins Trigger.
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Geese 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 K'
There.
Not too hard to goad on, is he?
Geese stands calmly as K''s fury and indignance rises, noting it with an dispassionate glance towards the former NESTS agent's way. K' says little, but his actions in all their subtlety speak volumes more than words ever could. Almost casually, Geese Howard adjusts his tie.
And then K' lunges at him.
Pale blue eyes flick in K''s direction as the angry young man lunges forward with that sudden swipe through the air. Geese's body tenses but for a moment -- and then he starts to move. Far too late, unfortunately; the flames sear a path across Howard's front, the mystical crimson fire burning across Geese's chest and scorching his tie vaguely as he stumbles back and ultimately away from his attacker. One step, two steps, three... and then he stops. Geese looks down at the burn marks on his suit, and frowns.
"... Hmm... well you do decent enough damage to my outfit," Howard remarks casually as he finishes straightening his tie, eyes narrowing to a point at the rogue NESTS operative. "And maybe you do have the incentive. But the discipline? No. I see all that anger in your eyes. It's uncontrolled. And -uncontrolled- anger isn't -discipline.-"
Geese accentuated this by driving himself forward. The King of Southtown lances forward, to grip K' solidly by his chest and shoulder. Should he grasp firmly, he'll FLIP the young man through the air... before driving an open-palm thrust into K''s chest with enough force to fracture bone and powder cement. "It's just flailing about -impotently-! HMPH!"
COMBATSYS: Geese successfully hits K' with Combo Throw.
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Geese 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 K'
Breathing shallowly-- not yet from exertion, but from the effort of trying to hold back his anger-- K' lets his teeth part in something halfway to a bare, drawing air in regular and deceptively-controlled hisses. That hit clean, he knows it... but he is disconcerted, once the smoke clears, to see that he has had even less effect on Howard than he might have anticipated. The man certainly lives up to all K' had expected.
And then come the words; those maddening words that make it so hard to focus. K' tries to ignore them, tries to use his anger rather than letting it distract him, but it patently doesn't work. He tries blinking the evidence of his violent anger away, but when his yellow eyes open again, that same rage is still there.
What's also there is Geese Howard, careening a path straight for him.
K' tries to defend himself. He really does. But Howard's experience is just too much, the older man weaving right around his defenses, grasping a solid purchase and using it to almost literally break K' in half against the ground. He is not customarily a noisy fighter, but even he is forced to bark a cough of pain at the sheer force behind that strike. "I-- know!" he snarls in choked rejoinder, struggling for breath. "I've /tried/--"
The conclusion to that sentence is self-evident. I have tried to attain control. I've tried to discover and account for my weaknesses. But he doesn't finish the sentence; he knows already Geese would savagely poke holes in any rationale he tried to throw. Instead he reacts the only way he really knows how. He rolls and twists painfully to his feet, retreating slowly like a bird smacked out of the sky... at least, up until he comes right back in a sudden and reckless snapkick at Howard's very jaw.
COMBATSYS: K' successfully hits Geese with Minutes Spike.
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Geese 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 K'
There's no restraint as Geese Howard drives his fist directly into K''s ribs with a cracking impact. Almost just as fluidly does the man snap backwards, eyes narrowed upon the NESTS agent as he goes blasting backwards. One hand slips into his pocket, his stare is stern. Geese Howard is not a forgiving fighter.
And he's even more merciless as a teacher.
"There's no room for excuses here," Geese states simply even as K' cuts himself off. "Excuses are the breeding grounds for the weak and worthless. Don't clutter your mind with ignorant reasoning. Stop trying to make that anger burn brighter than anyone else's. Only rampaging idiots who lack skill and talent try and rely on an inferno with no precision."
And then K' comes at Geese once more, and faster than the mob boss can keep up with -- just barely. That snapkick drives -into- Howard's jaw with a sudden CRACK of impact, forcing him into a backwards stumble. He grips onto a nearby statue for support, eyes narrowed and an amused grin crossing his lips. A trail of blood falls down the corner of his lips. "... Better. But that anger of yours is still burning, isn't it? Learn to control it. Refine it. Make it cold and restrained..."
A burning orb of cold blue fire ripples into existence in Geese's palm as he speaks. With an almost casual gesture, he snaps that arm -forward-, whipping it straight upwards through the air. "DOUBLE!" he roars as a torrential gout of dark blue flame -explodes- across the ground. But before it can make its path... Geese whips up his left arm, a spherical mass of chi adding to the gout until it is easily as large as K' is tall.
"REPPUKEN!"
And with this terrible cry, the monstrous mass of chilling fire explodes across the ground, burning a path -straight- for the Beast of Prey.
"... -then- you'll find real strength."
COMBATSYS: K' slows Double Reppuken from Geese with Second Shoot.
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Geese 0/-------/---====|=======\-------\1 K'
K' was neither expecting, nor desirous -of-, a forgiving or lenient teacher. The way he's been raised, bitter pain is the only real road to improvement. Even Geese's harsh word choice is almost welcoming, the familiar cynical coldness inherent in those ruthless words quite similar to K''s own modes of thought-- his own way of going through life. Weakness. Foolhardiness. Swiping a hand across his eyes, K' tries to purge both from his mind... though it's still hard for him, indulging in his wild temper having long since become an ingrained habit.
Nonetheless, it seems to work... because once he seizes that anger and makes it work for him rather than dominate him, he manages to do what so few people on the face of the planet can claim to have done. He hits Geese Howard twice in a row.
Whether it's just dumb luck or something more, he doesn't let it go to his head. From painful experience, he's learned that's the fast track to an assbeating. Pushing away, landing in a backwards skid, he swallows, snatches a breath, and-- yellow eyes intently fixed on Geese's blue-- visibly tries to follow Geese's subsequent instructions as to what to do with his rage. Trying to get himself under control, K' lets his head bow. His silver hair flops across his eyes as he lets out a long breath: an attempt to center, even as Geese's calm instructions needle coldly in his consciousness.
But even those efforts, intense as they are, are only half of what helps him out when Geese suddenly slings a six-foot mass of blazing chi-fire straight for him. The rest of it? It's experience from having Rock Howard bash the shit out of him with this particular attack before. It's too fast to avoid, too powerful to try and weather... so K' does something different. He meets it pretty much head-on.
A surge of fire races up his arms, bangling his wrists, and it roars to life in a spiraling swath before him as he rips one arm in a mirroring gesture. With a sharp spin, he twists and does the very unorthodox: he kicks the flames straight for the wall of chi, the bolt of fire cutting into the energy with scissoring force. The flames gutter and dash apart halfway, not having sufficient strength to continue all the way through... but that disruption is sufficient to disrupt the cohesion of the blue flames, the resultant remnants far easier for K' to weather. If not much less -painful-.
"I've seen and felt that already," he eventually manages, straightening haltingly. A strained smile twitching the corner of his mouth upwards, some of his familiar insouciance returning. "From your son..."
Like a pebble thrown against a boulder, K' launches his bolt of fire with one swinging kick towards the unholy mass of chi that roars towards him. And, surprisingly... it works.
But not nearly well enough.
Even partially dispersed, the Double Reppuken roars onward, consuming the mess of flames and crashing into K' like a tidal wave. And despite the fact that K''s gambit partially paid of, the price is all too clear from the moment of impact; even slowed, the Reppuken is nothing to scoff at. It leaves Geese standing calmly as K' is forced to weather the subsequent storm, his smile just as cold as his gaze.
'I've seen and felt that already,' K' notes.
"No, you haven't," Geese corrects impassively.
"The name of a technique doesn't mean anything compared to the form and delivery of it. Whatever Rock showed you is just a pathetic shadow of training he didn't have the resolve to finish. It's a shame." It is. Because if anything, Geese Howard recognizes talent. And if anyone has talent...
... it's someone possessing Geese's own genes.
But the time for banter has long since passed. Even as K' attempts to recover himself, Howard rushes forward, breaking across the space between himself and the would-be Beast of Prey in order to take an iron grip onto the young man's left arm. Should he succeed? He'll simply -yank- it to the side in one violent jerking motion. "My son didn't know how to contain all that hate of his into something useful. The boy had no control over his emotions. It's too bad. He could have put that hatred for me to good use instead of flailing about stupidly." He'll lock K''s arm behind his back at that point, to dislocate the shoulder if it should all carry through.
"Maybe you can do a bit better."
COMBATSYS: Geese successfully hits K' with Medium Throw.
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Geese 0/-------/--=====|=======\==-----\1 K'
K' stands corrected.
The boy is silent as Geese calmly discusses his son: speaking in the same indifferent way one would discuss a particularly irksome business investment that had promise, but never quite got off the ground. And for once, K'-- young enough to be Geese's son himself-- bites back whatever he might have had to say, listening instead even as he tries to recover his scattered wits and shake off the damage done by that terrible attack. He feels nothing in particular for Rock, no real sympathy or desire to defend him. Neither is he even all that curious about the strange relationship that comes to light as Geese talks about his estranged son. Whatever father and son feel for one another is between them: K' is just here to try to capitalize on the instruction of Geese Howard, if Rock himself refuses to utilize the resource any further.
Even if he had wanted to, he wouldn't have had the time or the focus to reply Geese's musing words in any appreciable manner, anyway. The man is too fast. Geese's sudden rush forces K' to move, the boy whipping around in an attempt to fend off Geese's grasp, but Howard's grip locks before he can escape, the subsequent wrench nearly drawing a cry. The sound suicides fast, K' biting down on it angrily-- but that valiant effort goes to waste when Geese abruptly pulls hard enough to dislocate his shoulder, finally strangling that sound of pain out of K''s raw throat.
Apparently, any rumination that K' could possibly do better than Howard's own son must necessarily come with the cost of being TREATED like Howard's own son.
Eventually managing to break away, seizing his upper arm and forcibly yanking his shoulder back into place with the sort of indifference to pain only a whole lot of conditioning can instill, K' backs up a little, pained and panting, watching Geese warily as a slow fire starts rising like hackles along his shoulders... crawling down his lean frame. "-I- want to learn to use it. It's too hard... being ruled by it," he eventually states. Cold fact... but the words are a bit useless, for this much should already be clear enough to Geese.
K' knows passion isn't good enough anymore. When he gives in to it, he can feel himself bashing against a ceiling that he just can't get past. Irrationality, not thinking things through... sometimes it helps, but most of the time it's just hindered. He can sense, dimly, that to no longer be governed by rage could give him that edge, make him more dangerous... but he needs a guide getting out of that pit.
COMBATSYS: K' gathers his will.
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Geese 0/-------/--=====|=======\======-\1 K'
Geese Howard allows a slow smirk to snake its way across his features as K' breaks away from his grasp and, with a cold indifferences, re-sets his shoulder with the sort of practiced ease you might find from a soldier. And K' might as well be, considering where he was raised. The boss of Southtown Syndicate says nothing, however; instead, he takes to calmly adjusting his tie and smoothing out his suit with a practiced sort of ease.
"Of course it is," Howard replies easily to K''s words. He lowers into his traditional fighting stance as he speaks, eyes focusing entirely upon K'. "But with my help, you'll control it, instead of it controlling you... if you can handle the training. You have good potential, 'K''..."
Howard's arms slowly lift into the air as K' gathers that mystical fire to him in tendrils of real, crimson flame. Even as he does, though, Geese summons forth icy chi of the deepest blue pitch around his arms; tongues of chifire snake towards his hands as he summons more and more of his own inner reserves of chi -- at a far faster rate than K'. He smiles.
It's not a pleasant one.
"... let's see if you can actually put it to good use. RAGING!"
Geese's arms swing down. They impact against the rooftop grounds fingers first, palms slapping against the cold floor with such ferocity that it cracks beneath the pressure. That very instant, -everything- explodes around Geese. In a -wide- radius around him, massive blades of undulating deep blue fire rip across the very air with rippling intensity, surrounded by coronas of violet. These massive tendrils of chi whip about like a sheer vortex of power, consuming everything in their path... and threatening to engulf K' within their depths without mercy. Without relent. K' might have seen this before. He might think he's felt it before. But nothing, NOTHING can be compare to the original.
"STORM!!"
COMBATSYS: K' blocks Geese's Raging Storm'.
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Geese 0/-------/-------|=======\=======\1 K'
With a gruff matter-of-factness and a quiet grunt, K' works his shoulder once or twice, ignoring the searing pain in favor of creaking his joint properly back into place. A studied frown dominates his young features as he regards Howard warily, even those innocuous tie-straightening movements setting his nerves and sense on high alert... keeping him on edge. Perhaps it's deliberate; perhaps Geese is just feeling that confident about things. The latter would certainly not be unjustified.
The boy studies Geese's fighting stance with a frank sort of scrutiny. Being entirely unfamiliar with heritable or concrete styles, this practiced stance is something alien to him: especially since his own stance is completely haphazard, the only expressed principle therein being the eminently practical 'keep your strong side thrust forward.' K' shifts eventually, starting into a restless pace, circling Geese slowly in that slow way an outmatched predator keeps a respectful distance from something way higher on the food chain.
And all the while, the tantalizing possibilities Geese offers to K' just draw him deeper, cementing his determination to do the unthinkably dangerous: walk headlong into this devil's pact with the King of Southtown.
K' makes no verbal reply as he watches Geese gather that chi with a terrifying rate and deftness. It's as Geese said earlier... K' can talk all he wants, but right now, -action- is what's important. And when Geese slams downwards, blasting that massive shockwave out in a radiating pattern, K' acts. His stance skids open, his lean frame nailing down in a defensive posture, and all that gathered fire sears in front of him in a rudimentary defense. The lashes of energy tear and rip at K', battering his already-injured frame horribly, expending the brunt of their rage against his form, but that flare of Kusanagi fire-- all that stands between K' and the potent force of the Raging Storm-- cuts some of the damage, absorbing the shock and flaking away. In those chaotic moments K'-- his head down, his light body braced, the blinding light of the blasting power making an anonymous body of him-- even looks a little bit like Geese's troublesome son. He certainly eats damage like Rock... it might bring back memories.
Eventually the barrage passes. K' stumbles forwards abruptly when the force he'd been bracing against is suddenly gone. Dazed, half stunned even though what COULD have happened is so much worse, he eventually shakes his head angrily, steels himself, and does something potentially dumb. He tries to attack Geese Howard again.
Particularly well known for his tendency never to stop fighting until physically incapable, K' proves it now to Geese with a sudden and vicious lunge. Fire laces both hands and arms, trailing past his wrists, as he tries to slam a blazing, spinning uppercut into Geese... and then another, wider and harder, aimed to take Howard into the air. If he even manages to get -that- far, he'll bring a long leg around in a flaming kick: an attempt to strike Howard out of the air and back to the rooftop.
Geese says, "oh you"
COMBATSYS: Geese blocks K''s Heaven Drive.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Geese 0/-------/------=|======-\-------\0 K'
"... Hn," Howard grunts out the second he comes, to a stand to see K' weathering the storm.
"... At least you're competent enough."
Geese speaks placidly as his stance shifts, taking up something a bit more defensive. K''s weathered his storm, but it still puts him at a disadvantage -- a disadvantage the young man tries to circumvent through a sudden and hellacious burst of speed. For a moment, Geese's eyes widen -- but then almost instantly narrow. A calm smile passes over his lips once more. Calm. Assured. In control. It all but speaks the words of K''s sudden lunge:
"-PREDICTABLE-!"
The roar is unleashed from the depths of Howard's throat as K' lances outward in that spinning uppercut. Inner wells of chi spring to life within Geese's body like a furnace. Like a blurr of motion, the King of Southtown swipes forward in hyperspeed.
K' never makes it past the first punch.
Chi and fist smash into Howard's awaiting palm in a sudden -explosion- of crimson fire. Howard stays the motion of K''s assault with a sudden and overwhelming numbness that stings through his arm. The sleeves of his suit and shirt rip apart from the sudden force and the expulsion of fire. But what matters is perception.
And Geese Howard does not budge an inch.
"You must never. Act. IRRATIONALLY!" The condemning words are delivered with a sudden lancing kick, attempting to drive itself into K''s gut. This is then accentuated with a twist as Howard's leg sweeps -high- up... and then stamps -down- to drive into K''s already injured shoulder with blinding speed and ferocious power.
"This session is over."
COMBATSYS: K' fails to interrupt Light Kick from Geese with Crow Bite.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /// ]
Geese 0/-------/------=|======-\-------\0 K'
COMBATSYS: K' can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Geese 0/-------/------=|
K' would not be here if he didn't have some measure of competence, no. The boy had to clear past Billy Kane to even get so far as to attain an actual audience with Geese... much less an evaluating spar. It's highly unlikely anyone would waste time on the little failure if he didn't still have some worth to him... and he's worked quite hard to make sure he does.
Actual finesse, however, is still beyond him... as Geese soon disapprovingly points out. The violent onrush, when thrown subsequent to a move tactically meant to disadvantage and open distance, is a foolish one. Geese recognizes this instantly, and he roars his immediate displeasure as he -seizes- and stops all K''s built-up force in one decisive hand. K' screeches to a halt, yellow eyes flicking wide, his controlled fire instantly losing its cohesion and blasting across Howard's arm as it leaps to scattered freedom.
K' has only an instant to look surprised before Geese's sharp reproval hits his senses... along with that first kick. K' folds, skidding back a bit, pained and too winded to cry out-- but the sudden way his trapped hand spasms angrily shut in Geese's grip should be Howard's first indication that Howard's harsh words have hit a nerve and stoked that rage yet again. Predictable? FINE-- then he will be unpredictable, he'll do the unexpected...
And he certainly tries. As Geese segues into that second axe kick, K''s free hand suddenly bursts to life with a violent seething of flames. The boy chambers his blazing hand, as if to cut a sharp uppercut from the opposite direction at Geese with the remnants of his lingering strength, but the crime lord is too fast. His injured right shoulder gets struck loose again by that downwards blow, an already-loose socket dislocating again readily, and K' hits the ground on his knees... his right hand, the -best- weapon he has, still helpless in Geese's grip.
And K' stays right where he is. He doesn't have the fortitude to get up anymore. He just folds slightly, his free hand hitting the ground to support him upright, and tries to catch his breath: ignoring the burning pain in his right shoulder. Presently he recovers enough to process what it was Geese said; with a rough swallow, he wets his throat enough to talk. "How... do I know..." K' pants heavily, drawing an arm angrily across his face in a childlike motion of frustration, "...what's irrational..."
It's a decently viable question. Up until now, K' has only ever done what -feels- right to him at the time, and that's not really being a good judge of rationality at all. He had thought that tendency to follow whim could be the essence of unpredictability... but it seems not. It seems there is a level at work here that is beyond him.
One man's measure of competence is different from another. and while K' might have gotten past Kane, whose judgment Howard trusts as much as he has the capacity to trust another person's judgment, it's still not HIS measure.
And in the end, his measure is the only one that is important.
His determination is delivered in the final moments of the fight. One powerful hand casts an iron-grip on the glove that offers only some semblence of control to K''s mystic crimson flame. And while the so-called Beast of Prey attempts to play one final hand, Geese has already called an end to the match.
A fact that is helpfully emphasized by the ruthless crack of Howard's leg directly into K''s injured shoulder.
No remorse. No hesitation. Geese sees the opening, sees the weakness, and exploits it. And before K' can carry his gambit through, Howard crushes his guard, and sends the former NESTS agent crashing into the ground. For a long moment, there is a pause. The King of Southtown stares down at his fallen opponent with a cold smirk, the fabric of his coat along his left arm in tatters, still gripping upon that cumbersome glove of K''s. Silence... and then, Howard releases K''s grip to let him fall completely.
"You don't. You can't possibly know by yourself, you don't have the grasp for it. You need help. Guidance. But don't worry, K'...
"... your guiding hand is here."
Howard turns from K' at this point, allowing the young man to recover on the floor at his leisure. He doesn't offer to help the white-haired fighter up; those who want help, help themselves. "I'll train you. I'll show you how to control that raging fire of yours, -without- the use of some crude and useless toy built to act as a crutch. In the meantime, prepare yourself... because this training will NOT be for the faint of heart." As for the cost? Howard doesn't say. He just settles back in his chair, glancing back on K'. He doesn't need to say.
The cost is whatever he chooses.
"Your training will begin properly next week. Be ready."
On his knees, out of breath, with one shoulder knocked out of its socket and the rest of him battered beyond any ability to continue. This is possibly the worst situation K' can picture himself being in, his pride snarling at his own inability to recover back to a proper stand... or even to free his hand from Geese's grasp. Hissing a loud sound of frustration, K' dips his head and lets his long bangs feather across his face.
When his right hand is finally released, it joins the left in a brace against the ground; and this time, despite the agonizing pain that is a result of his arm hanging out of its proper place, he is not so quick to force it back. It's not until he has the wherewithal to properly brace himself against the pain he knows will result that he grasps his arm just beneath the shoulder, biting down hard in a grit of teeth before he reduces the dislocation with a quiet, strangled grunt.
Through the haze of pain, he registers something of what Geese says in reply. His pride stings further, K''s head lowering further even as he finally struggles to his feet, but he bites back whatever sharp words he might have had. Geese just got his full attention by referencing that glove-- and by suggesting that his training could lead to its removal. The words cause the boy's frame to still noticeably, and his yellow eyes finally unveil themselves to the world again. They peek through his hair, the look in them suddenly intense. K' has full control over his own black and shadowy native chi, the chi he was born with; it's not hard, it's a paltry and easily-handled potential, simple to use in confusing the eye and enhancing speed. But he can't command the foreign fire in him... and the fire is his -real- weapon.
He stares a few moments, before his gaze drops again and he lets go a strangled sort of laugh. Geese will show him how to control his fire, without that heavy glove? "I never wanted anything more," he confesses; those quiet and convicted words serving as answer enough, also, to Geese's declaration that he be probably prepared for the training ahead. "So. ...I'll be here."
And with that, if Geese has got nothing else to say and he's properly dismissed, he'll turn away to take his leave. He doesn't thank Geese for his offer of tutelage, despite the perception of ungratefulness this might present. You don't thank people for that which isn't altruism... and he knows Geese is bound to exact a harsh cost for the knowledge he offers.
Log created on 20:39:47 03/28/2008 by K', and last modified on 22:39:09 04/01/2008.