Description: Lessons in manhood!! ...not like that, you perverts! Kenji is scheduled for lessons from the surly Russian Grigori Yakushevic on how to better be a man, since it would seem the folks at SNF think he needs them. (He does!!) Will Grigori's might and advice prove worth their while, or will Kenji's PASSIONATE YOUTH!! reign supreme?? (Winner: DKO)
With all the times that Kenji Ashima's signed up for the Saturday Night Fight events, all the times that he's promsied his mom he won't be coming home covered in bruises and broken bones, for all the times he goes in with the intent to drive fear and power into the hearts of mortal men...!
His personal life just keeps being the joke.
It reflects in his demeanor as he waits in the steakhouse, amidst the smells from the kitchen and the inability to go get one of those delicious steaks. Dressed in his student uniform, Kenji's also managed to scrounge up a jacket with a shorter hem than the one worn during the winter months, the monster of a puke yellow coat that nearly fell to his knees. It made him look more like a gang boss than a respectable student, though it sure was pretty damn warm!
His arm hooked around the back of the adjacent chair and one leg folded under the other, the thin rail of a brawler is reading one of those shounen manga he loves so much, with the dramatic artistry and the explosions firing off left and right.
Will Asuka be saved?!!
Will Suzuki defeat the great demon?!
Will he ever stop reading this stuff?!!
All those questions go unanswered as the SNF staff taps him on the shoulder to get his attention and go stand ready in the steakhouse's designated fighting space, leaving the young man to close his new book and toss it onto the table next to the rest of the crew gear and follow after. Though he's still got a smile on his face, there seems to be something weighing down on his shoulders...
Maybe this was just his way of getting over what happened in the basement of that casino.
Though Kenji Ashima is the second of both fighters to arrive, he may as well be the first.
Situated at the back half of the Surly Steakhouse is the broad Russian himself, Grigori Yakushevic. And there, on the table before him, is a vast array of steak dishes and their scrumptious sides, from mashed potatoes to broccoli and corn. It's a feast for five men--all for the Russian, courtesy of Howard Enterprises.
Naturally, complimenting his massive steak dinner(s) are numerous tall, wide glasses of cold, frosty tap beer. Like a small city of glass, the empty beers litter his feast-y landscape, making the massive table laid before him even more cluttered. It's a hell of a mess, but the Russian man seems to be enjoying himself.
And the poor waitress assigned to his table.
"A-ah, excuse me, sir, can I help you?" the tiny young woman asks, practically hiding behind her serving tray. Immediately pale blue eyes drift to the skinny blonde woman, her presence before him earning her a wide, toothy smirk from her designated patron.
"Ah, pretty little mat', so glad you come back. I was worried after last time you wouldn't come back to table." The blonde just looks uneasy, absently gnawing on her bottom lip before she asks, again, "C-can I help you? Would you like some w-water?"
"Gya ha ha ha ha, water? Fíga s dva! Get me beer. More!"
"You've had like, ten already. I think we have a limit..."
"Beer! I want more beer, miss..." Leaning forward, he attempts to peer at the girl's name badge pinned to the breast of her shirt. Seconds turn into minutes as Grigori pointedly stares at her chest; realizing this, the blonde lifts her serving tray.
"Penelope."
"That isn't my name. It's Alicia."
"Beer?" His brows lift hopefully.
Frustrated and angry, the girl throws her arms into the air and walks off toward the bar. Grigori laughs, slapping the table before he begins to dig into his food. That's when Kenji catches his attention. It's hard to blend in wearing puke-orange in the middle of a restaurant when people are dressed for out of school.
Rising from his table, the burly man moves toward the shounen manga-reading young man, heavy Italian leather boots stomp-stomping against the wooden floor of the steakhouse. And when he nears, large hands ease into his pockets, a wolfish smirk cutting cruelly across his face as he stares down at Kenji.
"I am tolds that I am to give you instruction on being man, a real ambál fellow." Lifting his hand from his pocket, he slaps it against his broad, barrel-like chest.
"But if you are reading the picture books with silly name, you can never be man. You, is lost cause."
The man snorts and turns away with a dismissive shrug.
"A waste of time, this all is. Oh well, free foods for me."
Steak. As a prospective chef, Haru Izanami actually is quite fond of it, but perhaps his opinion of what should be *done* with red meat is probably a little different. 'Slathered with mushrooms on a dirty plate with a baked potato of dubious origins' is not at the top of his list. Thus when he found out that he was participating in an SNF in one of Southtown's less reputable steak joints, and that he wasn't a main competitor besides, he didn't make a particular effort to arrive early and case the joint. Instead he prepared himself by staying home and making beef stroganoff... perhaps a little plain, but still pretty damned tasty.
There was no way he was going to let himself get hungry in this place, after all.
The doors to the place open just as Grigori walks over and introduces himself to Kenji, and what few eyes aren't locked onto the confrontation between combatants turn to the door. Lanky, dressed in black, and with his typical dour expression, Haru couldn't look any more out of place if he were wearing a harlequin's costume. Perhaps it's something in his bearing, or maybe the SNF person who comes to greet him, but at least people give him a wide berth as he steps down the length of the restaurant, finally coming to a stop just shy of Kenji and the departing Grigori. One black eyebrow goes up at the Russian, Haru having caught the tail end of his commentary, and he turns to his Gedo classmate with a faint smile.
"Not how I expected to meet you again, Ashima-kun... or do you prefer 'Kenji' outside school?" There's a pause as he looks around, then scratches the side of his head for a moment. "Sorry. I'll try and behave. And I won't show favoritism, but... good luck out there."
The two-colored eyes skim over to Grigori for a moment. "You might need it."
Heavy Italian leather boots... and Kick-Rollers.
Ordinarily, Kenji wouldn't pay a guy like Grigori the time of day-- to him, he was just another one of the rowdy patrons that may just as well be some of the worse parts of Southtown. He's encountered plenty like that ever since he had transferred from Osaka, as well as his adventures on the high seas.
But with those heavy footsteps that may as well be the impact tremors of an incoming T-Rex, the small rail of a youth turns and looks ... up. And up, and up, and up. What in the eighty-six headed crystal hydra of the ninth ring is-!!
The youth pauses, narrowing his eyes as he's given the dismissive attitude. Still, his expression goes from dour to unexpectedly bright, beaming positively and hooking his fist into a thumbs-up. "Cool!!"
And that's how he leaves that.
Turning to Haru as he's addressed, the student council secretary sinks his fists into his pockets and grins a bit, cocking his head. He remembers Haru well, him and that daggum yo-yo he flings around. "Oi, Haru! Nah, Kenji's fine whenever! I don't mind either way." As for Grigori, he looks over his shoulder one more time, the brawler in the skull-on-fire jacket. "... Yeah... well, whatever happens, it'll be fine!"
Pause.
"I think..."
So! The Saturday Night Fight crew signals for the tapes to start and the fight to begin! Kenji's attention turns immediately to Grigori in full, his hands suddenly emerging from his pockets.
"UrrrrrrrrrAGH!"
His right arm hooks around as he leans to his left, whipping around in a diagonal arc. His fist flares to life, exploding with the warm white-blue energy. It creates a fierce arc-- one that tries to scatter around and slam into Grigori's chest in a painful way!
COMBATSYS: Kenji has started a fight here.
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Kenji 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Grigori has joined the fight here.
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Kenji 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Grigori
COMBATSYS: Kenji successfully hits Grigori with Twelve Gauge.
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Kenji 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Grigori
Whatever Kenji's reaction, Grigori couldn't care less--evident by the way he turns himself away and begins to skulk off with a too-confident smirk nestled on his cold features. Even Kenji's 'let's positive thinking' exclamation yields little reaction, save for the slide of a hand from his pocket and a dismissive wave given Kenji's direction. 'Whatever,' the Russian would likely say.
The man's pale blue eyes only drift briefly to Haru, who passes by and approaches the young fighter with familiarity. Let the two of them get chummy--or even leave together. Grigori has a free dinner waiting for him and a waitress to harass, which is, to him, far more interesting than dicking around with some prepubescent kid.
Grigori smirks to himself, nostrils flaring as he offers a deep chuckle.
But then the young man is whipping into action, causing the broad-chested Russian to turn around and face Kenji. Immediately upon facing the youth, a fist whips out, energy lashing out and cutting a streak across the man's shirt, the tail of his open silk shirt whipping wildly about in the wake of his scalding attack. In response the man stumbles back a few steps, heavy boot heels thunking against wood.
And, slowly, a scowl crawls its way horribly over his lips, white teeth bared.
"If that is best you can do, mál'chik," the man warns, sizing the young student council member up, ignoring the yo-yo wielding Gedo student for the moment. "You has long way to go to being man. Here, let me show you."
With a low, rumbling growl in his throat the Russian steps forward and attempts to seize Kenji by the arm before swinging his other hand inward to clutch the young man by the collar. And should he get a firm hold, Grigori will heft Kenji upwards, clutching at him with both hands...before he drops him down into the table he was sitting at.
Well... time to do his job, isn't it? Before Haru can even think of something halfway decent to say back to the Gedo student body secretary, Kenji has already decided to get things moving right off the bat. He blinks in surprise, though it's short-lived... after all, Haru himself has experienced just the type of skill and power Kenji has to offer. It's no surprise he'd want to get right in the action.
Slowly, he moves so that he's in a rough triangle with the line Kenji and Grigori make with their stances, in equal distance of both, and with a quick movement both yoyos, glistening dark silver and black in the steakhouse's evening lighting, slide easily into his palms. It's a little showy, but nothing wrong with that. After all, it's these two that the public's really tuning in for. Haru? Is there to collect a paycheck. "Time to get to work," he mumbles, mostly to himself.
Taking a deep breath, he takes stock of the stiatuon as well. Kenji's off to a good start, surprising his opponent with ferocity... a ferocity the tough-looking Grigori disdains, yet shows himself with the sudden slam. Deciding to start small, he takes aim at the man who shot first off the bat, turning and whipping a yoyo through the air to smack into Kenji's side.
And some moment of strange, unbidden loyalty forces him to reply to Grigori, though he does so in his typical flat deadpan: "It's not. Believe me."
COMBATSYS: Haru has joined the fight here.
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Haru 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Kenji
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Grigori 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: Kenji blocks Grigori's Medium Throw.
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Haru 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Kenji
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Grigori 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: Haru successfully hits Kenji with Medium Fling.
- Power hit! -
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Haru 0/-------/-------|===----\-------\0 Kenji
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Grigori 0/-------/-----==|
With his arm seized and then his collar grabbed, Kenji's eyes widen while he realizes where he's going-- up, and subsequently down. But he's quick to recover, literally -throwing- his legs down to land on the table rather than his back, his hands holding onto the great Russian's arm. His eyes are wide, of course, amazed that he could keep himself from a fate worse than steak stains on his jacket.
Releasing his arm, he pushes off to one side, twisting hard to catch the edge of the table and flip himself over. His landing is makeshift and hard, splattering on the seating before falling to the floor.
"Why mister giant, I do believe the party's just startin'!"
Or so he says... right up until he stands, the small yo-yo clobbering him in the ribs -but- good.
"AUGH~!"
He literally flops to the side, smashing into tables and pitching forward into the floor.
"OW!!"
He declares it angrily, standing up and shaking his head hard. His hair flops a bit, but still feathers back to the original position-- for this young man takes good care of his looks. Not for being the manly-man routine that Grigori constantly puts forth, but his own subtle charm!
Reeling back his arm, Kenji's mouth cocks into a grin and his eyes narrow... and then springing into the air. It's a bit modified for the difference in height, but Mr. Secretary whips around in a hard circle, trying to plant his foot across the side of his opponent's head-- and still have enough momentum to be facing him when he lands.
"Ease up on the yo-yo, man!"
COMBATSYS: Grigori blocks Kenji's Revolver.
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Haru 0/-------/-------|====---\-------\0 Kenji
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Grigori 0/-------/-----==|
To Grigori's surprise, Kenji doesn't break the table in half; instead, the wiry young man swings his legs down and lands with a noisy clatter, drawing an odd look from the blue-eyed Russian. A moment after impact, the young man releases and lands oddly on the ground. Black brows knit a touch.
And then he's smacked with a yo-yo?
Glancing aside, pale blue eyes look to Haru, cold features hardened and stern as he sizes the much smaller young man. Who brings children's toys to a fight? Even Haru's deadpan warning falls upon his deaf ears. Worried? Grigori?
Never.
Shaking his head idly, the man turns his eyes back onto Kenji as he pulls himself back to his feet after his less-than graceful fall. Giving the young man a looking-over, the Russian shakes his head again, lips pulling tightly across his face before he offers a low laugh. Even as the young Japanese youth leaps into the air, the man just laughs.
And more as his leg whips out.
A hand snaps up, intercepting the blow before his foot can crush into his face. Giving a shove, he smirks broadly, eyes widening as he moves forward. "Here is a-nother man-rule," the surly Russian offers in a low tone, sneering as he attempts to grab the youth by his throat. Twisting his body, Grigori will attempt to slam the youth down into the floor, pick him up, slam him down again hard and deliver a stern gut-punch.
"The women, they do not like boys who squeal like girls when hit. Take it like man!"
"Sorry," Haru admits. He is sorry, though from his typical delivery you could never tell. Something about the role of 'chaos agent' is making him uncomfortable... he feels a bit like a predator, or perhaps a carrion bird: picking at the carcasses of the dead with relative impunity. Of course, SNF has a long history of fighters who are more than happy to take out their displeasure with a Chaos Agent in a rather literal way, and Haru studied plenty of SNF backfootage before he ever signed up for it. He's ready for the worst case scenario.
Whirling through the air, the yoyo snaps back into Haru's hand with the distinctive sound of the heavy metal slapping into his palm. Grigori's an interesting one, isn't he? Chock full of man advice... and after all, wasn't that the point of this fight? To teach Kenji the masculine ways of picking up chicks? Considering he himself isn't much of a success in that department, the yoyo-using Gedo senior is taking it all in with grim amusement.
He frowns at the accusation of squealing, though, and the look he gets from Grigori. Kenji didn't squeal.
"Maybe I should go without future comment," he says, before turning and lashing out with the yoyo a second time, this time moving in to closer range and looking to snag it around Grigori's arm like a whip as the Russian attacks. If he gets the grip, he turns and with a flick of the wrist, spins Grigori into a nearby table, hard. Let Howard pay for the damages.
COMBATSYS: Kenji blocks Grigori's Combo Throw.
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Haru 0/-------/-------|=====--\-------\0 Kenji
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Grigori 0/-------/----===|
Once again, Kenji meets the air-- his throat grabbed in Grigori's large hand and spiked into the floor. It's almost like he bounces, from the second slam-- but when the fist comes down, it meets distinct resistance-- in the form of both of Kenji's hands, palms turned out to catch the striking fist.
"Hoo! Dangerous."
That's when Haru strikes, throwing the next attack at the tall Russian. Trying to plan his manuvers a little more than he usually does, it leads Kenji to twisting hard, rolling off to the side and trying his best for a bastardized martial arts roll. Ending up in a crouch, he uses that position to follow up and spring...
Kenji's right hand bursts into that white-blue flame one more time, the light filling the room and forcing the SNF staff to once again be glad they have a little bit of light compensation for the likes of him. Reaching out, he tries to grab Grigori by the face, and with a -very- sudden surge of strength, pull the man -off- his feet and -spike- his head into the floor.
"URRRRRRRRRAGH-!!"
A burst of chi erupts from the ground -below- the man's head, and it has enough force to launch him back into the air.
"Try that one on for size!"
COMBATSYS: Haru successfully hits Grigori with Medium Throw.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
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Haru 0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0 Kenji
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Grigori 0/-------/--=====|
COMBATSYS: Grigori fails to counter Claymore from Kenji with Haures.
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Haru 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\0 Kenji
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Grigori 1/-------/=======|
As far as Grigori is concerned, Kenji squealed.
For all his attempts to slam the kid brutally into the ground, Grigori is met with another lack of success. Frowning sharply, the man just steps back and sneers at Kenji, pale eyes half-lidded in sarcastic amusement as he stares him down. The man begins to speak, to likely make fun of Kenji in bad English (or Japanese) when he's suddenly snared by a yo-yo, his meaty arm before he's spun into a table.
It immediately splinters on impact.
And just when the man grunts in annoyance and begins to slowly pick himself up off the ground, the kid is charging in and grabbing him by the face--despite the Russian's attempts to snare him in kind--shoving him back into the floor with a spike of chi that launches him up and sends him falling unceremoniously down into the pile of broken table he'd previously laid upon.
The Russian man does not look happy.
In fact, Grigori's eye ticks, his square jaw set in a tight, painfully firm fashion as his eyes glare up at the ceiling overhead. Is the man angry? All signs point to a loud, glaring yes. It only becomes evident when a hand coils tightly and lifts...before it slams down fiercely on the splintered wood, a noisy clatter of broken pieces of table echoing around him.
For all the attacking he's been doing, Haru hasn't actually moved much, as the snakelike motion of his yoyo snapping back to his hand attests to. That being said, he seems a bit surprised at how effective his strikes have been, though mentally he puts it down to distraction; force a man to split his attention and you've done half the work, as far as tactics go. However, Grigori's sudden burst of fury takes him aback, actually causing him to move backward a step, blinking. He did just get hit a lot, but there's something... unsettling about the purity of that rage... and Haru definitely reminds himself again that the Chaos Agent is only protected from the fighters if they WANT to ignore him.
It bodes ill.
For a second, he opens his mouth to say something, and then immediately thinks better of it, mouth suddenly slamming shut. Maybe now isn't the time for witty banter. His gaze flickers over to Kenji, assessing the Guardian King for a moment. Tit for tat... one blow for Kenji, one for Grigori, which suggests that Kenji's time is come yet again. "Sorry about this, Ashima," he murmurs, fingers curling and uncurling around the yoyo in his palm. "But it's in the contract."
What comes next is amazingly telegraphed, the grey-black whirling weapon scything through the air with a whistling sound as Haru spins and, driving close to Kenji to make the swing carry enough power, looks to just slam the yoyo right into the side of his head.
COMBATSYS: Haru successfully hits Kenji with Fierce Strike.
- Power hit! -
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Haru 0/-------/------=|=======\=------\1 Kenji
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Grigori 1/-------/=======|
He launches!!
Kenji looks up, following the man's arc and twisting, stepping back to keep himself clear of the fall and the debris to fly. He's quick enough to prevent his demise there, but not quick enough to react after hearing that fateful line-- that apology from one of his schoolmates. "Huh-?"
*FWAK*
Carried off to the side, reeling, his eyes clamp shut while his jaw hangs. Kenji staggers, arms thrown out to the sides and finally sprawling out into a table's booth to find comfort and relaxation for a tenth of a second on an empty, soft, plush pleather-encased seat. "... Ow."
Rising suddenly, Kenji points at the tall Russian with confidence. His eyes even narrow, his expression becomes darkened and serious. "If you're a 'real man,' then I'll be glad not being one!!"
"HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA--"
A light show fills the room as his fist pulls back and thrusts downward, his other hand gripping onto his wrist as if to steady it. Wild, fierce light -explodes- from his knuckles and consumes the whole of his arm, even trumpeting up into the air. Though it's a dull roar, that stupidly bright light is actually... comfortably warm?
Obnoxious, certainly, but that's the way Kenji likes it-- likes himself, even!
COMBATSYS: Kenji gathers his will.
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Haru 0/-------/------=|=======\=====--\1 Kenji
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Grigori 1/-------/=======|
For a good, solid minute, Grigori just glares at the ceiling, pale eyes watching a lonely ceiling fan slowly spin above him without missing a beat. Angry, the Russian continues to let his jaw seize up, long, calloused digits digging at the table's splinters and the chunks of debris haloed around his massive frame. Already, the man's fingertips begin to bleed.
But sheer will and spite pull the man off the floor, eyes wide and an eyelid still ticking irregularly as he glares at the student council member. Just when he's standing there...he's suddenly sent reeling to the side, tumbling and sprawling over a table. It sends a family scattering, and a loud, cold bark of a laugh from the Russian.
"Enjoy eternal boyhood and sex-less life then, mál'chik," the man simply replies, lips pulling further back over his white teeth as he stares Kenji down. But then...he explodes with energy...blinding the room.
The hairs on Grigori's neck stand on end and the man is suddenly alert and irritable, like a feral dog looking to bite whatever moves. It's the stuff he hates so much, the energy that seems all in abundance in this town. It's the stuff he thought he'd gotten away from, those years ago. And now, every time he fights...he has to face it.
Over, and over and over again. It reminds him of times long-since past, but times he can't forget.
A horrible snarl escapes the man, hands clenching into painfully-tight fists at his side as his shoulders violently shake. An odd blueish haze begins to permeate from his form, like heat on a scorching summer horizon, barely visible. While Kenji poses minimal threat, as far as the Russian is concerned...it's that damned energy of his. He's angry again, and it angers him. He's slipping again--too easily.
The man jerks his head to the side, a fierce gesture that's coupled with a low growl through clenched teeth as his eyes press shut. A twitch of his head sharply follows, eyes slowly opening...before catching sight of a stray glass. A cold, cruel smirk edges over his lips. He calms, a bit--just barely, evident by that perpetual tick that lingers in his eyelid.
Grabbing the bottle, the Russian turns to face Kenji and, with a jerk of his hand, brings the bottle up and crushes half of it right across his chest. Wordlessly, the man charges forward at the Gedo youth, disregarding the other student present and his yo-yos in favor of reeling back with the glass and attempting to gouge the poor, scrawny young man right in the chest, chi be damned.
He's wincing even as the weapon comes back to his hand a third time, Haru is; he hadn't expected to hit Kenji quite that hard, but it's easy enough to tell when you end up clocking someone pretty firmly. Perhaps Kenji and Grigori both are lucky that Haru's physical strength is in no way his strong suit... and in fact, Haru is grateful a bit too. Why?
"Something about this 'chaos agent' business... I'm not sure I like it," he says conversationally, though he is entirely drowned out by Kenji's over-the-top lightshow and Grigori's sudden implication that the Gedo student secretary is headed for a life of utter celibacy. "But you gotta do what you gotta do." It's what he told Marisol, it's what he keeps telling himself, too. Show up, do the job, collect a check. Hopefully everyone will understand in the end. Right? Right.
Then the broken glass comes out, and Haru's face goes from neutral to a reasonable frown. It's not that he doesn't like weapons -- how could he not? -- but there's something about the brandishing of broken glass that sets his teeth on edge... and it's without his customary apology and such that he suddenly springs into motion. A hand shoots upward, not toward Grigori but toward the ceiling... and specifically a light fixture. Snapping the yoyo tight around the thick central support, Haru kicks off the ground and all but attempts to Tarzan Grigori right in the face. Inventive, perhaps, but hella slow... any experienced fighter would seem him coming a mile away. Of course, that doesn't always mean they're in a position to do something about it...
COMBATSYS: Kenji blocks Grigori's Random Weapon.
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Haru 0/-------/------=|=======\=====--\1 Kenji
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Grigori 0/-------/=======|
Eternal boyhood? Sex-less life?! Not by the skin of his teeth, old man!
Through the light show, the white and blue fire and flames, Kenji can clearly see what's going on with Grigori-- the sudden surge of anger, and the sudden smashing of a bottle across his own chest. It startles him a bit, his stance shifting to something that you could almost call 'defensive' for the likes of Kenji Ashima. Bringing the glowing hand up, it breaks out of the flames and tries to clap his hands upon it like he were trying to catch a swordblade-- shoving, even, trying to keep it from gouging too deep. The glass bites in regardless, and struggling against the strength of the Russian is proving to be somewhat futile.
But there's Haru, leaping in one more time. Be it intentional from Grigori's sudden change of weaponry or not, it gives him a chance to push the bottle away from doing great harm-- as well as reminding him of his proximity to Grigori.
He steps in close, looking to give Grigori stiff punch to the stomach, following up with a harsh, angry -shove- to unsteady him...
"Here I go-!!"
COMBATSYS: Kenji successfully hits Grigori with Burst Fire.
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Haru 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Kenji
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Grigori 1/----===/=======|
COMBATSYS: Grigori blocks Haru's Heavy Kick.
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Haru 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Kenji
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Grigori 1/---====/=======|
He shoves, and Kenji takes a long step in, his stance spread wider than it probably ever should be. His arms-- both of them-- reel back, and one can almost -hear- the muscles and tendons tightening up all over his body. From his fingers to his shoulders, across his back and chest, even a bit of visible tension in his neck.
"Burst!!"
And then he just starts -punching-. The strikes seem almost -too- wild to be blind, but too swift and angry to be perfectly controlled. Kenji's arms look more like rubber than limbs at this point, throwing a constant stream of punches up, down, and all around Grigori's torso. Even his fists don't seem normal for someone his age, his build-- like his arms end at the wrist, and slabs of stone are set on top. Each punch runs in a segmented burst-- after three seconds of punching, he reaches out and grabs Grigori by the arm, pulling him hard to the side-- and then starting up again. Another burst, and then he pulls the Russian the opposite direction. Back, forth, even a shove ahead and a pull closer, all of it designed to beat someone senseless and constantly keep them off their bearings.
Finally, a break in the stream comes as Kenji reaches out to grab the man by the shirt, pulling him in closer to flat-out shoulder check him as hard as he possibly can, his feet even leaving the ground and trying to launch himself into the large man like a projectile.
Kenji lands on his feet, but breathes hard, clearly winded after that much speed and power thrown into that much of a window of time.
Straightening up, he shakes out his welt-covered hands and shifts his footing, looking to his opponent with narrowed eyes. "And that's the fire of youth!"
Unfortunately, whatever Haru muses aloud goes unheard; the Russian is focused entirely on Kenji, even as the young Gedo student council member erupts with chi. He hates him for that alone; so much so he's intent on stabbing the poor young man clean in the chest without a shred of remorse. Why bother? The man is a compassionless being, as far as he is concerned.
To his private dismay, the youth somehow manages to stave off the sheer brunt of Grigori's strike, struggling against the man's attempts to drive that ragged sharp edge into the student's chest. Eventually he relents, and just in time--Haru catches his peripheral, that swing noted and dealt with by twisting his arm and intercepting the face-strike with a meaty arm, to send him elsewhere.
He wants to deal with Kenji, and he gets it.
The punch strikes the man in his stomach, his hand too slow to intercept the blow. Off balance, the man is only spared a moment to stare at the kid in disbelief. Then? A punching party, the Russian man's body jerked at odd intervals and repeatedly punched again before he's simply shoulder-checked and sent sprawling to the ground with a very loud, very heavy thud.
He lays for a moment, eyes staring up at the ceiling. How does he continue to get himself into these situations, he wonders. Why does he let himself continually get humiliated by people...half his age, or worse? It works his nerves, continues to fray already-frayed sanity. And yet...
Peeling himself off the floor, the man laughs, a low, deep rumbling affair that sends his body into jerky shivers. "Fire of youth? That shit? Pfah. Fignjá." Turning his head, the man spits in disgust before he looks back and sneers. Only briefly do his eyes drift, peering at Haru from the corner of his pale blue eyes.
Then they're back on Kenji.
"Is joke, yes?" he asks, still sneering and offering a helpless shrug. And then, without further warning, he tears forward and attempts to punch Kenji in the throat--hard--and disarm him.
COMBATSYS: Grigori successfully hits Kenji with Asmodeus.
- Power hit! -
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Haru 0/-------/-----==|=======\=------\1 Kenji
[ \\\\\\\\ <
Grigori 0/-------/-------|
The moment Grigori's fist makes contact, the man offers a horrible sneer.
"This is what I think of 'fire of youth,'" he offers quietly to the young man...before he snaps a leg out and forward, to forcefully rip the young man's feet out from underneath his body as his hands jerk out, shoving Kenji downward. Once he falls, he kicks the kid in the ribs.
But it's not over.
His legs part a bit, shoulders squared as he just stares down at the young Gedo student at his feet. But, slowly, blue eyes widen, pupils dilating as his body tenses up from shoulders to legs. He kneels slightly...and leaps up.
Heavy boot heels ascend...and descend.
Right onto Kenji's chest, all two-hundred and fifty pounds of Grigori.
Hard.
For the first time this evening, Haru does something other than simply snap a yoyo back into his hand. Having been sent back the way he came by Grigori's defense, with surprising dexterity Haru lands from his swing on a nearby table, neatly planting his feet between a plate holding the remains of a t-bone and a carafe of cheap wine; with a flick of the wrist he does indeed bring his impromptu swingline back to his hand, but at least he got to make the nifty dismount first. Sadly, there's no one to hold up an appropriate scorecard.
However, getting down off the ceiling took up most of his attention; by the time he's ready to turn around and start the whole process over again, he's just in time to see Grigori all but stomp Kenji into the ground, face first. Wincing in sympathetic pain, he finds himself unmotivated to actually attack; the idea of being some predator on the fight has already been gnawing at him, and now with both fighters bruised and bloody, he feels his duty's been discharged. There was chaos; he can collect his check and go.
But something seems off.
With a short hop, the Gedo senior sits himself on the edge of another nearby, empty table, watching both fighters carefully. He can't step in, nor does he really want to; he doubts Kenji would ever forgive him for that. But an intuition, some part of his subconscious mind, doesn't want to leave him 'alone' with Grigori. So he waits.
Well, and delivers commentary.
"Kicking either of you while you're down seems like a stupid thing to do. I'm interested in seeing how this argument pans out, though." He sounds languid, but he's tense, though were he asked, Haru would be hard-pressed to say why...
COMBATSYS: Haru takes no action.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Haru 0/-------/-----==|=======\=------\1 Kenji
[ \\\\\\\\ <
Grigori 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Grigori has saved the state of this fight.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Haru 0/-------/-----==|=======\=------\1 Kenji
[ \\\\\\\\ <
Grigori 0/-------/-------|
With all the injuries that Kenji Ashima's taken in the last year or so, there's a new injury added to the list every day, one more thing where he can stand up and say, 'Whoa, that hurt.' It's like the scars on the side of an old battleship, something he can be proud of! It's just that, at the moment of the injury... he'snot as appreciative.
His eyes widen, a slight twitch of muscle under his eye while the air is suddenly no longer able to traverse his throat. Then he's on his back, like he's looking up at the sky-- making him wonder how that had happened, and why the back of his head suddenly hurts! He's kicked hard, and flops much like a beaten old rag doll. It finally ends when the man's landing on his chest, his arms and legs throwing upward on the impact. There's an audible cracking noise, but it's hard to tell if it's Kenji or the floor under his back.
So he lays there, eyes half-lidded and vacant, long enough for one of the staff members of Saturday Night Fight to step out with a first aid kit and take a knee next to him--
And then on his own steam, Kenji Ashima just -sits up-.
-Cheerfully-.
hough he's clearly hurting, the upbeat attitude he keeps and the adrenaline screaming through his veins seem to be what keep him even -standing- while the SNF staffer takes a step back, out of the small 'arena.'
Kenji clamps a hand down on his shoulder, his right arm reeling around in circles. "I haven't been hit that hard since forever! That was pretty sweet." Yes, even now, even with that much damage and looking like he's been run through the ringer, Missile Fist Ashima fully intends to continue.
Shaking out his right arm a bit more, he twists at the waist, arm cocked back a bit like he were getting ready to throw more punches.
COMBATSYS: Kenji gains composure.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Haru 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1 Kenji
[ \\\\\\\\ <
Grigori 0/-------/-------|
The moment Grigori's heels impact Kenji, a sickeningly delighted smirk eases over his mouth.
Heels crunch into the young man's sternum and chest, a horrible, audible crack erupting upon impact, leaving the poor Gedo student looking like he's on death's door. It triggers concern, a SNF medic coming forward as the Russian man steps off the young man's chest, chuckling darkly to himself. Slowly, he begins to turn away and walk off. The fight is over, as far as Grigori is concerned, and that's good. He's tired.
But then commotion draws his attention. What..?
He's still awake?
A mix of anger and disbelief seizes Grigori's cold features, pale eyes wide as he faces the young Gedo student council member once more. He only pauses briefly, glancing aside at Haru as he speaks, looking at the other student with equal disbelief. He didn't attack..?
Scoffing low, the man's eyes snap shut, his square jaw set tightly on his face as he seethes privately. The compliment IS noted, and eases the Russian up a bit...in fact, it draws the fierce scowl into the makings of a light smirk, pale blue eyes slowly drawing open once more. "Is that so? Well," Pausing, Grigori chuckles, shaking his head. "Spasiba. Thanks.
"Alright, is time for final man lesson." Grigori's expression is serious.
"Never stop. Real man never stops. Gya ha ha ha!" What does that mean?
Charging forward, he gives Kenji no quarter as he attempts to maneuver around and lashes out for his throat. At the same time, Grigori swings his legs out, attempting to grab the young student by his waist from the side and draw his weight backwards, taking the student with. Should he succeed, the man maneuvers his body, pinching Kenji's leg in place with his left leg and pinning it in place under his left arm, applying considerable amounts of pressure before he twists sharply.
Only then will he rise cautiously up and stare the young man down.
A faint smile crosses Haru's face as Kenji returns from the seeming dead; in fact, he even gets up and helps the stunned SNF first aid type step away from the fight area, knowing that if she sticks around she's going to get hurt. That's Gedo tenacity, right there; no matter how hard you smack 'em, they pop right back up like crabgrass... although Haru himself doesn't seem to fit that particular way of thinking too much lately. The grateful nurse is led back to the cameramen, and Haru himself stays right there. He didn't go after Kenji, and his sense of fairness won't let him go after Grigori, either.
And even that sense of sudden worry is gone. Curious, and the expression of mild interest or amusement at the fact shows on his face.
An SNF crewman hands him a cup of water, and he takes it with a nod, sipping. There's a whispered comment from the man, and Haru just grins at him, indicating the fighters on the field with the cup. "No," he says evenly, "I'm NOT getting in the middle of that just now, thanks. I'm being paid to spice up the process, not get myself killed." Sip.
COMBATSYS: Haru takes no action.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Haru 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1 Kenji
[ \\\\\\ <
Grigori 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Kenji blocks Grigori's Decarabia.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Haru 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1 Kenji
[ \\\\\\ <
Grigori 0/-------/------=|
As Grigori charges forward, Kenji's hand claws as it lowers to his side, his eyes still wide and alert. With no scream, amazingly enough, the energy bursts and screams up the length of his arm-- and with both forearms, allowing the crushing blow to the throat to rain against his limbs. But in a surprising first for this fight, Kenji stops it there. No clever, comical landings, no witty retorts--
--just a blue line of light piercing Grigori's chest, and beyond.
The secretary's left leg leads in first, slamming into the floor with enough power to rattle the wood underfoot.
"SET!!"
His right arm comes into line with the blue light as that warm energy surges to his fist, compressing like some kind of small ball of absolute fury. When his fist crosses into it, he telegraphs a high-speed punch that follows that direct, angry line with the intent of slamming the Russian right in the middle of the chest. The chi contained in his punch likewise bursts-- releasing a massive shockwave out from the point of impact and pressing on well beyond the brutal fighter and rattling tables, shoving silverware off the tables, and causing whatever papers or napkins or tablecloths to flap around wildly in the wind. It also has enough force to shove someone like Grigori off his feet, if he's lucky. And what does he scream through the swing in plain English?
"RAIL GUN!!"
COMBATSYS: Kenji successfully hits Grigori with Rail Gun.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Haru 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Kenji
[ <
Grigori 0/-------/--=====|
The line of blue is faintly observed, but otherwise ignored. It doesn't hurt, why mess with it?
But then, Kenji yells and stomps a foot. Frowning darkly, the Russian glares at the kid, who stuffed his attack with a bit of effort. Where once the man was calm, he's now angry again. He can feel the hairs standing on end on his neck, his eyelid twitching in frustration as he just glares at Kenji. Only briefly do his eyes dart aside, noting Haru. Isn't he supposed to be attacking people..?
His thoughts are far from the other student as Kenji's fist crashes into his chest, causing the Russian to execute a loud 'hwarf' noise as he's rocked backwards, blasted further by a burst of chi that shoves him into a wall. The man sticks there for a moment before he stumbles forward. Felled? No. Staggered beyond belief? Yes.
Coughing deeply, the man rubs his chest, eyes pressed shut as he struggles for coherency. He can still attack this kid, he decides. He can still punch him until HE stops moving. Blue eyes slowly open, glaring heatedly--hatefully--at the Gedo boy in front of him. And slowly...he smirks viciously.
With the last vestiges of his strength he charges forward and draws a hand back, long calloused fingers drawing into a steel-like knife hand before he strikes it at the student. Drawing it back swiftly, he attempts to elbow Kenji right in the face before he recoils it and lifts a leg up. Pressing it firmly into his stomach, he'll attempt to shove the kid in the stomach, right for the wall behind him with a feral snarl.
But either way, after that, the man is unable to move on.
COMBATSYS: Grigori can no longer fight.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Haru 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Kenji
COMBATSYS: Grigori successfully hits Kenji with Cimejes.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > // ]
Haru 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Kenji
Breathing heavily after throwing that massive punch, it looks like it took a lot more out of the young Ashima brawler than he had let on-- he hit, he did pretty good...! And it should've just knocked the huge Russian flat over and ended it all, right there.
But it doesn't.
Dismay takes over his face, his expression falling flat and his tired eyes wide. "Oh you've gotta be--"
Trying to twist away from the strike, the hand, the combination with the elbow-- and then finally the fierce shove toward the wall. Kenji's twist doesn't work to his advantage... and it does send him back, staggering on his wheeled boot-sneakers and slamming into the wall. Slumping down, his legs try to catch under him, his head throws forward, and he supports himself on his hands and knees.
Gasping for breath, hands and arms shaking, it looks like Kenji isn't going to be able to throw one more of those insane strikes tonight.
COMBATSYS: Kenji takes no action.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Haru 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: Kenji can no longer fight.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Haru 0/-------/-----==|
With great interest, Haru observes the end of the fight with otherwise impressive sang-froid; Kenji's final burst sends a plate whirling through the air right by his ear like a discus, for example; Haru doesn't move, but the SNF crew suddenly dive for cover. But when all's said and done, it would appear things ended in a draw. Taking a final sip of his water, he shrugs. "I guess we'll never know who was right on the manhood question," he observes. That he was secretly pulling for Kenji, well... the audience probably already thinks that, so let them draw their own conclusions.
Even as the announcer declares the draw, Haru gets up and snags the frightened nurse from before, taking her by the arm and leading her over to Grigori and Kenji. Now's the time for her to do her job, after all.
Log created on 22:11:26 04/11/2008 by Grigori, and last modified on 16:42:49 04/16/2008.