Description: Starring Denzel Washington as Geese Howard?! In this terribly backdated scene, K' endures his first training session with his new instructor: Geese Howard. Forebodingly, Geese holds it in the same place where he abused Rock into the fighter he is today... and predictably, it all ends in pain and -ppukens.
It's been a long time since Geese Howard has had any real students.
The last was his son, a dismal failure despite the obvious potency of the blood in his veins. When they would train, Howard didn't use any of the plethora of homes he owned. There were no rich estates to pamper the young heir of the -illustrious- Howard legacy. He was taught the same way Geese was; from the bottom up.
To that effect, Howard had bought out one of the many abandoned warehouses scattered across the city of Southtown and carved it in his vission of a truly appropriate training ground. It stands to this day; a large building nestled in a far away corner of the city, dingy and unpleasant to look at. The interior is vast, and aside from standard, aging shipping crates, there are a variety of other things -not- unique to a warehouse. Platforms, punching bags, and a large, sectioned-off portion of the warehouse located in its center, its 'arena.' The dust and age of some of this equipment suggest this place has not been used for years now.
Until today, anyway.
Distinctive white gi and red hakama note the presence of the tall and powerful form of Geese Howard himself. Standing in the 'arena' of the warehouse, he stares at the assorted equipment and the dank atmosphere blandly, idly adjusting his forearm guards without much of a second thought. "... Hm. This'll do nicely," the King of Southtown notes as pale blue eyes look towards the platforms, and then down towards the ground. The hard cement is cracked in some places, shattered in others. It brings a nostalgic smile to Geese's lips.
"Those certainly were good times."
He is not here without reason, of course. But for now... the blonde-haired mob boss is content to wait, hands crossing over his broad chest as his gaze continues to sweep, to make sure that everything is in proper order. This place is full of -fond- memories. And for Geese...
It's certainly far past time to make some more.
It's been never since K' had any real teachers. The young, erstwhile experiment has never really had anything but manufacturers... none of whom could ever quite see past his glaring design defect to take him seriously. He had been taught the essentials to be a skilled NESTS agent, and he had picked up many other skills on his own time. But no one had ever really bothered to help him learn to wield the best weapon he had. It's a pity, because even with the flaw it's a force to be reckoned with. Without the flaw... who knows?
It's been precisely a week since his first meeting with Geese Howard. In the interim, he had tried and failed to prepare himself appropriately, not really knowing how to approach the act of readying himself for instruction: especially such one-on-one instruction as this. He had never been paid much attention in his life, and it shows; when he arrives, it's quietly and unobtrusively, the boy's lean form a ghosting shadow that pulls itself free from the dim blackness swathed across the warehouse entrance.
As he closes the distance, he thinks back on the confrontation he had had with Pás not days before. Briefly, he reminds himself he should also pay some attention to how such a veteran as Geese instructs other people. It's something else that'd be nice to know, because he sure as hell feels at a loss for what to do with the capoeirista girl that seems to have taken such a confusing fancy to him.
He puts it from his thoughts quickly, relegating it to the back of his mind. It's something to remember, but he has more pressing things to think about now. Like not getting outright killed. During his measured approach, he'd already appraised the locale with a practiced sweep of his gaze, noting how it's already seemed to have been used-- very brutally-- for some training purpose. He doesn't know this is where Rock had been broken and reforged again and again until he was the fighter he is today, and if he -did- know he was stepping right into Rock's empty spot he'd likely feel a mixture of competitive rancor, apprehension, and a weird anticipation. Not for the utter pain Rock experienced-- he's not a masochist-- but for the results that the pain obviously could bring.
He comes to a slow stop some decently respectful distance from Geese, his momentum dithering off rather than cutting cleanly to a halt. The boy is dressed little differently from how he would dress for a fight, heavy black leather sheathing him near completely to protect his lean frame. "...I'm here," he eventually states, his head slightly lowered, his yellow eyes regarding Geese with that neutral watchfulness he seems to reserve for his new instructor. It's the sort of look one sees on a wild animal standing just outside the reach of firelight: hungry and tempted, but afraid of the flames.
"Of course you are," is Howard's first response to the approach of his new student.
He doesn't even turn to look at K' as the young man steps out of the shadows. Odds are, the King of Southtown knew that the young man was here even before he decided to pipe up. Like the generous man he is, Geese allows K' the time he needs to take in the sights and absorb his surroundings. He's content to stand here he is, hands lowering; the right clasps around his left wrist as he stares out towards one of the nearby warehouse windows.
"I first met Billy Kane in this place," Geese speaks casually. "You remember meeting him, don't you? Back when I actually let this warehouse prosper in my city, he was just another dirty, angry kid trying to make ends meet. I found him here, and I took him in and turned him into the man he is today." His head turns, to regard K' with cold blue eyes. "A champion."
Turning fully, the crime boss shakes his head, a dry smile slithering its way across his lips as he lifts a hand to beckon the former NESTS agent forward. "He's a lot like you. Or he was, when I found him. Angry and unfocused, with nothing except natural talent to really stake claim to. I taught him how to focus and restrain that anger into something useful." Howard narrows his eyes faintly. "Let's see if I can't do the same for you."
When K' should choose to approach the 'arena,' Geese gestures broadly. "Consider this your new home away from him. Learn it well. You're going to be here quite a bit." He shifts, hands clasping behind his back as he turns thoughtful eyes to the genetically-modified teen. "For now, we'll focus on the first lesson, and the most important lesson of all: restraining and controlling all that rage inside of you. It can be useful... if you use it right. Uncontrolled, you're just a flailing moron with a knack for unrefined and unfocused bursts of strength. But control it... and you're a real force to be reckoned with."
K' holds his silence as Geese chooses to reminisce. He remembers Billy mentioning that Geese had taught him, but he had not realized the extent to which the King of Southtown had shaped the champion fighter. Recalling the skill Kane could bring to bear-- the controlled precision and strength-- K' sets his mind even more on getting what he can from Howard's tutelage. Even if it will cost him.
Geese gestures him forward, and at first K' just stiffens like a dog whose leash has been yanked but doesn't really want to comply. It seems that natural hatred of being controlled and commanded about hasn't yet left him, and really: it's debatable whether it ever will. His experiences have set him too firmly against the leash. But for the sake of personal gain, K' can set that hate aside for the time being; and eventually, he manages to force it down now. It galls him, but he eventually comes forwards obediently enough, his slow steps evincing a pulled-teeth reluctance.
Any number of sardonic, acerbic responses leap to the forefront of his mind on the topic of Billy Kane. It's only by a minor miracle he has the presence of mind to stay his tongue, reminding himself he can't blow this by being the ass he usually is. Hating himself for it, he muzzles himself, only letting past a guarded, "Yeah... I -came- so you could do for me what you did for him..." Brutal honesty. He wants the benefit of this badly enough he'll shut his mouth, and in a way that's actually good; he's already learning some measure of self-control, right there. Three years ago he'd have railed at Geese, possibly thrown an attack, and gotten his soul punched clear out for his pains... but by now, he's learned a little bit about how the real world works.
The young man's jaw grits visibly at Geese's assessment of his current graceless style. Teeth threaten to bare, but ultimately K' reins himself in. It's true, but that doesn't make it any easier to hear. To control all his emotionality will be a difficult lesson to learn, and the trouble he'll have in letting go of the crutch of his wild temper is obvious in the way his expression twitches briefly from cold indifference towards that familiar anger to which Geese refers. Realizing his slip, he shuts his eyes and forces it down. It's a moment before he replies.
"How...? How do you train something like that?" He may never have been formally trained, but he knows, on a raw sort of instinctive level, how to handle chi: and potency of emotion and willpower were always the keystones. Which brings him to a different topic: that power of his that is not chi, not psi, but something entirely different from both. "And nothing I ever used to control chi worked with this fire..." He hasn't realized it's because of the differing origins of chi and the bloodline flames: one external, the other from within. He hasn't realized, either, that it's because he himself relies too heavily on the glove as a crutch on a psychological level.
"You came here to get stronger. That's the bottom line. Whether you can or not is entirely up to your own worth and drive to do whatever it takes to be more powerful. -Whatever- it takes." Geese's words come out harshly and decidedly, as if allowing no room for further debate. The facts are simple. Geese can train champions, assuredly. There's no doubt to -his- skill. There's only one person's drive here who is up for question.
Howard makes a rigid turn towards K' as the young man tries to contain those emotions. Geese isn't a dumb or oblivious man; his lips peel into a lifelessly amused smile at the internal struggle. "You're an angry boy. Fortunately for you, that can be used to your favor. The only problem with hate and rage is when you can't learn to control it. When it controls -you-, you end up burning yourself out faster, lobbing out forceful techniques and spraying power every where with no precision and no purpose. It's sloppy and half-assed." Howard lifts a hand into the air, dismissing this tactic with a brief wave.
"That's because you're not trying hard enough. That fire you use is ultimately just power. Chi, Psycho Power, or your little flames. Whatever you want to call them, they all respond to your emotions and your insecurities just as much as anything else. Restrained and focused individuals can control power. For the indecisive, or the weak, or the mindless idiots... the power controls them. It's as simple as that. The only thing keeping you from controlling your flames is control over yourself. That ridiculous glove of yours is hindering you more than its helping." Geese gestures to the contraption on K''s hand with a brief snort, arms crossing over his chest as he looks imperiously towards his new student.
"So we'll work on beating down those little anger issues of yours and tempering that hate into a cold flame. It'll be long. It'll be painful. But at the end, you'll be stronger than you could ever manage on your own. So...
"... are you ready?"
The implications don't fail to hit K' square in the face. The boy's eyes narrow in an expression halfway between a look of challenged aggression, and a stung sulkiness that admits the truth of what Geese says. "I'm familiar enough with 'whatever it takes,'" he retorts, feeling the need to say that. "I'm guessing you know everything about my background already... what of it there IS to know..." He's well-versed enough in the bleak necessity of having to force himself to do things unpleasant or painful just to get by. It's part of why he hates and envies most of the average population so much; he's always had to go to lengths most people never even contemplate, just to preserve his own life.
His 'own worth' is a harder question. K' subsides into a hard silence at that, giving away handily enough that his particular problem is-- as Geese helpfully cites later-- that lack of self-assurance and insecurity that rests at his core. "I feel it all the time," he confesses, struggling with that selfsame anger even as he talks about it. "It's always there. Most of the time I hold it in, but in a fight it seizes me. I can't think through it. It gets worse every time I slip, every time I prove all over again why I got thrown out..."
His imprisoned hand tightens, knuckles grinding against the interior of the glove he relies on so heavily. Visibly, he struggles to hold back the temper that urges him to snap at the implication he's weak and indecisive... controlled by his own power, weak and worthless and prone to slinging power without focus. He recalls what it was he told Hotaru, and the shame of his own statements back then gnaws into him now; visibly, his tall figure folding defensively in on itself. He told her everything Geese is telling him now, but while he was pretty good at throwing the words out, he knew he was severely lacking in being able to follow them through himself.
Hotaru snapped out of it. She escaped the uncontrollable power that burned away at her arm. He envies her that, because he himself doesn't have the luxury of being able to give up that roiling force that lives in uneasy symbiosis with him. No, he has to learn to command it, or else live with the pain and the glove until he dies; and if Geese says self-control is the path that'll get him there, he'll walk it. It'll be hard, because he has to believe he himself can get there; and right now the things holding him back the most are his own undermining lack of worth, his fear of being too flawed to ever gain power over the fire, and the empty void that should have been a full-featured life.
"I have been ready... ever since I first came to see you." He finally straightens, standing unslouched in a rare moment of candidness. He doesn't know how Geese plans to temper him beyond the physical, but for once in his life he's warily leaving himself receptive rather than closing up. And that receptiveness is, ultimately, what will make the difference.
"It's easy enough to make the steps towards control. You'll have to sacrifice, but in the end, trust me when I say it'll be worth it." Howard speaks smoothly, hands folding against his arms and hiding in the depths of his sleeves as his cold blue eyes shift to look towards his renegade experiment of a student. Considering. "... But for you it may take a while. So, let's begin the first step."
Taking a pointed shift forwards, Geese makes his question: are you ready? Howard waits patiently, but the answer comes soon enough after the white-haired boy's own silent mulling. Howard says nothing for a moment after K' responds, seeming to absorb the atmosphere around him. His hands clench into fists, falling to his side. His body lowers, donning that classic, so-very feared fighting stance of his. Geese's chest expands, and contracts as air pushes from his lungs. His expression is stern, cold -- ready to fight.
"Then let's start step one, shall we?"
The words are delivered pointedly with the forward pivot of Howard's body forward, leading off with his right foot. His right arm snaps forward in a sudden, snake-like snap of a strike, his open palm thrusting outward with all the force and fury of a battering ram to bury itself just beneath K''s ribs in a pinpoint strike to take the breath straight from his lungs. "Learning how to use that anger of yours towards concentrated bursts of power rather than unrefined and unfocused explosions."
COMBATSYS: Geese has started a fight here.
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Geese 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: K' has joined the fight here.
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Geese 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 K'
COMBATSYS: Geese successfully hits K' with Quick Punch.
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Geese 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 K'
Yellowy eyes drift downwards, almost threatening to close, and settle a silent gaze on the floor through long lashes. A perceptible shadow crosses K''s young face as Geese talks. It may take a while. The phrase is too close to the deprecation he heard 'growing up.' Too close to all the times he heard that he was too slow to learn, too recalcitrant to new ideas, and too far gone to be efficiently fixed.
It distracts him momentarily. That much should be clear just from a glance; he is far too quick to get hurt or take offense, and far too happy to brood and dwell unhappily over it. He shoots a reply back and lets himself sink into his own negligent stance-- one little more than a simple turning of his strongest side towards the opponent-- but his mind is still elsewhere. Letting his thoughts wander around Geese is a habit K' will soon have beaten out of him, if the harsh sound of that blow circumventing his defense and slamming into him is any indication.
Panting a breath and skidding back in retreat a few paces, K''s gasp for air turns into a wordless, frustrated snarl. He tries to remember how it was he felt when he was fighting K9999, months ago in Ireland. He distinctly recalls there being a point where he was so blindingly, overwhelmingly angry that the world tunnel-visioned down into that incredible, concentrated focus Howard is now trying to teach him to call up on command. His expression vividly reflects that memory, a hint of the rage he felt then burning just under the skin; but none of that cold, brutal premeditation returns to him despite his best efforts. His eyes narrow, he hisses out a sharp breath, and soon enough whatever passed for an attempt to calculate dumps all its half-realized efforts into one vicious lunge.
To his credit, the attack that comes out isn't completely sloppy. But recklessness is written plainly in every movement of it, the snapped blow clearly sacrificing any defense in favor of rushing to inflict pain. K''s lean frame goes from stationary to aggressively airborne in half a blink, coiling in midair in order to wind up momentum. The release of that accumulated force whipcracks once K' is in range, a swinging kick cutting air straight at Howard's face.
COMBATSYS: Geese blocks K''s Minutes Spike.
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Geese 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 K'
One blow. One blow is all it takes to snap K' back to reality, accompanied soon after by a berating roar from the young man's new teacher. "You must ALWAYS stay focused in a fight! Lack of attention points to incompetence, not skill!" And with a blow that could crack solid stone in half, Howard drives his student backwards, not even remotely holding back an ounce of his strength as the force pours forward.
"-That- is what you have to achieve," Geese states plainly in the aftermath of the blow, his hand snapping effortlessly back to his side as he gives a short hop backwards. "Concentrate your source of strength into one singularly powerful blow. Yours is your rage, but you have no control over it." Geese frowns briefly, his hands slowly lifting again. "Not yet, anyway. We'll fix that."
K' comes in soon afterwards in a suddenly swift and brutal lunge. The movement -is- fast, fast enough to almost take Howard by surprise. Almost. A reckless run to try and capitalize on any perceived opening. But what K' encounters is not an opening. What he encounters is a palm colliding with his foot, stopping it in mid-motion with a sudden strain of effort. Dirt kicks up all around them, even as Howard smiles dryly. His right hand, his -free- hand, flares with cerulean chi, sparks of terrible life surging in the palm of his hand.
"Good, but what of your defenses?" And in one blinding movement, Howard surges forward; his left palm still pressed against K''s foot, his right sweeps up in a diagonal motion. Blue chi explodes with vigorous life across the space between himself and K' in one efficiently fast and controlled movement, a white-hot searing slash of power to carve into K' from left hip to right shoulder. "Don't put your proverbial eggs in one basket when the fight has only just begun, boy. Restrain yourself, and -wait- for a perfect opening to unleash that fury."
COMBATSYS: K' endures Geese's Slash-style Reppuken.
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Geese 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 K'
K' bites down on the instinctive sharp retort that floods to the forefront of his mind at Geese's beration. Skidding wordlessly to a halt, expression locked in that halfway point between frustrated anger and a token attempt at restraint, he shakes his head and concentrates on breathing. His lean shoulders rise and fall slowly, his slumped back and lowered head evidence enough of the struggle it is just to keep a leash on his tongue and temper.
Stay focused. Concentrate. Sharpen that emotionality into a tool. K' grasps slowly at the concept, trying to reconcile it with the violent nature he's developed over the years. Eventually he just throws a sharp kick, obeying that clamoring urge to just cause some perceptible damage, but as soon as Geese -catches- his attack K' realizes his error. He forgot about his defenses, and Howard is quick to zero in on that failing.
Were K' not so determined to reap the benefits of Geese's instruction, it's debatable whether he would have been able to put up with it at all. His ego and sense of worth are a horribly fragile things, and having his mistakes picked apart like this is almost more than he can handle. Geese's insinuations that he CAN surpass and improve are just about all that keep him going... that, and the bitter knowledge that his failings DO necessitate the attentions of a practiced teacher. Even if said teacher has no problem with carving him open from hip to shoulder.
Geese was right about this much: he neglected his defenses. He's left with no option but to just -take- the slicing energy, a sound of pain quickly strangling off in his throat. He lets the force of it take him backwards, but in midair he twists like a cat to regain control of his orientation. A flare of fire surges to life about him, trailing in a ribbon-like pattern around him and along his path; mid-flight, he spins agilely and smashes the fires right back at Geese in one searing bolt of flames. "But I always lived--" he manages once he's hit ground again, sliding to a rickety but upright halt, "--by killing faster than I could get killed..."
COMBATSYS: Geese overcomes Second Shoot from K' with Reppuken.
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Geese 0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0 K'
K' certainly has potential. Geese wouldn't be training him if he didn't. Even Geese Howard doesn't feign this much interest in complete losers. Those flames of his are potent, already proven throughout the entire history of the Kusanagi and Yagami clans. And if Howard can refine K''s own skills to control it without the need for NESTS' crutches, well --
Geese earns a valuable asset. And Geese is ever the opportunistic businessman.
But it will be a long struggle, evidenced as much in K''s impulsively reckless assault to start out the session. There is a mild sting that runs across Howard's arm as he stops the attack short, but little more than that. And the retribution comes as swift as the assault that K' laid out, if not faster. Scores of scorching fire ignite the air in bubbling masses of pure, icy-hot power. And there is little even the 'Beast of Prey' can do but to accept the full brunt of the assault. But not without a plan, apparently. Even as fire catches and quickly snuffs out across K''s torso, he is twisting, spinning and igniting fires against his glove.
The moment that Howard sees the crimson flames of the legendary Kusanagi clan spring to life, he acts. Before K' even completes his technique, cold blue fire swells across Geese's left arm. And even as his right snaps back from the sudden exertion of power, his left is sweeping forward, the spherical mass of power suddenly blooming into a full-blown, fiery mass with one distinct cry: "REPPUKEN!"
The clash lasts all of a few seconds that could seem like an eternity to some. Crimson meets cerulean in a brutal an explosive clash of force before the upwards mass of energy of the Reppuken cuts through K''s assault, dissipating the mystic fire. A good mass of Howard's assault is blown off in the processes, but the remnants blaze with furious life with one target: K'.
"I didn't ask for excuses. The candles that burn the brightest burn out the quickest," comes Howard's cold reply. "You'll unlearn that inefficient way of fighting. Learn to reserve your power to punish the weak at prime opportunities. To show no mercy. But you'll be better than all the masses of thoughtless simpletons out there, better than Kusanagi's idiotic showboating. Even if I have to beat it into you. But don't worry...
"... you'll thank me later."
COMBATSYS: K' blocks Geese's Reppuken.
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Geese 0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0 K'
Potent, yes. The Kusanagi flames are not just powerful, but unique among all the forms of energy of the world for their persistence and indistinguishability from corporeal, true fire. Well-- indistinguishable save for the one difference between the flames and mundane fire: the sacred qualities that imbue Kusanagi fire with an ineffable mysticism. In the right hands, Kusanagi fire is a deadly weapon. But does K' count as 'the right hands?'
Not now, he doesn't. The glove gives him control of the fire, but he does not understand enough to control the flames for himself. This contributes to the ease with which is fire is nullified, a sudden gout of distinctive blue chi overwhelming even those holy flames. Landing bare instants before the Reppuken makes contact with his face, K' grasps at what scraps of fire linger about his lean frame and throws his arms before him in a flame-reinforced cross. The force of it breaks on his block, blue chi scattering from the fire pulled defensively about his forearms.
In the aftermath the boy cuts his arms downwards sharply, slinging the flames from them as if they were water, and tries to recollect his jarred wits. He focuses on Geese slowly, letting the words filter into his consciousness. It all registers, on some level... but what really pierces through and gets his full and undivided attention is the mention of being better. Better than everyone else. Better than Kusanagi. It's clear from the way his eyes sharpen how much he wants it.
Punishing the weak, showing no mercy... I thought I was already there, he wants to say. His experiences have certainly taught him quite quickly that his NESTS-forged mindset checks in at 'unremittingly vicious' when compared to nienty-eight percent of the fighters that parade around in the circuits. The objection gleams in his eyes, the boy drawing a breath as though to give voice to it... but finally, he reluctantly just stays silent. He can already hear how that'll be shut down, and too much experience being on the receiving end of beatings and beratings-- his every attempted retort shot out of the sky-- has taught him when to stay silent and let the hot anger rot into resentment.
"...You make it sound like I don't want it," he says instead. For once, he doesn't move to attack, doesn't lunge in... he just stands right where he is, watching Geese carefully. Maybe he's already learning. "But I do. And I'll do it your way to get it."
COMBATSYS: K' focuses on his next action.
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Geese 0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0 K'
"There's a distinct difference between -thinking- you show no restraint to the weak and actually capitalizing on weakness. A thing you can't learn just by taking impassive training sessions from nameless fools." Geese's words come sharply even as K' remains silent. The King of Southtown is nothing if not observant; the look of defiance in K''s eyes is met with simple fact; or at least, words that are delivered with all the authority of something that is absolute. "You're a violent young man, but kicking someone when they're down doesn't make you merciless. It requires thought, planning -- and most importantly, exploitation of a person's weakness. There are no rules in a fight, K', remember that.
"Anyone that tells you differently are just the losers of the world."
But then... K' waits. He holds himself back, watching. Planning. Geese eyes him carefully with pale blue eyes, a thin smile crawling across his lips as he lifts his hands once more. "Better. And whether you want it or not is irrelevant."
And then, Geese lashes out. One bounding stride takes Howard across the scant distance between himself and K', his right hand lashing out like a whipcord. He attempts to grip K' by the face and, should he succeed, he will squeeze and lift. "Don't -tell- me... -show- me! HMPH!!" And from there, he'll just drive K' -straight- into the hard concrete ground, with enough force to splinter the flooring beneath them.
COMBATSYS: K' blocks Geese's Medium Throw.
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Geese 0/-------/-----==|======-\-------\0 K'
Geese comes in on the heels of his cold words, unremitting and exacting in his demands. K' barely has time to perceive and prepare before Howard is trying to break him in half again. He ducks swiftly around the attempt to seize him, an arm flicking up to ward it off, and though he doesn't get caught the force of that attempt jars him enough he has to take a step back.
Retreating even further, K' is given a good few minutes to really think about his predicament. It's without a doubt that, if he simply doesn't learn Geese's lessons fast enough, the man will have zero compunctions about heaping pain and abuse upon his slight frame in the interim. And as K' really is not a masochist-- the prospect of being beaten bloody endlessly, day in and day out, does not appeal to him-- he's swiftly finding that it's in his best interests to learn what Geese has to teach. And learn it quick.
It helps him a little here that he's an adaptable and resourceful sort. He might not readily come up with new ideas himself, but once they've been suggested to him his own obsessive nature helps him in extrapolating all the ramifications and applications thereof. He visibly considers Geese's instructions, breathing evenly, his eyes flicking back and forth and appraising their surroundings. His mind races, sudden contemplative thought seizing him in a way that doesn't customarily happen when he's engaged in a fight. He'd always simply thrown himself at opposition, hoping to inflict as much damage as possible before he went down and lashing out with a blind violence.
Now, for possibly the first time that he can remember, K' actually takes his surroundings into account and considers his moves beyond just the immediate moment. He isn't much -good- at it, as evidenced by how much he's telegraphing his thought processes, but the fact he's trying to have thought processes at all is already an improvement. And in between that attempt at tactics, he's thinking of his last fight with Geese's son: thinking about how his impatience and recklessness ultimately led him to yet another loss against Rock's superior, nigh-Geesian cunning. He resolves he isn't going to lose because he got out-thought again. Not by Geese's brat of a son-- not by anybody else.
His lean form bows out of sight, disappearing a little into the dark that shrouds the warehouse's interior: K' long ago having learned to move without sound when necessary. His indistinct, darkly-dressed form ghosts along in a burst of sudden speed, flitting in and out of the shadows, harmless; up until it suddenly twists to cut a heel into one of the ancient packing boxes sitting at the top of a derelict pile, sending the object arrowing towards Geese. And K' doesn't venture far out of the dark, even after that, his black form elusive in the half-lit gloom.
COMBATSYS: Geese dodges K''s Thrown Object.
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Geese 0/-------/-----==|======-\-------\0 K'
If there is one thing that can be said for K', he's a quick learner. At least, when it comes to basic tactics. This much at least is in his favor. His instructor gives a look of mild respect as the Beast of Prey decides to play instead of lash out -- and it works in his favor. K' is swift to move, shunting off the majority of Geese's attack, but Howard is equally fast to react. The moment that K' springs into the shadows, Howard jerks backward. His body is stiff. Prepared. Slowly, he closes his eyes. They're no good to him here.
"A good tactic..." he muses aloud. Footsteps echo softly to the side of him. There is a crack of impact. His lips pull into a tight smile.
"Just not quite good -enough-."
This statement is delivered as Howard's eyes suddenly snap open. Reacting on instinct, based on those sounds he had heard, his body twists -backwards-... and that crate of old and dusty supplies swings past him with a violent rush of air. Geese doesn't even hesitate. Hands snap out, -grasping- that box out of mid-air with a crunch. Fingers dig in tight, cold blue eyes flash.
"But at least it means you're thinking. Good. Keep looking for openings. And focus. Focus all that anger into one cold release of fury! Concentrated, precise power! Show me it!" Howard leaps as he speaks, box still in hand as he lunges at K'. Dancing across the air in a coldly graceful movement, Howard spins with the package in hand. Momentum builds as his arms swing around full-force. The target is K''s head, aiming to crush it into the side of the young man's head to knock him straight off his ancient pile of a sanctuary.
"-Show me-!"
COMBATSYS: Geese successfully hits K' with Random Weapon.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Geese 0/-------/-----==|=======\==-----\1 K'
K' stops just one instant too long. That's his first mistake. His second is in trying to hold his ground against the force Geese can bring to bear rather than taking the wiser path of attempting to avoid the blow altogether. His attempt at a defense gets -plowed- clear through with a sharp and painful crack, his light and lean frame struck with absolutely crushing force and sent skidding some incredibly debilitating distance. Stunned from the impact, he's slow to get up once he's finally lost enough momentum to roll to a stop. For the first few instants, his wits are so jarred loose he can barely even remember where the hell he is and what just happened.
Show me, Geese barks after him. And K' makes no immediate response... verbally, at least. Twisting dazedly to hands and knees, K' just... stays right where he is for a while, dizzily trying to re-establish which way is up and which way down. When his senses finally return, it's with a sudden surge of anger almost overwhelming in its intensity. The force of his self-directed rage is nearly enough to crack the restraint his glove offers over his flames, if the ill-tempered wisps of flame that sputter about his wrists are any indication. Staying where I was, K' tells himself, was so stupid. I should have tried something else against it-- should have done this, or that--
K' tries to shove the sudden whirl of violent emotion out of his mind, once Geese's castigations resume. Huffing an angry breath as he lets the words batter into him, the young experiment simply mantles there in the middle of the floor, his long-legged frame tensed on all fours in a bestial stance. Frustrated at his inability to break Geese's defenses, but simultaneously trying to push back that anger so he can obey those harsh instructions and maintain some semblance of focus, the boy visibly struggles a moment with the focus Geese is demanding. Concentrated precision. A cold burst of power. K' -knows- how to get there, -knows- what he wants to do... but knowing simply doesn't seem to be ENOUGH against Geese.
Yellow eyes fixed on Geese, K' lets his expression crack into a snarl: even as that fitful sputtering of flames suddenly ignites in a controlled manner: coursing along the length of his limbs and lean frame in a sudden blaze. The posturing helps to hide the sudden stab of doubt that lances through him at Geese's dismissal. "I've had -enough- of hearing 'not quite good enough...'"
COMBATSYS: K' gathers his will.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Geese 0/-------/-----==|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 K'
"If you've had enough of it..." Geese states plainly, his voice an icy cold in stark contrast to K''s white hot anger. His eyes gaze with a near emotionless intensity as lips pull into a dull frown.
"... then show me something more than 'not quite good enough.'"
Geese makes no move in the wake of K''s surge of power. He stands his ground, stance resumed, hands clenching tightly as he levels himself... and prepares. Observant eyes take in the sudden pulsation of flames across K''s glove, with such fury and power that the crutch scarcely seems to contain it. A cold smile runs across his lips. It's a familiar smile. The smile that any good businessman gets when they see -opportunity-.
"You have it," he notes calmly. A deep breath follows, a calm exhale centering the King of Southtown. All his focus, all his concentration is leveled entirely upon K'. The full intensity of his stare turned upon K', the full level of his intent brought to bear. It's not something easily shrugged off, but then... K' is riding a wave of anger. And Geese knows it. "Now take the reins of it. It's controlling -you-. Show it who is the dominant one. Reel it in, focus it. Imagine that thing you hate the most... and then -release- is all in one concentrated strike." He doesn't expect K' to perfect it yet. In fact he might just overblow it. But it's there. Geese can see it. Now to just drag it out.
Slowly, Howard's right hand lifts. His fingers twitch, beckoning K' forward. His smile persists, one etched by anticipation. His left leg sweeps back... but Geese doesn't even budge. He -waits-.
"Now do it."
COMBATSYS: Geese takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Geese 0/-------/-----==|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 K'
Imagine that thing you hate the most. Geese could not have given an easier instruction to follow; though as soon as the command's run, the output of it threatens to overflow beyond all bound or control, even to the point of flooding past the intimidating weight that is Geese's direct regard.
K''s gloved hand claws, shallowly scoring the concrete. His entire fire-wreathed form tenses perceptibly, coiling in an attempt to contain and direct all the rage that abruptly floods through it. Yellow eyes break away from Geese's intense stare, the boy's head jerking downwards as he considers the long -laundry list- of things he hates. NESTS. Kyo. What was taken from him in the past, and how he's treated now. The way he feels so hollowed and empty every morning when he wakes up... the way he feels so heavily burdened when he goes to bed at night. There are so many things in his travesty of a life to hate-- so many things about himself he despises-- that it takes him a while to pick something he hates -most-.
Geese's words only register faintly at this point, the thrum of that familiar anger a constant presence in his mind that filters most outside stimuli. But he hears the important parts. You have it. Now command it. Focus it. And show it. K' isn't watching Geese anymore, but he knows the other isn't moving. By this point, he doesn't need his eyes to track what's going on. Rage has sharpened his senses to razor acuity, fine-tuning his performance at the same time it threatens to strip him of all conscious command.
Geese issues his last injunction. K' doesn't have to be told twice; this is what he's been ekeing his way towards, all this time. Triggered off like the fire of a crossbow, he lunges at Geese with a ripping, impossible speed that would have stripped the skeleton of any normal human bare. He -murders- the distance between himself and Geese in a smear of indistinct black, and he steps back into a speed human sight can register only in the last moments before he tries to smash a stunning strike dead-center into Geese's chest. From there he veritably spasms into a frenzied assault, tearing at his target with all four limbs, even regardless of whether he manages his initial strike or not. Usually, he -stops- if he can't even plant the first hit... but now, in this moment, the only thing that could preempt his enraged chain of blows is a decisive shutdown.
What -was- he picturing, all the while? NESTS. They're the reason he is what he is, the reason he's lost what he lost, and the reason he still has no real life to call his own.
COMBATSYS: Geese endures K''s Chain Drive!
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Geese 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 K'
Well.
It's a start.
The power is certainly there. Geese Howard feels it in the first fist that crushes into his chest, the strength enough to vaguely fracture bone. There is strength, there is speed, there is an untold amount of fury. But it's almost thoughtless. Fired off in one moment of power that could never be sustained over a prolonged fight. These thoughts move through Geese's mind the second that fists and feet crush into his face, his ribs, his stomach. It's not quite there.
But it's a start.
Geese can only ask for perfection from himself, after all.
But still, the point stands: he takes the first blow. He -takes- it. He is not overcome by the blow... he just -takes- it fully. No bothering to make a defense, or to try to get out of the way. If K' was not so consumed by that frenzied hatred, he might be able to tell. He might be able to see the cerulean flames licking across Geese's forearms, slithering into his palms. Crackling, volatile spheres of power that remain even as K' lays out -blow- after -blow- after -blow-, bloodying Geese's face, forcing him into a lurch. But he's smiling.
"Now -that-... is MUCH better." The last blow comes in, and the words start--
"DOUBLE--"
Fist crushes against Geese's jaw, and in that moment, his right arm arches upwards in a full, powerful swing. The air and ground ignite beneath him as his head snaps to the side. Flame of the darkest pitch of blue engorges on the cold concrete. His left hand swings.
"REPPUKEN!"
And then the gout is added to until it is a -mass- of energy easily as large as K' is tall, a bubbling mass of scarcely contained power that EXPLODES at point blank range, searing the earth and air as it seeks its main meal: K'. And in that last moment, Geese Howard is blown backwards from the force of K''s final blow, twisting through the air until he lands, easily, on his feet. Crouched. Breathing a bit hard. But grinning.
"... A good start."
COMBATSYS: Geese successfully hits K' with Double Reppuken.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /// ]
Geese 1/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 K'
In his sudden, explosive burst of return fire, K' displays all the unremitting lack of mercy or compunction Geese showed to him over the course of this brutal 'lesson.' He strikes a countless number of times, his hands folded into the most lethal configurations possible, brutalizing anything he can reach regardless of its vulnerability or the perceived fairness of the target. He tilts his fist to slam the edges of his metal glove into the face-- he aims for the most vulnerable spots in the torso-- he fires off his hits to break bone.
Of course, Geese is a little more resilient than the average opponent, a little more able to resist and soak the damage. What would have hospitalized lesser fighters is simply an inconvenience to a man like Howard. But that knowledge doesn't cause K' to try any less hard to make the crime lord -hurt-.
Geese's amusement gets through the haze of fury gradually, sinking claws of unease into the back of his mind. Disquieted, K' abates eventually as the natural rhythm of his attack draws to a conclusion, and he tries to pull back and away to gain time to regain his center and equilibrium. He's overextended, he knows it, and he needs to reel in. But opponents as crafty and skilled as Geese are not going to let such mistakes as overextension slide without capitalizing on them.
K' blurs a little, the effect a byproduct of his black chi flexing suddenly to life. That energy-- innate to him, the one thing NESTS never tampered with-- works in an obvious attempt to drag K' out of the blasting zone in a burst of his characteristic speed... but Geese is too close and too quick. The point-blank blast of energy -slams- him back all over again, K' tumbling end over end until he finally manages to get his hands and feet under him: skidding to a stop in a more controlled manner. He coughs a sharp, irritated breath, shaking like a dog to rid himself of the last scraps of energy... and then he slams right back at Geese again in a simple, piercing strike: a burst of fire leading his assault. The distance is far too prodigious to be crossed quickly, even for a boy of K''s speed... but on principle, the boy has always opted, without fail, to fight until he physically -cannot- any longer. That tenacity is simply an integral part of who he is.
"A... -start-?" Out of breath as he is, the incredulity in K''s voice is still plainly obvious. This much is... only the beginning? It was difficult enough for him to even focus this much on premeditating an assault.
COMBATSYS: K' can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Geese 1/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Geese interrupts Heat Drive from K' with Shippuken.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Geese 1/-----==/=======|
'A... -start-?' K' breathes out idignantly. Geese's response is ultimately simple and to the point:
"SHIPPUKEN!"
The words are roared the minute that K' launches himself forward again. Howard, surging into a backwards leap in a sudden outburst of speed, is clipped by the sudden swell of fire and the piercing punch; it nicks his abused and cracked ribs, eliciting a wince but little more. Soon afterwords Geese's hands SLAM together, palms forward, and K' is introduced to his last bout of pain for the day.
The form comes in a mass of violently churning, spherical blue fire. It crackles and bubbles before it is laucnhed off Howard's palm with all the force and fury of a cannonball, spinning through the air and crushing into his trainee's chest with a fiery explosion to launch him backwards and into those old, dusty crates once more. Shortly after? Howard lands.
And he dusts off his gi in the most calm and casual way imaginable.
Right hand smearing away blood dripping from the corner of his lip, Howard considers K' with an unpleasantly cold stare for a long, silent moment. "... Of course it's a -start-. Don't be impudent, boy. What do you call a first session? An end? I have tolerance for free-thinking, K'. I have -no- tolerance, however, for stupidity." Straightening fully, Howard crosses his hands behind his back, turning calmly to look towards the door. "We will continue these sessions twice a week. When -we- are not training -you- will be training every day yourself, working on the lessons I've given you. This first one you won't master for some time to come, but don't worry. You will. I have faith in you." More importantly?
Geese Howard has faith in -himself-.
"We're done for today."
COMBATSYS: Geese has ended the fight here.
What K' would have liked to call it is 'progress.' Especially since it was hard enough for him just to get so far as opening his mind to this more tactical style. But it seems a mere start is what he'll have to content himself with... hard as it is for him to hear that.
Struck sidelong by that blast and sent crashing off on a totally new trajectory, K''s back hits the edge of a crate-- /hard/. A spasm of pain seizes him, his spine cracking unpromisingly, and once his momentum's slaked off he drops to an unsteady, wide-legged stand against that stack of unforgiving boxes. He bows forward involuntarily, coughing for air, his head dipping, and in that moment, he looks a hell of a lot like Rock. It might bring back some memories.
He doesn't answer Geese's unimpressed queries, partly because he has no answer and partly because he can't even breathe enough -to- answer. He doesn't immediately answer Geese's establishment of a training regimen, either. This session has taken a lot out of him... but with time, he'll likely get used to it. After all, he's certain that he'll probably die if he DOESN'T get used to it.
"...F...fine," K' eventually manages without his usual rancor, peeling himself away from the stack of dusty boxes and starting to walk slowly away: summarily dismissed from Geese's presence. "Until next week..." A bitter smirk pulls at the corner of his bloodied mouth. It wrenches at him to bow like this-- especially after he swore so loudly to Rugal he'd never go back on the leash for anybody-- but he knows he's got little choice if he wants to get ahead. Besides-- he gets something out of this too.
And in some profoundly twisted way, K' can even derive some measure of -comfort- from Geese's statement of faith. No one has ever bothered to believe him capable of anything before. Coldly given as it is, a mask for however many ugly ulterior motives as it is... it's still one of the only encouragements K' has ever received in his barren life, and he clings to it.
Knowing Geese, that's just another part of the plan.
Log created on 05:26:45 04/27/2008 by K', and last modified on 15:14:50 05/04/2008.