Shihong - An Impossible Dream..?

Description: Shihong Mao dreams big. Someday, she decided, she'll make a name for herself. Someday she'll ascend further and higher in the ranks of the Southtown Syndicate. But it's a difficult task--and a seemingly impossible dream. But is it really as impossible as it may seem..?



Being King means being busy.
One can never have enough plans, after all.
The duties of a king are many and varied. In this modern world, holding control of an empire means making deals and exploiting loopholes, positioning oneself for hostile takeovers and dominating the market of business. Managing a kingdom means making sure sales are up and ensure productivity is as high as can be. In this world, an empire is dictated by money. Money is control.
And control is all that matters.
Thus, Geese Howard's day has been one filled with board meetings and scheduling board meetings, and arranging with secretaries to arrange for scheduling board meetings. Firings, hirings, and random meet and greets. At the end of the day, it's all just according to schedule.
Everything weaves together the way Geese Howard wants it to weave, including his end of the day rituals. It's why he's here tonight, on the rooftop of his tower, surrounded by priceless artwork and architecture as he stares out over the skyline. It's a daily method. A tradition, if one wanted to be sappy about it. To look out over the skyline of Southtown, and know... it's all his.
And it's a very good feeling.
Of course, not everything goes according to a strict schedule. That would be monotonous. Boring. And, clad in an expensive black suit, black shirt, slacks and blue tie, the would-be king is not just here at his rooftop for the view. He's waiting. Fingers tapping against a half-empty glass of scotch, his left hand slipped into his pants pocket, Howard seems content to simply watch the world -- his world -- for now. But still. There's work to be done. And even here, he waits for a reason, having called for someone in particular to meet him here to finish off the day right.
It's always best to keep the cogs of your well-oiled machine running smoothly.



A busy day, indeed.

While Geese Howard's concern stem on a business and management level, the day in the life of a lower-level subordinate is far less glamorous, but equally intensive. While Howard hassled with various deals and financial issues, men and women in his employ work the lower levels, doing the 'dirty work' that he himself would likely rarely, if ever, touch. He's an insanely-wealthy businessman secretly in charge of the city's largest criminal organization, after all.

It's a risk he can't precisely afford.

But there is a discernable difference in both lifestyles. At the end of the day, he can wind down in the cushy luxury of fine art and million-dollar antiques and furniture; on the other hand, the day is never really 'over' for those in the employ of Howard's 'shadier' company. They're out there managing and maintaining 'his' city for him, after all.

At times, however, even they have a moment to breathe.

Having swapped out her dinged-up Sedan for the much nicer, far flashier (and painfully rare--fun fact: only 281 were produced from 1992 to 1994!) black Jaguar XJ220 she treasures almost as much as her own life, Shihong Mao parks it safely in the confines of the security garage, leaving the sleek machine in the tightly-secured lot. Like Hell she would leave it anywhere else.

As per usual, the enforcer makes her rounds, travelling up to the top floor and enduring the usual security measures--frankly, rather pointlessly measures, but measures nonetheless--before she's given permission to proceed further through the top floor of the tower. And with one sweeping gesture of her hands she steps through the large doors connecting the top floor anteroom to the rooftop office.

Whether the well-dressed King of Southtown regards the woman, she offers a formal bow nonetheless, a hand crossed over her midsection before she rises up with a discreet smirk lingering on her lips. She was called for whatever reason Howard deemed necessary. It isn't her place to question, not when he cuts her checks at the end of the day.

"Forgive the observation," the woman begins, speaking confidently. "But I must ask this, and I apologize if it may be a bold or intruding inquiry. But..."

Her words trail off briefly, as her dark eyes narrow the faintest bit.

"What is it like to have everything you could possibly want?"

As presumptuous as her question may outwardly seem, there's a certain touch of sincere curiosity that tinges her words, emphasized only by the thoughtful expression that lingers on the woman's pale face.



Pointless measures are just every day procedure. The monotony of efficiency. Not that Geese would know; no one in this city would ever dare try to hold him back for things as useless as 'procedure.'
Ice clinks against the sides of clear glass as Howard indulges in a sip of his scotch, tasting the strong liquor and letting out a contented sigh. A thin smile creeps across Geese Howard's lips. It's truly a good day to be him.
But then, what day isn't?
Howard actually spares Shihong a vague glance as she enters, though he has no words for her to start. Instead, he returns his gaze to the skyline, letting his right hand settle at his side with the swish of his drink contents. He seems content to stay that way, too, in a comfortable silence -- for him -- until Shihong speaks up.
'What is it like to have everything you could possibly want?'
The question causes Geese to pause for an instant -- but only an instant. "Having everything I could want? That's a trick question. I don't have everything I could want. But if I did... life would be rather boring." His answer is truthful enough, the words coming out smoothly as he turns to regard Shihong. His feet resound against the floor as he strides forward, making his way to the liquor cabinet near his desk. "What more is there left for a conqueror who's conquerored everything? Nothing but monotony. There's a quote about Alexander the Great that would do well to sum this all up, but I can't be bothered to remember. Fortunately..." Geese pours his glass half full once more, considering the amber liquid thoughtfully.
"... I don't even have close to everything I could want."
Turning sharply on his heel, Howard lifts the bottle of scotch up in offering to Shihong. "Some scotch?" The question transitions smoothly regardless of answer, his next words coming out easily and conversationally. "And what about you, Ms. Mao? I doubt you're satisfied with what you have now. What do -you- have left to conquer, hm?" He can take a guess. He's sure he'd likely be right. But what's the fun of that?



As Shihong's question comes as perhaps a surprise, though mild as it may be, his response is of equal surprise to the woman, so much so her eyes seem vaguely puzzled, thin brows knitting discreetly. The faintest breath escapes her lips, eyes glancing away from the well-dressed businessman toward the entirety of the room, and all its lavish, pricey furnishings.

He doesn't have everything he wants? How can that be? Is that really even possible?

Certainly, Howard seems sincere enough in his response--as sincere as she can read on the surface of his words, at least. When he turns the woman's black eyes hood a fraction further, red lips pulling into a thin line over her pale face as she stands, observing as he easily moves about, still refraining from comment. He has more to offer, at least, more insight into the mind of a far above millions, both physically and materialistically.

Tipping her head discreetly forward, the woman's eyes draw to a pensive close, rouge lips easing from the thoughtful line pulled tightly over her pale face to an expression far more neutral in nature. Inwardly the woman weighs his words, considering them privately. Has Howard truly things left to conquer in the world?

Or is he merely being modest..?

Her thoughts are shaken when he swiftly skirts away from his answer to an offer of scotch, her brow lifting slightly before she softly shakes her head and lifts a hand and offers a tiny grin. "No, thank you. I still do not feel comfortable drinking in the presence of an employer, sir," she offers, words touched by the faintest hints of amusement. "It just seems very uncouth." She's a prideful woman, after all.

"But, again, thank you for your generosity."

Before she can speak further, the man turns the proverbial tables, asking of her essentially what she had asked of him. He doubts (rightly) that she's satisfied. What does she have left to conquer in the world?

Averting her eyes, the woman's black gaze falls thoughtfully upon the distant view of the city, her lips pulling into another thoughtful line across her face. Silence consumes her; instead, she carefully considers her words, how best to reply to a question like that. Of course she thinks about it...but never considered the idea of being ASKED it. It's difficult to put such complex and personal thoughts into words.

Really. What IS left?

Lifting her chin, the woman's eyes narrow slightly as she confidently regards the crimelord before her. "Honestly? This station I'm in at the moment," she boldly states. "But to do that I need to get stronger, obviously. So I need to conquer these numerous imperfections in my talent and skill if I want to climb the ladder." A soft exhale follows.

"Besides that..? There's so much else--far too many to laundry list, at least." A lopsided smirk swiftly graces her lips thereafter.



Men like Geese Howard are never satisfied. It's the nature of the power-hungry.
Ambition is something of a double-edged sword.
For now, though, Howard is content. Any good businessman knows the value of patience in striving for what they desire. So he certainly seems satisfied enough as he takes another sip of his scotch, offering the bottle up to Shihong. At her polite refusal, he gives a frown, setting the bottle back down. "Oh? More's a pity, then. It's really quite good. But to each their own." Setting down the bottle, Howard moves once more towards his chair, setting a hand upon the armrest. His glass is lifted in cheers. "Perhaps another time, then."
But then comes Howard's own question. The King of Southtown is content to wait for an answer as the transporter delves into silence. Her response is simple -- and hardly complete. Howard isn't looking for completion, or even honesty. Motives can be discerned even through vague answers and half-truths. But what she offers is enough to draw a wry smile. Cold glass presses against the bottom of his lip as he enjoys another languid sip of his scotch.
"Aaah... this station? A hard worker. I like that. Not enough of those in the world today. The proverbial diamond in the rough." Considering thoughtfully for a moment, Howard frowns, setting his glass down on the desk just in front of him. "But if you're that ambitious you'll have to work even harder than the rest. You want to get stronger. You want to climb up the ladder.
"Let's see what we can do about that."
As Howard speaks, he moves away from his chair, hands slipping into his pants pockets as he moves back towards the opposite end of the office. Turning his head to look at Shihong, a smirk crosses his lips. "I assume you've been keeping up with your training? Then let's see it. I'd like to see how much you've accomplished." He lifts his right hand, beckoning Mao forward. "And we'll see just how far we can push you along to your goal."



"Do forgive me," the Chinese woman offers in response, as the bottle is set back down. "I'm sure the scotch is from some of the best stock there is." Pausing, the woman's lips pull into an almost coy smile. Inwardly she mulls over her personal reasons as to why she wouldn't accept--namely, because as she feels it stands, she lacks the tenure and worth within the Syndicate to be so 'casual' with her employer.

But she continues to grin. "Perhaps," she replies.

Her demeanor shifts as things become a touch more personal to the woman, her posture stiffening a bit as she regards the blonde carefully. His smile is noted, the silence briefly about him almost suffocating to the woman. She hasn't said something wrong, has she..?

"Station was the only appropriate word I could think to use, sir," she offers, tipping her head slightly forward with a ghost of a smirk. It falters as he suggests she must work harder than the rest, her thin black brows rising slightly as she straightens her back. It's a daunting task...but she's willing to work for it. She's willing to work damn hard--and she believes she has.

But it's not enough.

"I--"

But she's cut off. He wants to see what 'they' can do about it? Is he offering to help?

"I'm not so sure, sir. You're a busy man, and really, it's a personal goal I should strive to achieve on my own. It wouldn't seem right to burden you in such a way..." Uneasiness lingers just beneath the surface of the woman's thoughts and demeanor, her pale features seized in the faintest expression of uncertainty. But in a way, he insists. Has she been keeping up with her training?

The woman's features grow stern and resolved. "Of course I have. But..." But?

She fails to speak further. Her words die off swiftly, as the man gestures and smirks. What has she accomplished, anyway? Would it be noticeable enough? Or would she disappoint a man leaps and bounds above her skill and talent? There's no way should could ever reach such skill herself...right?

With a light smirk, the woman's black eyes hood as her gaze fixes on the King of Southtown. "Very well then, sir...if you insist." It isn't as if she believes she has room to argue otherwise. Any more resistance and he may very well lose his patience.

Breaking forward in a hurried dash across the rooftop office floor, she pauses a few feet from the man, her body instead hopping forward and closing the distance with a turning kick aimed for Geese's head. Swiftly after her leg coils at the hip, chambering tightly at her side before she fires it off swiftly at his chest, followed by a second, much stronger side kick aimed for precisely the same location, delivered with a fierce kiai.

COMBATSYS: Shihong has started a fight here.

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Shihong          0/-------/-------|


COMBATSYS: Geese has joined the fight here.

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Geese            0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0          Shihong


COMBATSYS: Geese blocks Shihong's Prancing Stag.

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Geese            0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0          Shihong


'It wouldn't seem right to burden you in such a way...'
"Don't be ridiculous. Nothing I choose to do is a burden to me unless I want it to be."
The words are smooth and simple as Howard easily loosens his tie, letting the swatch of blue fabric hang limply around his shoulders. The words are final in their authority. He knows what he's doing. And if anything, Geese Howard of all people has a reason for his choices.
He simply elects not to share those reasons.
Shihong's voice twangs distinctly with resolve. Determination seeps into her voice and causes Howard to lift a brow as he watches her, tugging on the strands of his tie to pull it free. But then her voice wavers, and his response comes just as abruptly. "There's no room for 'but' for people who want greatness. Either you do or you don't. And that's what you want, isn't it?" He turns, lifting a hand, clenching it easily into a fist.
"So show me how much closer you are to getting it, and we'll see how much we can push you along that line, hm?"
The gesture is made. As Shihong debates the merits of proceeding and wrestles with her own doubts, Geese Howard... sets about ridding himself of his coat. It's an act of foresight, really. It's a nice coat. He's just at sliding the coat off his left arm when Shihong decides to strike. Leg rises to bury into Howard's head. But instead of the crack of foot against skull, Mao meets the firm guard of a forearm, lifted up with almost casual ease as Howard finishes sliding off his coat. The second kicks come, smacked aside by the firm strike of Howard's palm with such precision that it diffuses much of the force behind the strikes. His coat slides; with a simple thrust, he throws the thing into the air, to land upon his would-be throne.
"There," he speaks with a smirk, "that's better."
Geese's response is based on a simple concept: tit for tat. As Mao recovers from her attacks, Geese capitalizes on her position. His leg bends at the knee, before striking out like a piston to crash into her chest. He delivers it with brutal force. He doesn't hold back. After all... holding back only breeds weakness. "HMPH!"

COMBATSYS: Shihong blocks Geese's Light Kick.

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Geese            0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0          Shihong


He chooses his burdens? It explains a lot, she privately decides, smirking lightly in response.

"Of course I want it," she replies, her words stern and confident. Where once she may have doubted her motives, and perhaps Howard's own, the woman is now sure of her goals. She wants to become stronger, better, faster. She wants to climb the ladders of success. She wants to become famous for her skills and talents. As famous as she can be...

"Fine then!" the woman calls, breaking into a dash before she leaps. The initial strike swings upwards and at Howard's head as he parts with his expensive coat, the top of her foot aimed to strike. But when it collides, it meets only with his forearm. She blinks once, mildly surprised. Lips pull into a faint, barely noticeable sneer.

Her leg whips back and shoots forward, aimed for his chest with the steel stiletto heel of her pump--but, calmly and too casually the Southsynd King casts her attempts aside with swift thrusts of his palms colliding into her shin. Her brows knit in response, thin red lips pulling thinly across her pale face.

His words earn him a light smirk, as her leg draws back. But just as her heel touches the floor, the blonde's leg jerks to life, surprisingly fast for how seemingly 'unprepared' the attack appears. As swiftly as she can the woman's arms swing upwards, crossing over her chest and absorbing the brunt of the blonde's kick. Impact is harsh and painful, enough force behind the blow to draw a gasp from her lips, black eyes wide as she slides back an inch.

"I would compliment you, sir, but you know already how talented you are."

Without further word the woman in black pivots harshly on her stiletto heel, swinging a leg back and around, attempting to deliver a swift hook kick aimed for the King of Southtown's neck.

COMBATSYS: Geese interrupts Medium Kick from Shihong with Fast Throw.

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Geese            0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0          Shihong


Like the crack of a whip, Howard's leg slings out with terrifying force. It's the strength and speed of a person who dwells in a level that completely eclipses Shihong's own. But she holds up admirably; the heel of a polished shoe drives into arms instead of sternum, the crack of impact dulled to a faint thud as the transporter squeels backwards. Painful, certainly.
But only the tip of the iceburg, as Shihong well knows.
In the space of seconds it takes for Shihong to recover from the crime lord's assault and respond in kind, Geese occupies his time rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows. Pale blue eyes lift up to regard Shihong. A calm, amused smile drifts and echoes its sentiment in his gaze.
"Of course I do."
She attacks. The pivot of heel grinding against the smooth floor, the swing of a leg hooking through the air -- it never sees the light of day. The moment before the foot makes contact with Geese's neck, his palms smack into her calf, sending her attack off course so that it strikes against his shoulder. His grip still holds firm.
"A man needs to know his strengths, after all."
A second later, Geese uses that leg to fling Shihong through the air at disorienting speeds, tossing her over his shoulder as he casually pats off his hands. He looks over his shoulder at the flung Shihong. The difference in them is phenomenal. Does that make her worthless, though? Insignificant? Well. Certainly in comparison to him.
"The move was telegraphed. Try moving in a way I can't anticipate -- exploit any openings or patterns you can find."
But that doesn't make her any less viable a student.



The difference between them is vast, as wide as the Pacific, and perhaps greater. It's daunting, to be pitted against a man as powerful as Geese Howard. There are few opponents against whom she doubts herself--Howard has the distinct pleasure of being the one person in the world that inspires her uncertainty.

But it isn't enough to make her give up. If anything, those uncertainties inspire her. They push her further, to make her do her best, if only to accomplish more. To GET better, and to be the best someday, and obtain a high place in the upper echelons of the Southsynd hierarchy. Someday she will have it--she knows it. She's come this far in life...

Smirking lightly as he spares no modesty, the woman's leg whips to life. Swinging it fiercely around, she intends on striking the man cleanly in the neck with brute force. It seems like a clean hit...until his hand grasps firmly to her calf. D-damn it, she privately curses, wincing in response to his grip. It's more than bargained for...

Before she can properly reply, the King of Southtown whips her from the ground and tosses her cleanly over his body, as casually as one would dismiss trash. Sailing, her body collides painfully into the ground, her shoulder striking the floor first before she tumbles once, landing on her back. The move was telegraphed, he tells her; a fist clenches lightly at her side.

"U-understood," she grits out, pulling her body off the floor. Rising to her feet, the woman's hands gingerly dust her blazer's sleeves off, hands then reaching up and smoothing long black hair into proper place. He wants something unpredictable..?

Lunging forward once more, the woman charges with her body low and shoulders leaned forward. Only as she nears does the woman's fist begin to move...a feint?

Instead she drops low suddenly, a leg snapping out to drop his feet from under him before she swiftly rises, should he fall. That's when her leg will swing up, held high above her before she drops it hard, the back of her heel driving into the center of his chest with a loud yell.

COMBATSYS: Shihong successfully hits Geese with Change-Up Kick.

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Geese            0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0          Shihong


Geese Howard is a patient man, but a ruthless teacher. The two complement themselves in an odd sort of way. While he floors Shihong with nary any effort on his part, and without much attempt to even feign exertion, he doesn't try to push the offensive as she strikes ground with a rough collision. It's not out of any sort of mercy, it's just practicality. When you're teaching someone this far beneath you, to be even any measure of effective, one can't simply -smear- them into the earth.
At least, not too much.
Howard's hands clench and unclench as Mao drags herself back up onto her feet. A pale blond brow lifts. He's given her his instructions. One would expect he would be -expecting- a feint now. And he is, partly.
But Shihong proves herself to be very good at adapting.
As the fist drops in, Geese shifts to the side, preparing to outmaneuver the blow... only to find his feet swept out from under him. Collapsing towards the ground, Howard's quick reflexes bring a palm slamming against smooth flooring as that kick crashes harshly into his sternum with a crack of impact, driving him down a little bit further. But not nearly far enough.
"Better. Keep that in mind: the best asset is unpredictability. Keep your resources plentiful... and always look for key moments to explot." And as if in demonstration of this, Howard's right hand snaps forward to grip Shihong by the front of his outfit while he remains suspended above ground with his opposite arm. In that moment, he'll heft Shihong up before -swinging- her to the side, intent to slam -her- into the ground the exact moment he pushes up onto his feet.
"Understand?"

COMBATSYS: Shihong blocks Geese's Medium Throw.

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Geese            0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1          Shihong


Howard's mercy is lost to the woman, if there truly is any to begin with. Deep inside, Shihong knows there likely is no mercy in any fiber of the man's being, and that's precisely what makes him a force to be reckoned with. If he were a kindly 'teacher,' this would hardly be a learning lesson for her. She needs this, if she's going to become stronger.

Pushing her body into action, the Chinese woman feints the blonde, a fist swinging out to distract the man before her body drops and takes his feet out. Shooting up, a leg lifts high and swiftly descends, crashing the heel of her expensive Prada square into the center of Howard's awaiting sternum. It drives the King of Southtown further into the floor, earning him a wry smirk from the pale-faced woman on her feet.

"Understood, sir," the woman replies, taking his advice to heart. A second later the man is suddenly whipping forward, hands gripping her blazer before he tosses her recklessly to the side, to slam her into the ground as he rises to his feet. Unlike the last toss, however, the woman cushions her blow as carefully as she can, a loud grunt escaping her.

From her floored position, Shihong doesn't stand; instead, her hands plant as both legs suddenly erupt with vermillion-red energy. Shooting both heels forward, she attempts to strike the blonde hard in the shins before one leg swings up, to clip him in the face, followed swiftly by the second leg as she rises into a graceful and rather elegant handstand.

COMBATSYS: Geese blocks Shihong's Coiled Serpent.

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Geese            0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1          Shihong


No mercy. No quarter.
No one gets strong from handouts.
There's no compliments offered to Shihong as she manages to cushion herself against the ground, crushing into the rooftop with less force than she might have before. Howard is already on his feet, stance adopted once more as he waits. He feels no compunctions to press an advantage.
Why press it when his advantage is ever-present?
Vermillion energy flares as it shunts off of Shihong's legs, her strikes brimming with Psycho Power as they lance towards Howard. The accomplished businessman and crime boss extraordinaire is swift to react to the incoming assault. "Fast, but you can be -faster-. Concentrate. Push yourself to the -limit-." The words are accompanied as Geese drops -down-, right palm smashing into Shihong's heels in a brutal clash that stings across his arm in a vague sensation of pain. As the second blow comes, his free hand knocks the brimming energy to the side. His lips peel into a grin.
"Almost. But it needs more..."
Howard surges forward. The muscles of his arm tense up as his right hand launches forward, open-palm, to bury itself into Shihong's inverted gut to knock her right off her handstand and through the air.
"... -EFFORT-!"

COMBATSYS: Shihong endures Geese's Quick Punch.

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Geese            0/-------/-----==|=======\====---\1          Shihong


His words are heard, but the woman says nothing in response. Instead, the woman recovers from her fall, cushioning her body to prevent real trauma. She secretly counts her blessings; Howard's talents are fearsome, and she knows to a degree what he can do--and hopes one day she never sees the REAL extent of his talent.

Without wasting time Shihong moves, seeking to swiftly capitalize on what she hopes to be a moment of weakness in the crimelord. Legs shoot out, aimed for the businessman's shins, before the first leg swings up, flaming with psychic energy. But before her heel can crash into his jaw, a palm swings out, crashing into her leg and casting it aside, followed by a second strike as the woman comes to stand on her hands.

More? More what?

Punctuation comes swiftly in the form of Howard's open palm slamming into her stomach, a horrible groan escaping her lips as her body staggers. The force is enough to cause her to lose her balance briefly, arms buckling and daring to betray her--but she knows better. Instead, the Chinese woman lets them buck as she drops to her upper back and rolls once. He wants more effort?

Fine.

Twisting as she rises, the woman wastes no time. Leaping up high, she lands low in front of him, her legs shooting out as they erupt with energy. The moment her legs should impact fiercely, she'll maneuver into a crouch and sweep a leg out from Geese...

COMBATSYS: Shihong successfully hits Geese with Guardian of the Gods.

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Geese            0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0          Shihong


The moment her fiery leg cuts his balance from beneath him, Shihong smirks to herself.

Jackpot.

The woman swiftly moves, however, in a fashion similar to her previous crouch attack. Planting her hands, she lets both legs slide beneath Howard as he begins to fall and, with a fierce kick into his back, drives a burst of vermillion energy into his back, launching the blonde upwards. Handstanding once again, she pushes her body upwards, body rotating midair as her feet continue to flare with energy. She maneuvers above the man's chest with her legs tightly coiled...

With one harsh motion, she drives her feet down into his chest HARD with a burst of Psycho Power, driving Geese into the floor of his rooftop office. And the moment his body impacts another concussive burst erupts, giving the woman the momentum she needs to launch herself off his body and land a short distance away in a deep crouch with arms extended at her sides for balance.



More effort.
Just like that.
Howard, of course, knows this attack. He's seen it before. And he only needs to see it once to know the intricacies of it. Still, for once in this skirmish, Shihong truly does take him -completely- by surprised. Psycho Power crushes into his leg, her sweeping kick knocking his footing out from under him. Howard looks momentarily shocked -- but surprise soon melts away into a calm, self-assured smile. He knows what happens next.
And it's just what he's looking for.
Launched upwards with fierce psychic power, a trail of vermillion whisps across Howard's back as he greets the cool skies. The second blow strikes his chest with a decided -crack- of impact, burning his chest and driving him into the ground with force that splinters and ruptures the hard flooring. He rebounds off the ground in a short upward ricochet until that second concussive blast of pure vemillion burns across his body. He lands once more, a final time into the ground, skidding and churning carpet and concrete before he stops only a few feet from his ornate chair. A pause follows. And then...
... he applauds.
Slowly, Howard gathers himself back to his feet, giving a small ovation for the woman who has just struck him. "Much better. You've gotten a bit faster. But now... let me show you one of my techniques." A cerulean sphere of pulsating power ebbs in the palm of Geese's hand as he considers Shihong with a look of smug satisfaction. The word is uttered.
"REPPUKEN!"
And with that declaration, Howard sweeps his right arm forward. The chi gathered against his hand unleashes in a furious torrent of distinctive cold blue flames, a plume of chi blossoming across the ground and ripping forward... straight for Shihong.

COMBATSYS: Geese successfully hits Shihong with Reppuken.

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Geese            0/-------/-======|=======\==-----\1          Shihong


The Chinese woman does not see the self-assured smirk, as her legs drive a burst of energy into his back to send him airborne. The only thing on Shihong's mind is proving herself. She'll prove she's no slouch, and that she'll someday be strong enough to be a real match for the likes of Howard. She'll prove she has the potential to be more than just some generic enforcer or transporter in the Syndicate.

She wants more.

Driving her legs down fiercely into his chest, the woman sends him into the floor of his office, an angry explosion of viciously red energy washing over his form as she's launched free of his body. Twisting midair, the woman lands deeply, balancing herself with her arms. For a moment things seem odd, almost eerie. Why is he so quiet?

The clapping nearly startles her.

Rising slowly and cautiously from her crouch, the woman's black gaze flickers briefly, hints of smoldering red haunting her eyes as she regards the blonde. Is he going to attack her? The cautious gesture she makes, the way her legs tense and her arms lift would suggest so...but she's thrown off her guard when he speaks praise.

...and then offers to show her one of 'his' techniques. A split second later a flicker of blue energy erupts in his palm, a force of nature she's come too familiar with in her endeavors...and an energy she knows she doesn't like. It hurts...far more than the stuff she wields. Her instincts tell her to run, and her legs tense in response.

That energy gathered flies for the woman, roaring across the office right for her form. At the last possible second she attempts to throw herself to the side...but that possible second is far too late. That cold blue energy collides with her form and launches the woman back, her back hitting the desk. Impact is harsh and painful, drawing a pained look over the woman's face as she widens her eyes and drops her jaw, uttering a silent cry of grief.

How can there be such a difference in strength and power..? How??

Black eyes glaze slightly as a heavy breath escapes her lips, Shihong's form falling off the desk's edge. Hitting the ground with her knees and palms, she coughs viciously, shoulders shivering violently as she tries to pinch off the pain endured. She never asked for mercy, and never expected any...which means, though their levels of strength may be vastly different...she must not give him an inch either.

Staggering like a drunk fresh in the tank, the woman coughs as she stands on her feet once more, a hand pressed to her horribly singed chest. The expensive black blazer is a tattered mess; barely kept together by the buttons, now melted, the fabric is frayed and disheveled, revealing more of her black corset top than usual. But modesty is the last thing on her mind.

The woman's eyes simply narrow as she grins a devil's grin. "N-not out...y-yet."

She staggers twice before she collects her wits and breaks into a run. Midway, the Chinese woman leaps into the air feet first, her legs erupting with energy...

COMBATSYS: Shihong can no longer fight.

[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Geese            0/-------/-======|


COMBATSYS: Shihong successfully hits Geese with Bird of Paradise.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Geese            0/-------/=======|


Though her feet close in and touch harmlessly, it's the following spike of red that will lance through his chest before it explodes with body-jarring intensity. Shihong..?

Uses that burst to her advantage, despite her aching body. Her body twists, backflipping off the crimelord's chest her legs falling toward him in a staggering motion. The first leg 'touches,' delivering a burst of energy, followed by the second leg, delivering another burst to send him falling face-first into the ground, while Shihong follows the flip through and lands on the ground daintily.

...until her legs give way and she simply falls to the ground, breathless and aching. She can't possibly carry on.


And so the skirmish is over.
But let something be said for the tenacity of those seeking to be stronger.
Cold fire born of Howard's pure, unrelenting will roars to life in a plume of chaotic azure. It's too much, too fast. He knows that. He -made- it that way. This is, as they say, the show-stopper, borne across the ground by sheer unholy force to gobble up the transporter in a roar of greedy power. It's enough to end the fight, and the smile Geese wears speaks as much:
It is exactly as he wanted it to be.
Strong arms cross over the King of Southtown's broad chest as Mao crushes against the desk. He seems content with the fight's end at this point, but it isn't quite over yet, is it? The woman strikes ground, and Howard continues to wait, a brow arched. Almost... -expectant-. She's been pushed to the edge. He knows that. Gasping for breath, muscles on fire. A mild exercise at best. 'N-not out... y-yet,' she declares in a weak voice. He hardly bothers to look surprised.
"Of course you're not."
She moves. It's slow, but Howard, in a rare moment of his life, underestimates the speed at which Mao advances. The distance bought by the overwhelming strength of the Reppuken is not enough. Feet touch chest. But that's not what Geese needs to concern himself with. Rather --
-- he concerns himself with the sudden mass of vermillion that bludgeons against his torso like a battering ram. The force is enough to stagger him a step, and keep his wits distracted just long enough for the second and third burst of Psycho Power to knock him groundwards. Face-first...
. but not quite all the way. Geese stops himself with one arm before he can be completely launched into the hard, cold ground. Stopped in a kneel, Geese's chest burns, his head aching from the sudden surge of power. But he is not fallen... unlike Shihong, who meets the floor only a moment later. There. "-Now- we're done."
The statement is issued calmly as Howard slowly pulls himself back up onto his feet, cold pale eyes squinting at Mao in a wordless assessment. "You've been progressing well," he notes idly. "But you've still got a ways to go, don't you?" It's all he offers to Shihong as she lays prone on the ground. The CEO remains standing still for a moment longer before pivoting sharply on his right heel, turning towards his chair. Picking up his jacket, he slips it on, sliding his undone tie around his neck next.
Almost calmly does he swoop down a moment after, to grip Shihong by an arm and drag her back onto her feet -- less of a gentlemanly gesture considering how beaten down she's been. "Continue working on it. And get word back from that Ayame girl about her job, if you would. I'm eager to know what's become of that." He'll release her there, before returning his gaze back towards the skyline of his city, hands sliding into pockets as a calm, arrogant smile slips across his lips.
"Maybe sometime you can take a moment to enjoy the view from the top. It's really... -spectacular-."

COMBATSYS: Geese takes no action.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Geese            0/-------/=======|


COMBATSYS: Geese has ended the fight here.

Log created on 01:07:14 05/05/2008 by Shihong, and last modified on 16:37:25 05/21/2008.