Description: Zach encounters a ninja in the most unlikely (or perhaps most likely) place: At work. There is sort of a conversation, but mostly a one-way beating. (Winner: Seishirou)
The YFCC is a pretty quiet place in the evening. Unless your name happens to be Zach Glen. Most of the kids have gone home, and many of the staff members have as well. Zach is the one person you can absolutely count on to be here in the late evening or early night.
He takes his job as janitor and handyman very seriously. Enough so that he calls it his job, even if professional fighting pays the bills way better.
Currently he is taking out two large bags of garbage, one over each shoulder, out one of the back door to the dumpsters. He has no clue of what is about to happen...
Tonight, Zach is not alone.
As he hauls the bags over each shoulder, wet roughyarns just in front of the door work the tiled floor vigorously, stirring the slightest of suds and leaving a brisk wet trail in its path. another YFCC worker apparently seems to enjoy the nightshift, a lean man cleaning up energetically. He wears the rugged slacks and the black shirt of a workman, the sleeves of a navy blue jacket rolled up to his elbows and a short-billed official's work cap dropping a shadow on a thin, emotionless face. Thin black bangs hang to either side, sprouting from the cap's edges.
"Clean, clean," the workman murmurs. "So that they'll be sparkling for the next day," he continues, mostly to himself, the monotony of his voice suggesting it's not the first time he's said those exact words tonight. From the slickness of the floors just before the back door is reached, he's apparently been at it for awhile.
Only one could swear he wasn't there minutes ago.
Has he ever been /seen/ at the center?
"Work work," he murmurs, until Zach comes close. He pauses, the bar of his mop--a shiny, new thing--blocking the rear exit pointedly. He doesn't look up, a frown marking his face. He is silent for a time. But only just long enough for curiosity's favor to settle in. "Late work," he explains and observes at once. "Don't step on the floor," he insists, apparently speaking of the just-mopped tile.
Then he continues his labor.
Zach has, in his brief time working at the YFCC, is that it does not really matter if you have placed in high-profile fighting tournaments or win honors in a widely televised fighting league that there is still one constant:
Nobody pays attention to the janitor. Especially if they are holding a mop or a broom. They just blend right into the scenery. Zach has tested, and proven this once or twice just to be sure. As a strange result, he tends to pay more attention to cleaning staff. You just never know who they could be. Zach's eyes narrow as he stops in front of the mop after having tossed both bags into the dumpster handily.
"Are you..." Zach says uncertainly, "...new here or something? Noone said anything about getting help around here." Truth was, Zach had a pretty good handle on things most days. Winters were a little more difficult, but it stopped snowing months ago.
"--Mop, mop," the janitor interrupts.
This continues on for a few moments, as he sloshes the mop back and forth in an easy, steady rhythm, seeming fairly oblivious to Zach and his line of questioning. More appropriately, he seems to be ignoring the question entirely. It's only after a time the janitor even deigns to speak at all.
"I'm surprised you don't remember. I met you awhile back. We were interrupted," he mentions, plopping the mop into a huge safety-yellow bucket with casters. Despite the fact he's mopped the entire floor with detergent, there is no suspended dirt in the thing when he draws the lever to squeeze out the excess into the bucket. This water, in fact, is actually perfectly clear despite his efforts.
"I'd say it was rude, but we never really did get acquainted properly." He shrugs, providing no other explanation as to his identity, before looking down at Zack's feet.
Tsk. "Stepping on the floor."
An instant later, the lacquered end of the mop is a blur as the janitor attacks Zach in a straight thrust, aiming for his midsection.
COMBATSYS: Seishirou has started a fight here.
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Seishirou 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Zach has joined the fight here.
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Zach 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Seishirou
COMBATSYS: Zach blocks Seishirou's Quick Strike.
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Zach 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Seishirou
Zach claps his hands towards the blurring mop handle, catching the strike between his palms. His eyes narrow as he eyes the "janitor." The tip barely stabs into Zach's midsection, eliciting a slight grunt from the young man. Sneakers scrape across the asphault of the back lot. Zach frowns.
"Troublemaker of the week, I see," Zach says with a slight grin. His face shows the recognition of the Jinchuu organizer. "You could have just asked, you know," he says.
Still gripping the mop, Zach twists as he tightens his hands around the stick, seeking to use it as a lever to hurl the intruder away, before following it up with a spherical burst of psychic energies to send his opponent away from the building proper...
COMBATSYS: Seishirou counters Quick Throw from Zach with Calculated Tactics.
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Zach 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Seishirou
"That assumes a worthless pretense." Ryouhara replies, a cold even tone customary to he and his clan overtaking his humility. His gloves tighten on the mop as Zach grabs it, dark brown eyes flashing noticeably under the community center lighting.
A pause.
The Ryouhara shinobi shows just a touch of fang.
Ca-click. He twists the other end of the mop, the section moving, and emitting a familiar sound as it does. It sounds like.. the chambering of a round. -- What? The end of the mop glows noticeably as Ryouhara's energy slides through the mop ninkou, waking it. "Gathering data isn't about permission."
he ninkou barks loud as the tip of the shaft splits open, the shotgun-like weapon releasing at point blank a sealed exploding ninja cannonshell at Zack just as he begins to exert leverage, designed to release Seishirou's chi only when a slug makes contact. Despite the arcane design, the mop releases a brass casing nonetheless. It looks all too mcuh like a rifle round casing as it bounces across the tile, wrapped in thin strips of sizzling hot paper.
Zach is blasted back by the chi shotgun slug to the chest, shirts shredding and blood spraying across the lot between the two men. Glen arcs through the air, falling out of the arc looking as if he may land headfirst. Zach twists back hard, thrusting both palms toward the ground to handspring to his feet. He glares back at Seishirou. He rubs his chest tenderly, the palm coming away red.
"That's gonna be a pain in the butt to clean. Couple gallons of Coke, at least," Zach complains. He considers for a moment; his usual style of fighting is simply not going to work unless he cn force the Ryouhara to relocate. Zach circles Sei, moving towards the building carefully. "So. Do I interest you that much?" Zach asks before leaping into a forward flip, his back leg arcing up and over his opposite shoulder as psycho power washes over the foot in an improvised attempt at a well-known move. Given Zach's admiration of Terry Bogard, the cry of "CRACK SHOOT!" is not at all surprising as Zach aims the foot at Seishirou's collarbone with bone crunching force!
COMBATSYS: Seishirou blocks Zach's Second Stance.
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Zach 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Seishirou
"Don't get cocky about it," Ryouhara reminds Zach, his mop shuddering as Zack's axe kick impacts against it, the weight of Zach's body only causing the weapon to flex just so. He moves with it, allowing Zack's momentum to carry on to the ground. "You should know. The community center, as a nexus point for some of the strongest of Southtown's youth, is naturally going to be attractant to the wrong attentions."
His eyes widen, as a blade pierces through his chest, three feet of steel slipping through him and past his guard on through to impale Zach. "Ghk..." The blood dripping down the blade is matched only by the line down his chin.
The image of Seishirou flickers and disappears.
Another Seishirou is in the shadow of the first, his hand gripping the length of the mop now on the ground, back turned on Zach with his hand on the hilt of a second weapon--a long blade from a concealed sheath plunged through his own copy's chest in aims to go on through to hit Zach himself.
COMBATSYS: Seishirou successfully hits Zach with Kawarimi Suicide.
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Zach 1/-======/=======|===----\-------\0 Seishirou
Zach does not see the blade coming in time; he has never dealt with shadow clones, or replacement decoys or other such ninja tricks. The sword buries its tip in Zach's flank, eliciting a yell from the shorter fighter as he staggers away from the ninja. He is on the losing end of this fight. Sadly, this is more than familiar territory for the young psyker.
However, he still looks determined to see this out at the very least. "It's a good thing then," Zach says as he palms a small sphere of purple-white energy in his right hand, "That I'm not the strongest fighter here, yeah?" Zach drives in again, clenching the small globe tightly as the concentrated power sweeps up his arm to reinforce it, to cover it in a sort of psychic plate mail.
Zach plants his feet, setting into a good stance as he fires a heavy right hook with that armored hand. If it connects, it will likely (more like hopefully) fling Seishirou away from the building. That would allow Zach to cut loose a bit more against the clearly more skilled opponent.
COMBATSYS: Seishirou endures Zach's Burst Strike.
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Zach 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Seishirou
The blade spins quickly as Seishirou draws the blade from Zack, shaking the blood off quickly, examining it under a chill eye. "You'd be surprised," Ryouhara mentions. "There is something in your blood that I can sense. Just barely, but it is there. It.. is of interest to me." He turns slowly.
"Show it to me. Show me that strength of yours.."
It's been a careful fight of maneuvering. Seishirou's recognized that. By staying close to the building, Zach's limited actions have shown him that Zach is either a mobility battler, or hiding some secret power to him. This is why he draws himself away. Being willingly socked in the jaw and blown away with the armored hand, his body being enervated with energy. Part of that, and that alone allows Zach that much. Ryouhara's curiosity. And his plan. Blown away and bleeding noticeably now, the ninja's blade slams into the center's concrete, levering until the ninja.. is perfectly balanced atop it. "Ugh..." he groans, crouching low on the hilt with a single boot, his eyes now clearly revealed, from his hat being blown away in the blast. It stung.. but it was information he needed. "Even despite my defense... hm. Let's see how your defense fares."
He stands slowly atop the blade, and breathes out.
A stray ember floats through on the wind..
The cracks in the pavement slowly begin to glow red. The steel of his sword begins to grow faintly before him. Temperature becomes a malleable thing. Even in the cool spring night, balm and perspiration seem an easy thing to achieve. It seemed warm before. But now... in but moments, it's like standing inside a furnace. The gestureless jutsu of Seishirou extends out into the night air and towards Zach. To come close to Ryouhara is like coming close to a livid inferno of heat. It's not something that can be seen, for the transmission element of Seishirou's jutsu is 'air itself'. Seishirou's not trying to hit Zach with a projectile of chi. He's trying to surround him.
The forge stokes itself, as Ryouhara wipes away blood from his lip..
He's trying to suffocate him where he stands, by boiling the air away entirely.
"Strong enough to make this not a waste.." It'll be interesting to see how long Zach can handle it.
COMBATSYS: Seishirou successfully hits Zach with Katon - Shinrou Kiritsu.
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Zach 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\0 Seishirou
Zach gasps, as the air around him starts to superheat quickly. He's a Midwestern boy, born and raised. A bit of trivia: It is =proven= that Midwesterners are more prone to heat stress injuries than most other Americans. It has to do with the climate, really. The coolness that pervades the Great Lakes region that makes acclimating to the heat that much more difficult.
This, plus Zach's previously mentioned lack of experience with dealing with ninja techniques, gets Seishirou much of his desired result. Zach starts to wobble dangerously, his reserves running dangerously low from the heat. That, plus the bleeding, and it may be suprising to Seishirou that Zach is still standing at all. Closer inspection will show Ryouhara that the sword wound is already closed, the bleeding there stopped. The bleeding on his chest still continues from an ugly, fist-sized scar that is clearly visible.
Glen knows he has enough for one last gamble, one last move. Seishirou must have missed some of Zach's earlier fights, or not read the file Riko put together on the fighter content to be a janitor at a youth center. If he had done either of those, Seishirou would have known. Zach cups his palms by his hip, a basketball-sized sphere of energies gathering between the waiting hands. Seishirou would have known the one thing, the one reason why Zach was trying to angle the ninja away from the building.
Zach Glen has more psychic energy than he knows what to do with, or how to safely handle in some situations.
The stance is unmistakable. What with Ryu, Ken Masters, Sean Matsuda, Sakura Kasugano, and countless other Ansatsuken fighters running around on the fighting circuits, that forward lean, with the braced feet, the hands down and back and gathering energy. There are only two differences between the move of those fighters, and the one Zach is about to unleash. The first is obvious: There is no movement of chi. At all. All of this energy seems to be produced, if not out of nowhere, then somewhere within Zach himself.
The second difference is far more obvious. The blast Zach throws forth is five feet in diameter, and persists for several seconds before fading into nothingness.
After the stream of energy disappates, Zach wobbles one last time, before falling on his face.
COMBATSYS: Zach can no longer fight.
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Seishirou 1/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Zach successfully hits Seishirou with Burst Stream.
- Power hit! -
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Seishirou 1/-----==/=======|
You'd be amazed at what Seishirou's eye can discern. He's had some time to look at the reports, but for those who deal in information, there are some things Seishirou needs to see. For himself, that is. For some... Seishirou doesn't /need/ to look at the file. When the steam curls from the earth around Zach, Seishirou only watches on, a witness. Shinrou Kiritsu was a slow suppression jutsu--the infusion of the air with a pure heat chi. Even the strongest fighter will inevitably succumb, given enough time. But when Zach returns with that five foot wide blast of his own..
..Ryouhara's eyebrow raises, ever so slightly.
"Interesting."
A moment later, he disappears beneath the wave.
It is minutes before Seishirou gets to his feet. Were it not for his own strength... dying would not have been an impossibility. ".. Hm," blandly, his lip turns. "As expected.." he coughs, frowning at the crimson that sprays on the ground as he does. Looking over to Zach's body.. he frowns, picking up the mop, which lay, only by a miracle still in one piece.
Walking past Zach, he moves to the bucket. "Impressive." Slosh.
"Time to clean up."
Log created on 20:22:58 05/28/2008 by Zach, and last modified on 21:46:09 05/29/2008.