Description: Preston Alistair Wellington the II comes across an old adversary while walking through a crosswalk; pornography. More accurately, he runs into Shihong Howard and the two break into fisticuffs as only a would-be racist and a ... prostitute(?!) can! OH HO, last laugh goes to the oar!
"And that's why we can't have nice things."
From the door of the Duck Pond emerges an Asian woman in black with a phone pressed to her ear and a smirk on her lips. Occupied with her conversation, the woman is otherwise ignorant to the world around her--or so one would believe. Eyes on the ground, she exits the club and enters the streets, not a care in the world, or consideration for others. The Chinese enforcer clips a few shoulders on her way out of the busy Pond.
"You can't continue going around, hurting the ones you fancy," The woman's conversation continues into the expensive cellular pressed to her ear, waltzing elegantly through the streets, she strides about, forcing people to weave at the last second from out of her way as she does as she pleases. Only does Shihong pause when she reaches a crosswalk, a hand slapping the signal button.
"I can't quite follow that line of logic. Can't you just buy, I don't know. Candy or something?"
Sluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurp.
The woman wipes a forearm across her mouth, staring with those too-small Asian eyes into the camera as it fades to dark in all of its pixelated glory. The British boy squints. “Fookin' filthy fuckers,” he alliterates, with a heavy, disapproving shake of his head.
It isn't much longer after that that he finds himself at a crosswalk, waiting to cross. He stares at the sea of black-haired, relatively-short people who wait to cross opposite him. He isn't entirely surprised by what he sees. As far as he's concerned, it's just another day in Southtown; he's surrounded by Asians, but that's ok. He's used to it by now, and he isn't the slightest bit put off by it. This is his life, for the time being at least.
The tell-tale sign changes, and Preston Alistair Wellington the II walks out into the intersection with a thousand other people. And most of them are polite; they get out of his way. He's big, he's carrying an oar across his shoulders, and generally they're just passive enough to avoid him -- apart from the odd gaggle of girls who recognize him from the television and scream their surprise.
That doesn't happen at this particular crossing. But something else does.
Someone bumps his shoulder.
“Watch where you're fuckin' goin',” Preston grouses over one shoulder, seemingly intent to simply let the altercation go as he ambles on. But two paces on, he pauses, footsteps ceasing. He squints, face twisting slightly as if he smelt something decidedly off in the air.
Did someone fart, or did he just recognize someone?
COMBATSYS: Preston has started a fight here.
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Preston 0/-------/-------|
Watch where you're fuckin' goin', a English-accented voice grunts.
A frown crosses the Chinese woman's thin red lips. Black eyes narrow sharply, as her hand clutches to the phone pressed to her ear. Someone did not just tell her to watch where she's going; in response a thin black brow twitches.
"I'll call you back," the woman murmurs into the phone.
Snapping the sleek black phone shut and tucking it away into her coat's pocket, the Chinese woman shoots an unpleasant glare in Preston Alistair Wellington the II's direction as he ambles onward. He's tall, he's muscular and certainly imposing; but that means nothing. Not when he's decided to be a smart ass.
"Maybe your large unwieldy ass should watch where it's going, eh?" the woman calls out at the Brit's backside as he wanders off. "In fact, let me help you with that. Eat concrete, ass."
Suddenly charging forward, the leggy Chinese woman sprints at Preston and leaps, attempting to deliver a flying side kick right into Preston's back, three inch steel stiletto heel and all.
COMBATSYS: Shihong has joined the fight here.
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Preston 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shihong
COMBATSYS: Preston just-defends Shihong's Medium Kick!
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Preston 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shihong
As it turns out, the tall boy pauses because the person who just clipped him has indeed tickled a memory. “Did she make me some fuckin' dim-sims?” Preston questions himself, preferring the sound of his voice over the sound of Shihong's own. And as it turns out, it's her talking that draws him out of his mental contemplation.
His attention shifts, hazel gaze suddenly clearing as he watches her approaching so swiftly from over his shoulder. His body presence, his very weight, shifts. That heel of hers ends up impacting square into the fleshy, muscular posterior of a Duke's son.
And with one massive flex, he twists the kick and the heel aside, the attempt to strike thoroughly thwarted by a bun of substantial steel. “Oh, I fuckin' remember you now,” Preston growls the words out, rounding on her. The oar waves through, blade held flat to cut the air and drive her a pace or two back.
“You're that bitch from the video, yeah? Two girls, one cup? Fuckin' teammate showed me that, bitch that she is. Surprised though, didn't think you'd make that much cash offa swallowin' that kind of load,” Preston offends as only he can, gesturing pointedly at the high-quality and high-cost outfit she sports.
But hardly starstruck, he instead seeks to strike. The oar whistles forward, thrusting right at her, seemingly on a collision strike! But switching his grip, the weapon stops just short of impact. Instead the Brit suddenly tears it up to the heavens as blue-white energy cascades down the cool length of wood, the wake of his upwards motion streaking forward in a crescent arc of chi!
COMBATSYS: Preston successfully hits Shihong with White Horses.
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Preston 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
Rather than lodge the heel into Preston...
The heel...ricochets right off.
No matter; the woman's heel just plants and the Chinese woman leaps off. Backflipping, she lands a short distance from the large Brit, black eyes half-lidding as she looks at the unmoving man before her. He remembers her?
"The hell, I don't even know you," the woman offers, her tone low and grave. The thrusted oar blade serves to force her back a few inches at her. But then he elaborates. Two girls..?
"The HELL is wrong with you!?" the woman shrilly yelps, staring at the large youth with a look of utter disbelief. Her face flushed, the expression of surprise only shifts to annoyance and anger as he just doesn't shut up. Clearly the British student has a death wish.
But before she can snap at the youth, the oar whistles and sends a wash of blue-white energy striking into the woman's body, causing the Chinese enforcer to exhale loudly and stagger back from impact. It burns. It stings. It's...
That annoying chi shit she hates.
"F-for crying out loud," the woman murmurs, her steps slow. ..before she suddenly twists from the waist up. Her body leaps up from the ground, her momentum carrying her feet-first at Preston like some human drill. Again, he has those heels to worry about; on the other hand, however, he now has another concern.
The fiery, vermillion-red energy burning up and down her legs that, should her heels impact, will explode and could very well send Preston off his feet.
COMBATSYS: Shihong successfully hits Preston with Strutting Crow.
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Preston 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
Keeping the oar held up in the air for a time after the strike, the Brit simply watches as the woman staggers back. There's a slight grin on the boy's face; he seems rather amused by the effect it has on her. He knows it isn't his most potent strike, but something tells him that...
Well, whatever realization was about to hit him falls by the wayside as the girl suddenly seeks to return the favor. She leaps at him, twisting and firing that energy, and with a sour grunt Preston attempts to bring the oar into play and cushion the blow he knows he cannot evade, however agile a fighter he is.
It doesn't quite go as planned. He was anticipating a kick, not the sudden explosion that rocks him. The Brit staggers back and falls down onto one knee. A petite Asian woman, a bystander, screams 'Go'zilla!' and runs.
Within moments, the intersection is clear save for the two fighters. “Oh, that packed a surprise punch,” Preston grumbles, pushing himself up. His hazel gaze settles on Shihong, this time with a little bit of wary anticipation. She's definitely something, not just the usual would-be aikido user he usually ends up running into on the streets in his search for a bottle of milk.
Regardless, he isn't about to simply walk away. Not when he can instead hit her really hard. “Well, not really what I was fuckin' expectin', but if you want a fight... Let's do this.”
Twisting the oar up over his head, he spins it hand over hand, the finesse of a staff fighter coming to the fore as he takes one step forward. Pivoting, he lashes out, unleashing a vicious diagonal slash at Shihong in an attempt to put her where he thinks she belongs. And it ain't in the kitchen.
COMBATSYS: Shihong dodges Preston's Fierce Strike.
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Preston 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
Feet collide, a resulting burst of brilliant red energy rocking the British youth--right into an unsuspecting crowd of poor innocent Asian men and women. His near-fall sends them scattering, but that's the furthest thing from Shihong's mind. Instead, she focuses on one thing:
Kicking this guy's bad-mouthed Briton's ass.
Landing in a low crouch, the woman plants a hand to support her weight before she rises swiftly, in time to eye the younger man as he grumbles and rises to his feet. His words earn him a faint smirk, black eyes half-lidded as she just stares the imposing Briton down.
"Yeah, well," Lifting her hands, she lets her hand press into her palm, knuckles audibly cracking.
"Whatever it takes to make you clean that filthy mouth of yours, ol' chap. Cheers, pip pip cherrio, or whatever your kind say," she offers, smirking a touch more as those black eyes fix on the Brit's arms. Those muscles are tightening, and it's the signal she needs to ready herself.
Tensing her legs, the woman leaps back, landing on her hands before she springs once more, avoiding the oar strike altogether. When she lands on her heels, the woman is ready to offer the Brit a smirk.
"Is that all?" she asks as her body lurches forward, leaping forward as she attempts to deliver not one, but two kicks: the first a flying side kick, followed by a spinning back kick right for poor Preston's jaw. "HIYAAAH!"
COMBATSYS: Shihong successfully hits Preston with Change-Up Kick.
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Preston 0/-------/-======|===----\-------\0 Shihong
Now that was... at least somewhat unexpected!
The cross-body diagonal slash fails to end with a meaty chunk of wood hitting bone and flesh, but rather simply whooshes the air as Shihong proves elusive. The lithe Asian evades, putting distance between the two, which results in a sour growl from the tall Brit. He starts to see red. It can't be a good thing.
So rather than wait, he streams forward even as she sends herself into a short series of kicks. He makes no move to evade, simply taking both kicks; the latter clocks him across the jaw, and rather than keep his forward momentum he's sent tumbling back. His arms pinwheel. He doesn't fall, instead running his big forearm across his mouth. What follows is disgusting; he spits blood to one side.
“Cute little move there, luv,” Preston 'compliments' her, a smirk painting his features as he brings the blade of the oar in close to his meaty fist. Brandishing the weapon like an oversized paddle, he spends but a moment to contemplate his actions before deciding to put himself into overdrive. A guttural roar bellows from his belly as he steps forward, driving the weapon right for her stomach, a sickening blow aimed to debilitate and stun.
But that isn't all Shihong has to contend with. If successful, he promptly lifts the oar upwards in a makeshift uppercut; but the contact of wood and skull won't be the real problem, oh no! The sudden burst of chi will, as the ground beneath her explodes in a sudden geyser of that dreaded blue-white energy the boy commands so readily!
COMBATSYS: Shihong blocks Preston's Azimuth Circle.
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Preston 0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0 Shihong
While Preston starts seeing red, so too does the Asian woman--quite literally.
Black eyes flicker with the faintest hints of rich vermillion as she sprints forward, heels clicking furiously before she springs, delivering a twofold kick that sends the young man staggering, but not falling. But that is the least of the Chinese woman's worries; instead she pushes off and flips, landing in a light crouch before she stands upright, smiling demurely.
"Thanks, Big Ben," the woman comments, despite how fake the compliment delivered seems. Those eyes immediately shift to the oar as it draws into his large fist like some giant paddle. Then, a roar like some horrible beast from the depths of the sea, as he drives the oar for her gut. But rather than collide with her stomach, the oar meets her forearms.
Launched up from the lift, the woman's body curls tightly to stave off the sudden burst of whitish-blue chi at the Brit's command. Only when the proverbial dust settles does Shihong land with a stagger.
"Not so bad yourself," she offers, meeting his smirk with a smirk as black eyes again flicker red, fixed on the imposing young student and that fearsome oar of his. "But really, brute strength and a bit of flashy water slinging aren't enough. Let's see what you can REALLY do. I'd rather I not waste my time, you know." Shifting her weight, Shihong adopts a rather casual stance.
"Make me work for your defeat, and my inevitable victory."
COMBATSYS: Shihong focuses on her next action.
There's a vicious growl, like a bull that just failed to properly gore the matador, as Shihong musters her defenses and blocks the strike of wood and water. The elements are not on Preston's side as of yet; perhaps Mother Nature is favoring her chosen, given how delightfully populace they are. But when the dust does clear, the Asian proves decidedly... lippy.
And it certainly does draw the young man's eyes down into a squint to rival Shihong's own. "What the fuck kind of pose is that? Is that some kind of fortune cookie bullshit you just dropped on me, luv?"
Still, is he going to do as requested and launch another strike? If it was a year ago, the goad would likely have been successful. Instead, the boy simply twists the oar in his grip, letting the blade revolve as he simply issues a quick shake to his head and holds his ground. An almost amused grin appears on his face, if not for the fact that the look in his eyes foretells future violence.
"Not gonna be that easy to lure me into your pretty little web. Bet the claptrap's full of spiders too, huh honey?" Preston retorts as only he can, going so far as to blow a kiss at her. It seems that if Shihong wants to claim victory, the Brit will make her work for it from the outset.
He lifts the oar, still holding it as an oversized paddle, and beckons her in.
Meanwhile, traffic piles up and a crowd gathers.
COMBATSYS: Preston focuses on his next action.
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Preston 0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0 Shihong
Preston's mouth is...certainly something. For the longest of moments the woman eyes the youth carefully before she softly scoffs, black eyes flickering aside at the gathered flocks of men and women looking on. Really now. Spiders?
"Not quite," the Chinese woman replies. "And not everything out of an Asian's mouth comes from a fortune cookie, but if you like I can offer a shred of advice." The woman's lips twitch, a thin rouge smirk edging its way over her pale face as she offers a glance up and down the Brit. She privately decides that he'd follow.
"They say in China a jade stone is useless before it is processed. In this instance it means a man is useless before he is educated." Pausing briefly, she offers another looking-over of the young, albeit taller, young man before her. "So in this case, let me educate you, so that you may be of use. Clearly you hadn't learned from our previous encounter." Her smirk fades, features stern as she offers a glare.
"Do not insult me again. Do you follow?" The kiss is shrugged off with a light snort.
Long arms stretch out before her, flickering flames of vermillion energy sparking in her fingertips. It grows like fresh kindle on fire, spiraling and climbing over and across her arms and palms, growing stronger as the woman breathes. She focuses, black eyes narrowing sharply as that energy grows and grows...
Before her arms tense and spiral about before thrusting forward, a huge gout of rich vermillion flame roaring like a primeval dragon at the youth, maw-first.
COMBATSYS: Preston endures Shihong's Coiled Dragon.
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Preston 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Shihong
It would appear that the young man... has maybe hit the mark with his skillfully chosen words? Then again, who can say for sure -- the two are in a fight, so the subsequent attack was likely coming his way regardless of the words that flew through the air.
As it turns out, Shihong lets more than just her words retaliate. The energy grows and then fires at the Brit... who with a grin that would almost look more at place on the face of one of his teammates, simply slams his boots into the ground and leaps forward.
This does not spare him the wrath of the dragon. If anything, it makes it worse; he puts himself at the mercy of the elements, and they are less than kind to him. The energy -- the very opposite of the type he himself manifests -- impacts but does not slow him down. It tears at his clothing, ripping it from his flesh, leaving him with a smoking, tattered shirt as he streams forward the rest of the way. If he had any hair, it would likely be gone.
Shihong needs to be concerned, and potentially for very good reason. There's a bull charging right at her, but rather than giving her the horns it seems to putter to a stop just a few paces short.
And again, there's a good reason for it; the oar.
Twisting it around his back, his thick fingers prove nimble as he deftly spins the weapon into the fore, letting momentum stream forward through his body and down the length he swings forward. It's a sculpted, aimed strike for her scalp that she needs to be immediately concerned with. "Clearly I don't!" Preston begins his retort, the first of a trio of strikes; a rare combo from a man more prone to simply knocking the shit out of his opponents.
Following the first strike with a second, direct thrust for her belly, the Brit continues; "So why don't you try and hit me a little harder, luv! I don't get a taste of what you throw around very often!"
And should she prove massively unsuccessful, the retort again takes a sharp turn as he aims to sweep her legs out from under her, leaving himself poised to one side with his back partially turned. "Unless you're too busy on your back, sweetheart."
COMBATSYS: Preston successfully hits Shihong with Queen's Regulations.
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Preston 0/-------/-======|=======\==-----\1 Shihong
Did the bull-headed Brit just blaze THROUGH her attack?
Blinking with disbelief as Preston barges through the fiery burst of psychic flame, she has precious little time--if any at all--to properly react. Her hands reach up, daring to shield her body from harm...until he stops short with the oar in hand. That is when Shihong makes a terrible mistake:
She briefly drops her guard.
"It would seem that way. It's a shame, too. I--"
The woman cannot finish, as she's swiftly and suddenly caught off her guard by the threefold strike of Preston's massive oar. It knocks the wind out of the woman, sending her staggering in pain and grief, a hand clutching at her chest as she's nearly forced off of her feet. Clearly she made the mistake of underestimating him.
It's a mistake she chooses not to make twice.
"I have better means of occupying my time, thanks," she ultimately replies, black eyes narrowing sharply as she keeps the youth in her sights. Her feet stir, as the Chinese woman begins a cautious stride forward, her heels flaring up with more red energy.
The stride soon turns into a dash...that soon becomes a sudden leap forward, legs igniting as she flies...
Right at Preston.
Her intentions are clear: to impact Preston with her heels. But the impact is light; the real oomph comes from the sudden flare and spike of Psycho Power that lances through his stomach, followed by a burst. The woman's body flies off, her body backflipping off the youth's barrel-like chest as she swings her legs around and ultimately downwards, to let her heels again lightly impact with the top of his head. The impact, if any, results in another angry burst of psychic flames.
COMBATSYS: Shihong successfully hits Preston with Bird of Paradise.
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Preston 1/---====/=======|=------\-------\0 Shihong
And just when it seemed to be going so well! The Brit stands resolute over the fallen Shihong, a slight sneer taking his lips. He executed the move flawlessly, just as his relentless teacher -- his uncle, a smuggler and a would-be pirate -- has drilled into him. The finesse was there, the move decidedly more gentle and stylish than the usual way he beats his opposition into submission; yet the impact is clear, the damage keenly felt by the fallen Asian.
But that doesn't mean the fat lady has sung. Not by a long way it seems, as the floored Asian sprints back into the fray.
Turning to face her properly costs him; he cannot muster his defenses in time, however he lifts the oar to stop her -- sudden leg explosion?!
Having expected her to physically impact makes the situation even worse for Preston. The flare of Psycho Power scorches deep into his chest, and her subsequent flip and strike only adds to his agony. With a decidedly scorched face -- and a pained expression lost somewhere in the sudden blackface he shorts -- the Brit falls like the tall timber he is.
Down onto one knee he plummets, landing with a heavy grunt as he slides backwards. Whatever was left of his shirt has now ceased to exist, and he kneels before Shihong -- although a few paces off -- with a grimace. Is he done? It would seem so, but he may yet have the last laugh. "Christ," he laments, a shake of his head. That power... so seldom has he encountered it, his defenses simply inadequate in the face of it.
"I'll give you this, luv. You sure know how to pack a punch with those legs of yours. Pity you've got no arse to speak of."
Whether the statement is true or not, it seems that the Brit is destined to fall. With a slight shake of his head, he visibly musters his flagging strength for one last strike. Heaving his chest, Preston lets loose a bellow as he rises into a sudden, powerful uppercut, aiming to cleave that oar square into the underside of Shihong's chin and send her to the same place she's sent many, many seamen before her!
Overboard!
COMBATSYS: Preston can no longer fight.
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Shihong 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Shihong blocks Preston's Man Overboard!.
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Shihong 0/-------/---====|
Her message?
Punctuated.
Smirking as the second kick off lands and sends the poor Brit tumbling away from impact. Heels flicker with vermillion before they snuff out entirely, motes of red drifting through the air as she gracefully touches down. And when she's on her feet again, the woman offers a demure smirk, black eyes hooding slightly. He hasn't fallen yet?
He's like a damn oak tree.
"Thanks again, big guy," the woman offers, still grinning as the young man takes to a knee. "Like I said, you're not so bad yourself. But really, that mouth of yours..." Her head shakes lightly, a soft hiss of mock disappointment slipping past her lips. "Really need to work on that."
But Preston isn't down and out yet: he opts to fight to the bitter end with that trusty oar of his. Wielding his oar, he musters his strength and sends a horrible driving blow right for the Asian woman. Immediately the woman responds, lifting her forearms and drawing them protectively near her, catching the uppercut-like blow in her forearms.
It hurts a lot more than expected, drawing a loud hiss from the woman's lips as she's forced back from the surprisingly brutish blow received. Arms shudder, shaking out as she staggers away from Preston, trying to get feeling back in her arms...before she grins.
"You're quite an asshole, but it was fun. More fun than I should have had, all things considered." With a light pivot of her heels, the woman turns her back and lifts a hand up, waving absently. "Still though, work on the mouth. And maybe get yourself a nice suit or something. You have potential, but..."
Shoulders shrug absently.
"Work on it, son. Maybe next time you'll come out on top~?"
A hand waves again over her shoulder as the woman begins to walk off. What a day!
COMBATSYS: Shihong has ended the fight here.
Log created on 06:23:05 07/07/2008 by Preston, and last modified on 08:20:30 07/08/2008.