Description: Episode 5: Monk + Miko = Motivation OR It's Going To Take More Than A Montage! Nataya and Rust take a trip to the YFCC to see what they can do to help and do a little training. Mizuki's fortuitous appearance makes training even more interesting, and Nataya tries to instill a little more motivation in Rust. Will Howard Rust ever manage to overcome his fears and anxieties? Stay tuned!
The YFCC. The Young Fighters' Community Center. It has had a troubled 'life'; since the inception of the center, since its building, various people have come to try and destroy it. But few have achieved as much destruction as Igniz and his motley crew. The YFCC was very nearly completely wrecked--things broken with efficiency and power, and with very little regard for others.
The impact is more mental and emotional than anything else; already the YFCC is relatively clean, though the wounds in the walls are not all bandaged, as it were, with plaster and spackle, the scabby cracks still prominent. But life goes on; the classes are likely smaller, but still being run. Perhaps not right at the moment; at the moment Mizuki does occupy the center, at the desk, though she looks distracted. Who could imagine why?
The reason a place like the YFCC is constantly targetted for attacks eludes Nataya entirely. After all, the place is basically a facility for kids to hang out and train, right? It makes about as much sense as sending a Panzer brigade to attack a daycare center, but this probably the reason why Nataya isn't being scouted for the international terror trade. After all, who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?
Even so, the name "YFCC" has been repeated enough in her chance encounters so that Nataya decides to come and visit. Along with her is Rust, a co-worker now at Pacific High who she decided to give a call to. Since her goal now is to prepare him to fight young fighters, what better place to do so than at the YFCC?
It's that kind of short, insular logic that gets Nataya places sometimes as she watches the construction going on in the lobby of the building. It's a nice enough place, she decides, as she waits around in a simple outfit consisting of a faded blue t-shirt and jeans with dirty white sneakers. Her prayer beads are worn as a necklace today, the usually dark brown beads wrapping around her neck like a particularly odd choker. It's a bit of a fashion don't, but her days of style mongering have long since passed.
She shuffles about, inspecting the work with some interest before the sight of Mizuki catches her eye. "Hey!" She calls with a smile, giving her a short wave as she waits for the middle aged Rust Howard to appear.
Mr. Rust has had a colorful week for a man whose life is drenched in the mundane, unremarkable, and unglamorous compared to so many that have been able to make a killing on professional international circuits. In between the usual slump of a brand new semester alongside meeting some parents over their concerns and/or those that just want to meet the teachers in question before placing down the cash to send their children to the Southtown chapter of Pacific, there's been one thing he's been meaning to do in between things his job requires him to dedicate time, energy, patience, blood, sweat, and tears for. Little of it is really relevant to the moment.
Seeing the construction at hand makes him feel a strange sort of ease with memories of his old job as a construction worker, back in America. He's familiar with what's going on here, and all the care and respect is being given in choosing where he walks to get inside. He's not a remarkable man. Stout and thick, sure, but he's just another guy. Another guy who runs around in dusty old clothing who happens to have a rusty length of pipe thrust through a pocket in his toolbelt as though it were meant to be a sheath. It's not. It's a waste of a perfectly good toolbelt pocket. That, and the horror of middle aged male-brand self-delusion one calls a combover. Let's just go beyond that for now.
Appearing through the door with hardly an announcement other than a crack of his left shoulder as he idly rolls it about inside its socket for ill measure, the respective (gloved) hand scratches under his chin at some particularly irritating stubble as he puts his own discerning eye onto the repairs going on... and hey, at a glance, they're doing really good! They know what they're doing. A pleasant change from the fair majority of his own students from last semester. In a rare lapse of politeness, a short whistle escapes his lips on that single, chilling thought of what must've happened here to necessitate this many skilled workers to fix up. This place must've been a mess a week or so ago!
Mizuki startles a little; her blue eyes were quite unfocused, her mind clearly other places than the YFCC. She does her best to smile at Nataya--it's still rather wan, though, almost sickly. She was more comfortable with the idea of the YFCC being trashed when she hadn't seen it. When she could imagine the damage and not just see it, and the repairs going on. Still, Nataya is a welcome face; she hasn't yet met Rust, but she can already sense a solidness about him. "Nataya-san, welcome to the YFCC. Ah... and to you, too, sir," she says, her head nodding towards Rust--a moment later they're both given proper Japanese bows by the young miko.
"I'm afraid we're, ah... repairing some damage, but... the facilities are open. Or are you here to sign up to teach classes?" She isn't quite sure why they're here, but people who are here who aren't here to beat up students are a welcome thing in any case. The redheaded girl shakes her head, and offers another wan smile.
"I'm sorry, I--I'm a little distracted, so I'm rambling some. It's good to see you again, Nataya-san; whatever you're here for, I'm sure we'll help... or do whatever we can to help. Some of the facilities are still being repaired, of course..." Her voice trails off, waiting to hear what the two teachers are here for.
Well, Nataya's less of a teacher than she is a language tutor and a part time meditation instructor for the adult classes that Pacific High has in the afternoons as a way of getting tax breaks, but that's not really here or there. She doesn't seem too put off by Mizuki's somewhat discomforted appearance. Instead, she progresses forward, already giving the place a more thorough look.
"This is Mr. Howard," she says by means of introductions. "He teaches shop at Pacific high, and he's interested in getting back into the swing of things as a professional fighter. I'm just here to help him along and give him some moral support and pointers, since he's a little... well, I guess rusty!" She smirks as she shoos Rust in front of her so that he can make more definitive steps into the facility and not back down with the usual waffling and indecisiveness Nataya has come to expect from the man.
"But if you need a hand fixing the place up, I'm sure I can find the time to help. I've got some plumbing experience and I used to work in my Uncle's auto-shop, so I know my way around a toolbox," she says thoughtfully, and then nods to Rust. "And we have a bona fide shop teacher that can probably handle the rest. So if anything, I think we can help you more than the other way around."
The teacher in question is actually a bit more distracted by the work going on here. Every square inch of tarp, every bit of structural damage... that hole where the water pipes can be seen... tells quite a bit as to what happened here. Pacific High got off really light in comparison, in terms of structural damage. Now he feels guilty he didn't drag his slightly overweight, aging carcass out to go over the first details of clean-up and to get a better idea as to what the hell that attack on his own school was for to begin with!
When Mizuki bows to him, his attention snaps back to reality with a face that seems more appropriate to, say, a thief being caught in the act, in which he returns the bow a moment later almost sheepishly. He's pretty sure he saw her in person in the not too distant past, now what was her name...
While he's speculating, Nataya's already introducing him in his place, at which point he points his index finger up and looks to start speaking up for himself because she has proven very good at speaking preemptively. He nods his head at the shop teaching part, yeah, that's ri-- and then she brings up the whole professional fighting thing at which point he's about ready to outright protest where she promptly gets him up front at the cue of the bad name pun. It's not his fault he ended up living up to a punny surname!
"Uh... nice to see you again, Miss... Miss..." he snaps his fingers, what was her name... "Kami... Kamigawa, was it? From Miss Teen Southtown... right?" He was a judge for it, she was there for part of it. He coughs twice afterwards, a dry cough. Agh, dry throat! He pats himself with a closed fist.
At least Nataya crests into the subject of interest that actually brings him here tonight! "Back when I was younger, worked for a construction firm, back in the US." His gaze wanders over to his left as if staring at work in progress would jog memories that are slowly fading away as the months go by. Different times, different people, different life. "Meant to come by at least a week earlier to see if I could lend a hand or two... ahhh, got to say, I can see you got a lot of good help on hand." He nods his head as he straightens his eye contact back towards the younger miko. "More than happy to work with them."
The offers of help almost bring tears to Mizuki's eyes. Fortunately she has somewhat better control of herself than that; the warm offers do bring a smile to her lips, though. "I--we appreciate that, a lot. I'm sure if you talk to Frei-san... or Rose... that they'll be more than happy to take you up on the offers. Ah, but you didn't come here just to offer your aid, did you? You're here to fight..." The redhead nods.
"Or to prepare for it. I see. Well, we can help you out in that regard, certainly... if nothing else, we can provide a good 'working area'." A blink, when Rust mentions Miss Teen Southtown. Oh, of course.. no wonder he looked familiar. But the faces of the judges were hard to make out, in her nervousness.
"Yes, that's right... I had to drop out, for ah... for personal reasons. I wanted to keep going, though." She pauses, again. "You two are of course welcome to use the YFCC how you see fit. Of course we'd prefer if you don't hurt the young ones, but you might find some of them willing to test their skills against you. Or, if you like, I can participate, at least for a while."
"Actually, it's good that you're here, because Mr. Howard needs to be in excellent condition come tomorrow with his day job," Nataya says, once more railroading Rust with her own brand of perky Type A strongarming. "Also, he seems to suffer from a lot of physical joint ailments and allergies, so since you're a holisitic healer, I thought you might like to give him a little once over before we get started into anything heavy."
She turns to Rust, and continues briskly. "That should pretty much cover your concerns, at least in the short term. I bet with Mizuki's help, we can keep you training regularly despite any injuries you suffer. We'll be able to get you up to speed a lot quicker. You might not be able to recoup as fast as a younger fighter on your own, but if Mizuki is willing, I bet we can get you out there with the best of them."
Nataya looks satisfied with this. "So if you could help us out a little," the monk-trained girl says with a smile, "I'm sure I can work out some kind of exchange. Help with Mr. Howard's training, and I'll be more than happy to put some elbow grease into this place and teach some classes or some such thing."
The miko may have been nervous. Howard Rust, here, was locked in mortal combat with a stuffy suit, a choking tie, and the realization that he should've put the lights a biiiiiiit higher, as some of those jumps were too close a call. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice if he's ever called upon to assist in constructing a set for that!
'You're here to fight...' "Actually--" Argh! Nataya cuts him off again! A silent hiss escapes clenched teeth and a raised hand as if stung by something to the touch, her desire to help him get up to speed is one thing - something he greatly appreciates, but damn, he's going to have to find some way to take and maintain the flow of a conversation against her. She just has that sort of timing to her. It's like she knows when he's about to speak!
He relaxes when she turns to him. He nods his head. Yeah, grass pollen, and... yeah, his joints, his nearly everywhere, really, except for maybe his heart. His mouth opens with all the signs of being ready to speak up about the exchange, at which point he is flawlessly interrupted before even the very beginnings of a discernable word can be made. He doesn't want to personally trouble her at all, given the main reason why he wanted to come here. But leave it to Nataya, resourceful as she is, to find a way to kill two birds with one stone. (It is likely for his own good.)
And then he finally finds a chance to speak up again right around 'or some such thing,' "listen... I'm not here to beat on any kids here, you don't, don't need to worry about that." He says in his rough, gravelly voice in his attempt to convey the sincerity of his aims. "I got a hell of a day job, I'll tell you... kids wear me out. Work wears me out... other adults, they wear me out... I wear myself out. But, I don't mind swinging by after, after work. And some dinner." Yeah, especially dinner. He clears his throat a little again. "Sorry if I'm hard to hear or understand, I've got a... a really dry throat. Even if you say no, though... I can swing it." Nodding his head again a few times. "I can swing it either way."
"Oh, we don't need an exchange. The YFCC is about helping people, after all... I'd be glad to help, no matter what. In fact, you can talk to Frei-san later about helping rebuild, or teaching, or whatever you want--for now, you two came here to get Mr. Howard some training, and that is certainly something we can do for you. I'd be glad to help out."
Returning to form, Mizuki turns, gesturing deeper into the center. "The largest practice area is just over here; if you two want to get started, I'll go get some supplies--some water and the like. Alright?" She's not really giving them much choice, truth be told; the moves in the manner of someone that expects the two to go get started while she's gathering some things.
She's quite glad for the distraction--sitting in the YFCC, watching it be rebuilt, was both somewhat boring and really depressing to her.
Well how about that? Nataya's fairly happy all that worked out, and she steps forward to follow the miko into the practice area. "That's fine... but like I said, could you take a loot at Mr. Howard a little first? There's something to be said about a pre-fight diagnostic. No sense in exascerbating injury and then trying to look at them after the fact," she says as she waves for Rust to follow.
As an aside, she speaks to Rust as she trots after the Japanese girl briskly. "I fought her for Neo League a few days ago. I almost had her until she just seemed to pop back up near the end. It was one of the most remarkable abilities I've ever seen, being able to regenerate vitality no matter how hard I hit her."
Granted, it's impossible to say how hard Nataya actually hits. Certainly, she doesn't look too imposing, but that doesn't mean anything when it comes to fighting. Nothing out there really prepares you for getting practically murdered by a hobo with a red bandanna.
Coming to Southtown was going to be a big step in his life, the teacher thought. Being within the sheer proximity of neighborhoods that many of the world's greatest fighters have been raised in. A taste of a legacy he never thought he'd have a chance to try for again (even though he willingly went knowing it'd try and inspire him to). Being in a foreign country brings a lot of interesting new perspectives to things.
It really is okay for Nataya and himself to train in a building under repairs just by asking nicely enough! 'The YFCC is about helping people, after all.' "I... ah," he looks about the area again real quick to be sure that his CONSTRUCTION WORKER DANGER SENSES can safely stop tingling given where the young miko is directing them. "Thank you," he adds at the end of that one last cursory glance, bowing his head slightly while scratching at his neck. Itchy, itchy neck. He's already working out in his head what sorts of things to avoid in the inevitable spar for the sake of making sure a part of the building doesn't collapse upon them. It could be exaggeration on his part. But in his class, he strictly enforces work safety. He holds himself to the same rules as he did when these sorts of things were his job!
He keeps his trap shut for the most part while walking along towards the practice area at a leisurely pace behind Mizuki and Nataya, one of his knees creaking out of the blue for the sake of creaking and, ironically, putting a fine point on Nataya's worries about making sure it wouldn't worsen any injuries he has. He's moving so slowly given Nataya's comparatively brisk pace that she may have to grab him by the arm.
He hasn't seen Nataya battle in recent memory, but he has heard of her fourth place Neo League season finish. This means she's good. In fact, his face lights up a bit when she mentions that she 'almost had her.' Miss Kamigawa there must be really good too. Well, he was aware that she was active but he's begun to watch televised matches so infrequently he's forgotten a lot of the specifics. "She's that good?" He asks maybe a bit louder than he should for an aside! "Guess I'm in good hands, huh." He was thinking about switching physicians.
Now Mizuki -has- to blush. "I... ah. I can... but the process won't be anything like what you're used to..." Thinking quickly, she steps over to a storage closet, dragging out a folding chair. "I'm not sure what insight I could give you that your body isn't, though, Howard-san. I think that's something that is very important for anyone who does strenuous activity... knowing when to listen to your body and when to ignore it." The miko reaches up, scratching the back of her head. "I suppose... Nataya-san, I'm not really a... a qualified doctor or practitioner. I'm just a girl with a peculiar talent. If there's something wrong with him -now-, unless it's a recent injury, there probably isn't anything I can do... and he would know, better than I, if there's something physically wrong that keeps him from fighting effectively." Oh, and the question of her skill.
Fortunately, she's already blushed once, using up her quota for the moment. "I'm... I'm alright. Nataya-san is overstating the case somewhat. I had a bit of luck towards the end, too." She glances at Nataya and Rust both. "My suggestion would be... do what you can now. I'll certainly be here to help out in any way..."
Ever notice how everyone likes to downplay their skills? Nataya handwaves the whole matter. "You never know until you try," she says with a smile as she treads out into the middle of the sparring area, putting her hands on her hips and giving it a good look over. "But if you're not comfortable with doing anything now, at least give him a look over later."
She motions for Rust to approach her. "C'mon. Let's get you prepped up a little bit. Here's what we're going to do," she says, motioning to Mizuki. "We're going to start sparring. The second that Mr. Howard here looks like he's falling behind, I'd like you to pop in and give him a little pick-me-up, okay? Because nobody's going to learn anything if the fight only lasts a little while."
She then turns to Rust, scratching her nose. "So I don't want you holding back. If you think that beating me with a pipe is the best way to win, do it. Holding back for no other reason than to hold back is kid's stuff."
With that, she moves to the far end of the room. "I'm also going to give Mizuki a couple of seconds to brief you on how I fight!" She calls from her position. "That way you have a little bit of a leg up!" She hops in place, readying herself as the other corner does whatever it can to stack the odds against her. Either Nataya's crackers, or just willing to take a beating for the sake of Rusts's dream. Which really is kind of crackers too, when it comes down to it.
'Know when to listen to your body and when to ignore it.' Guess what one of his elbows are saying right now? Nothing, because elbows can't speak. But if they could, 'hey, jackass, stop, I'm tired, the overtime pay won't make up for the arthritis you're going to get when you're older!' Predictably, he didn't listen to the elbow. Nor any other part of his body, for that matter, the proof is in the everywhere, all the little cracks and creaks and snaps and crackles and pops of joints every so often. The teacher has kind of a nervous smile. A knowing, guilty
"Ah... yeah. Yeah. Picked that up a while back." When it was too late, yes. He relaxes the telling smile to something more appropriate to a guy that's getting his one last chance to get in shape for professional fighting. He rolls his right arm around a bit at the mention of recent injury... then it ends in a shrug, that doorframe from two days ago was far worse off. "I'm... I'm good." He stretches his arms back again for good measure. Pop! Pop crack pop. "Yeah. I'm good." He rolls his neck around once. This one goes popless. Thank goodness for all.
Time to go for the gold. Or go for the go for the gold, to be specific, which he gathers the moment she makes the motions, patting the top of Ol' Rusty, that pipe in the toolbelt, which he then pulls from underneath the belt. It goes surprisingly smoothly compared to earlier in the week when it seemed like it just didn't want to come out to fight Rick Strowd. The ease in which the drawing is accomplished goes understated.
'I don't want you holding back.' Marisol said the exact same thing, months ago. Everyone here wants go all out. He nods his head, one eye going shut as his free hand has to scratch at it for a moment as he ambles along almost aimlessly in a direction vaguely determined to be 'towards his place.' "I hear you." He clears his thraot because its volume gives out to the strain of having to yell much earlier in the day. "I hear you," he repeats a bit louder. The 'few seconds' Mizuki has to brief him is plenty enough time for her to speak before he can actually maneuver anywhere towards a range where he can strike.
Mizuki ponders that. How -does- Nataya fight? Dangerously. Well, powerfully. She nods to Nataya. "That shouldn't be a problem at all," she says, as the monk starts warming up. Just jump in and heal Rust occasionally. She can do that.
"Alright, Howard-san. Nataya is fast. She hits hard. You'll want to watch out for her beads... she can do some pretty powerful things with them. Other than that..." She pauses, then give Rust her best winning smile.
"Just do your best!" As requested, she'll heal Rust as often as necessary--but in order to do that... Mizuki steps to the edge of the practice mat... and she begins channeling her energies. It isn't obvious, as she's pulling at a slower pace, but the buildup is definitely there.
COMBATSYS: Mizuki has started a fight here.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Mizuki 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Mizuki gathers her will.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Mizuki 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Nataya has joined the fight here.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Mizuki 0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0 Nataya
COMBATSYS: Rust has joined the fight here.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Mizuki 0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0 Rust
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 0/-------/-------|
And Mizuki gives her briefing. Nataya in the meantime has fallen into the Muay Boran fighting posture, which looks suspiciously like Muay Thai. What doesn't look like Muay Thai, however, is the fact that the beads around her neck are crawling along her shoulders and arms like snakes to wrap around her arms and fists. They glow a dull silver in color.
"Since you got all the support in your corner, we'll even the odds a little bit," she says, shifting her weight to her front foot. She smiles, the row of white teeth almost doing a Kim style sparkle, which indicates JUSTICE or a sort of latent craziness that is socially acceptable only because her obsessive desires focus in on helping people rather than murdering small children and puppies.
Still, that's not to say that nataya's solustions to every problem aren't blunt, ham fisted or destructive. It's just easier to accept them when they come from a short girl instead of a crazy Korean guy that spends his time beating up giant fatties and midgets. Whatever the case may be, Nataya instantly bolts forward, her legs propelling her like a bullet train towards Rust as she whips forward.
She doesn't look like she has any intent on stopping. Instead, she seems to want to run /up/ Rust, and smash one of her knees into his face straight from the get go.
Total contrast to her sunny sweet personality. The move isn't a training move. It's a move designed to fell a small moose.
COMBATSYS: Rust endures Nataya's Heavy Kick.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Rust
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 0/-------/-------|
"Fast," he repeats. "Hits hard," he also repeats. "Beads." He nods his head yet again for the umpteenth time. "Got it." But does he really? Even without someone giving an overview of his fighting style it might be very easy to pick out any weaknesses one can see from the front. He's not fast on his feet! Most guys with some weight and bulk on them aren't. Ol' Rusty, held in his right hand, is pointed down and a bit away - clearly his weapon of choice and the thing to look out for most. Plus, all the signs that he lives with aches that are difficult to ignore. A good hit in the right places can be all that's needed to take him down... maybe?
He doesn't want to see himself in weaknesses any more. He's approaching. She's ready, waiting. He doesn't freak out at the moving beads or that silvery glow. Lots of people have those kinds of glows about them. What's more disarming is the sparkly smile! She's absolutely serious. His approach halts, his posture straightens up a bit, eyes narrowing slightly as a little bead of sweat already snakes its way past the combover where it escapes to asylum down his brow. He exhales sharply once. C'mon.
Nataya clears the distance for him, and she comes in swinging. He makes one mistake as he lowers his left arm a little, respective hand clenched in a fist, as he thinks she's going to strike low, go for that knee, well guess what--
Nope. His head arcs back slightly as the knee pops him in the nose, a small splash of blood flying out from the impact. Vicious. It would have fell a small moose without complication. An idle thought is processed quickly: 'that really wasn't so bad.'
He doesn't lose any footing or even arc his back all that much, not before he suddenly whips his head back forward far faster than anybody kicked in the face like that really should. Disappointingly short recoil, dangerously quick return. It could just be that he's riding on good vibes at finally taking that step forward. A step forward to a headbutt. There's not a lot to say about the headbutt. Maybe more about what's on the head than a headbutt, but a headbutt is a headbutt with only a token grunt to accompany it.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Nataya with Hardhat Rush.
- Power hit! -
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 0/-------/----===|
It would seem that Rust is on top of his game as well! Usually most people start defensively, but Rust's approach is to just take the damage that she's dishing out straight, which is an unusual one for her to deal with. As a result, she's unprepared for the short retaliation and is sent backward with one mighty crash of the helmet.
The wind is pounded out of her, and she falls down into a crouch, though she doesn't stay down for too long. The smile hasn't left her face yet, although her eyes are slightly more focused now. "And you were worried you couldn't compete!" She says, one hand over her bruised ribs.
But no time to nurse injuries yet! Already, the woman is on the move again, closing in rapidly to sling one leg up in a short snap kick. That's a feint, however, for the other looping kick her leg brings around. Trailing a short, sparkling trail, the rush of suddenly appearing silver smoke hides the fact that buried within are three wayward beads, looped together by a thin strand of energy.
If Nataya loops the strands around Rust, he'll be taken for a short, unpleasant ride as they wrap around a limb and she slams him into the ground with repeated roundhouse kick motions.
COMBATSYS: Rust blocks Nataya's Three Marks.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 0/-------/----===|
The head goes head to head against the one who, sometimes, seems to have their head screwed on more tightly. 'Hits hard,' Mizuki said, is that really as hard as she can hit? If so, maybe he's better off than he thinks he is indeed. "Yeah, uh... I still am," he replies with a sniffle as he raises his head up again, running his forearm across his nose to confirm that, yeah, he's bleeding there and it will probably hurt a lot more when he's not in a combat high!
Besides, he's not here for lucky flukes like he seems to get every now and then in fights against superior opponents and otherwise dangerous threats that try to say 'nah, you're not that bad off.' He doesn't want flukes. He wants hard proof. Hard proof that he can compete, exhaling again. Should've taken a deep breath before that, maybe. Can't lose his wind within the first few seconds. He's better than that.
Before he can put his nose rubbing forearm down, Nataya is back on the move. She's living up to fast! And that same forearm has to be his defensive savior as she goes for the snap kick. He leans into it with that forearm, turning a feint into a successful strike of its own as the other kick comes in and blindsides him with sparkly energy and wraps itself around him.
He only notices this as soon as she starts yanking at that same slightly bloodied (by himself) forearm, at which point he actively resists getting yanked around with those roundhouse kick motions. He crouches, he sways, he overall /exerts/ himself to stay on his feet, squinting nearly to the point of not being able to see at all, teeth clenched as they bite his cheek. His poor teeth, they will be sore in the morning. One supposes his cheek will be too.
The real loser of this exchange is that forearm, circulation getting constricted as it goes incredibly numb from the struggle, nearly to the point it loses color under the glow. He can't keep up the tug of war forever! The tingling of energy and numbness together is... not pleasant.
He has to make a bid to get her off somehow, and he's not going to outmuscle her strange grip. Ol' Rusty finally sees action! Strating from his low right, he swings it upwards to the left in an upward diagonal stoke to seek that solid hit that'd give him the edge to break free or otherwise not lose the battle to stay on his feet.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Nataya with Medium Strike.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 0/-------/--=====|
Looks like Nataya can't defend herself to save her life today. For some reason, strikes are circumventing her normally decent defenses! Nevertheless, it's clear that the hit, for whatever reason strikes clean. The crashing lead pipe lets out a ring as it hits her clean in the jaw. The young woman's head kicks back hard.
But that's part of the game, isn't it? Knocked back and away, she's forced to unleash the nasty stuff early to stay in the fight.
The beads wrapped around her arms glow brightly, and then sheem to shatter off her forearms amidst the smoke as she shakes her head to clear it of stars. Forming a series of concentric circles, the clouds start to funnel in as she rolls a tonge around her mouth to ensure that she's not missing any teeth. As it is, she narrowly avoided biting off her own tongue.
If that's not hard enough proof, than Nataya frankly couldn't tell what was and what wasn't. but the stakes have been raised now. The charging power in the bead formation hovering on front of her speaks, and the glowing bolt of energy issues forth like the shot from a cannon. The blasting power shoots towards Rust, and Nataya is off like a shot after it.
Her feet slam against the ground like a drum accompaniment, before she seems to dissolve into wisps of smoke. She's gone for a millisecond, only to reappear behind Rust. The attack, should it hit, is undeniably brutal. An elbow smashed into the middle of his back. A side kick to one set or ribs, then another. A knee to the msall of the back, followed up by two straight punches to the back of the head with crushing force.
COMBATSYS: Nataya successfully hits Rust with Six Seals EX.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/---====|=======\=------\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 1/-------/=======|
She could simply be playing to his strengths, for those that could have been readily apparent - or some that couldn't without actually fighting him. His upper body jerks forward upon the successful pipe strike as his left arm is freed. He tries to clench his fist a couple of times. Get some feeling back in there. Failing that, he waves it up and down, up and down with a grimace. Don't sleep on the job now, left arm. Especially not when... faced with...
He flinches at the shattering beads, which is more a precursor to what Nataya brings up to the plate for him to overcome next. It's really all he can see - what's right in front of him, what he may be able to do about it, that sort of thing. Tunnel vision. He can't get enough feeling in his poor unarmed arm to flex those muscles like he does when he feels seriously threatened. There's only one thing left for him to do.
He tries to take it head on.
The glowing bolt of energy rushes forward, so does he, bringing his right arm up, forearm horizontal to his chest, Ol' Rusty pointed outwards to the left as he puts on a sneer. C'mon, that kick wasn't that bad, how bad can this be. Oh, how bad can this be.
It takes sheer guts and determination to throw himself through the blasting power that blankets out all over him, delivering a nasty shock through his entire system that, notably, seems to culminate in something of an... odd... feeling of confusion, which happens right before he realizes that she is no longer on the other side of that. He doubles over. At least, within the amount of time doubling over can happen in a millisecond.
Every moment after that is filled with brutality. The elbow to his back pops him up with an unintelligible exclamation of pain. The side kick hits him on one side of his ribs, causing his stance to lower with a wheeze. He tries to turn his head around. The other set of ribs leans into the next one, bringing him over. The small of his back takes it like a man enough. The back of his head and his weight do not, the first punch forcing him to a kneel. The second lays him face-flat on the floor with an exaggerated cloud of dust surrounding the force of his faceplant.
"...Grrbglggh," is the only way to give any sort of written record of the series of pained groans that follows as he uses Ol' Rusty as support to pull himself up off the ground. That wasn't a soft exchange. That hurt more than that kick that supposedly didn't hurt in his own mind, wheezing for breath as blood drips out of his nose anew post-faceplant.
COMBATSYS: Rust takes no action.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/---====|=======\=------\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 1/-------/=======|
She said she wasn't a doctor. That is certainly true. But she's been healing people for a long time; she can see when someone's rather hurt. Of course that isn't really a -huge- skill--most times, injuries are obvious, after all--but knowing when someone is in fact injured as opposed to just hurting... or when they're hurting pretty badly...
Fortunately, she doesn't need to disrupt the flow of the fight in order to help Rust out. Mizuki clasps her hands together, concentrating her energy in them; the blue-green energy begins to build, pulsing as it fills her hands. The visual is different than when she uses this on herself--but that can be forgiven, can't it?
Once she's got enough power in her hands, she points at Rust, sending the blue-green energy into him. Its effects are more subtle--like being bathed in warm water that soothes the pains, knits damaged flesh back together. A miracle, but a quiet one. She doesn't flinch when he's hit; she's taken hits like that before. To give a little helping hand... it's the least she can do. But she hopes he won't come to rely on the healing. She doesn't interfere in official matches.
Mizuki's assist is probably just what Rust needed. Nataya, on the other hand, steps back. Though her combat style is best described as 'murderous' in the kindest terms available, there's a few things she won't do, and that's strike an opponent that's laying on the ground going 'Grrbglggh'. It's less than the concept of 'honor' and more like 'unecessary'. Once you've achieved semi-concious babbling, it's usually time to stop.
Nevertheless, she's seen what Mizuki's power can do, so she's not going to completely step out yet. Instead, Nataya takes the time to recuperate a little herself. Rusts's attacks are no joke either, and she's a little worried about her own defensive prowess to date. Those first hit sshould have been blocked a lot easier than they were. She shunts power from the whirling energies around her back within, bolstering her energy levels and vitality further for the second round.
COMBATSYS: Nataya gains composure.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: Mizuki successfully hits Rust with Iki no Mizu.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 0/-------/-======|
Would Nataya instead strike a man going 'hhhglbffl?' One day she may have to crest that difficult moral quandary. But enough about her. Right now, the older man is having plenty of challenges getting himself up, because one arm is still asleep, his back is full of pain and maybe even serious fractures that immediately trump any of the stuff that his joints pull when they go 'look, okay, we're done for the day, so are you, stop it, please stop it.' In fact, it's almost as though, for once, his knees are consoling him. Which would be weird. Let's move on.
The blue-green energy envelopes him. Every fighter deals with their chi differently. Some people... just take chi differently. A drop of blood from his nose runs down the warm watery chi as though it refuses to be a part of the miracle. His stomach inexplicably feels empty. He coughs twice while sucking in some more oxygen. He gets feeling back in his left arm. His back feels a bit better. His ribs, they feel more like they're in the correct place and not... divorced, from themselves. He leans straight up. Then he leans straight up a bit too far back. Oops! He grunts again and brings his now 'awake' left arm to massage his back, face contorted into an artful rendition of a teary eye, grinding teeth, and excessive sweat. He rose up too quick!! Ouch, ouch, ouch.
...It's a net gain of 'not ouch' over 'ouch,' though, as he finally pulls himself up on his feet and rolls his shoulder again, pivoting over to face Nataya while flashing a thumb up with his free hand in place of a thank you as he's still catching some of his breath. He forgets if the thumbs up gesture means anything unpleasant in Japanese culture. Too engrossed in not being hospitalized over a simple spar.
He blows some more air out as he takes Ol' Rusty in both hands, one on either end, and faces Nataya for a couple moments while she catches her own breath as he rolls his head around his neck and works out the excess moisture in either eye by batting his eyelashes a lot.. Time for round 2. Moments later, he adopts a crouch. No, it's more like he's... sitting on an invisible chair, somehow? Then, perhaps bizarrely, he shakes in place. Up and down. Like he's sitting in an invisible driver's seat in an active vehicle. Where is this going?
While maintaining this seated position, he suddenly glides forward with a fair bit of speed in a straight line towards Nataya, looking to push her along for a distance before suddenly flipping onto his back, scooping her up with his rigid feet to toss her upward like some kind of bulldozer.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Nataya with Bulldozer.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 1/------=/=======|
Nataya's not really that experienced as a tournament fighter. As a result, despite her own skill, she falls prey to very stupid mistakes sometimes which are borne totally on the back of the fact that she tends to stop and stare at every weird, unintelligible technique that she sees instead of doing stuff about them, such as 'block' or 'dodge'.
As a result? Nataya takes a short airborne trip after being slammed into. She does a neat tumble, and smashes back first onto the ground with an unsettling crunch and a sharp cry of 'Ack!'
Granted, it's not as severe as 'Grrbglggh', but it's getting there.
5rRolling back up to her feet, albeit a little less quickly than before, Nataya's beads do a maddening dance, as if to ask the woman why her opponent isn't on the ground, unmoving. The swirling gray mists roll around her feet, and she focuses her attention again. Mizuki's little light show seems to have given the man enough of a kickstart to enter battle yet again. Time to see if that's just a passing fad, or if it's here to stay.
Nataya thrusts her hand out, and three tiny pinpricks of light issue forth. The shining silvery beads trail smoke after them, growing in size until they're approximately the size of softballs. The triple swirling spheres shoot suddenly and swiftly to their target. Should they hit, they'll detonate in a burst of force and smoke, sending the older man sprawling.
COMBATSYS: Rust endures Nataya's Three Gems.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/----===|=======\===----\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 1/------=/=======|
Despite the time that elapses between bulldozing and another difficult approach choice to make, a new challenge arises for the older man's attempts to get himself back into a shape he could consider competition-worthy like he saw himself so many years ago - stiffness.
He could pride himself on being a hard son of a bitch to hurt significantly. It's harder to admire one's own ability to do this when you're in the middle of being hurt. The worst of it is, his body is aging. He's not yet forty, but he's worked his body to the point he could be seen as older than that. But what he did, that was an expression of that. And every time he does? His body soon doesn't feel like it wants to move. He's sprawled on the ground for longer than he should, outright swearing when he has to get into a battle of wills against himself and... technically, himself. Although sometimes the way it seems like his shoulders don't want to rotate, or that his knees don't want to bend, or that his very fingers just want to stay locked the way they are, in the end, it's himself. The capability of being damn near immovable despite not being a giant 7' slab of muscle works both ways for him.
He rolls back and forth on his back before finally getting to something that's like standing up when the swirling mists start around Nataya's hands. He lost any positioning advantage in the last successful strike. His eyes narrow again as the silvery beads fly off. What he wants to do requires that he move fast. He can't. His legs are locking up like mad, every attempt to flex them being met with sickening creaks of which could disrupt the focus of some. And really, the gems aren't going to wait for him, and he doesn't have time to go 'think think think c'mon move.'
He does roughly the same thing he did against other threats before, which begs the question... what's the point of throwing yourself so much into harm's way if, sometimes, there's a chance of not being able to give back in kind? Well, he's not asking that question right now. Let's go more to that 'roughly same thing.'
He throws his upper body weight forward, dragging his legs along. A split second before contact, he hurtles himself against all three balls by leading off the first foot that gives any indication of wanting to cooperate, which explode with concussive force. Smoke is everywhere. The three of them should completely halt his advance or even push him back, given now he's not on the ground to express the incredible traction he has shown.
He wins out in terms of momentum. In terms of pushing past pain... somewhat less so. The one that gets him in the shoulder, negligible to him. The two that smack him in the face, one right after the other, okay, that's a bitch. They're a bitch. Plurals. Feh. They give him a matching pair of black eyes as his body slides a bit across the ground, but now here's the one last problem - is that enough momentum to reach? If he had more time to build up some sort of speed before going for the leap of faith, that would be a resounding yes. Now it's more a question if he really truly and honestly can reach the sweet spot of his next blow.
It's nothing fancy to look at. Groaning loudly in a way that approaches a kiai, he forces his right shoulder to move with a loud snap, followed by his elbow as he clumsily swings outward in a simple low sweep. Most advancing sweeps tend to be kicks and try to go as far in as possible.
Howard Rust much prefers to try and reach as far as he needs to to connect with the tip against an enemy and no more. This bit of technique is... easy for the eye to overlook to the fact he's sprawled out on the ground, rigid, and seemingly flailing a single sweep somewhere against Nataya's thigh, somewhere around that level.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Nataya with Foundation Layer.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/----===|=======\====---\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 1/---====/=======|
COMBATSYS: Nataya has left the fight here.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/----===|=======\====---\1 Rust
The pipe cracks solidly into Nataya's leg. It's not really all that different than getting kicked there by a kickboxer. However, that doesn't mean it hurts less, or that it makes it easier to to deal with at all. The solid, dull thud cuases her knee to buckle for a moment, and she barely avoids getting sent to the ground.
Clearly, Rust's got a lot more fight in him than he lets on. However, Nataya's not about to let that go unanswered.. The monk girl is prettty relentless once combat starts, and she's not about to allow Rust to just work her over completely.
She steps back, and the clouds by her feet burst upward in a solid pillar, juggling the beads around her like so many bits of starlight. Through the chaos, the lights seem to merge, rolling into one massive ball of shining energy and clouds. The thing flares up, and suddenly all the clouds and light are concentrated in one massive medicine-ball sized sphere that goes rocketing downward. Like a small meteor wreathed in silver smoke and flames, the energy burst will be significant on collision as well as the sheer force of physical impact, and the ball will shatter into many smaller lights, all firing at Rust with multiple energy blasts. It's a pretty attack to watch. It's not that pretty to be caught up in it.
She's here to help them train. But Rust... Rust isn't doing too badly. They both -seem-, on first glance, to have taken about the same amount of damage. And although Nataya told her to heal Rust... She would feel remiss not addressing Nataya's injuries as well. Neither of them will be benefited by simply being thrashed by the other. Mizuki's role is clear, as is her action. This... it takes effort, of course, to heal one person. How much more two?
Her stance widens, her hands spreading wide; the blue-green energy gathers, soft and warm, in her hands. The power builds a little more, and a little more... a slow build up, to smooth the power gain. Finally, she's ready--opening her eyes, she breathes out, and pushes her hands, palms up, at the two warriors. The energy pulses out--
--Rust is familiar with its touch, but Nataya is probably not. It will be a subtle sort of healing, to restore their spirits, to soothe their aches...
COMBATSYS: Mizuki successfully hits Rust with Iki no Mizu.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/-----==|=======\====---\1 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Nataya successfully hits Rust with 37 Factors of Enlightenment.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/-----==|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 0/-------/-------|
It should be put on record that taking energy balls to either eye is not fun. Abused and irritated from violent, bright stimuli, he can barely see. He only knows he manages to hit something because of the feedback he can feel in his right arm that comes with Ol' Rusty managing to touch something that offers at least minimal resistance to its travel. Attempting to not squander the virtues of his chosen approach when it comes to sliding strikes, he brings his wielding arm back in, coughing once as he pulls himself to something of a stand.
It's kind of hard to make out through bruised, battered eyes but the flecks of light dance through what's going through the eyelids. The cloud and lights are so generalized, all-encompassing that it is impossible for him at this point to really gauge how far away she is, or what she's doing. Other than... making things shine. Shinier. Bigger. Or something, He brings up his left hand over his eyes to shield from the light and actually clarify what it is that he may inevitably attempt to ram himself through anyway.
Mizuki holds her promise to aid in the training. The calming, soothing waters collect around him to give him more strength to continue. His stomach rumbles loudly as a non-sequitur. Tension that he'd instinctively summon, that hardness that lets him (sometimes) survive what an ordinary man wouldn't, fails to come to being even as he clenches his grip on Ol' Rusty tighter with a squeal. From the pipe. Not himself. His vision slowly improves as the bruising fades, at which point he understands what's going on. He raises a single eyebrow. It was meant to be both eyes going wide, but one of them doesn't feel like giving a damn for the appropriate facial reaction.
It's escaping Nataya's grasp by the time he actually has it within him to do something, and he fails to have the reflexive fortitude to do much other than acknowledge that it's pretty. The misty silver ball rains down, striking him in the chest with such force that it doesn't shatter until he falls on his butt, sliding back until his body simply won't go through the floor, putting up enough resistance to count as 'contact' where it explodes into even more lights that gets him squeezing his eyes shut in a last bid to save himself from blindness, writhing as they pierce him like needles. Pretty, shiny, sparkly needles.
Several moments pass after the light show, the only indication being that it didn't knock him clean out is when he sits up with a crack from his back, rubbing the side of his head with his free head. For everywhere it hit physically, for some reason he just gets a really big headache.
COMBATSYS: Rust takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/-----==|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Mizuki successfully hits Nataya with Iki no Mizu.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/-----==|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 0/-------/-------|
If there's one thing that Nataya recognizes, it's the best parts of people. And one of those things is becoming readily clear: for all of Rusts' constant griping about physical ailments, and notwithstanding Mizuki's healing, he's one tough hombre. The man is taking hits that Nataya's used to fell much more experienced warriors than both Rust and herself. Despite that, the man is able to sit up.
Almost surprisingly, Nataya is hit with the Miko's beam and she's startled if only for a moment. She hadn't asked for the healing, so the result is while she does get some kind of releif from the pain that she's endured, she's not entirely sure what to do with it. The monk trained woman pauses, and then motions to Rust.
"Okay, fella! Let's see what you got. Go all out, and hit me with everything you got!" She says. She knows that somewhere in this man beats the heart of the champion he was always meant to be. Something about him is very... well, pure. The man may cloak every action, every word in excuses, delf deceit and uncertaintly, but Nataya feels that she knows the truth. Inside Rust Howard beats the heart of a man that should have been king of the ring, and while he may never reach that goal now, he can take some solstice in knowing that he didn't avoid every opportunity to have his day in the sun.
"C'mon! She says, her voice warm but firm. "Don't you dare disappoint yourself. I know you can do it. Don't make a liar out of me, Mr. Howard."
COMBATSYS: Nataya takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/-----==|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 0/-------/-------|
You know what's giving him that headache? Adrenaline. Pure, pounding adrenaline. Through the collective wounds that number so many incidental damages, most of them largely concussive in nature on top of the chronic aches he lives with... within the collective heap of pain, it's his head that wins out in the pain-o-meter. Every moment spent not throwing himself right up and starting to pound the crap out of anything shortens the lead the adrenaline headache has, inch by inch.
It harkens back to that question Nataya asked of him long ago. Well, not long ago. His consciousness swims in and out of the concept of time within the bubbly sea of adrenaline headaches, evidenced as he rolls his head around a couple times at an uneven speed while trying to stand back up. What'd she say? She said she'd help train him. She'd be his last chance to get back into real fighting shape. Yet the earlier advice - knowing when to listen to one's body to stop - comes into conflict. He knows exactly what happened when he didn't listen so long ago. He also now inwardly decides that the kick-that-didn't-hurt actually kind of did. A single drop of blood drops out of his nose again.
The rest of his body's pains start to approach even footing with the adrenaline headache. Well, what are you going to do? 'Go all out, and hit me with everything you got!' If he sits back down now, that adrenaline that's keeping him standing will go away and he'll be left with the aches of everything else... and shame. Just one more. C'mon. One more. She wants it, and you're still holding your bestest friend in the whole wide world.
A low, prolonged groan of annoyance - or a long drawn out sigh - escapes him at barely audible volume as he draws in another breath, absent-mindedly taking a couple steps forward. His left ankle creaks defiantly. Screw you, left ankle, you're just as bad as the traitor knees.
"Okay," he finally mouths out a real word and not some phonetic nonsense. Well guess what, you just said 'okay,' you have to do it, you're a man, it kind of sucks being a man sometimes, but you're a man and if you were a woman you'd be ashamed of a man like this, he works that much out as he rotates his right shoulder around once more. Pop! He grunts. That one stung.
He pulls back the same arm, and Ol' Rusty with him. His vision is still kind of blurry. But he can make out his training partner in front of him, a ways. Probably won't make much of a difference how far if he can go straight. If she'll stay straight. Which won't be a problem if he goes straight. C'mon. Do it before she's not straight.
One tiny pause later, he coughs once more for good measure as the length of pipe points outward. He leans forward. There's a little twinkle in his eye. Just a tiny one. The only precursor to whatever the hell it is he's going to do, but it becomes obvious once he suddenly rushes forward, thrusting Ol' Rusty forward as though it were not a long shaft, but a giant, large, heavy ball.
As if invoking the very spirit of a wrecking ball (do construction tools have souls to begin with?), he rushes forward with a single, powerful straight. He's the ball. The target is the building. All it takes is just one good hit, one he throws his all into.
It is just one big hit compared to the complexity and beauty of Nataya's trump card. But this one big hit is his.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Nataya with Condemned.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 0/-------/--=====|
Nataya's eyes don't twinkle, but she stands still, ready to defend herself from the incoming attack. Her legs brace, her body ready to react. Her hands raise as she controls her breathing... and then the swing.
It's a simple attack, and maybe not as sophisticated, but there's a reason why people don't affix disco balls the the end of wrecking equipment. There's sometimes no place for it. When you're looking to just cause straight up destruction, sometimes the only thing you need to do is just hit your target very, very, very hard. The pipe collides with the woman, crashing into her side. The sound of a shoulder dislocating as bone pops over bone fills the air and a nerveless arm dangles uselessly as Nataya slams to the ground on one knee.
Her eyes are closed, but her face's expression is still stuck in that quiet, enigmatic smile. A deep breath, and she looks up, brown eyes looking up to Rust as the pain forces tears. "That's the attack that the world's waiting for, Mr. Howard. That's the motion that /you/ were waiting for. When you take all your skill, all your power, and put it into that final moment when you know everythign you've ever tained for is coming out in one split second... that's the everything moment."
She rises up slowly, wincing, stepping back as she holds up the one working hand. "Did you feel it? I can't see how anyone could have missed it. That's happiness, Mr. Howard. When everything you've ever worked for is realized, if only for a moment. That's when you shine. That's the hand touching enlightenment. Embrace that feeling, and seek to satisfy your wants and needs so that you never need to seek them again. Want is suffering. That's life. But denial only prolongs suffering. Let's not be what others want us to be. Let's just be."
COMBATSYS: Nataya takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 0/-------/--=====|
He goes into, he goes through, he goes past... and he gets caught by the wall as the momentum dwindles, at which point the stated wall is like a big, plush, inviting catcher's mitt. Except it's not plush or really inviting. It remains big. The teacher slams himself into the wall with enough force that Ol' Rusty and his dominant arm put a small hole through it. At least it's a hole of the pipe's size and no bigger. The rest of him leaves a soft impression. He winces harshly. 'Harshly' being appropriate because he catches himself before making a swear, that moment of near-zen almost swept aside to the realization that he's doing damage to a building they're trying to fix!
'That's the attack the world's waiting for, Mr. Howard.' The grimace softens as he turns back and makes eye contact with the monk again. His fullest attention, save for the incidental efforts to pull Ol' Rusty and most of his right forearm out the wall. He's wedged the two of them into that wall so very well. Great. His face goes a bit sour as he tugs at it again.
'Did you feel it?' Feel what? How could anybody miss it, he thinks he just di-- 'That's happiness, Mr. Howard.' When everything he's ever worked for is realized, if only for a moment. That's when he shines. That's the hand touching enlightenment, she says. And this is the arm stuck in a wall. Which one does he care about more at this minute?
'Embrace that feeling, and seek to satisfy your wants and needs so that you never need to seek them again.' The tension... eventually... subsides, head lowering a bit as his freer shoulder shrugs. He breathes in deep, sniffles once for that bloody nose, lets his mouth hang open a bit with another nod. Yeah... there's something about those words he likes.
'Let's just be,' she says. "Yeah... let's... just be." Let's just be getting his arm and Ol' Rusty out of this damn wall!! He presses his lips together, squeezing his eyes shut again as he makes one, last, heroic burst of effort to yank his imprisoned arm out of the wall.
With a 'pop,' he yanks himself out of the wall hard enough that he falls flat onto his side with yet another wince, oooh, bad one, he doesn't think that rib fixed itself after she kicked it in earlier!
COMBATSYS: Rust takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Mizuki 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Rust
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ <
Nataya 0/-------/--=====|
Mizuki has no advice for Rust--that is, after all, Nataya's job now. And besides, it is frankly ridiculous for a young girl to be mentoring someone who is far above her in terms of age. She isn't even that good, truth be told; her skills are still developing, even more so than someone like Ryu, who claims that he is still training. It would be... presumptous. And Mizuki doesn't want to be that. So she watches the end of the fight. More holes in the walls... but she doesn't really care about those, she finds. They were come by honestly, through work. Not like the holes put in the building with hostile intent.
"That was a very interesting battle," she says, quietly, as she releases her temporary hold on the power she has been gathering. Nataya's proclamation... it's an interesting one. It matches some of the thinking that Mizuki has been doing, though she doesn't mention this aloud; this is, after all, Rust's time. That said, she moves over to Rust, with the first aid kit. She looks at him almost apologetically.
"I could heal you again, Howard-san, but I think it's often better to heal naturally, when you can afford the time. I hope you can forgive me." The words are for Nataya, too; she turns to look at the monk, giving her the same speech with just her eyes.
"Oh. And don't worry about the walls. We'll fix them. This place is... it has a lasting presence. It's alive; it breathes with us, it feeds on our energy. We give it life, everyone who comes here with the intent to learn, to develop, to grow. Mere holes cannot destroy this place."
The monk-trained woman nods, and gingerly grabs her shoulder. With a none-too-gentle motion, she pops the shoulder back in place with a single stroke and an almost palpable wince. The pain is enough to almost make her pass out. But that's the name of the game. She smiles faintly, stumbling over to a corner of the room where she plops down on her bottom, slumping. All this activity lately's starting to take it's toll!
"Don't worry about me," Nataya says. "I'm fine. I'll be fine for the next fight, and the ones afterward. All I'm worried about," she says to the both of them, "Is how you guys are holding up."
And it's true. Nataya, despite her fairly young age, seems very... content. There's not an iota of doubt, worry, or concern for herself present in her face of spirit. All she seems interested is how her acquaintences are doing. Why? Well, who can tell.
Maybe it's part of being a wandering monk girl?"
The world may never know. But the fact of the matter is this: Nataya's here to help. Whether you like it or not!
Howard Rust, or Rust Howard as he will undoubtedly be known in the continued befuddlement surrounding a highly Americanized part of Japan to the point that the correct listing of one's name is confusingly interchangeable that he has not yet caught on to in regards to his time with Nataya, continues to lay on his side, just like this huge run-on sentence. His left hand clutches the side where the shattered rib managed to escape the loving touch of watery chi. He's in pain. There isn't any real colorful descriptions to apply to many specific areas otherwise. Nataya does, in fact, hit hard. Mizuki wasn't fooling!
"Yeah, uh... I'm... I'm... ah... used. Used to it." More like 'used to ignoring that sprain to go to work the next day!' He raises his right hand - and Ol' Rusty - up because Ol' Rusty is infinitely better than an index finger for getting attention. "Said I'd... I'd pitch in, I'll get it. I'll... I'll get it." He coughs as he forces himself back up to a sitting position, neck inexplicably popping although he doesn't move it around much. He doesn't flinch at Nataya's means of popping her shoulder back, hell, back in the day that was almost an everyday happening.
The question comes in! How is he holding up? Well... aside from being in need of medical attention for some subtle internal injury here and there, the very first thing that comes to mind, often one of the first things that come to mind for just about anybody suffering from acute testosterone poisoning, comes with the definitive, all-encompassing statement indicative of one's well being in the great big picture of difficult questions, hard-fought answers, and welcome revelations.
"...I'm, uh... hungry." He hopes that Subway he saw along the way here is still open. The hospital can wait for a delicious sandwich. Always. Well. Almost always. In this instance, definitely.
Log created on 20:22:12 09/12/2008 by Nataya, and last modified on 00:49:29 09/15/2008.