Description: In the auditorium at Justice High, two fights who call Southtown home -- lacrosse captain Ichiro Oe and local chi-throwing lout Frei -- duel for the glory of Strolheim! One of them throws all he has into his attack and the other has a more roundabout approach, making for an epic clash not only of fists, but of philosophies. (Winner: Frei)
Ichiro does some laundry real quick.
It figures. Ichiro is all set to fight his way into his most prestigious tournament yet, the Student/Master Invitational which is being held at none other than Castle Strolheim, which is hallowed ground to the fighting community, or so the lacrosse player has gathered, and the first step of his grand journey has taken him to yet another rival highschool. And to make matters worse, this first fight is being held on stage at the Justice High Auditorium, bringing back painful memories of stage-fright during a rather scarring Second Grade production of Annie.
Stepping out from behind the curtains as he attempts to sigh his nerves away, Ichiro Oe taps his lacrosse stick against his shoulder absently as he tries not to look out upon the sea of people sitting in the audience. It's funny, the Captain of the Taiyo High Lacrosse Team doesn't have any problem at all playing in front of a fully packed stadium, or fighting in front of millions on television, but this stage makes him uneasy. "It's alright Oe. We got this," he tells himself as he snaps his helmet's chinstrap tight and adjusts his shoulder pads. "Once the fight starts everything else fades away." Steeling himself as he awaits his opponent, Ichiro let's his Game Face bloom on his visage.
Well, he'd talked about it with Kentou, and Frei had spent no more time than walking the rest of the way home with his groceries when he found word, left on his voice mail, about the time and place of his exhibition fight in the Strolheim tournament. Funny how things work out like that, isn't it? Justice High School had gladly volunteered their auditorium -- perhaps because Taiyo Dome was booked and it was the only other non-stadium place with sufficient seating -- and the match was set relatively soon. Much as his (and Hotaru's) student had recently done, it'd be time to show the tournament committee his stuff, against an opponent he knows nothing about.
Justice High itself takes Frei's breath away, and he's a little long getting to the auditorium because he's effectively wandering the halls like a tourist, observing the ritzy and high-class decor and gawking at the all-too-proper students wandering the halls. Frei, with his predominantly British-Irish features and casual clothing, is just too stark a contrast. Well, that and his typical big smile, too.
Finally, having asked for directions, he appears onstage from the opposite end as Ichiro, giving the Taiyo student a quick visual once over and waving with a cheerful expression. "Sorry! Have you been waiting long?" He looks out at the audience for a moment, then back at Ichiro with an (almost) embarassed expression. "You know, my friend Mizuki goes here but I've never been, myself... it's like a damn university." Rubbing the back of his head, he averts his eyes for a moment. "I know they wanted 'impressive' but I'd maybe say 'intimidating' instead..." Oh, if you knew Raizo Imawano, that sentence would make a lot more sense.
But then it's back to the lacrosse player, Frei's head tilting a little bit at the presence of the stick and the helmet. He knew that Ichiro was from Taiyo, and thus probably played some sort of sport, but this is still a little unexpected. "Welp," the young sage says, linking his fingers and stretching the arch of his arms over his head lazily, "I guess we just need to make it look good for the folks back in Strolheim, so don't hold back on me. I'm interested to see what you've done with your fighting style."
"Uh... No, not long," Ichiro responds as his game face softens a little as a small smile works it's way to his lips. "Ah, I know Mizuki. Kind of. I've fought her before at least... She's really hot! I mean... uh..." Coughing lightly, Ichiro pushes right now, attempting to ignore that last comment. "...yeah this place is alright I guess. My parent's wanted me to go here but, eh... long story. ANYWAY, like you said, we have a show to put on, it's Strolheim or BUST!"
Pulling a lacrosse ball from the pocket of his mesh shorts, Ichiro gives it a bounce on the wooden stages before catching it in the net of his lacrosse stick and gives it a twirl. "I wouldn't even know how to hold back mister!" Ichiro says with an eager grin, "Hope you're ready!" And with that much said, Ichiro whips the lacrosse ball forward, sending it flying at Frei's chest at a brisk clip.
COMBATSYS: Ichiro has started a fight here.
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Ichiro 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Frei has joined the fight here.
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Frei 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ichiro
COMBATSYS: Ichiro successfully hits Frei with Sudden Fling.
- Power hit! -
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Frei 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Ichiro
Oho! Ah, youth. Despite Frei looking more 19 than his actual 27, that expression definitely comes to his face as Ichiro babbles onward about things (especially Mizuki being hot). That sort of wistful expression that says someone is thinking of days gone by, or in Frei's case probably of episodes of a teen drama on the CW gone by because he wasn't really the social type as a teenager. REGARDLESS. "Well, that's a good attitude... maybe." The sage actually looks confused on that last bit, scratching his cheek with his finger. YES GUNG HO YAYE is okay and all, so long as it's moderated now and then. Does Ichiro moderate? What kind of sport is lacrosse, anyway? What's with the po--
*FTHUNK*
You thought too long about it, Frei! The ball fwaps into his chest, then rebounds up into his *face* somehow, causing the redhead to clutch his nose with both hands as the poor lacrosse ball meanders across the floor and rolls to a stop somewhere off the edge of the stage. "Ow! Wad ib id wid hid do bah node layley?" he sort-of-kinda says, muffled by his hands and distorted by him pinching the bridge of his nose a bit. On the other hand, the shot didn't exactly knock him over or anything. Still, that probably stung.
After a second Frei shakes his head a couple times, bringing his arms down to his sides. "Well, that's one way to do it," he admits, smiling. It IS a fight, after all. Getting pasted in the face is part of the deal. "I won't hold back either, then." Rather than use a projectile, the YFCC teacher looks to close the distance, moving as swiftly as he dares, and actually tries to get Ichiro's pole (shut up). If he can get a grip, Frei applies force to simply bear Ichiro into the ground... oh, and his hands crackle with purple-blue as he forces some electric chi into it to boot.
COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Ichiro with Medium Throw.
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Frei 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Ichiro
A flash of concern crosses Ichiro's face as Frei reacts to getting pasted with his lacrosse ball, "Oh, weren't you ready? I thought..." the captain begins to apologize, but it quickly fades as he's assured that the sage is about to follow in kind. "Ah, okay, well show me what you got then!" he adds just as Frei reaches for his... pole. "What the?!" he gasps as his pole is firmly grasped and the captain is whipped around and slammed into the ground amid violet energy.
"Oh crap..." Oe gasps as he thuds off of the floor and has the wind knocked out of him briefly. "That... hnng.... hurt..." he admits as he pulls himself to his feet. "It looks like I have my work cut out for me..." Well, the tournament IS called the Student/Master Invitational, and Ichiro has ne allusions as to where he falls in that description. Could his opponent be the other side of the equation? Spinning his crosse in his hands briefly, Ichiro closes his eyes and attempts to focus and center himself in order to try and get himself into "The Zone" that all athletes are familiar with, where muscle memory takes over and your thoughts take a back seat to your skill and training.
COMBATSYS: Ichiro gathers his will.
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Frei 0/-------/-----==|======-\-------\0 Ichiro
Stepping back a little, Frei gives a dismissive little wave at Ichiro's concern for him not being ready. "No, no, you didn't do anything wrong. I should have been paying better attention," he admits. Well, if he's on the 'teacher' side of the equation then he's fairly humble about it, all things considered. His nose is a little red from where he got beaned with the lacrosse ball, of course, but he doesn't look too abused for the moment. "I'll say this much, kids from Taiyo have really inventive fighting styles." For a second the sage's thoughts drift to Roberto, Iincyo, and others he's met from that school. He gives Ichiro a genuine smile, closing his eyes for a moment as he does so. "It takes dedication to turn something you love into a fighting art, after all."
Hmmm. Ichiro might not be using chi overtly, but his shift into a 'psyched up' sort of stance DOES resonate a bit... a clear difference between, say, simply watching for an opening and really summoning up everything he's got. "I'm a bit envious; you're making me feel like an old man, and I'm not *that* old," Frei adds with a laugh. One hand drops to his side, and begins humming with a dull gold-silver metallic glow. More of a test than anything else, the YFCC instructor takes a few steps toward Ichiro and then swings his hand up, fingers extended like a knife hand, in a rising parabolic arc, both the strike and a glittering line of metal chi following in its path looking to put the hurting on the lacrosse captain; if the attack strikes, it actually makes a noise like the ringing of a tuning fork.
COMBATSYS: Ichiro fails to interrupt Houken from Frei with Cross Check EX.
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Frei 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Ichiro
Smirking confidently as Frei comments on Taiyo High, Ichiro slashes at the air with his lacrosse stick a few times before raising it in a salute. "Ah, it's not so bad if you truly love what you do. Though, some things lend themselves better to fighting than others," Combat Journalism comes to mind. "I mean, I've probably put in way more hours practicing at my sport than some fighters do sparing, you know what I mean?" he asks as Frei mentions feeling like a geezer.
"Don't worry sir, I don't think you're TOO old," he replies as Frei steps toward him, swinging his hand in an arc. Grabbing his crosse at both ends, Ichiro quickly raises the metal-hafted pole with intent to interject Frei's attack violently, but apparently his youthful speed is no match for Frei's experience as the knife-edge chop rings out against his chest loudly, sending Ichiro stumbling backwards a few steps and forcing him to use his crosse as a makeshift-crutch for a few moments. "Gnnn... especially when you move like that. It looks like there's a lot a kid like me could learn from a guy like you..." he adds with a slight grimace.
For a second or two, Frei actually looks like a real martial artist rather than some guy with glowy hands, stepping back from his strike into a neutral pose, hand still flickering with that metallic sheen for a second before it fades. Compared to the more ebullient smile which is his typical expression, he gives Ichiro a faint grin, perhaps even wry... after all, he DID just get called old. "You say that," he says evenly, "like you think the opposite isn't true." Frei himself knows that to be totally false. After all, his sorta-kinda-student Kentou Ondori -- who is in this very tournament, in fact -- has taught Frei much, all things considered. Perhaps not only about fighting, but... for him, he believes what he says. "I'm not so old I can't be taught a thing or two."
The young sage decides not to attack; he hit Ichiro pretty hard, and 'exhibition' means getting to show what both fighters can do. Instead he just stands his ground, patiently waiting. "And I'm *definitely* not so old I merit a 'sir' yet... Frei is fine." How long did it take him to break his other, younger friends of that habit? Hell, the aforementioned Mizuki still insists on 'Frei-san', to the extent that he's given up trying to change *that*. "Come on. Show me some of that Taiyo spirit! I'm sure Hayato-sensei is watching this, after all." OH yes, Frei knows Hayato, yes he does.
COMBATSYS: Frei takes no action.
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Frei 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Ichiro
Him teach Frei something? This comment causes a perplexed look to flash across Ichiro's face. The young athlete hadn't really ever considered that he'd be able to teach other fighters a thing or two during a fight. After all, Ichiro is relatively new to the fighting world and it's not like his fighting style is very much like... well, anyone else's. Perhaps Frei was referring to some other sort of lesson that doesn't involve technique. Something philosophical or metaphysical or whatever. Shrugging off this line of thought, Ichiro tries to focus once more at the exhibition at hand. Deep thinking wasn't really ever Ichiro's strong suit. No, decisive action has always suited him just fine.
Speaking of action, it looks Frei is waiting to come get some! "Okay then Frei-san! You don't have to ask me twice! I've got Burning Spirit to spare!" Pulling another hard rubber lacrosse ball from his pocket, Ichiro tosses the ball out in front of him a few feet, his eyes locked on the object as time seems to slow down to a crawl for him. He's in the zone. A bead of sweat works its way to his temple as he focuses the burning physical manifestation of his spirit on the rubber ball; a slight smirk rising to his lips as it suddenly erupts with golden energy and time resumes its course. "HAYATO-SENSEI!" is his battle cry as he lurches forward and scoops the blazing ball up in the pocket of his crosse and rushes towards Frei, lashing out with his stick as he passes by the man's side and sending the ball rocketing towards the sage's midsection from a few feet away.
COMBATSYS: Ichiro successfully hits Frei with Break Shot EX.
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Frei 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Ichiro
Oh, Frei, you moron. Don't try to *catch* things the boy throws at you. He is much better with balls than you are, and that is a fact. Of course, common sense has never stopped Frei before; why the hell should it now? The chi -- 'burning spirit', perhaps? -- does make him blink once in surprise, but it's a pleasant surprise at least. He brings up one hand, fingers flexing, and a silvery aura flickers into being. After all, you can't just reach out and grab a chi-infused projectile object without some sort of equal protection, right? But the ball is travelling considerably faster than he had anticipated it would be, and it's actually sort of painful to watch as his attempt to catch the stupid thing is far, far too slow. An uncharitable type might say that he spent too much time indoors studying and not enough outside playing ball. In fact, Frei mutters, "Spent too much time studying and not enough playing ball." Of course, what he was studying was swordplay, so this is not quite as dorky as it sounds.
Shaking out his hand -- which stings quite a bit, actually, thanks -- the young sage takes a deep breath, then grins a little bit. "I'm surprised. You show up with the big stick, but so far it's all balls... and wow, I cannot believe those words just came out of my mouth." Setting himself in a defensive position, Frei takes a deep breath and concentrates, much as Ichiro did before... and the wind in the auditorium picks up. Which is to say there's wind, period; the air resonating with Frei's chi as he centers himself. "Feel free to tell me what the damn thing is called while you're trying to smack me one with it."
COMBATSYS: Frei gathers his will.
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Frei 1/------=/=======|=====--\-------\0 Ichiro
Snickering softly as Frei goes on about balls and sticks, Ichiro is certainly not above such humor, being a high school student and all, but it's safe to say that he's heard those sort of jokes more than a few times as he walks through the halls of school with his equipment. His sneakers squeaking on the hardwood as he skids to a stop on the other side of Frei and turns around to respond. "Oh this?" he asks as he scoops up the slightly smoldering lacrosse ball in the net of his stick and uses it to dribble the ball off of the floor a few times. "This is a crosse, which most people know as a lacrosse stick. It's an Attackman's stick, so it's a shorter than one that a Defenseman uses..." Ichiro clears his throat pointedly after saying this. Yeah yeah, keep your comments to yourself. "...anyway, the reason it's shorter is for better stick handling... ...you know what, I'll just let it speak for itself," Ichiro mutters with a slight blush. Darn you Frei for creating all of this sexual subtext! Tossing the lacrosse ball into the air languidly, Ichiro catches the projectile again and waits to see what his opponent has in store for him next. And why did it get so breezy in here all of the sudden? Did someone leave a door open?
COMBATSYS: Ichiro focuses on his next action.
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Frei 1/------=/=======|=====--\-------\0 Ichiro
It might surprise Ichiro to find that Frei is actually listening to all that with... reasonably interested attention. He even nods a couple times as Ichiro ticks off points, one hand coming up to his chin in a thoughtful gesture. So, that's the ins and outs of lacrosse equipment, huh? There's a pause, and then Frei giggles a little, unable to help himself. "So I guess in French that would be... 'la crosse', right? Ahahahaa. Ahem." Even he seems to know that joke kinda sucked, but hey, he's not here to deliver a monologue, he's here to fight! "Anyhow, you probably won't believe me when I tell you the 10-year-old's ball and stick humor was actually on accident, but it was. Of course, depending on who else is participating in this tournament, you might hear a lot worse than that..." Frei certainly has. A very private part of him is going to blast someone right in the face the next time he gets called a 'fruit' in an SNF.
"See, though, I wouldn't ever have considered the benefits of an attacker's crosse over a defender's in terms of actual *combat*. So like I said, you DO have things you could teach me." However, Frei's got things he can teach Ichiro, too... and the young sage is well supplied with projectile attacks of his own. They may not involve lacrosse balls, but they do alright. "So, let's try... this," he says, and brings up his hand. The gesture is casual, almost lazy; a wave of the wrist, the hand sheathed in white-blue. That's the only warning Ichiro gets that there's a cold front coming, though, before the air around him suddenly flash-freezes, looking to pound the lacrosse captain with stinging shards of ice from all directions.
COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Ichiro with Hatsuyuki.
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Frei 1/----===/=======|=======\=------\1 Ichiro
"Yeah, well... I suppose some people need to put others down because they aren't really confident in themselves. At least, that's what they say, right?" he says in response to the part about people saying worse things than that. Ichiro wouldn't really know that much about that sort of thing though, if there's one thing he doesn't lack, it's self confidence. And good looks. And money. And physical skills. And a winning personality. And a tight, muscular body. But mostly self confidence...
Where were we? Oh right. A thoughtful look crosses Ichiro's face as Frei comment's on the differences in lacrosse sticks in combat. "You know, I've never really considered using a defenseman's crosse in fighting. I'm actually a Midfielder when I play, which means I can both attack and defend, but I usually use a short crosse to take advantage of my scoring skills. I figured that an attackman's crosse would work better in combat because I'm pretty offensively minded by nature, but maybe I'll try a defenseman's stick sometime. That'd be interesting!" Ichiro replies with a smile. Maybe he could even work out some sort of stick that could extend when he wanted to be more defensive-minded... But then again he'd have to focus on fighting with two different styles then. Maybe he should just focus on the one for now...
Something interesting happens as the word 'interesting' escapes his mouth, drawing Ichiro's attention to the space right in front of his face and making him go cross-eyed for a moment. "Huh?" the teen inquires as he watches the puff of misty breath escape from his mouth, a result of the sudden drop in temperature. "Oh cra-!" Ichiro exclaims as he suddenly dives off to the side, hoping to roll on one shoulder and get away from whatever nastiness Frei has in store for him. Unfortunately he wasn't able to dive fast or far enough, and the ice shards shred into him mid-dive and send him flopping to the ground painfully.
"Nnnnh.... Dang... you're really powerful. That must be really cool, being able to use energy like that," Ichiro adds as he pulls himself to his feet and dusts himself off, wincing painfully as he feels every muscle complaining about their work. "I mean, I can use it too obviously, but... it's just kind of something I do naturally when I really focus on trying to score a goal. We tend to go through a lot of nets at practice," he admits with a frown. "I'm starting to get better at using it, but it still takes a lot of concentration, you know?" Ichiro asks rhetorically. "I couldn't ever do those things that you do though. Ice and all that. I'm not even sure how that's possible." Tugging on his shoulder pads, Ichiro seems to be regaining his breath and composure as he speaks, but he still seems pretty battered and bruised. He's going to feel good in the morning.
COMBATSYS: Ichiro gains composure.
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Frei 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\1 Ichiro
Being called 'really powerful' makes Frei visibly uncomfortable; he's always been legendarily bad at receiving praise, and this is no exception. It thus makes perfect sense that the first words out of his mouth are declaiming rather than accepting, or at the very least, attempting to deflect a bit of what he feels is an undue compliment. "I've... uh." He suddenly stops, thinking back to his fight with Chun-Li. 'I'd also say that you probably got this far because you wanted to,' she had said to him. 'Because you had the drive to.' "We're probably not so different in that respect. I worked hard to get where I am now, and I still have a ways to go until I'll feel satisfied. But you're an athlete, so actually I'd say you probably understand that pretty well." He smiles briefly, bringing a finger up and scratching his cheek. "That's probably true regardless of your fighting style. If you work at it, you improve."
That Ichiro doesn't seem to have a lot of control over his chi doesn't surprise Frei too much; many of the younger fighters he's met in Southtown seem to use energy as an instinctive thing, something that resonates with their emotional state rather than his perhaps more conscious and nuanced way of going about it. Still, the difference between hard rock and jazz fusion is mostly a matter of taste, right? "Well, maybe not *now*, no," Frei admits. That much is probably true; it's not entirely likely that Ichiro is going to go from 'instinct' to 'fine control' in a day. "But you're young yet, you're still learning. Besides..." And here, he gets an almost sly look... and he for sure hopes that if the person in question ever sees this, he'll realize Frei is only kidding. "...if Kentou can take my half-crazy ramblings on the subject and make them work somehow, anybody could. Plus, look at it this way: if you REALLY want to feel good about yourself, hand me that stick and I'll try and sling a lacrosse ball around." The point, obviously, is that a quadraplegic would lacrosse rings around Frei, who shows no aptitude for any field sport except badminton, which probably isn't going to be producing any talented fighters soon.
Well, the kid has left himself open a little bit, and Frei decides to take the initiative. Ducking forward a few steps, he moves toward Ichiro at an erratic pace, then stops and takes a quick hop, barely enough to clear the lacrosse captain's shoulders... but as he comes back down he twists his body, looking to slam one kicking leg -- which suddenly blooms with crimson flame -- right into Ichiro's shoulder and bat him into the ground.
COMBATSYS: Ichiro endures Frei's Light Kick.
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Frei 1/---====/=======|=======\==-----\1 Ichiro
"Yeah, I guess you're right. We're just all trying to be the best we can be. I mean, that's the point, isn't it?" Ichiro leaves the rhetorical question hanging for a moment as Frei charges at him again, this time trying to slam him into the ground with his foot of flame. Ichiro can tell that he can't take much more abuse, that's for sure, but he isn't about to go down without a fight. Lunging straight at Frei as he descends, Ichiro lets the fiery kick strike him square on the shoulder, but he manages to keep from collapsing on the ground in a heap just yet, instead the athlete falls to one knee. "Did I forget to mention that crosses are used to slash with too?" he asks with a pained grin as he swipes forward with his lacrosse stick and attempts to bash the metal haft against Frei's other leg as he attempts to touch down on the ground after the attack.
COMBATSYS: Frei just-defends Ichiro's Slashing EX!
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Frei 1/---====/=======|=======\===----\1 Ichiro
To look at him, particularly with an eye to physique, there really doesn't appear to be much TO Frei. More than one person has wondered how someone like him, who doesn't appear particularly muscled (though he is fit) or agile or tough can actually be a fighter at all, let alone one with so much experience under his belt that's thrived, over the past two years plus.
And then occasionally he does something that explains why.
That aerial kick is a little flashy for Frei, and it does leave him unsettled especially given Ichiro's unexpected decision to waltz right into it. He's got the option of pulling his kicking leg down and *probably* taking the hit or pulling the other leg up and trying his damndest to avoid getting hit altogether. In the end, he decides on option 3 and does a little of both. He keeps his kicking leg high and reaches downward as he hops up on his stable leg, brushing his hand across the slashing crosse just enough to keep it in place for him to... well, land on it. The end result has Frei literally standing on the crosse one-legged, a bit like a posing crane, before he leaps backwards away from Ichiro and lands on his own two feet, circling his hands around each other slowly in a tai chi-style hand push, eyes closed, exhaling.
When he opens them again, he gives Ichiro a smile, apparently having moved back into 'pleasant guy' mode from 'ninja defense' mode. "I was wondering if you used it for that, too, but I guess I found out!" he adds. Putting a finger to the tip of his nose, he looks away for a moment, before turning his green-eyed gaze back to Ichiro for a minute. "You've actually turned that into a very versatile weapon," he says at last. "You can fire off those shots -- which hurt like hell, by the way -- and attack with the stick, plus I bet it comes in handy on defense, too... that's pretty impressive, overall."
But this is an exhibition, after all, and Frei does have to make a showing too. Taking a deep breath, he gets into a more offensive posture, his hands suddenly bubbling with auras of purple-black chi, like moving shadow, cold to the touch. "Ready?" And then he drives forward with a single strike to the stomach. If he can get that hit in, the young sage follows it up with a series of hand strikes and kicks, flowing from one to the next, each imbued with that cold black energy.
COMBATSYS: Ichiro blocks Frei's Ashura Ressenjin EX.
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Frei 0/-------/----===|=======\====---\1 Ichiro
An athlete must always have faith in his protective gear if he wants to succeed. That's one of the first lessons you learn in youth sports. It is also a lesson that's flooding back to young Mr. Oe in full force as Frei goes on full offensive, unleashing a brutal combo of strikes brimming with eerie black chi. Gritting his teeth as the punches and kicks fly towards him, the lacrosse player begins to spin his crosse, deflecting the strikes with the weapon as it blurs in Ichiro's skilled hands. Most of the attacks that manage to slip through Ichiro's defense fall on Oe's helmet and shoulder pads. Trust in your equipment kids.
Once the barrage dies down Ichiro stumbles backwards a few steps dizzily. "Yeah, it can come in handy on defense," he says with a weary grin. "Thanks for the fight Mr. Frei. I don't got much left to give, but I always give everything I got. The final buzzer hasn't sounded yet!"
"This is something I've been working on. Let me know what you think..." Flipping the lacrosse ball out of the pocket of his stick, Ichiro raises a hand to his temple and squints with fierce concentration as the ball hovers in front of his face for a few seconds. Suddenly, the ball erupts with blazing golden energy and begins to rise into the air under it's own power. "GYAAAA!" Ichiro cries out as he falls to his knees, the ball hovering about 10 feet in the air for a moment before ten or twelve copies of itself made of pure energy streak out of the lacrosse ball and fly at Frei with parabolic trajectories, coming at him from multiple angles. No matter the outcome of the attack, the original, physical lacrosse ball falls to the ground next to Ichiro, lifeless once more.
COMBATSYS: Frei slows Lacrosse Plus from Ichiro with Seiya.
Glancing Hit
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Frei 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Ichiro
Now that's interesting.
Intrigued, Frei takes an actual scholarly interest in what Ichiro is doing, breaking it all down in his head as he watches the entire affair unfold before him. "You've got a future in sportscasting if fighting doesn't work out, at least," the chi sage teases, not taking his eyes off the literal or proverbial ball, even as it begins to glow. "And honestly, just 'Frei' is fine." Damn polite Japanese kids! (PROTIP: FREI YOU ARE JAPANESE, TOO)
Ichiro may get the satisfaction of seeing Frei's green eyes open wide and both eyebrows go up in surprise. He's using the ball as a focus, spiritually and mentally. Or at least, that's Frei's perception. He understands how a ball moves through the air, and it's sort of like a 'totem' of sorts. Holding his hands out in front of him, palms inward, Frei gathers a few shining spheres of his own, points of pure white light that are a stark contrast to the dark black he just used. "Interesting!" he calls out, just before Ichiro unleashes the chi salvo at him.
The white spheres in Frei's hands dance around him a bit and then lance out. What results is a sort of missile dogfight; phantom lacrosse balls meet spheres of light and cancel each other out, the two swarms of energy shots creating whirling patterns around both fighters. A good chunk of Ichiro's salvo is negated, but he put far more effort into it than Frei did; a handful of the spheres still make it through, pelting him in the torso and making him stumble back a couple steps.
Shaking his head, Frei grins and shakes out his hands as well. "That was really unique... I like it. What a fun way of doing that!" He seems genuinely impressed, if nothing else.
Pushing himself up to his feet shakily, Ichiro bows slightly, probably because he'd fall over if he tried bowing any lower. "Thanks!" Ichiro replies happily, "That just... takes a lot out of me," Oe adds and as if on cue, a thick gout of blood begins to leak out of the kid's nose, drenching the front of his mesh jersey, but luckily the bleeding only lasts for a few seconds and stops as quickly as it started. "Nnnhh..." Wiping the blood off of his face, Ichiro seems to pull himself together, straightening up and gripping his crosse tightly with both gloved hands. "I think we've given House Strolheim the show that they were looking for, don't you think? Something tells me that they won't be happy until there's a clear victor, though." That fact that Ichiro implies that there isn't a clear winner yet hopefully speaks to his unending drive and determination. Frei is hardly scratched, after all. "So let's finish this," Ichiro says with a bloody grin. Bursting into motion must faster than his battered state would suggest he be capable of, Ichiro rushes straight toward Frei, raising his stick over one shoulder as if to strike the sage up high, only to swing the crosse over his head and looping it down towards the back of Frei's leg, attempting to catch his knee, upend him and slam him to the ground.
COMBATSYS: Frei fails to interrupt Tripping EX from Ichiro with Reiki.
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Frei 0/-------/--=====|===----\-------\0 Ichiro
Tricksy! The stick-wielding hobbit is tricksy, yessssss. The YFCC instructor seems a little disconcerted at the bloody nose; it's like a hentai anime moment gone horribly, horribly wrong. Both eyebrows go up, green eyes wide, but before he can get in a word edgewise Ichiro appears to be... more or less okay, it seems? Still, the entire thing gets a concerned look from Frei, who notes indeed that Ichiro was channeling an awful lot of chi in that attack... more than any he's displayed in the fight so far. "Cannibalizing...?" he says, putting a hand to his chin in thought, muttering mostly to himself, before shaking his head and getting ready to defend himself again. When next he speaks, it's a little more clearly to Ichiro and, perhaps surprisingly, somewhat parental in tone. "Sometimes it's better not to push yourself too hard," he chides, smiling a little bit. "GUTS!" he suddenly exclaims, forcefully, before his voice returns to a normal tone, "...are fine sometimes, but often it's beneficial to take your time, too."
But there's no more time for didactic commentary, because Ichiro is going the route of GUTS!(tm) and taking the fight to his opponent again. A tiny part of the young sage's mind tells him that it might be better to end this fight... especially if pushing himself too much harder is going to get Ichiro to injure himself, maybe without even thinking about it. Resolving to apologize afterwards, he steps forward *toward* the seeming downward strike, a hand glowing fire red held toward the floor. He'd intended to sweep it upwards in a sharp, rising burst of energy to cut Ichiro off... but he wasn't expecting the sudden reverse of direction, and the blow to the back of his legs sends all his weight forward, landing the redhead on his backside on the auditorium floor shortly before he tumbles backwards, head thumping into the stage with a dull *WHUMP*.
Getting back up, Frei rubs the back of his head, either in embarassment or because he just cracked it on the wood. "I guess I deserved that..."
"...better not to push yourself... too hard?" Ichiro repeats as he slows his trot on the other side of Frei, his tone thick and puzzled as if he is repeating something in a strange language that he doesn't fully comprehend. "But if you're not giving everything you've got then you're just holding yourself back!" the kid exclaims with a winning smile as he turns to watch Frei getting back to his feet. "You seem like a pretty smart guy Mr. Frei, but you have some funny ideas." Bouncing the crosse off of his shoulder a few times as he regards the sage, Ichiro manages to looked fairly relaxed and confident aside from a few wracking coughs that spread small flecks of blood over his lips. "But I guess when you are as powerful as you are you can maybe afford to hold back a little," he adds as he watches the older guy, wondering what sort of painful energy Frei has in store for him next.
COMBATSYS: Ichiro focuses on his next action.
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Frei 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Ichiro
Powerful? It might surprise Ichiro to find his opponent looking confused at that particular way of speaking about him, and indeed as is true to form Frei shakes his head. Labels like 'powerful' have always made him uncomfortable and he resists them at every opportunity; not because they may or may not be true, but because they are often judgments he finds people making in haste. He doesn't quite look at Ichiro as he responds, running a hand across the side of his head and brushing red hair out of the way. "The only difference between us is experience, I think," he says, deciding to focus on the facts of the situation as he sees them. When he turns back to Ichiro it's with a somewhat gentle expression on his face, not one particularly noted for its fearsome tactical use in a fight. "That's all. I haven't done anything with my life that a similarly motivated person couldn't have done given the right time and opportunities." Now that might not be true, but Frei certainly seems to believe it.
Funny ideas, though? That makes him laugh. Grinning, the young chi sage gets into a defensive posture, hands moving slowly into position in the complicated patterns common to tai chi exercises. "I've been accused of worse than funny ideas. But I'm not holding back. Wouldn't that be insulting?" He doesn't attack, not yet; he simply takes his time and thinks things through. "I've given 100% since I came in the door. But... I've done it my way, which maybe isn't the same as the gung ho attitude you have, that's all. I hope I haven't offended you by it, but..." And here, he shrugs, smiling. "It's important for me to do things my own style."
COMBATSYS: Frei gathers his will.
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Frei 1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Ichiro
A wide grin spreads across Ichiro's face as Frei speaks, revealing once perfect white teeth, now stained by blood. "Nah, there's no offense taken Mr. Frei. I guess I just have a lot to learn about different methods of fighting. Anyway, I think we should get back to the action... I'm not sure how much longer I can keep standing," Ichiro says with a weak chuckle, only half-joking. Closing his eyes for a moment to gather himself, Ichiro's exhausted swaying seems to steady considerably before he springs in to action yet again, making a beeline for Frei and attempting to knee Frei straight in the gut as he passes by. It's not a very pretty technique, but it's worked pretty well in the past.
COMBATSYS: Frei endures Ichiro's Light Kick!!
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Frei 1/------=/=======|===----\-------\0 Ichiro
The kick does indeed smack Frei right in the stomach. Perhaps against all logic, however, it utterly fails to knock him over, send him stumbling backwards, or indeed cause him to so much as notice... at least, outwardly speaking. In his mind, the best way to make the virtues of patience apparent is to take a deep breath and use it to his advantage. He could have just rushed Ichiro, guns blazing, true... but somehow this felt a little more Frei-like to him.
Even as the lacrosse star is charging him, Frei holds one hand down and to the side, practically behind his back; in his open, cupped palm, seven swirling orbs of pure white light form, spinning in a tight but erratic pattern in his grip even as he steadies himself for what's to come. "Alright, then," is all he says. This is going to take focus, for sure... and when that knee slams into his stomach, it does indeed take ALL of Frei's focus not to lose all his concentration and go skidding across the stage. That *stung*, for sure. But it also puts Ichiro in very close quarters, with likely little chance to notice goings on around him. The seven spheres fly from Frei's hand, sinking into the floor beneath both fighters, little pools of white light forming as they do so.
Head bowed, still locked in close quarters with Ichiro, Frei murmurs "O seven holy stars..." before suddenly looking up and *shoving* off of Ichiro, sending himself backwards in a sort of backstepping hop even as he sweeps his other arm up, hand clenching into a fist, the 'invocation' completed: "Give me strength!"
On cue, the pools of light erupt skywards in a line of pillars of pure light, seeking to put a very shiny hurting on Ichiro if he doesn't find some way out of their path quickly.
COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Ichiro with Hokuto Rekkoudan.
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Frei 0/-------/------=|=======\=------\1 Ichiro
A small smile working to his lips as his knee crushes into Frei's gut solidly, Ichiro isn't given very much time to celebrate this minor success as the chi master doesn't really seem as ...affected by the attack as he should be. His eyes widening slightly as Frei calls out to the ancient spirits of evil, or whatever they are, the lacrosse star can't help but feel that he's been set up. Stumbling backwards a step or two as Frei shoves himself away, Oe glances around the stage as he tries to anticipate what's to come. Unfortunately for the Taiyo High student, he doesn't have to wait long for the answer as the pillars of light begin to erupt from the floor. Hey, it's only light, that can't hurt much, can it?
Yeah, it can. It can hurt quite a bit. Crying out in agony and clutching out towards the sky as the light tears through his body, Ichiro remains standing for a few moments after the attack fades before dropping down to his hands and knees. "Hnngg... thanks... Mr. Frei... you've taught me a lot during this fight..." he mutters between pained groans. Pulling his feet up underneath him and putting most of his weight on his knuckles, Ichiro suddenly springs out of his mock sprinters stance, using up the last of his energy to rush Frei once final time. Once he's within pouncing distance, Ichiro will drop a shoulder and attempt to spear Frei in the midsection and tackle him to the ground, afterwards, if he's able to get the sage to the floor, Ichiro will slide up his body and straddle his chest on his knees, where he will start to wail on the older man's head and shoulders with his crosse a few times. Yeah, it might be a tad brutal, but Frei himself said that to hold back would be an insult.
COMBATSYS: Ichiro can no longer fight.
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Frei 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Frei blocks Ichiro's Unnecessary Roughness.
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Frei 0/-------/----===|
With some fighters, you can never tell if they're going to just crumple when the fight leaves them or suddenly leap up in a final blaze of glory. With Ichiro, there is no doubt; Frei's ready for it, because the lacrosse player has made it abundantly clear in this fight that he's going to give and give and give until he can't give anymore. And give he does; even with preparation, it takes a bit of doing to keep from being bowled over by that final charge. The followup hammering with the crosse he carefully deflects, one strike at a time, with alternating forearms. It hurts like a sumbitch, which is certainly a clue that playing it conservative and defending himself was the right thing to do, without question. Seeing the Taiyo student slumping toward the floor, Frei steps forward and doesn't so much 'catch' him as guide him down so he doesn't land on something uncomfortable... like that crosse, for example.
For a moment afterwards, all the young sage does is run a hand across his forehead and let out a slow breath. That was a workout, for sure. Ducking down a bit, he smiles at Ichiro, even if he's not sure the lacrosse captain can hear him. "I hope you'll go far in the tournament," the redhead says with a nod of the head. "And it wasn an honor." He's standing as the medics come out to make sure everything is okay, and then turns to go. Perhaps... perhaps these two will meet again in the tournament's future.
Log created on 23:00:39 09/28/2008 by Frei, and last modified on 13:53:54 10/06/2008.