Description: The pride of a champion; the dignity of an angel. Two men at the peak of their fame and ability stand for utterly different philosophies-- and against one another. The Emperor of Muay Thai, Adon, as yet undefeated this season, faces off against the heroic spiritualist Alma Towazu on a tempestuous battlefield atop the Cliff of Crow Cabin. Both men's resolve are tested to the limits -- by each other and by nature's fury -- and through their battle they forge a proof: there is no unbreakable limit to what the human will may achieve. (Winner: Alma)
Two men sat in the far away cabin, alone in the world. The shack was rotted, almost gutted, and only slightly better than the housing in Detroit. Rain poured all around the shack, and mostly through it as well. A murder of crows crackle in the roof, giving an unnerving vibe to the dim atmosphere. The two men stared at each other quietly. How they came there, they did not know. How long they were here, they did not know. There was only two things they knew: why they were here, and who they were waiting for.
"Where IS that ALMA!"
Adon screeched as he stood at the rotted crate of a table, glaring at the judge. The Emperor was here for a personally-arranged Neo League match. He remembered Alma; Oh, how he remembered Alma. The fool somehow SPITED his very face, and right in front of that FOOL Urine. Adon's eyebrows furrowed. "I, the EMPEROR of MUAY THAI, CANNOT TOLERATE TARDINESS especially from SUCH an ARROGANT COWARD as this FORMER CHAMPION!" The judge just ignores him, munching on the contents of a can of Pringles. "Chill out, dude! Like, you know, he is like the wind, come on. He just blows right on in, and he just blows on out. That's like, so d-"
A crash of thunder shuts the man up, the winds rattling the very foundations of the shack. Adon glared at the door. He hoped his opponent didn't become lost. He hadn't predicted a storm, and the presence of such a monsoon would make this Neo-League fight... tenacious, to say the least. One part of him hoped that Alma would die in the storm, and the other felt vindicated by the fact his awesome MUAY THAI would not CRUSH the PUNY BOY-CHILD into the ground.
Bitterly, Adon continued to stare, the shack shuddering with every gust.
Unheard in the rain, tearing through the mud, feet like the wind.
'You're still going?'
Water mingling with the sweat upon his brow, Alma gazed at the bedraggled but smiling young woman through the lowered window of her car door, feeling the dirt and oil drip from his fingers, hearing her words over the engine's comforting roar.
'Yes,' he replied, blinking away the storm. 'I have a promise to keep.'
Rushing silently through the relentless monsoon, the beautiful youth has left the road far behind. Though delayed by his effort to drag the stranger's vehicle from the ditch into which it skidded, he does not intend to make any excuses. Thunder fulminates throughout the mountainside, but still Alma goes forth unfazed, drawn purely by his intuitive understanding of where his next opponent will be found.
A promise, long in being kept.
For him, much from the time during which he first encountered the would-be Emperor remains unresolved. Yet no longer can he hold himself back from the world of fighting. He will solve those issues on his own terms. He retains his certainty, and it is this that gives him the boldness to carry onward, alone, through the darkness.
Lightning crackles--
"Pardon me."
Illuminating a cabin in the rain, and the tall youth, chest heaving silently, outside it. The bright light flashes, the jolt sending the crows scattering noisily into the air, their caws as defeatening as the weather; it is within the brief and eerie silence between the birds and the thunder that Alma speaks, upon his arrival to the cliffside. His normally feathered and textured blond hair is damp and flat against his head, tailored but casual clothing plastered to his body, red-tinged bangs almost entirely obscuring his hazel eyes. He gazes straight ahead, composed, unruffled even after his breakneck pace.
He looks at Adon for a few lingering seconds, but offers nothing more in greeting and instead, in the few moments available to him, casts his gaze about their precarious location, continuing to ignore the tempest hammering down upon him as he regards the dangerous cliffside, raucous avians, and forgotten abode.
"What an unfortunate place," he murmurs, barely audible above the storm.
What memories plague this place, that nature seeks to wash away?
Does it remain possible that new ones, better ones, might be forged here?
Alma casts a sidelong glance back into the shattered cabin, at his adversary.
...Maybe not with this guy.
And then there was Alma.
The Emperor stared at the man-child before him. The infamous Alma Towazu. Adon's face stays warped in a small sneer. He holds there, unmoving, glancing up and down on the pretty boy. In a strange twist of irony, it was he who was wet this time, instead of his many fans. "Whoa, hey, dude, you are wet." The judge mutters, glancing at the monk. He slowly rises up from his kneel, until Adon slams his palm down on the crate.
"NO!" The Emperor howls, and immediately, the judge stumbles back, sighing loudly. "For you SEE! I! ADON! The EMPEROR of MUAY THAI am OFFENDED by your LATE NATURE! Do you TREAT ROYALTY with such CALLOUS INDIFFERENCE? Your pardons are TOSSED ASIDE like COMMON REFUSE! And on the weather." The Emperor leans forward dangerously, the crate croaking under the weight being pushed upon it. The judge seems to be getting dressed in slicks and an umbrella. Adon locks his eyes upon the man. "YES! This is a MOST UNFORTUNATE PLACE to fight the EMPEROR of MUAY THAI."
"But WE WILL fight in the RAIN."
Adon shoved the crate aside, shattering it into the side of the shack. The building shudders, the very foundations groaning against the impact. Adon sneers at the boy as the shack begins to twist, slowly starting it's gradual fall. "NOW! ALMA! FORMER CHAMPION of the NEO LEAGUE SEASON FIVE! You better THINK QUICKLY, before the ENTIRE HOUSE of CARDS which your FOOLISH MARTIAL TECHNIQUE has been BUILT upon TUMBLES DOWN."
Adon adds quickly.
"LIKE THIS SHACK!"
"I don't believe in royalty."
Alma's murmur is gentle, mild, but carries through the storm.
Facing toward the cliff, he continues to gaze at Adon sidelong, seemingly not inclined to face the self-proclaimed Emperor straight on. As the Muay Thai champion vents his frustration on the crate upon which he had been sitting, Alma turns away entirely for a moment, gazing into the storm as the man's words ring out. The Radiant Angel, falling rain forming a halo about him as it scatters against his body, seems deep in thought-- and certainly not as though his disinterest toward Adon is intended to be provacative.
Think quickly, eh?
"Very well."
Alma turns fluidly, sweeping his arm out, fanning a wave of raindrops as with a thunderous crackle, lightning shears by the cliffside and illuminates once more his ethereal beauty, terrifying beneath darkened clouds.
"I've made up my mind."
It is difficult for Alma to fathom someone who appears to have dedicated themselves utterly to fame and fortune, willing to pursue it even by the most disingenuous of means. But even if pride is not true dignity, pride is pride-- and something that Alma can, at least, understand.
"I want to see your will... you who would call yourself Emperor."
Alma would live in a world without gods or tyrants. But as he does, indeed, believe that all his opponents are human just as he, then he must confront the human reason that drives some to proclaim themselves what he would despise.
"Yes. Let us fight in the rain."
Even Adon has a dream. Even Igniz has conviction.
"No storm may douse my flame."
Glittering with an irrepressible, preternatural light, immune to the droplets that hammer down upon him, Alma's right hand shines with a soulful flame that drains the fearfulness from the darkness about them, not so much brightening their surroundings as making them seem-- more familiar.
"Show me..."
Let the shack fall. Let the storm carry any memory of their prowess away. Alma seeks only the clash of souls between them, and the knowledge of whether or not dignity or integrity is possible for a man such as Adon-- if there may be any meaningful communion between them-- and, thus--
"...if /you/ have that power."
If his faith will be redeemed.
"HAA!"
That light erupts forth from his hand, a spiralling gout of Soul Power that can no longer be contained, Alma unleashing this sparkling dart nigh unconsciously as it surges through the broken door and aims to collide into Adon before he can even leave the trembling shack.
COMBATSYS: Alma has started a fight here.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Alma 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Adon has joined the fight here.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Alma 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Adon
COMBATSYS: Adon dodges Alma's Sacred Wave.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Alma 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Adon
Adon's world is one completely absorbed by him. A world of power, where the strong fights the weak, and the weak serve the strong. One's power is held by only two factors: Power and Title. Adon swings his title around like a sailor with his fresh pay. All meaning is almost lost with the name. Emperor of Muay Thai. God of a Martial Art.
Adon's reputation, however, has been warping ever so slowly. For the longest time, Adon had been a joke. He had always been compared to the superior Sagat, or even the other more popular members of Muay Thai. Joe. King. Adon was known by most of the higher tier fighters as nothing more than an egotistical blowhard, with a title suprassing his talents. But there was a dark, ugly hole appearing in everyone's theories.
Adon was winning fights.
The Emperor stands strong as the shack collapses around him. The judge, umbrella up, allows the debris to roll off his surprisingly invincible cover. And yet, he just watches as Adon stares down the challenge that Alma throws, the energy that Alma burns, and finally, the single ray of light that cuts to the bone. The blast erupts through the door, and as it reaches the Emperor... the ceiling falls in.
A flurry of screeching cries emerges from the few remaining crows, and Adon is no longer standing. He had a choice. To roll. To side step. To even attempt to parry the blasted energy. But he chose something more bold, something more aggressive: He leapt. Charging through the debris, the Emperor launched high above the energy blast, using his powerful legs to propel him through the air. Alma may remember the pouncing, for he attempted much of the same in that one, faithful false match.
And now, both were out in the hydro storm.
"PROOF of POWER? Alma, you question as much from a CHAMPION like YOURSELF?" The Emperor sailed down in the rain, closing in on Alma as gravity would allow. Both arms were wound back, elbows aimed straight down. Grinning that sick, unbreaking smile, the Jaguar lunged down, attempting to drive both elbows hard into the top of the skull. The impact would do more than a simple head injury, yes. Adon was striking to crush Alma's spine, allowing each segment to smash into the next. A cripple, nerve-wracking pain that would run all the down to what was hopefully Alma's most sensitive point.
His firm, well-formed buttocks.
COMBATSYS: Alma blocks Adon's Strong Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Alma 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Adon
Blinking up into the relentless rain, he sees the Jaguar erupt from the dust and debris, the flashes of lightning like a strobe, the cabin collapsing in stop-motion, his opponent flickering into a rapid descent. Alma gazes up through lashes bejeweled with glittering droplets, gaze steady, features mild unto inscrutibility.
Proof of power.
"I wonder--"
What is it?
"--what you champion."
Can there be such a thing, between men such as these?
Into falling blackened feathers, into a storm-shrouded sky--
"Hmn!"
Alma leaps high to meet his foe.
As panicked crows and the endless monsoon swirl about them they clash, powerful bodies colliding mid-air. The passionate hero seems prepared to crash headlong into what will become Adon's fierce elbow strike, but at the last split-second he blurs into a backward tuck, turning a sky-high lunge into a backflip, and catches the twin elbows on one foot, an upside-down jam kick forming a precise and unconventional defense. But, of course, it was instinctively chosen so as to gather momentum for an immediate counter-assault-- for even as Adon is thrust away, rebounding from that blow, Alma is flipping full circle to lash out in a silent fury, his other leg igniting all at once in a dangerous and resolute blaze.
"There's no victory--"
Righteous zeal rising within, the youth's voice grows tight.
"--for a man like you!"
The scything upward kick seeks to carve into Adon's torso with flaming Soul Power, that scintillating light streaking upward, a beacon of sacred human will in the face of heaven's vengeance above. He will continue to flip, fueled all the more by his own unearthly momentum, twisting into kick after kick as they continue to sail heedlessly through the sky above the cliffside.
COMBATSYS: Alma successfully hits Adon with Rising Fury.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Alma 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Adon
Victory for a man like Adon? The Emperor of Muay Thai knows nothing but winning and losing. His petty ways are well documented, and his reputation bleeds amongst his peers because of it.
But is there more that right and wrong in the world of fighting?
Adon's smashing elbows meet a kick, and after that, he finds the Kung-Fu of Alma lashing out at his chest. Curling his body up, he attempts to defend with his own legs. Unlike his opponent, he fails quite soundly, taking a nasty force of the Soul Power right along side that dose of a powerful kick to boot. Adon is spiked to the ground, landing in a pool of fresh mud and grass.
And he staggers up, burning with his own resolve.
The Emperor eyes lock right back on Alma, his teeth clenched in that smug smile as he picked up speed. He didn't even know if he had a bead right on Alma when he began his charge. He was just following his instincts, pure and simple. A brief lull broke in the a storm, opening visbilty a little bit as the rattling died to a lighter pitter patter. And in this midst, the emperor spoke.
"STRENGTH! POWER! All that TRULY MAKES a WORLD WARRIOR!" The howling stretched over the storm as Adon hurled himself backwards, and he... lands against something. There is a grunt, and the Emperor launches himself through the air. Aiming a single leg out towards Alma, he sails forth in a flying kick, aiming to sweep Alma off his feet in the way so many woman (and even men!) wish they could. Except with violence.
"JAAAAAAAGGA TOOOOOOOOOOTH!"
COMBATSYS: Alma interrupts Jaguar Tooth from Adon with Divine Intervention EX.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Alma 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Adon
"Hmph!"
Alma's final slashing kick sends Adon hurtling back toward the ground, the Radiant Angel performing several more flips as, controlling his descent, he lands resoundingly in the mire, arising swiftly from his kneeling crouch to regard his howling adversary.
"Only a coward would crave such power, a buffer against his own fear!"
The Hero of Taizhou knows better than to preach to madmen. Alma's words rise from within, unaltered by conscious intent. No, his objective is sincere not in its invitation to debate but in its visceral origins: he desires only to evoke all of Adon's ability. What does a man such as this truly have to offer? It is easy for Alma to condemn him. But if he is to face his own fears, as he did against his nemesis, the God of NESTS -- that even the truest of passions may be denied, that there are no moral limits to mankind through which his sense of 'integrity' might be grounded -- he must face all the power at the disposal of those who he believes the world would be better off without.
"You'll never know--"
He knows now, more than ever before.
"--WHAT STRENGTH IS!"
There are no monsters.
If a man such as Adon can arise--
Alma cannot brace himself in the mud; his feet slip, his legs tremble against the storm, and Adon surges forth, erupting from wherever he landed. Yet his arm quivers with the power building there, and his soul strains to be released. He must collide. He cannot deny these feelings. It is only with perfect poise and the most delicate of balance that he is able to push forward despite his utter terrain disadvantage. He deftly, even gently, parries aside the sweeping kick, absorbing as little of the momentum as possible, before his hand thrusts forward and catches Adon in mid-leap, the pearly beam that explodes forth sending the Muay Thai fighter hurling back from whence he came while the youth's arms windmill with primal fluidity in an acrobatic attempt to remain upright after that jarring collision.
If a man such as Adon can be made--
"Uuuuraaaaahhh!"
He can be unmade.
Divine Intervention. EX, to be exact. The most infamous move in Alma's pocket. Adon kick is stopped short by the blast of energy, that launches him far and hard. He sailed past his launching point: The judge, who staggered up right from the mud. He sails past the ruins of the shack, which were... rebuilding? No, that couldn't be. And finally, he lands deep in the mud. He lays there, repulsed again by the power of the man's energy. And spirit. Something stirred in Adon's soul. And bitterly he rose again. Only the light of Alma's aura could stand in the storm. Adon himself might well be hidden... if he did not call through the storm.
"... You are a FOOL."
Adon has a great deal of distance to make up. He starts now to make it up. "STRENGTH is something MORE than just a DEDICATION to RIGHT and WRONG. POWER is MORE than AUTHORITY over PEOPLE. MUAY THAI is something FAR more SIMPLE than THAT. " The Emperor raises a finger at Alma, and his eyes almost seem to cut through the darkness. "STRENGTH is breaking bones, enduring blows, and SHATTERING your opponent. POWER is VICTORY." Adon smashes a fist in his palm, emerging from the depths of the haze. Crows begin to crackle, growing excited over something. A crack of thunder silences them, and the Emperor freezes in place, several yards away from Alma. Slowly, he begins to lower. "You BRING your OWN so-called GLORY and SELF-GRATIFICATION to MARTIAL ARTS, trying to CLAIM IT as something MORE PURE. But it ISN'T. You FIGHT. You make PEOPLE BLEED. No matter how -PURE- you become, it all boils down to one thing."
"-WINNING-"
Adon pounces, leaping through the air once again. Like a spectre, he lunges down, attempting to grip Alma by the shoulders. A taller man, yes. But he recalled that even Sagat had trouble against throws. Height meant you fell harder, and while technique can compensate, natural weakness would take over. Of course, he had his own plans in making the tumble all the more troublesome. If he gripped Alma by said shoulders, he would flip himself over, brace his own feet in the mud...
And throw him towards a crow-filled tree, an offering to the eaters of flesh.
COMBATSYS: Adon successfully hits Alma with Jaguar Carry.
-+- CALCULATED HIT -+-
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Alma 1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\0 Adon
"Huh--"
Alma, grasped by the shoulders, brings his guard in close to deflect against the flare of violent intent that he detects. But his Muay Thai adversary is as wily as he is nefarious, and what the Hiten-Ryu fighter expects, in his limited experience, to be a knee strike results instead in a wild flip, tearing Alma off his feet and sending him hurtling toward the unknown.
For a moment the young man wonders if he is hurtling off the cliff. His arms reach out for the ground, his legs digging for purpose-- only resulting in him failing to brace himself against the hard landing, a shattering crash into a rotting stump that sends cackling birds spiralling up into the stormy sky once more, splinters and chips of wood scattering to be swallowed by the murk.
"Is that..."
Vegetation crunching beneath his feet, forehead bloodied by a stray broken branch, the psychic beauty begins, face lowered, to extricate himself from whence he has been cast.
"...why you fight?"
Alma rips free, one limb at a time.
"To break bones?" The tearing of wood. "To rend flesh?" The ripping of leaves. "Is that what you believe about yourself? That you value your art for what it is: the ability to destroy?"
He emerges and looks up, eyes bright, face hard.
"Don't fool yourself, Adon."
A wounded lion, glorious to behold, he steps forward, debris falling from his body.
"Violence is only simple in one respect," he says quietly, his presence tangible, rippling from him as he approaches, "that it always has a /reason/, a /need/. You're far more guilty than I, Adon, in making combat more than what it is. For while I see it as one medium among many to which I happen to be suited, with which I might approach that 'purity' you refer to-- you strike me as a man who /needs/ this, and this alone--"
A palpitation through the air, like the heartbeat of the heavens.
"A man with something to /prove/."
His presence manifest, a shimmering field of white flecked with gold.
"Why make them bleed? Why shatter your foe? Why /win/?" Alma is shouting now, cutting through the storm. "You speak as though that question is tangential, as though it were not central to why we fight, to the very nature of our fighting. But the fact remains that if you can't look inside yourself and see from whence arises this urge toward violence--"
And then he is before Adon, leaping through the shroud of night.
"Your FEAR will make you PREDICTABLE--"
Leg ablaze, he sweeps out, reaching toward his foe with inner flame.
"--and your IGNORANCE will make you WEAK!"
This attack, too, may not be as it seems. For what begins as a high kick, imbued with soulfire, usual for Alma, suddenly twists in an effort to wrap around Adon's neck, crushing his throat as the Radiant Angel wraps his leg about it-- and then, torquing his whole body, aims to throw the Muay Thai fighter down and away, immolating him with a terrific explosion of psychic energy as he does.
COMBATSYS: Adon dodges Alma's Sea of Flame.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Alma 1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\0 Adon
COMBATSYS: Adon has ended the fight here.
Outrage consumed Adon. Sheer outrage. Well, not at first. It was somewhat demented enjoyment of spiking Alma right into the trunk of a tree. A high-pitched cackle erupts from the depths of the Muay Thai master, barely breaking over the constant shower of rain. The crows join in, creating a shrill cacophony of wailing. And then, it stops short as Alma breaks free from his prison.
And with it, came the outrage.
The words from the monk burned white-hot. Mostly from the truth... but from the small glimmers of wisdom from the petty man. He rend because of the feelings he gained from tearing a man apart. But he never killed. He had never killed. He had come close. Wrath consumed him, Lust consumed him, Pride, Gluttony, Envy, Greed, and even Sloth. He embodied everything wrong in the world. Yet, when challenged, he had nothing but to stand for his warped values.
"PROOF? Do you learn NOTHING from the GREATEST WORLD WARRIORS?" The Emperor screamed, fist drawn back as Alma charged in foot first. "There is no GROWTH but in WINNING!" And the Emperor does not catch Alma's bluff. No, he does not see the grapple. What he does, instead, is leap backwards. Shooting backwards, he leaves Alma's snatching attempt well short, his eyes burning at the confusion of his attack. He realized the boy was bluffing. The man-child was attempting to outsmart HIM! The EMPEROR of MUAY THAI! Such insults are not forgotten.
"I will NOT forget such an INSULT!"
The Emperor roared, digging his heels back. "Why do you not GIVE UP! Oh, no! I KNOW! You do not wish to LOSE! VICTORY PROVES YOUR STRENGTH! LOSS PROVES YOUR WEAKNESS! And the only way to DEFEAT WEAKNESS... IS TO WIN!" The Emperor leaps, rocketing forward with a single knee forward. The Muay Thai knee, flying through the air. With a solid, single charge, the Emperor simply sought to smash the boy's face in with his knee... and to shatter his entire jaw structure.
Simple, really.
COMBATSYS: Adon successfully hits Alma with Medium Kick.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Alma 1/--=====/=======|=======\-------\1 Adon
"Huh--"
Grimacing slightly, Alma feels his leg sweep at nothing. A bead of sweat forms upon his perfect brow, his body exerting itself to the limit to match the agility of his successful adversary. He cannot deny Adon's ability. Even if the man lives a lie, it is one he has had the power to perpetuate in the face of serious challengers. Nevertheless--
"Urrgh!"
The question regards not the level of Adon's power, but its value.
Overextended by his artful but failed grappling attempt, the Radiant Angel reacts moments too slowly. The Muay Thai fighter swiftly leaps into action, and Alma is only realizing the form his violent intent has taken by the time the knee crashes into his skull. He cannot raise his guard; he can only instinctively twist his head to the side, protecting his vulnerable face but instead taking the mighty blow directly in the temple, a hit that would fell instantly any lesser man. Knocked off his feet, Alma collapses to the ground, vision white from the impact, head ringing a death knell.
"...You're... wrong..."
As Adon descends from his attack, Alma struggles to lift himself on one arm, bloodied face downcast, again shrouded by dampened blond locks.
"...No victory arises... from fear. That's why..."
And suddenly, just as the kickboxer's feet touch ground, Alma rolls from his seemingly weakened state in a blur-- not to retreat, but to advance, plunging low right toward his adversary, closing in where others would reasonably withdraw.
"...I want you..."
As he rises to a crouch, all at once his whole body takes on the glow of Soul Power, that pearly luminesence that glimmers with rich and subtle tones, the shining prowess of man's will made manifest.
"...to be FREE!"
Thus does he erupt in a geyser of spiritual flame, a torrent of psychic energy that explodes directly up and around him and aims to crush Adon's defenses, sear through his body, lift him up and away-- and shatter his consciousness, and the preconceptions that for so long have guided it. In one overwhelming strike, a power formed of pure emotion seeks to rend open the limits of Adon's being, to blur all boundaries and expose him to a vastness beyond mortal imagining -- the endless light of rapture, the soul-crushing eternity of the abyss -- and let the awe and the beauty carry him away.
For a moment, at least.
One will pitted directly against another.
Can the strength of Alma's ideals smash the pillar of Adon's pride?
COMBATSYS: Alma successfully hits Adon with Full Confession.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Alma 0/-------/---====|=======\====---\1 Adon
Adon's life is nothing but a lie. A shadow. A cruel twist of fate. Here was a man who was only the right-hand of Sagat, only to be struck down by Ryu in a single blow. Here was a man, in his rage, challenged his own master in a one on one duel. And despite his victory, his body was all but broken. He was now the Emperor of Muay Thai, wearing a mantle that was built by a man far greater than he was.
And by that, Adon fought.
The knee collides powerfully into Alma, and the Emperor rebounds backwards, landing in the deep mud. His grins holds for a moment, but only so long. Already he felt the light. His mind was like the lightning around them. Cold. Precise. He couldn't fail. And already, the pure emotions began to burst. As his feet sank in the mud, the Emperor just stiffened. His entire body flexed, tightening as he struggled to raise his arms up. And there, he endured the blast... at first. The energy blew his arms open, and in the light, he was consumed. The feelings were... reeling. Addicting. Pure. Adon felt his mind giving away. And then, it snapped back. His words. The insults. And now, revenge. By the time the energy scattered, Adon was still upright, and still up to his shins in mud- 20 feet away. And his body visibly raw even in the darkness, his even more striking scowl cut through the rain.... before his own shrill voice slices through it.
"Freedom?"
Adon glared back at Alma, his feet still stuck fast in the mud. "FREEDOM?! I do not FIGHT to be FREE. I do not FIGHT to RELEASE my HOLD on this WORLD. I FIGHT for MUAY THAI." Adon was weakened. He was slowed down. He was in agony, his body was rattled to the very bones, and he was on the line. He was so close to the line. He could have rested. He could have retreated. He could have fallen back, and even given up. But no. He had something in the back of his mind. Rage. Vengeance.
And the scent of weakness.
Adon stands there, breathing heavily. "MUAY THAI is all I stand for. I MUST uphold MUAY THAI. There is NO ONE ELSE who DESERVES IT." The Emperor roars. "SAGAT is LOST! CORRUPTED! A BASTARD ART of it. AND YOU. YOU! YOU have no SENSE of the RESPONSIBILITY of a.... OF MUAY THAI!" The rain ran down Adon's face, down his brow. He waited, rested.
And prayed the waters concealed his fear.
COMBATSYS: Adon gains composure.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Alma 0/-------/---====|=======\==-----\1 Adon
"Do you."
From the risen dust and fading soulful light, a silhouette speaks.
"Do you, Adon?"
Chest heaving, blood streaking his heavenly features, Alma Towazu maintains a steady and penetrating gaze upon his adversary even as his limbs twitch from strain. Fatigue and pain repressed by righteousness, his voice calm and sure, the youth does not notice how his own body trembles.
"You say that you value the perfection of your art," he says solemnly, stepping forward out of the remnants of his geyser-born halo and into the sludge, "but in your eyes and actions I see only a man who craves the recognition of others. You would cripple your adversaries before striking them down, would do anything to ensure your victory. Your pride, and its demands, only shields-- what must it be? A fear, I can only presume, of your own insignificance."
Stopping before the roaring champion, Alma raises his fist, summoning once more a terrible revealing light into his grasp.
"What sense of responsibility lies in that?"
Hazel eyes glimmer, flickering as lightning strikes once more.
"You do seek freedom," he asserts, voice low, "freedom through power over others, the freedom that comes of being feared, respected, and admired-- of having the value of one's existence seemingly proved. But, Adon," and here the community organizer's voice becomes almost chiding, "that effort will fail. The security you desire will come only once you have confronted your true fears and come to terms with them, and reliquish your tragic pursuit. That is why, on the path you have chosen--"
Even if words cannot convince this man, Alma is drawn to speak, his passion bubbling up within him. This act is not only for his opponent's sake, nor is it for Alma's own self-indulgence. This is for /them/, to imbue the conflict between them with even greater force, to increase the stakes. To make this less about pride, and more about dignity. But if even a man such as Alma cannot sway Adon...
"There is no victory!"
Perhaps the heavens can.
Thunder ripples through the air, the clouds darken yet further. The rain hammers down in sheets. Mud deepens; the cliffside beneath them rumbles ominously. And as the elements gather, howling indignation that those who dare to fight in their midst, like a spark from above Alma's energy gathers, arm trembling as though having to battle for supremacy with the natural forces about him to harness his own power. Breathing deeply of the tempest about him, internalizing it, making it one with their own battle, the Radiant Angel unleashes a radiant beam, a piercing lance that emerges from his palm to spiral wildly through the space between them, dodging and weaving like a bolt of lightning itself before plunging down in an attempt to carve through Adon's very body.
COMBATSYS: Alma successfully hits Adon with Divine Intervention.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Alma 0/-------/--=====|=======\=====--\1 Adon
Alma strikes it. Alma strikes it hard deep in the wrinkled heart of Adon. He did fear his own insignificance. He did fear that people would forget him, or only see him as an empty placeholder until Sagat took his place... or when the next Sagat overthrew him. Every moment of Adon's life since he took the throne was one building up the illusion that he was powerful. Not just strong, but a world champion. A KING and ONE that was part of everyone's life. But the truth was more painful. He was no John A. Macdonald, but only a Turner. And there was Alma, the small boy, calling out in only the most innocent of voices the truth.
That the Emperor wore no clothes.
Divine Intervention strikes again. Adon watches carefully, his body building. He feels it coming. With nothing more than a hard turn, the man attempts to roll away. But the slow sucking tells him the truth. He wasn't going to make it. The blast of energy strikes Adon hard, tearing him right out of the air. A pained scream erupts through the night-time storm. With a dull, murky splash, the man falls into the grass. The rains continues to fall, as Adon does not rise. He writhes in the ground, attempting to pull himself up. He raises himself just high enough to view Alma, before falling into the muck.
Adon was down.
********************
No.
No.
"-NOOOOOOO!!!-"
The Emperor of Muay Thai erupts from his collapsed state, his arms flailing about madly. He charges straight for Alma, mind blank, body spasming. And yet, in his blind state of purge vengeance, there was something unearthly. His form was perfect. His body burned with a great light of his inner chi, a fiery orange aura that consumed his limbs. Pressuring the monk, his limbs turned into a blur of kicks, knee thrusts, elbow jams, punches, and finally, just punches. He kept punching Alma, forcing him closer and closer to the edge of the cliff before finally...
He truly passes out, his energy completely spent.
COMBATSYS: Adon can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Alma 0/-------/--=====|
COMBATSYS: Adon successfully hits Alma with Jaguar Thousand.
-+- CALCULATED HIT -+-
[ \\\ <
Alma 1/---====/=======|
Thunder rumbles, too close. Alma, hand upon his breast, breathes in deeply.
"What did he expect...?"
The youth's soft murmur is lost amidst the storm. Crows have huddled in the half-wrecked debris of the forsaken shack, silently weathering the heightening tempest. Slowly, the bloodied beauty turns up his chin to gaze high at the raging heavens, the sky consumed by darkness. Cascading down, smothering him, icy cold droplets.
"The rain... it's coming down even harder, now."
Alma, exhausted, feels neither the satisfaction of victory nor the despair of defeat. Adon has fallen before him, pierced by a sacred truth, but while he could sweep the man's legs from him, Alma could not bring him to his knees. Even if they have touched one another today, he doubts that even his spiritual might will scar a lasting impression on Adon's soul. Though driven to act by his own integrity and a sincere belief in Adon's human potential, even his best technique cannot force another's mind. Most likely, the Emperor of Muay Thai will walk away with a hurt pride that will only further fester, accelerating in its consumption of what remains of his soul.
And the curse of Crow Cabin will remain.
The would-be savior looks up into the chaos above him, knowing he will find no answers there, knowing he will never know what he might have done to lift the burden on Adon's spirit-- and the miasma from his place.
Yet a blood-curdling scream pierces earth and heavens alike, startling Alma like nothing else, his eyes widening at the sudden spike in an aura already crushed. The final burst of Adon's power -- the desperation at the heart of his pride -- carries him up and toward the Radiant Angel like an avenging demon, and the youth has only the time to curse himself for underestimating the depth of this man's psychological furor before his opponent is upon him.
Remembered eternally by the lone judge huddled by the shack, replayable on DVD from his hand-held camera, will be the mighty offense launched here, and the defense that almost thwarted it. Adon's speed, for a man by any account on his last legs, is unbelievable, his headlong rush combined with savant-like technique-- yet with a burning resolve, Alma counters each strike, moving in tandem with his adversary, arms and legs twisting sinuously. Two great cats do battle, evenly matched. Yet while the noble lion may just barely stave off the assault of his foe, he cannot avoid being pressed back-- back, and farther back. With all of his awareness, psychic and otherwise, focused entirely on the incandescent aura of his opponent, he is much less aware--
"Wuah!"
--of his environment.
One slip is all it takes, his foot skidding off the side of the cliff. The blows hammer home cruelly, sending Alma to his knees as he scrabbles at the mud for purchase, seeking now only not to be hurled off the edge of the cliff. Lightning shatters the sky once more, blinding him to his opponent's attacks, only to cleave the very firmament beneath them, a tree splitting mere yards away from them. The judge throws himself to cover; the two fighters are beyond notice. Alma, blind and dazed and barely conscious, seeks only to weather this last storm, and endure Adon's final assault.
But even Adon at the peak of his rage must exhaust himself; even with his opponent on his knees before him, he cannot continue to attack forever. Alma, clinging tenuously to the cliffside, gasps in desperate relief, still blind, as the rain of blows ceases, and despite himself, unthinkingly, loosens his numb grip.
Only to have Adon fall upon him.
For a moment, Alma, blind, believes he has lost consciousness. The last few seconds occurred so quickly he does not know what has transpired. He knows only that each hand is powerfully gripping something, and that an ominous cracking has grown only louder. His concentration muddled, he opens his eyes to see what he is grasping: a tree root several feet below the cliffside in one hand, and Adon's brawny forearm in the other, his heavy opponent dangling in mortal peril down into the infinity beneath them.
Smoke. He smells smoke.
The tree above them has caught fire from the lightning strike, its roots smouldering. The mud about it, blasted away, has begun to shift-- and then only accelerates, the erosion beginning an unstoppable chain reaction. The reality of the situation stabs Alma through the heart. He does not need to be a psychic to know what is coming, as the dirt and the mire fall about him, hurtling downward. The root he is grasping cracks; he hears shouts from above. Feebly, he kicks his legs, attempting to find purchase on the muddy cliffside. But sweat slicks his palms, and he begins to slip from the root-- as Adon begins to slip from his grasp.
No.
With all of his strength, Alma clings to his anchor and his foe, though he feels his very body rent in two by the opposing forces, and as the very cliffside begins to give way. He must pull them up. He must find a way. There's no time. He must save them.
But he can't.
He can't...
COMBATSYS: Alma takes no action.
[ \\\\\ <
Alma 0/-------/--=====|
...let it end like this.
~ Jiro! ~
Eyes snapping wide, Alma feels, all at once, as light as a feather.
~ I won't let our story finish here! ~
With supernatural strength Alma hoists them both up, his teeth gritting, sinews straining like never before. The cliff caves above them, the mud tumbling down as the last of the support fades-- and Alma, sweeping Adon up as though he weighed nothing, begins to /run/. He runs, up the cascading dirt, with impossible swiftness, like a man walking upon water. He runs, reaching out into the darkness with his free hand, and screams.
"I PROMISE!"
Howling with all his passion, driven by his very essence, Alma Towazu, his opponent secure, emerges from the dust and debris and falling earth and slams onto solid ground, rolling past the half-rended shack, past the shocked and appalled judge, beneath the fading screeches of the crows.
The thundering of the mudslide ceases, and with it, it seems, so has the thunder. For the first time, Alma can hear the sound of silence. It is only once he realizes that he can no longer feel the falling rain that he rises laboriously, body screaming in protest, to a sitting position, and cracks open his eyes.
Blue.
The sky is blue.
Darkened clouds still shroud much of the horizon, but in their fleeing they have left behind a perfect cleft of periwinkle. His lips parting, Alma cannot prevent a gasp of awe escaping him as, his head throbbing, he can grasp only that above him there is openness, that from the cage of darkness they are freed.
In the distance, a lone crow caws once, and is silent.
And the shack, half-destroyed, seems less forbidding in the light.
COMBATSYS: Alma has ended the fight here.
Log created on 20:47:47 07/31/2009 by Alma, and last modified on 00:54:45 08/05/2009.