Description: The day to decide it all has arrived: one final battle will determine who, with the eyes of all Southtown watching, is worthy of the title 'Champion of Virtue'. Many have striven to revitalize this city, and among them are those who stand atop the gleaming arena that has been erected above the ruins of Geese Tower; thus is it the virtue of unrelenting willpower -- of unconditional defiance in the face of senseless destruction and despair, of a spirit that fights on even when all is lost -- that both defines this resurrected metropolis and its tourney's contenders: Heroine of Korea May Lee and Burning Teacher Hayato Nekketsu. But the tournament organizer and now Chaos Agent Alma Towazu should have known: virtue is meaningless without an adversary-- or two. (Winner and Champion: Hayato)
The day has come.
The roar of the crowd cuts to the heavens, the bright sky thick with exultant cries. Before them, ruins: with the debris carted away and much extracted, the remnants of Geese Tower are no longer a scene of complete devastation, yet with nothing built to take its place the scene is reminiscent of some ancient Grecian temple, worn away by war and time, forgotten, yet retained so that we do not forget. This is all the more true now that the construction equipment, so often idle and unfunded here over the past six months, has been evacuated: in solitude, the Tower in this state, like the statue of Ozymandias in the desert, would be a stirring memorial to man's folly.
Yet the streets before it, extending outward for multiple blocks, are packed with throngs of tourists and Southtown's citizens, men and women and children, those who have witnessed the exploits of the YFC4 and those who have simply reaped its benefits: a revitalization of the city's economy, the profits of which, being themselves charity, were turned toward the rehabilitation of the city itself. Such an epic project has not been undertaken since many in the audience can remember: yet somehow, for all its flaws and failings, the YFCC sustained this endeavor, and it flourished.
The city is alive.
He can feel it: the pulse of the people.
And within it, the whisper of the metropolis...
Over the course of many weeks and with the donations, as ever, of many, their arena was constructed: plinths carefully erected and bolted atop the chunks of debris too large to transport and too solid to be broken down, atop which a wide surface has been place, gleaming white in the sun, shining in the many gazes directed toward it. They have gathered there, upon this vast celestial pedestial, a crown of the city placed upon its once-king's fallen palace: the contenders for the title, 'Champion of Virtue'.
And on the brink, basking in the shouts of the people, now stands Alma Towazu, the Radiant Angel of Southtown, and the brilliant marbled surface upon which he stands suffuses him, as it mingles with the sunlight, in a halo to dazzle the eye. Having emerged renewed anticipation, he has stood in silence for several moments, arms spread wide-- and though none can see, his eyes are glittering-- with promise, and with the hint of tears.
~ I... I can feel it. ~
What to another man would be a vast gathering is in Alma's strange sight the singular power of a city. The aura of thousands coalesce into one, and the ley lines that streak along streets and buildings, themselves lifeless edifices, serve both as testament to how humanity has imbued them with enduring meaning and then themselves appear to rise up and bind these people together, man's own constructs serving a function more secret and yet even more potent than the practical: to create a space in which the act of creation itself further flourishes. Interdependences upon interdepedences stretch before the young man at the edge of the arena, a soul-crushingly beautiful sight. For a moment he feels he will be swept away--
~ This is what it means to live together. ~
--and in the next breath, he is swept through, cleansed, free entirely of worries and stress -- of endless fundraising and accounting, of battles won and lost, of the events of Taizhou -- that he did not know he possessed.
This redemptive power clears the lump in his throat-- and gripping the microphone tightly in his hand, eyes wide and stance open to the crowd, Alma steps forward, eliciting shouts anew.
"People of Southtown!"
His voice, which at first he feared might crack, is truer than ever.
"Visitors to our fine city!"
The cries are deafening. Yet though Alma has never spoken to nearly this many people before, he cannot detect an iota of fear within himself. Everything is smothered out by the fire kindled within him, an unrelenting passion feeding off the energy of these others, reveling in the happiness that he -- his leadership -- has brought about.
"Welcome to the final battle of the YFC4!"
When did he become a leader?
"The spectacle we offer you today, in its passion and its ambition, will be living proof of what we know to be true: that no matter what assails us, that no matter who seeks to blunt our will or crush our hopes, the spirit of Southtown, and of its people, can never die!"
It doesn't matter anymore.
"In one corner, the Heroine of Korea, the fan-favorite determined to prove herself worthy of the title and eager both to offer aid to any in need and to confront evil wherever it may be found: May Lee! And in the other, our own Burning Teacher himself, a formidable warrior whose iron will is devoted to cultivating, as in our own organization's best tradition, the fighting spirits of the youth: Hayato Nekketsu!"
There had been objections from his staff, of course, tournament results aside: photographs of some of Hayato's more... unfortunate moments inside (and outside) hostess bars; arguments that perhaps a true hero would not, in fact, dress and behave like one from a television show. But--
"What these two warriors share is the same virtue that unites us all: the will to, in the face of darkness and despair, tyrants and madmen, never surrender! To fight, to rebuild, relentlessly, with a hope that cannot be shaken, a pride in what is right and true that is /eternal/!"
Though his stance is sure and his voice steady, one does not need to see the lights dancing in his eyes to tell that Alma is, as always when at his best, quite carried out of himself.
"Watch now this glorious battle, and see mirrored your own unbreakable will!"
He raises his fist, and for one brief moment he seems to reflect the sunlight himself, seemed to be engulfed in some heavenly flame-- the optical illusion elicits a deep intake of breath, until it becomes clear that Alma has simply spontaneously ignited, his fist consumed in shimmering waves of psychic fire. The ripples from it envelop his whole body, and the crowd roars in affirmation.
"And when we are done, the ruins we stand upon will rise again: not as a symbol of one man's wealth or prestige, but, with the charity each one of you has offered, as a symbol of our collective and indefatigable strength!"
He hasn't quite worked out the details with the city council, but--
After this, how could they refuse?
Smiling widely, Alma sweeps his arms open.
"Let us begin!"
Adelheid drops Sky Noah.
Whether restricted to her own neighborhood or allowed to roam free, May Lee fought valiantly in the Southtown War.
This one day handily trumps those many, endlessly long ones in terms of setting her nerves on end.
In a war against criminal cartels and madmen, things are simple; there's good, there's evil, there's justice, there's greed, there are heroes and there are villains. Without hesitation, without thought, May Lee knows where she falls on these varied spectra, and this made the horrors of the war relatively easy to bear. It was just her and her educated fists and feet against the worst that the world had to offer, and little else; about the worst of it was having to fret about a strange girl monk out and out killing a Shadaloo soldier with a bicycle.
The virtue here, though, is simply a title to be earned through competition, and while there was certainly an aggregation of worth over the last couple of weeks... determining whether it's truly just, truly right to fight over something so notional as the right to call herself more virtuous than another...
So the Heroine of Korea is nervous.
Her eyes have been very much fixed on her shoes since arriving. Her hands have been jammed into her pockets, because waving to onlookers, warming up, all of that falls short of keeping herself reasonably calm and sedate in the moments before the fight. She is breathing in slow, rhythmic fashion to aid in this.
Hopefully, the doubts will go away once the fight has begun.
Nervousness is not something that Hayato Nekketsu feels very often. Although it may not seem like it, he usually doesn't go out of his way to attract attention (unless there's an attractive woman involved), he's just a naturally very noticeable guy. And he doesn't dwell on little things. He knows what's right and what's wrong, and considering the purpose of this whole event, he doesn't really care who wins or who loses: just participating helps people out. And so the teacher looks perfectly at ease as he stands in his own corner, shinai rested lightly against one shoulder as he rocks back on his heels.
While Alma is giving his speech, Hayato looks out over the audience, occasionally waving to someone who catches his eye. He notes an attractive woman several rows back, but then Alma mentions his name, distracting him. When he looks back he can't see her anymore. Damn. Ah well, there's more immediate concerns anyway.
It seems like Alma is starting to wrap things up, so Hayato turns his attention back to the arena and his opponent. Now, Hayato works with a lot of teenagers, and he's gotten fairly good at reading them. He can't help them if he can't figure out what their problems are, after all. So it's not too hard for him to figure out that May Lee is feeling nervous. So when Alma gives the call to begin, he starts walking sedately toward her, giving the girl a friendly grin. "C'mon, no need to overthink things. You know you're qualified to be here, so let's just have some fun and give these people what they want." And then he makes a beckoning gesture with his shinai.
COMBATSYS: Hayato has started a fight here.
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Hayato 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: MayLee has joined the fight here.
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MayLee 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Hayato
COMBATSYS: Hayato takes no action.
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MayLee 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Hayato
Amidst the throng of people, the solid wave of energy that has coalesced, there yet resides a small, almost completely unnoticeable point of discord. In the psychic sea, Dr. Richard Tran, the greatest doctor in Southtown, or perhaps even the world, is the smallest of blips, hardly even worth mentioning.
Thankfully for his ego, it's not a realm that he is much interested in. In his long, storied, tumultuous relationship with Alma, Tran has rarely, if ever, found anything to suggest that psychics are good for anything. Not that's he is biased at all.
The physical world, that's where it's at. He's not the king there, either, but he hasn't wanted to be for a long time. It's too much of a hassle, too much this and that and god knows what. Instead, Tran has basically settled on the goal of ruining Alma and everything he stands for.
In some ways, being king of the world would be easier.
Feeling his fury steadily building in his breast as he watches on, an anonymous member of the throng but not, Tran cannot help but think that things have already reached their conclusion, regardless of what happens here today. What he does.
It doesn't improve his mood any, just like when Alma lights up, a shining beacon not just to Southtown, but to the entire world. A fog settles in over Tran's mind, and when he at last struggles through it, the fight's already begun, without him hardly noticing.
"Well," he says to himself because nobody else can ever hear him amidst the cheering, "To hell with it." People are forcibly flung out of his way, cries of alarm and mild ringing out up front as the infamous doctor pushes his way to the fore, coming up at the edge of the arena, practically right underneath Southtown's passionate knight.
"ALMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" Tran's voice blasts out with unnatural strength, the name carrying an immense burden of vitriol atop it. The people near him, bystanders put-off by his rude entrance, fall back, suddenly less willing to deal with the obviously unbalanced man screaming his defiance at what may as well be the heavens themselves. Or maybe they're just scared because the air around him is starting to waver, power visibly swirling around him in invisible, angry curls.
"What the FUCK do you think you're doing?" He has to scream to try to make himself heard, although a tiny, rational corner of his mind decides that Alma probably doesn't have to hear to know the gist of what's going on. Tran continues regardless, voice already growing slightly coarse from the vocal exertion. "Get down here, now!"
COMBATSYS: Tran has joined the fight here.
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MayLee 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Tran
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Hayato 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Tran gathers his will.
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MayLee 0/-------/-------|====---\-------\0 Tran
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Hayato 0/-------/-------|
'Virtue'.
Virtue is .. fighting? Playing to the masses to distract them from a war not long ago fought in their own hometown? Pft. To the Lord of Shadaloo, Alma's declaration, his tournament, it is insanity defined. What was his /real/ motive? That was what Vega had come to see, to try and find a deeper reason, something to be revealed that would make the damned idealistic Towazu show himself as a threat, or perhaps even someone to take an interest in. Instead, Vega is given the image of Alma as 'leader', as a builder of a new tomorrow - and that, well.. That is Vega's breaking point.
He watches, waits, ponders the fighters that are left, the history he has with them, and the scores he has to settle. Is this time to bring Shadaloo directly into the mix? Perhaps.. Perhaps he should simply wait one more round, one more moment to decide if Alma will step in to challenge a victor. That might be an amusing conclusion - to crush him and his 'champion of virtue' both.
Or perhaps he could simply send a helicopter to destroy them. Mn.
"Dolls - Ready stances. I wish to view a bit, before making my... final decision. Nothing will return Geese Howard's town to any semblance of beauty. This city is to be dead to the world, a reminder."
Perhaps he should have known.
There are dark forces lurking about: some vast and mighty, some irritable and alcoholic. Yet in the context of such overwhelming beauty, even the inevitable seamy underbelly of a city seems bound up in some grand project. Alma Towazu is blind to any threat. Any ambition of the part of another man, even if turned entirely against him, seems alight with the possibilities inherent in human endeavor.
Forgive him his enthusiasm.
Alma trembles with joy, feeling the fighting spirits of those behind him build, yet all else drowned from his auric vision by the vast cacophony of humanity displayed before him. He cannot even detect Tran's fury, not even as he begins to cast the crowd aside: it is with only physical eyes that he views the small man battle his way to the fore, his eyes smoldering with outrage. Having already set down the microphone, Alma sees his notorious frenemy, a man who reportedly has attempted to sabotage his tourney at every turn--
"Tran!!"
--and smiles widely, eyes like a child's.
"There you are!"
Even the man's demonic howl of Alma's own name, such a signature between them at this point, is almost completely obscured from Alma's position; he cannot hear a single one of the man's world. But what should have been an obvious job of interpretation, with Tran's rude entrance, angry gestures, and accumulating chi, is totally distorted by the Radiant Angel's current rapturuous state. Tran, too, is possessed of a powerful and unrelenting determination. He, too, is a living symbol of human will, like the city itself! Yes! Yes!!
"Tran, my friend!" Alma cries from the edge of the arena, turning his back on the man but continuing to look over his shoulder, his smile never fading. "It has been too long! Join me in this battle! Let us work together to lift it to greater heights!" How convenient! His beloved rival and teammate has arrived in the nick of time to heighten this fight to a fever pitch. Oh, glorious day.
Without another thought to other possible circumstances, the leader of the YFCC throws himself toward the two combatants standing before one another, seeking to strike a spark that will ignite the flame of battle-- a spark in the form of a surge of resplendant Soul Fire, a lance of energy that drives toward Hayato from the side, cutting into the man's awareness, forcing him to react--
"Uuurrrraahhh!"
--and testing the strength of his heroic will.
COMBATSYS: Alma has joined the fight here.
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MayLee 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Alma
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Tran 0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0 Hayato
IN MAY LEE'S HEAD:
"It's not ABOUT qualifications, it's about, well, how, how do you decide with a fight which person is more virtuous than the other?!" the Heroine of Korea passionately exclaims. There's iron in her spine now, straightening her from the moderate slouch of moments ago. "Why should it even /matter/?! We're both here because we care about the city, just like everyone else who fought in the tournament, right? Isn't /that/ what counts?!" The wild gesticulations made as she says these words culminate in her right hand clapping firmly to her chest. Her eyes burn with fervor, with spirit and determination far outstripping her years; the crowd, as if joined to her by dint of the sheer heroic gravity behind her words and bearing all drop out of their chatter to rise as one and cheer.
"MAY-LEE! BU-MA-YE! MAY-LEE! BU-MA-YE!" is about the whole of it, because Chae Lim convinced her that watching Ali v Foreman in Zaire would be in some way instructive for the fight to come.
"Maybe--maybe we should just--just--shake each other's hands and turn away and go get some tea or something?" she suggests, scratching her cheek and offering a humbled smile as she is bathed in unexpected, unwanted cheers.
IN THE REAL WORLD
"Uh--uh--um... er..." is the most vocalizing that May Lee is capable of accomplishing for a full minute, maybe two, however long it takes for Alma to intervene. Until then, her eyes are sort of wide, her mouth is agape and if she were /actually/ a deer in /actual/ headlights she would probably make for a markedly less sad sight than she does right now. It's all that she can do to meet Hayato's gaze, even.
Fortunately, there's an explosion between she and Hayato which /finally/ snaps her out of her indecision.
Of course, even then, she's still a bit lost for, say, grace or poise.
"Rrrraaaaaaaaaagh!!!" she exclaims as she abruptly unpockets her right fist and throws it forward in a simple jab aimed for the Burning Instructor's nose. It's a ki-ai borne 100% from fear and shock than any thoughts of channeling her inner ki or intimidating her opponent.
COMBATSYS: Alma successfully hits Hayato with Self Expression.
- Power hit! -
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MayLee 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Alma
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Tran 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Hayato
COMBATSYS: Hayato blocks MayLee's Medium Punch.
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MayLee 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Alma
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Tran 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Hayato
Hayato notices that something is going on, but it's not part of the fight. ...Right? Besides, it looks like he still has to help May Lee overcome her nervousness. Now, what would be the best way to do tha- and then a blast of energy strikes Hayato dead on from the side, sending him reeling away from Alma. "Ow! What was that all abo-" But then it's May Lee's turn, and it seems she's overcome her nervousness. Or at least broken out of her frozen state. Hayato swings his arm up, taking the punch on his forearm as he looks from May Lee to Alma.
After a moment the Burning Phys Ed Teacher comes to a conclusion and gives Alma a grin. "Oh, so you want to join in on the action too? Well, the more the merrier." May Lee, however, is the one at hand, so when Hayato lashes out with his shinai she's the one in its path. Hayato unleashes a series of quick strikes across the torso, before winding up for a downward slash to the heroine's shoulder.
If only Alma knew, truly realized what was going through Dr. Tran's head. Though the tiny asian man can no better hear what's being spoken to him than he can be heard, he sees more than enough. Alma, smiling, laughing from up above. Doubts, muffled, rise in volume in Tran's mind, telling him that he shouldn't have come here, that's it's pointless. He's already lost, in the big game and the little.
It's basically blasted out of his head as Alma turns away, a smile that Tran can't view as anything but condescending, as willfully ignoring him. If it's not exactly determination that drives him, the end result is basically the same.
Clawing at the ruined bits of Geese tower, Dr. Tran scales his way to the arena proper, madly scrambling for handholds and, when none are apparent, violently creating his own. He wastes no time upon arrival, bodily hurling himself after his hated foe and sometimes friend, flying across the gleaming marble to cannon directly toward Alma's back with a complete lack of grace or poise, screaming inarticulately and inaudibly the entire way.
A shining spark of power, to lead others. Now /that/... that is interesting. That does draw Vega's full attention, when he finally bothers to look outwards with his own formidable psycho powers. A difficult task for one so closed, so insular - but with the hopes and wants of a thousand upon thousand people all flowing towards this one battle, Vega finally sees. And understands what must be next.
"Dolls - step back, withdraw. This is not your battle - that wave he builds will take careful manipulation - a deft touch, as it were. One that I believe I may provide."
With that, he steps out of hiding, a purple and blue afterimage here and there, not so much pushing his way through the crowd as simply appearing in place after place, the wave of humanity being callously disturbed, moved aside for his forward progress. To the stage, and up - silent and callous. It's not enough to stop the waves of psychic energy the crowd creates, not enough to turn the dream into a nightmare - not yet, at least. Soon, though - soon, those murmurs will begin to grow, to wash around the area.
"TOWAZU! THIS TOWN IS A DEAD TOWN NOW - AND I INTEND TO SEE IT STAYS THAT WAY!" Vega's voice booms out, mechanical aid echoing it throughout the streets of Southtown, a defiant challenge to the master of ceremonies, the man who so blithely supposed /he/ could start a tournament without someone interfereing. "You cannot believe that this series of battles showed anything /close/ to 'Virtue'? Adversity brings virtue. I give you and yours... adversity!" With that, Shadaloo's Lord brings himself close to Alma, and throws a glowing, sparking punch face first towards Alma, the opposite side of Tran's attack.
COMBATSYS: Vega has joined the fight here in the center.
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MayLee 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Alma
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Tran 0/-------/---====|=------\-------\0 Hayato
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Vega 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Vega successfully hits Alma with Strong Punch.
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MayLee 0/-------/-------|=======\=------\1 Alma
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Tran 0/-------/---====|=------\-------\0 Hayato
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Vega 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Alma interrupts Strong Punch from Tran with Divine Intervention EX.
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MayLee 0/-------/-------|=======\=====--\1 Alma
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Tran 1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Hayato
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Vega 0|-------|-------
This power--
The overwhelming spirit of the people that has so engulfed Alma's own being punches through to Hayato before any possible reaction, seizing upon his role as de facto Chaos Agent with abandon. Yet in honing his own soul to a point, so too does he focus the glut of Soul Power that is surging through him, his passion not so much demanding release as simply passing through, all gateways and boundaries open and inviting. It is only then that his intuition chimes a warning, a once-innocuous darkness striking a discordant note.
Not all of humanity drives it to create.
This strange tension brings him to a more normal level of awareness just in time for him to hear the incoherent screaming quickly gaining on him from behind. To this, he may react simply instinctively, and so well-trained is he for such an eventuality that he supercedes even the toxic forboding growing on him: Alma turns and neatly parries Tran's wild blow in a single sweeping motion, snapping out instantly with a palm to project a beam of piercing, sundering light into the mad doctor's enraged face. He blinks afterward, hearing the confused but appreciative shouts of the crowd -- this is all planned, right? -- only becoming consciously aware a moment after that he has, once again, lasered Tran. "Oh, no, Tran," he begins to explain, thoughts distracted, "I meant that you should attack /them/, so that--"
The shouts have turned darker.
Or perhaps that is simply the shadow now falling over him...
Alma fields a tremble in reality for which, despite all his training, he is unprepared. He turns only in time for the fist to crash down upon him, the dictator's shouts echoing in his damaged mind as he is flung across the gleaming arena an astounding distance, leaving a series of cracks and dents in the stone as he bounces and rolls from the incredible force behind that punch. Even as he recovers, the movement practiced and smooth, he wavers and staggers, his body trembling with the impact.
"What--"
Yet the force of the man's aura behind him is undeniable.
"You--!"
It takes only a moment.
"VEGA!"
His master's nemesis; a villain in the war that ravaged this city, and in so many others.
"I... we... won't allow it!"
Alma quickly glances back, to make sure that the two fighters are still engaged. For now, he will seek to preserve the sanctity of their battle, if it is at all possible. The force of that punch-- no matter. He has faced this terrible strength before: he will do so again, with greater will than before. He has grown much.
"Tran!"
He looks to, uh, wherever Tran ended up.
"Forgive me, but I must... put our reunion on hold for now!" A trickle of blood has emerged from his lips already, yet his eyes still shine, and he manages a smile again, this one smaller but-- calmer, and more sure. "And I can't do this without you!"
Hmm. Still, given the circumstances, maybe--
"I'll take you out for drinks afterward!"
Ah, the ultimate trump card.
COMBATSYS: MayLee blocks Hayato's Scolding Slash.
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MayLee 0/-------/------=|=======\====---\1 Alma
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Tran 1/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0 Hayato
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Vega 0|-------|-------
May Lee quickly pulls her forearms in against her chest so that they take the shinai blows instead of, you know, her chest.
*THWACK!*
"Ow--I--I was think--" she struggles to get out in a voice slightly higher than her normal tone.
*THWACK!*
"Ow--uh--I was thinking we--" She's wincing now, and her teeth are visibly gritted against one another.
*THWACK!*
"Ow ow ow can't we just--ee!"
She actually ducks before the final stroke comes in, which is a really good thing, because it probably would have left her arm numb for a while to follow; she was already shaking her arms out to try shedding some of the stinging discomfort when Hayato forced her to duck.
When she stands, it's she, Hayato, and Alma in a Vega cos--wait--no...
Finely chiseled chin, purple aura, sensations of subconscious filth and degredation not unlike that time she foolishly peeked under Dong Hwan's bed and found out what he'd been doing with most of his allowance, booming declarations of destruction...
Right. Not a costume. Just Vega, the real Vega.
"I--I got one of your soldiers to go to school to be an electrician," she squeaks to the dictator for lack of anything better to say. She then swallows the huge lump in her throat, takes a few deep breaths, and turns her attention back to Hayato.
"I was--I was wondering how fighting each other would prove which one of us was more virtuous than the other," she says to the Burning Instructor in a still-small voice that, if nothing else, is slowly losing some of its quavering meekness, "but this--this has to be--maybe we weren't /meant/ to fight each other?"
Her eyes snap between Vega and Hayato, a shuddering breath is released, and then with that the air around her goes still. Eerily so, as if for just a moment, there /is/ no air, just invisible webs of the Heroine's latent chi weaving themselves around her body.
"What if we're here to stop /him/?! Maybe this is our destiny!" she poists. By now, her voice is fully devoid of its tremulousness, and has fallen a step or two /below/ its usual timber. She stretches her right arm towards Vega, the limb snapping with all the sharp surety of a loosed arrow. A faint glimmer of pure white chi alights on the tip of her index finger. "Surrender now, evil-doer! You're surrounded by heroes--there's no escape for you!" Beat. Beat. "Her--heroes and an angry asian man!" Internally, she winces, but externally, she manages to keep her momentum well enough to punctuate this amended exclaimation by twirling in pace like a tiny blue and white cyclone.
Following her cry of, "HENSHIN!" the bright red scarf that until now has been tucked away in the collar of her shirt flows free, flapping in the restored breeze as if a living, independant entity; May Lee leaves her feet in a short hop meant to bring her above the Lord of Shadaloo's head so that the edge of her right hand can collide forcefully with the top of his skull.
"CHOOOOOOOOPPU!"
How does fighting determine who's more virtuous? It... it just does! Sheesh, what kind of hero is May Lee if she doesn't even know that? Of course, there are some things that are a bit more important than who wins in a match like this. Like dealing with a man who is essentially the personification of evil when he shows up. Hayato's assault on May Lee comes to a halt when Vega arrives, the teacher turning to stare at the dictator.
Now, Hayato does not care much for Vega. And he has some personal reasons to be angry at the man. But the building anger is pushed aside by May Lee's heroic speech, bringing the grin back to Hayato's face. "I like the way you think, kid!" And then the Burning Phys Ed Teacher runs toward Vega along with May Lee, striking in low while she goes high, attempting to drive a blazing foot deep into Vega's stomach.
As it turns out, Dr. Tran doesn't go very far at all. A blast of energy, a brief sensation like falling forever, and he just sort of ends up standing there, hunched over, rage replaced by little more than a vacant stare.
He totters, blinks, and then quickly recovers himself enough not to fall flat on his face. Gotta take the little victories where you can. As awareness slowly filters back into Tran's skull, the last several seconds wind out for him, and as comprehension dawns, so does a brand new anger. "You...I...you think...grrrk!"
Doctor Tran actually seems to be /choking/ to death on what is possibly pure anger, manifested in physical form, in his throat. Alternately, it might just be bile, or perhaps something entirely unrelated, like spontaneous critical asthma. It looks like he is mere moments away from frothing at the mouth.
"First, FIRST," he finally manages to gasp, "I don't give a damn what you meant, I'm not here for any of these jokers, they can go to hell for all I care!" Tran gestures with a broad sweep of his hand, indicating not just all of the people on the stage, including the pants-wettingly fearsome Vega and the ANNOYING AND DISREPECTFUL MAY LEE, but also the entire crowd.
"I'm here to kick your ass all over the place, make you suffer for what you've done! And THIRD," Tran continues, really getting steamed now, in an amazingly literal sense, "Do you think I can just be BOUGHT OFF like that, like some kind of goddam fight WHORE? For some god damn BEER? You god damn tight-wad! SKINFLINT! CHEAPSKATE!!"
Punctuating his final, indignant cry the only way he knows how, Tran explodes, a great cloud of steam blasting straight upward, gently swirling and forming a mushroom cloud. Though there's little practical effect, when it clears a bit, Tran is still standing there, looking as crazed as ever, panting heavily like he's already run a marathon, mildly oblivious to all the heroics and crap going on.
COMBATSYS: Tran takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
MayLee 0/-------/------=|=======\====---\1 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Tran 1/-------/=======|-------\-------\0 Hayato
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Vega 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Vega dodges MayLee's May Lee- Chop!.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
MayLee 0/-------/-----==|=======\====---\1 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Tran 1/-------/=======|-------\-------\0 Hayato
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Vega 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Hayato successfully hits Vega with Devastation Kick.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
MayLee 0/-------/-----==|=======\====---\1 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Tran 1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Hayato
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Vega 0|-------|-----==
<<I see what you're doing, Towazu. You're offering the city a savior. A /new/ force to fall under. You're trying to gather the city up under your banner, to 'rebuild'. To 'make things right'. You're an idealistic fool - you always, always have been...!>>
Not said out loud, no - that message is for Alma and Alma alone. Carried on the wave of psychic energy that Vega imparts with his fist, a warning that Vega understands what is at stake here in this 'battle' - perhaps even informing the youth that he plans in dissasembling the plan here and now. One glowing fist comes up...
And people interfere. Always, always they interfere. How can Lord Vega ever manage to complete a battle when there are idiots around who take joy in throwing themseslves at him time and time again?! Vega leans out of the way of May Lee's giant chop, letting the open hand pass just through his cape, ripping it from his shoulders. However, with his side open, Hayato's kick drives into Vega, and sends him skidding back and away - three feet, five.. ten, before his feet dig enough into the surface to stay his momentum. Narrowed white eyes spark with psycho power, and the palpable rage that surrounds him channels into his hands, blisteringly fast as he makes his next move.
Hands grasp for May Lee's scarf, the Dictator of Thailand simply attempting to get a grip around her scarf, her throat - and to hurl her away.
"Hrrraaaagh!"
~ ...A savior. ~
For all his apparent poise, Alma Towazu remains dazed, his encouraging words to Tran masking a still-overwhelmed psyche. All at once, that pulsating force of the people seems obscured and marred by the presence of a powerful evil, and his heart, confused, yearns for the innocence of a moment before, where the human condition was nothing but purpose and potential. The words that echo in his mind mirror the uncertainty suddenly besetting him, the grounding of moral clarity pulled out from under shaky legs.
~ The will of the people... ~
He had spoken not of himself, but of the power of the people before him. For a politician, such is rhetoric. But Alma, though to some extent self-aware that he has entered that political realm, and though having grown all too able to manipulate as much as inspire others with his presence and charisma -- for the common good, of course, which is to say YFCC fundraising -- truly believes what he says. If only because the energy that fills him, that gives him his strength, could be deprived at any moment if he ceased to feel the flow of energy about him. The truths that he detected as a child in Hiten-Ryu, the power of drama, become more profound than ever with the resonance of Soul Power: the eyes of a crowd, the presence of the other, even if invisible, is essential to waging a battle. For all the credit he might take for what he has achieved here -- and for all the responsibility that he does truly try to shoulder -- he knows everything could be taken away in a moment, if he ceased to open his heart.
~ An idealistic fool... ~
He would be nothing without them.
~ I know. ~
His thoughts echo out toward the dictator.
~ But I can be nothing else. ~
Tran's all-too-justified words rain down upon him, but for this extended moment, the Radiant Angel has eyes only for the true villain, the unsteadiness fading from his stance as his eyes begin to brighten, not with the light of the presence of so many, but with a flame all his own.
~ I do not stand here because these people need my rule. I am driven by what I am, what I have become, a force beyond a craving for power or a naive hope. For all your strength, this is something I think you cannot understand-- ~
His whole body rippling with gathering light, pinks and purples and white, he steps forward.
~ We have chosen to live! And so-- ~
"This is what must be!"
Trembling again, eyes afire, Alma watches those who were supposed to battle one another for the title of most virtuous descend instead upon the dictator, and with that all uncertainty fades forever. They have chosen all too well, too well for such burning passion to be contained by the constraints of an event. All at once, all this energy, within and without him, reaches a rapturous peak.
"I see, I know, and yes, sort of, though that doesn't mean I don't respect you," Alma replies in a clipped, almost detached voice, though the highly uncharacteristic tone is better contextualized when he turns to look at Tran, revealing that his eyes are barely-recognizable fields of light. "But you must know it would be meaningless for you to strike me down now. In this moment, do not dwell in despair! Tran! My rival and my friend!" His voice resonates, as though rising up to shake the heavens. "Hayato! May Lee! We must us strike together-- for the future that we've dreamt of, and for the sake of today!"
Trembling, Alma lunges forward, growing blind to everything but the man fighting in the midst of his contestants, plunging through and past them with such speed and intensity that he leaves a wake of psychic flame, his entire body beginning to be engulfed, growing from his feet up.
"Please! Offer whatever you can! For the people--"
His image flickering in a thousand small shifts, the sheer brunt of psychic energy concentrated within him infuses his assault with a transcendent potency: he begins to spiral, buoyed off his feet in a torrent of Soul Power that, though Alma in his rapturous state has no way of knowing, oddly resembles a technique of the dictator's own.
"Our passion--"
And with force of his very being, of the primal energy of the crowd, in defiance of the dominance that Vega's presence has begun to project over it...
"CANNOT BE DENIED!"
...Alma takes the point in a tremendous assault...
COMBATSYS: Vega knocks away MayLee with Fierce Combo.
- Power hit! !
[ \\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
MayLee 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=------\-------\0 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Tran 1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Hayato
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Vega 0|-------|----===
There are a lot of fighters in Southtown who are so powerful that they're able to move quicker than the eye can track. This is a feat that May Lee can accomplish only when her inner fire is burning at its brightest, when it's time to utilize the most powerful of the techniques she learned through years spent intensely studying every scrap of Kamen Rider material she could possibly get her hands on.
So when the Heroine of Korea is in one moment dangling by her scarf in Vega's adamantine grasp and in the next simply... gone, due to travelling at extreme speeds to somewhere else, it's unusual. At least the explosion of rent wood, dust and vegetation some thirty feet away provides a clue as to where she might have went, as does an agonized cry of, "MY /CABBAGES/!"
Adding to the oddness: her scarf is still dangling from Vega's hand.
There hasn't been a moment where May Lee has been without it in public since her preteen years; it's been a lucky charm and an immediate sign of her unflappable eccentricity for almost as long as she's been involved in the study of Taekwando, and now it looks as if it'll be a trophy at best and more than likely just scrap of cloth for the incinerator or refuse bin.
Beneath her pile of rubble, May Lee is barely moving; a few planks and cabbage heads tumble and shift in accordance with the minute twitches she's able to force from her body, but for the most part, she seems to be trapped. Her life is flashing before her eyes.
Curiously, most of the images are actually just snippets of Kamen Rider Black and the whole thing is backed by a soaring, triumphant track that features a middle-aged Japanese man singing with all his heart. Go figure.
"Ghh..." she weakly moans as her fingers finally find purchase on something and her arms find the strength to haul her towards the 'surface'. She didn't actually hear Alma's declaration, nor is she particularly aware of what he's planning, save for perhaps the dimmest sort of recognizance engendered by his Soul Power seething distantly in the air.
"Auu... ahh..."
She can /feel/ the absence of her scarf as she strains near uselessly to pull herself free, to shift debris, /something/. It goes beyond the sharp digging against her bare neck; after eight years, it's simply a part of her, a totem representative of the left-fielded acumen that ultimately is responsible for her presence here today. She and it have been one for more than half of her life, and whether she gets free or not, the realization that she may never see it again begins to sink in.
The Heroine of Korea's fingers clench tight against a precariously jagged chunk of wood.
Chi rolls off of her body in great, tingly sheets of frictionless pressure, and while they may not be so obvious to those without the preternatural senses to note them, when a second explosion rocks that ruined vegetable stand, well, it should be impossible to meet.
For the second time today - only the first under her own power - May Lee is a multi-toned blur of momentum, this time travelling in a sharp, upward arc. Where normally, her scarf might flow behind her as a nearly solid contrail of red, blood from the many wounds suffered in her landing trails behind her, moving with disturbing uniformity before trickling away to fall to the sidewalk.
She tries to shout as she rises, but it's of little use; a few impassioned, wordless sounds all the same echo across the battlefield when she's hit the apex of her rise, and they and the moment of physics-defying weightlessness that follows them are punctuated by her falling towards Vega with her right leg and right arm both extended. All the way, she's knitting sparks around the dictator's body, preparing to generate an explosion that will hopefully consume him after she's made her mark upon him.
By divine providence, should this all succeed, it will leave Vega high and vulnerable to Alma and Hayato both for a few scant moments.
And then, should the three heroes strike true, she will do all that she can to rip her scarf from his fing
And then, should the three heroes strike true, she will do all that she can to rip her scarf from his fingers before he can resist her.
And then, she will probably collapse.
Even after his kick sends the lord of Shadaloo skidding away, Hayato is quick to follow after him. Many people would consider this suicidal, but Hayato doesn't dwell on things like that. If Vega is going to break him, well, it's going to happen. Unless he helps to break Vega first. And since Alma and May Lee seem to have the same idea in mind, it might not be that farfetched an idea.
Now, what Hayato is about to do is the kind of thing that would probably get him squashed if he was fighting Vega alone, so it's a good thing there are some other people to draw on Vega's attention. The teacher surges ahead, taking the lead- up until May Lee blurs past him. But even with the sudden explosion in front of him the teacher plows on ahead, trying to grab a hold of Vega's arm and drive a fist into his stomach. In one smooth motion he attempts to flip Vega around, thrusting him out of the fading explosion and right into whatever Alma has coming.
Dr. Tran listens to Alma in what passes for silence, past the crowd and the steam and his own panting and what he is almost certain is the sound of his own blood boiling up behind his ears. "Now? Now!? Try ever, you god damn son of a bitch!"
Biting back the rage, the chi flowing and swirling and pulling up inside him, he adds, "Just can't get the time of day, can I? Dick!" He pauses, teeth grinding, and as he realizes he's doing it he gets even angrier. "Fine. Fine!"
"If you want me to help so bad, I'll do it!" Clearly, a warning sign, or maybe some sort of petulant, violent tantrum in the works. Tran stalks forward, the steam still rising in heavy waves off of his back, thicker now as he pulls in power, as much as he can handle, more. It comes down, begins to coalesce, and Tran's face contorts with the stress and the pain and the strain of it.
"And you!" Tran turns his attention to Vega now, his signature chi coming down, thickening around him. "Just get out of the way, idiot! What do you think you're even doing, charging in here like it's even going to accomplish anything!"
Suidicidal words shouted, Tran rushes forward, fists now entirely encased in chi, packed down and crushed and shrunk until the actual flesh is completely obscured. Then he brings them together, and they blend, forming a white orb the size of a basketball that seems to glow in Alma's light.
Leaping forward, Tran bends backward, so that the globe is almost touching his feet in midair, and then snaps forward, bringing it down toward Vega's head in a vicious, /highly explosive/ hammerblow, roughly at the exact same moment that May Lee's explosion explodes. Presumably, their powers will combine. "MORON!"
And with the combined force of May Lee and Tran's strikes, with Hayato's quickly following with a grapple, vicious punch, and a throw--
Alma will collide then, a spiralling storm of not only his own burgeoning willpower but the burning spirits of all those surrounding him-- and of the people, the people of this city, who call to him, quickening his heart--
"UUUURRRRAAAAAAAHHHH!"
Soul soaring, he seeks to match the magnitude of the man before him.
COMBATSYS: Vega fails to interrupt Absolution EX from Alma with Final Psycho Crusher+ and is struck by Final Soul Crusher from Alma, MayLee, Hayato and Tran.
[ \\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
MayLee 0/-------/---====|=------\-------\0 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Tran 1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Hayato
[ |||||| ]
Vega 0|-------|-======
<<See, Towazu? To crystallize the spirit, to bring people together - you need adversity. Far more than you could ever get from simple 'virtuous combat'. You need struggle, you need pain. I've given you and your 'champions' both. Consider it a gift - as long as whatever you build out of this rubble never bears Howard's name again. This city is not mine, and never has been - but it will never again be /his/...!>>
It's 'said' in the blink of a moment, the space between the quartet leaping forwards, and impact. Spoken into his mind, a glimpse for Alma of the Dictator that knows his place, the mad psychic drawn this way and that by fate. A threat here, a crushing there - he plays the part he is set to, and offers up energy enough for those that attack. Gouts and waves of psychic power swell from his hands and his eyes, his fists thrown together to the point of impact after impact, dual explosions and crushing kicks.
In the afterimages of the light, he is there. But in the end, when the light fades, he's gone. No words of triumph, no declaration of his loss, swearing to avenge himself. No, no - in the end, there's just stillness, silence - and a definite lack of Vega, however beaten and brutalized he may have.. /must/ have been. He's gone.
COMBATSYS: Vega has left the fight here.
[ \\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
MayLee 0/-------/---====|=------\-------\0 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Tran 1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Hayato
That stillness expands, shrouding the arena and its audience.
Amidst the silence, Alma kneels, eyes vacant, body still.
~ ...What...? ~
Never again be 'his'...
He has faced those who fought for their ideals, and recognized them as rival saviors in a shared world; he has waged war against those who craved power or a warped vision of humanity, and sought to defend against their mad visions. But in discounting the beliefs of those mighty figures who would be antagonists toward his brighter future, the all-too-young man kneeling upon his own battlefield wonders if he too easily dismissed the depth of their insight. In the end, the philosophies of men such as Vega and Igniz may indeed devolve into the kind of nihilism Alma is poised to combat with his unyielding faith. Yet--
~ What do we... do now? ~
On this point, he cannot help but feel the man is right.
A staged battle amidst the eyes of thousands, a mere spectacle for their entertainment? It was only a way, after all, to bring them together. But it demonstrates no virtue, no true will. True adversity is not only necessity-- it exists, in what men such as Vega bring. Alma will never accept the /right/ of darkness to exist in the human heart -- his ideal world remains one purely of light -- yet he cannot deny the role that it plays even in his own philosophy. Only real uncertainty demands real faith. Only evil demands good. Only the possibility of death demands that a moment be lived.
And only destruction demands creation...
~ I... understand. ~
Very well, Vega. This city will not be Howard's. And it will not be Alma's, nor Kain's, nor any other person who might struggle for dominance. No one will replace that king. No one needs to. For adversity is always present-- and its own role in human life, as Vega himself seems to know, demands--
"...Thank you... everyone."
--that we face it as one.
Slowly, Alma rises to his feet-- and raises his fist to the sky, breaking the silence with a victorious cry that stirs the otherwise completely bewildered audience into roars of approval. Was it staged?-- Wasn't that man--? But it doesn't matter to the gathered masses, not after the awe-inspiring spectacle they have witnessed. The Radiant Angel, beaming radiantly once more, turns toward his injured but still-standing compatriots and contenders, smiling widely.
"Thank you so much."
What do we do now?
"I'm afraid our fight has... been irrevocably interrupted, but..."
We live on, and rebuild.
"...even if it doesn't matter who is crowned champion..."
The battered, beautiful youth tilts his head to the side slightly, reaching up to run a hand through his pale blond, ruby-tinged hair, eyes softening now to match a slight smile.
"The people came to see our will to fight displayed."
He turns his head toward Tran-- dear Tran, who joined despite it all--
"I'll leave it to your discretion, but..."
And, his smile widening, raises a hand to beckon.
"My will remains unbroken."
To face yet more adversity--
To live on, in the face of endless destruction.
For Southtown-- this is the virtue that matters most.
COMBATSYS: Alma opens his heart to the flow of battle.
[ \\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
MayLee 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Tran 1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Hayato
'Still standing' is not quite accurate for May Lee.
'Lucky to be kneeling instead of laying face down on the stage' is more like it; she's clutching her scarf to her chest like a lifeline as well, panting audibly and trying her level best to keep her lips turned up in a smile despite the pain jabbing at her from every angle.
It's /kind/ of successful; her expression is in a weird place between an ascendant grin and agonized grimacing.
She can't really raise a triumphant cry or anything, but the smile, maybe, is enough; victory is victory, and just as she should have realized at the outset, there may well prove to be enough virtue for everyone.
Even Richard Tran.
COMBATSYS: MayLee gains composure.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
MayLee 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Tran 1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Hayato
Hayato, meanwhile, has been lucky enough to get a few good hits in on Vega without taking any blows in return. It doesn't seem quite right to try attacking May Lee now, though, especially after that hit she took from Vega. She doesn't seem to be in the greatest condition at the moment. Alma took a pretty good hit too, but he seems to be in better shape. But also distracted for the moment. Tran, though... Hayato's gaze lingers on Tran for a moment. It's be okay to punch him, right?
The teacher pounds his right fist into his left palm as he looks over the aftermath of Vega's assault. "So... Are we done here, then? Things seem to have gotten a bit messed up, but if we still want to show off our will to fight, I'm game." He grins widely, his Burning Spirit blazing within. Hey, they drove off Vega. That's something to be excited about.
COMBATSYS: Hayato gathers his will.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
MayLee 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Tran 1/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Hayato
Panting even more heavily now that he's played his part in attacking Vega, to whatever end that might be, too tired to even realize that the tall, decidedly evil man barely even noticed him, a decidedly fortunate turn of events, Dr. Richard Tran almost falls down. Well, he does, kind of, catching himself on one knee, weakened after the sudden, painful exertion.
Rising slowly, gingerly, he turns to Alma, the only person who really matters here. "What, like you were suddenly going to give up and--grk!" He coughs into his hand, and then flicks it down to the side, tiny red droplets spattering on the pure white of the arena floor.
The small man begins to stagger toward Alma, clearly exhausted, but he's too stubborn to give up just yet. "...give up and decide not to just do what you feel like doing, whenever you feel like doing it, no matter what the consequences might be?" Steam begins to gather thickly again, around Tran's foot; he's too tired for anything resembling subtlety.
"No matter who it affects, whether they like it or not!? People like you should just die!" Summoning up what he has left, swaying like he's been drinking (more than usual), Tran awkwardly swings his leg around to brutally club Alma right in the side of the head.
COMBATSYS: Alma dodges Tran's Strong Kick.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
MayLee 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Tran 1/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Hayato
Alma glances from May Lee, wavering at best, to Hayato, and back to Tran-- the continued roar of the crowd echoing within him. Reluctant to ask any more from the Heroine from Korea, and with the rules of battle so utterly disregarded that continuing seems pointless, still Alma cannot deny that he feels driven-- that he cannot walk away from what he has started, even if it simply becomes more of a mess.
Because that was the point, wasn't it?
To endure in the face of unspeakable adversity.
To reach still greater heights.
"Let's do it."
His words are quiet, but a renewed light glitters in his hazel eyes, and the sound of his voice carries across the arena, mingling with the shouts of the crowd, who sense that, whatever destruction has been wreaked here, still the fighters can continue.
"Nekketsu-sensei!" the leader of the YFCC calls, even as his gaze drifts back to the enraged Tran. "Please show me your strength! I--"
The good doctor Tran has expended far too much of his energy attacking Alma's foe, and his kick is too wavering; Alma weaves aside and under the powerful but shaky blow, yet does not counterattack immediately, instead keeping his eyes on the short dynamo of fury.
"--am ready... if you are."
But he has ignored Tran for too long -- for months too long -- and this time does not turn away, even as he challenges Hayato. Shifting, he circles his exhausted longtime adversary. "You're right," he replies quietly. "I don't know what the consequences will be for continuing. Because I wanted to help this city, I brought destruction upon it-- that man wouldn't have come if I hadn't worked to make this a reality. But Tran-- that's the point-- the point of all this, what I've always believed whenever I've done something to anger you. We need to continue. We can't be so afraid of destruction we never create..."
Gaze focused, Alma tries to regard Tran through clear eyes.
"...That's why... I'm prepared to take responsibility."
And how much destruction can one creator bear?
"I think that's what it means... to be a leader."
There's only one way to find out.
"And you should know-- as I am, with this path before me--"
To push further, harder still, against the boundaries of the will!
"--I can't be anything else!"
Darting, blurring, he does not drive too powerfully against Tran, does not seek to utterly overwhelm him in his fatigue: a series of jabs provoke and test the American's guard as the Hero of Taizhou and ever-irritating bastion of conviction ducks and weaves about, focusing on one opponent but making sure his awareness is open to the possibility of more.
COMBATSYS: Alma successfully hits Tran with Spring Shower.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
MayLee 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Tran 1/----===/=======|=====--\-------\0 Hayato
Finally, /finally/, May Lee manages to retake her feet.
Sure, she immediately wobbles like she's just downed a whole bottle of beer all by her lonesome, but she's /standing/. She doesn't even fall, she just kind of stumbles towards Hayato before managing to stop herself from falling over.
That's about /all/ she does, though; one of her eyes is swollen shut, and her vision out of the other is really blurry; for the moment, she focuses on trying to focus on Hayato, Alma and Tran, /anything/, because by all appearances, there's still fighting to be done.
Wincingly, the Heroine of Korea wraps her scarf around her neck again, then holds both hands up before herself in readied fists.
COMBATSYS: MayLee focuses on her next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
MayLee 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Tran 1/----===/=======|=====--\-------\0 Hayato
Hayato doesn't really understand the argument going on between Tran and Alma. They've obviously got some history that he's not privy to. But there's clearly a fight going on, so it seems like Hayato should be intervening if he's not going to wander off. Tran did crash the party, and he's been shouting angrily a lot, so maybe he deserves to get hit? On the other hand, Hayato owes Alma for that blast earlier. ...Oh, what the heck. He'll just wail on them both until the situation changes.
Starting with payback. Hayato doesn't try for subtlety, his footsteps loudly heralding his approach as he charges across the arena toward Alma and Tran. As he draws near he pulls his arm back in order to lash out with a full armed shinai strike at Alma's torso. He just slices out with no intention of stopping his swing for some little detail like Alma's body being in the way.
"Bullshit. BULLSHIT!" Swaying dangerously, Tran tries to mount an effective defense against Alma's punch-based onslaught, but he's too slow, too off-balance. Each one strikes home solidly, sending the asian madman tumbling back in a heap of tangled limbs.
And yet despite how tired he is, he is still very much compelled, in that strange way, to continue fighting. Call it the fighting human condition, the inability to leave well enough alone, whatever. There's no point to it, that rational corner tells Tran. He can't help himself, anyway.
"You're like a bull in a china shop! No! Worse, because nobody realizes it, even when they should! When I should!" Scraping the ground, Tran goes into a headlong rush toward Alma, slipping and stumbling despite himself, gathered chi rushing up around him. He could try to take strength from it; it's a neat little trick that he likes to use when he's not trying to use too much of it, when he's got it all well under control.
Tran doesn't have it under control now. He's bursting at the seam, practically; as before, orbs slowly form around his hands, but this time they stay seperate. This time, little jets of power continually escape, making little, pathetic tweets. With a desperate lunge, Tran smashes the first upward, looking for Alma's chin. The second, after a momentary pause, comes straight ahead, an explosive bullet-train of a punch, taking so much out of the doctor that afterward, he can't even stand. "You...who can even live like that? It's not...natural."
COMBATSYS: Hayato successfully hits Alma with Fierce Strike.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
MayLee 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Tran 0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0 Hayato
COMBATSYS: Alma dodges Tran's Here Comes Dr. Tran!.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
MayLee 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Tran 0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0 Hayato
Ordinarily, Alma might be a little more dismissive -- though he, of course, would call it 'patient' -- if only because he's used to this. But his encounter with Frei only days before, though fundamentally positive and redemptive, is raw in his memory. He hurts those who are close to him. He cannot seem to help it. The flame that is his passion both consumes and burns, and the responsibility he chooses to bear -- as an affirmation of his bonds with others, no less -- necessarily falls upon those who stand by his side, as it so often has with those who defend the YFCC in his absence.
How can he bear it, if he has a heart?
"...They... they do, Tran..."
Frei knew. If he hadn't known all along--
"Those close to me... know what I bring."
Alma would not now be forgiven.
"You say it's not natural for me to sacrifice so much in my striving, but..."
The uppercut sweeps just barely past, Alma tilting his head, his face still close to his adversary's, the heady steam of Tran's chi stinging his cheek.
"Aren't you yourself ever in pursuit of a victory you cannot attain...?"
Having not been tagged by the first strike, Alma is able to weave aside from the second full-force attack, his delicate dance beforehand keeping him light on his feet enough to evade once more without unbalancing.
"The... extremes I am driven toward are... unusual, but... natural."
He opens his mouth to say something more--
"Ughh!"
--and what emerges is a grunt as Hayato's powerful strike connects solidly with Alma's exposed back, sending the Radiant Angel plummeting away and rolling across the ground. This second brutal strike he has endured takes a fair toll upon the youth, yet after a moment, he manages to rise to his knees, and glance over toward Tran with still-clear eyes.
"Still..."
And raising his right hand, aglow with power, he smiles weakly.
"...Whatever you may think... it's never been easy."
It was his tears, not his certainty, that earned Frei's trust again--
"Haaaaahh!"
Though both were sincere.
That fist plunges toward the ground, eliciting a line of light that carves its way toward Hayato, a reprisal that erupts in a scintillating geyser of Soul Power, a showy display to remind the crowd that none of the contenders have fallen just yet.
Speaking of showy displays:
Lightning curls around May Lee's right fist, and from there it snakes swiftly up the length of her arm. This is maybe the most blatant show of chi she's capable of manifesting on a regular basis, and the spiritual, subdermal tingling that travels through her blood as she instinctually channels her inner strength is familiar, pleasant and bracing all at once. She's spent enough time resting; the show must go on! People are watching! A champion must be crowned!
With Vega gone, she basically cannot imagine any reason at all for a champion to be crowned, and that's saying something given her earlier misgivings. All the same, apparently one must be, so here she is.
"IIII-TNNNNNG! OOOOOOOH!" she exclaims, struggling with her injured jaw for clarity. As she shouts, she dashes, and as she dashes, she extends her sparking hand towards the center of Hayato's torso. With any luck, she'll travel through his body in a moment of immaterialness without catching any of Alma's blast, leaving her safe on the other side and Hayato's nervous system burning.
COMBATSYS: Hayato blocks Alma's Full Confession.
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MayLee 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Alma
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Tran 0/-------/-------|=======\-------\0 Hayato
COMBATSYS: MayLee successfully hits Hayato with May Lee- Lightning Blow!.
- Power hit! -
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MayLee 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Alma
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Tran 0/-------/-------|=======\=------\1 Hayato
It's a perfect scene. Hayato twists his body to take the brunt of the blast from Alma on his shoulder, which succeeds but leaves him wide open for May Lee. She zooms past him, with no visible effect for a moment. But then the teacher's legs buckle and he falls to one knee with a grunt, his arms dropping to his sides. But after a moment the gym teacher pulls himself back up on his feet, turning to look at May Lee with a grin. "Well, good. Looks like you've still got some fight in you!"
Hayato lunges toward May Lee, planting his left foot on the ground as he draws near and twisting his body to bring his right leg around in a heavy roundhouse aimed to knock the Korean fighter right off of her feet.
Dr. Tran collapses. There's really no way to spruce that one up. "Like...like I care." The fight's gone completely out of him; he's just too exhausted after these tremendous exertions, pushing himself to the limit again and again. "You don't even know. What you're doing. You're just...clueless."
Flat on his back, Tran shakes his head back and forth. "How can you say it when...?" He groans, giving it up for now. Completely unsurprised with how events have turned out; the ones that matter, at least.
COMBATSYS: Tran has left the fight here.
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MayLee 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Hayato 1/------=/=======|
"Ugh..."
Alma feels his back crack as he slowly gets to his feet, mind a daze from the overwhelming power he's been compelled to channel. His words are little able to stir Tran; the doctor collapses completely this time, with no energy left, his last words as spiteful as ever-- though the questioning tone of the last leave Alma uneasy. What has passed in his absence? Nothing has changed, and yet--
"...Tran..."
That man's pain has taken on a sharper note.
Swaying, summoning the last of his reserves to gather himself and ensure that he might continue to oversee the fight, Alma takes a deep breath and situates himself atop the arena, regarding the two still-battling combatants. He'll hash this out with Tran later.
"...I know it doesn't help, but... I'm sorry."
After that support, he owes the man more than a drink.
COMBATSYS: Alma gathers his will.
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MayLee 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Hayato 1/------=/=======|
COMBATSYS: MayLee interrupts Strong Kick from Hayato with Gauze Tail Tinkerbell.
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MayLee 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Alma
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ <
Hayato 1/---====/=======|
COMBATSYS: MayLee can no longer fight.
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Alma 0/-------/---====|=======\====---\1 Hayato
There's a freeze frame: Hayato and May Lee's shins meet thanks to the heroine swinging her right leg 'round so that it intercepts and aborts the Burning Instructor's strike.
Later, when this moment is replayed for the viewers at home, the two fighters will go negative and bright red rings will travel upwards along the length of May Lee's leg to provide a visual demonstration of the toll that stopping Hayato's strike bodily has just imposed upon her.
Following that split-second meeting, May Lee plants the sole of that sneaker against Hayato's chest to brace herself very briefly, and then she somersaults straight up into the air a foot or two; her toes strike Hayato's chin on the way up. And then she does it again, and again, and again, gaining in speed with each until she's ascended to the point that her feet are level with his head. She throws a roundhouse kick of her own at his temple, and then she lands, panting heavily.
This is when those rings that the viewers at home will be seeing actually turn out to mean something: a second, maybe two after she's touched down, her eyes go wide with pain, and she crumples to the ground with a clipped yelp.
Her scarf, stilled for these last few moments and fought so hard for today, falls loose and long over the middle of her body.
Even after the repeated kicks to the head, Hayato manages to remain on his feet. Of course, he's looking rather dazed, and his head has been knocked back far enough that he's staring up at the sky. And he stays like that for several moments before his head drops back down and he shakes it a few times to clear his mind. Then it quickly occurs to him that he should be paying attention to May Lee, but a quick glance shows that she hasn't managed to get up while he was dazed, and doesn't appear like she'll be doing so in the immediate future.
The teacher slowly turns around to face Alma, after glancing from May Lee to the fallen Tran. "Well... looks like things are just about wrapped up, huh? Unless you're still interested in going at it for a bit. I suppose it might be bad if we end up with nobody left standing to close the show for all the folks watching, though." Still, Hayato grins widely, cracking his knuckles. Happy to walk away, happy to continue fighting. He's enjoyed himself enough either way.
COMBATSYS: Hayato's Burning Spirit keeps him going!
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Alma 0/-------/---====|=======\======-\1 Hayato
Alma refocused his gaze upon the two remaining fighters just in time to see May Lee perform a magnificent technique-- too much so for her body to bear. She collapses, and the young man exhales a breath he did not realize he was holding. Looking from the pained expression on the girl's face to the collapsed doctor beside him, Alma signals toward the edge of the area, and a flurry of activity suggests that the medics are preparing to arrive on the scene shortly.
"Well fought, everyone," he says quietly, and means it. That man--
They repelled him together.
They're all champions of virtue here.
Well... most of them.
Only now does Alma truly feel the weight of exhaustion upon him. Even the heavy blows he has been dealt to not compare to the raw passion that has been spent from his heart. Nodding slowly, and frankly just as unsure as May Lee whether any victory here qualifies oneself for the title, still does Alma reach, almost mechanically, toward the microphone by the side of the arena. The cries of the audience intensify as they realize May Lee will not stand again.
But he hears Hayato's words--
"...Hmm?"
--and stops.
The roar of the crowd only grows closer as Alma and Hayato make eye contact.
And, oddly, all that Alma can think is:
~ I see Tran's point. ~
Is this truly rational?
It could only be seen as such, the Radiant Angel reflects as he lunges as though /pulled/ toward the Burning Teacher, by another who feels this unrelenting passion, and hears the call to express it. When he finds another so like himself in that regard--
"Gladly, sir!"
--how can he refuse?
Fortunately, for the audience, his attack does not seem to need to make any sense, for it is spectacular: a blade of flame erupts from his hand, a mighty sword of his soul, glittering with an ethereal light yet trembling with an all-too-real potency to shear the air before it. It slashes out as though to meet Hayato's own weapon, solid enough to be defended against by a formidable enough opponent but illusory enough to, if it connects, cut through the man's very body, a false blow that cannot draw blood but will inflict upon one's mind the pain of such a strike.
In this moment, it doesn't matter who stands at the end.
What does it mean to win a fight like this?
When they can strive no more, they will decide.
COMBATSYS: Hayato dodges Alma's Blaze of Glory.
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Alma 0/-------/-----==|=======\======-\1 Hayato
Now, Hayato doesn't know much about blades that cut the soul or such things. When he fights it's generally all about flesh and bone. And getting hit by a sword is usually considered to be a bad thing. Being made of energy doesn't make it any better. Possibly worse. So Hayato has no intention of being hit by it. And so he suddenly ducks low and to the side, moving with speed and agility that might not be expected in a man of his size and brash nature.
And then he suddenly pops back up, getting right in Alma's face and shoving the sword arm aside. If this knocks Alma off balance, all the better, but all it really needs to do is distract him for a moment, so that he doesn't notice the fist until it's too late. Hayato's Burning Spirit is focused on his fist, blazing with the fiery energy he can feel inside himself. And he plans to keep his fist moving until his arm is fully extended, which won't happen until quite some time after it has impacted with Alma's face.
COMBATSYS: Alma fails to interrupt Burning Cross Counter from Hayato with Divine Intervention.
-**- LUNATIC HIT!! -**-
*KNOCKED AWAY*
[ < > //////////// ]
Alma 1/----===/=======|===----\-------\0 Hayato
COMBATSYS: Alma can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Hayato 0/-------/----===|
And so:
Alma's head, immolated in a torrent of energy, is snapped so far back that Alma's feet leave the ground, sending him head over heels into several backflips, by this point his entire body literally afire;
Landing heavily, he shatters the stone beneath him for several meters in every direction, proceeding to bounce three more times to leave similar impacts in his wake, in a cacophony of destroyed stone;
Nearing the edge of the area, looking as though he will not make it before he breaks his face against rock, the divine intervenes, for he blessedly has his fourth fall cushioned by one Dr. Tran, upon whom Alma lands so powerfully that much of his momentum is transferred to the prostrate man, also he catches fire too;
Whereupon Alma and Tran, flagrantly flaming, bounce their ways toward the edge of the arena and fly off into the crowd, the flames extinguishing during their long fall just in time for them to land atop several members of the cheering audience, who rather than flee or drop them pass them along with arms upraised, such that the two now most assuredly unconscious fighters end up unintentional crowd-surfers, borne away, quite possibly for several blocks;
And as some hapless staff members try to chase their administrator and his ill-starred companion through the crowd, and other medical professionals move up to the arena, Hayato Nekketsu, the teacher who is burning so hard right now, is the last man standing--
And winner, by default, of the YFC4.
...
Curiously, all of the holes left in the stone look like perfect femme cutouts holding their jackets dapperly over their shoulders.
Hayato slowly lowers his arm. Sometimes he doesn't know his own strength... he really got into it for a moment there, though. He coughs, then scratches the back of his head. And, well, there's the problem he mentioned. Knocking out the MC tends to cause some problems with events. After a few moments he turns to face the cheering audience and strikes a pose, waving and giving them a broad smile... and waiting for someone from the YFC to come up and take over Alma's announcer duties, or some distraction to come up so he can flee.
COMBATSYS: Hayato has ended the fight here.
Log created on 14:45:48 02/14/2010 by Alma, and last modified on 00:41:14 02/15/2010.