Description: Ever since the end of the Southtown siege, professional fighting has hit low tide. Many of the known quantities have their own personal issues to deal with, and the world is a different place indeed. On the steps of the YFCC, two individuals looking to enter this world make a connection neither expected, planting the potential seeds of a new era...
They're doing their best.
Much of the main building may have collapsed, and almost all the organization's official and unofficial leadership may have coincidentally vacated, but the Young Fighter's Community Center is continuing as many of its programs as it has been able. Despite an acute lack of funds with which to repair the center after finishing with the extravagant YFC4, all has not been lost, even without the usual star power, and an outpouring of public sympathy has helped to keep the organization in which so many Southtown youths have invested their time running and operational. Admittedly, it's still not the same as it was in the garden-party fundraiser days, and it will be a while, if ever, before the thrice (?)-destroyed lobby can be reopened to the public.
Nevertheless, the YFCC keeps giving back.
In small ways, maybe, but the main street that the post-invasion revamped building had been constructed by sees enough traffic for even small events to draw a crowd. The world of professional fighting has lost steam as of late, and there are fewer opportunities than there were for up-and-coming warriors to make themselves publicly known. Still, what Metro City is for aspiring actors, Southtown is for aspiring fighters; there are 'underground' fighting circuits popping up everywhere these days. Capitalizing on that momuntum, and catering to a less desperate crowd, the YFCC's disorganized low-level leadership has finally begun hosting charity matches of its own-- for lack of a better space, on its own doorstep.
Quite the crowd, all the same.
Denji Akiyama does his utmost to look at them through the sometimes impenetrable curtain that is his bangs, reaching up to rub his chin (on what appears otherwise to be a plenty clean-cut face). The rest of his long hair tied back out of the way, the robe-clad youth smiles nervously, glancing back toward the fight official, who looks as though she might be even younger than he is. The impromptu way in which people simply gathered around the beginning of a match upon these wide steps, as though they simply sensed it coming, fascinated Denji -- such that he only now realizes the poor girl has been talking to him.
"And you're aware that this is a charity match, Mr. Akiyama?"
The monkish youth hesitantly raises a hand.
"Oh-- about that," he says. "Uh--"
He reaches up to scratch the back of his head.
"Do you think I could crash at the Center for the night, once this is done?"
When the angel fell to Earth, as it were, Farah Tenjou was in her home country of Egypt with her parents. Her schooling complete, her travels done, it was time for the young woman to fulfill her dream and head to Southtown. For many of the young fighters of the world, there would likely have been a significant feeling of envy listening to Rabiah and Touya Tenjou talk to their daughter as she finished packing her things and arranging for her move. Normal parents would be telling her this fighting business was silly, not to get hurt, think about her career. Farah's parents?
"Lots of guys are going to think they have the advantage because you're a woman, Farah. Turn that right back on them, kiddo," said the mom. "Remember Sun Tzu, Farah. 'A man who despises his enemy is lost,' you know," said the dad. But her mind was somewhere else. Specifically, it was on the TV, and the reporting of what had happened in Southtown after the recent tournament there.
~ Now more than ever, ~ she decided. ~ Now more than ever is the time. ~
Soon she was on a plane, and then moving into an apartment, and seeing the city. Though she'd spent time in China, Japan was something else entirely. For the first few days she simply rose early and walked the city, drinking everything in. Fighting-themed cafes and sports bars. The bright, energetic student body of nearby Taiyo High wandering the streets. Uncounted souls wandering a city that, like a phoenix, was trying to rise from the ashes of its downfall. No stranger to urban settings, nonetheless Farah feels a very different energy in Southtown than in her native Alexandria. Something... powerful and fierce and determined.
~ No wonder so many great fighters come from Japan. It's like it's in the air itself. ~
Is it any surprise that she would end up at the YFCC? She'd hoped to meet Alma Towazu, the sun around which the organization seemed to orbit, but even without his presence the center retains something of it. A bit tall compared to Japanese girls, and dressed quite differently besides, the dusky Egyptian stands out in the crowd, but feels no reservation in talking and chatting with the hangers-on enjoying these casual-seeming charity matches... local students and businesspeople willing to pay some money to see up and comers. 500 yen, 1000 yen... over time it adds up. And then suddenly one of them is telling her she should get in on the action if she's a fighter? How could she not?!
How could she not.
At a different edge of the crowd, just a bit before now, the Egyptian was dealing with a YFCC organizer too flabbergasted by the sudden reversal to argue. "I'm sorry, you want to pay US to fight?"
A few thousand yen? That would come back to her in no time at all. This chance? It might never come again.
And so it is that Farah emerges from the crowd on the other side of the steps, smiling at both the organizer and at her longhaired, curiously-dressed opponent. "Hello! A pleasure," she begins, taking a long cobalt-blue ribbon from her pocket and, strangely, tying it around her right wrist, which she then extends to Denji, regarding him intently for a moment. "I'm Farah, it's nice to meet you."
Whoa.
Denji goes so far as to sweep his hair out of his eyes, holding it back with his left hand to get a clear look at the smiling girl, blinking repeatedly, mouth slightly slack. Southtown may be a cosmopolitan city, but he's only been here for two days-- and they don't make girls like this at Akiyama Shrine.
"You're... my opponent?"
The recluse isn't sure he's seen a more exotic person his age before, not in person. Quiz night at the Neon Rose was fun. Getting to know the primary schoolers on their outing at the park was funner. But the city seems to hold all manner of surprises for young Denji. It doesn't take a love of mystery to enjoy /these/ kind of surprises.
He stares for a little while. He's smiling pleasantly, but he seems to have... spaced out?
"Oh, I'm Denji. Denji Akiyama," he says, though not hurriedly; not as though he forgot to introduce himself, but rather as if he were building up to it, and the awkward and inexplicable silence was the prerequisite. "Nice to meet you too. I'm still kind of new to this, so go easy on me, okay? Ah ha ha." He doesn't exactly laugh, even though his shoulders shake, as he lets his bangs fall back into place to rub the back of his head: it's more like he's saying 'ah' and 'ha'. There's another lingering pause afterward.
"J... just kidding."
The young female announcer is reading off the fight card to the crowd; literally reading it off, as she sweats slightly under the pressure of public speaking. It appears they are not the only newbies involved here. Oddly, perhaps, Denji finds himself starting to relax a bit as he regards the one reading, who he had previously (accidentally, of course) ignored before. He nods solemnly to himself, contemplatively, and his smile returns, gentler, as though having come to an important understanding. He glances back to Farah.
Then he blinks.
"Oh!"
And reaches out to shake her hand... finally.
"Good luck to you, Farah."
'Now--'
Almost as soon as he releases her, Denji springs back along the road as space clears further around them, naturally forming a ring. He raises his hand, and in a strange moment of flair twirls his hand around and then snaps it into a fist, upon which a plume of nebulous green chi begins to pour from it, trailing down his arm and then beginning to pool from his other hand as well. He glances up again at Farah-- but his eyes are hidden entirely from view.
'Fight!'
Can he even see her like that?
COMBATSYS: Denji has started a fight here.
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Denji 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Farah has joined the fight here.
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Denji 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Farah
Whereupon Denji, without hesitation, hurls himself bodily at his now-adversary, arms flailing. He literally looks as though he's going to crash into her windmilling, like a desperate victim of bullying -- but he abruptly pivots at the last moment and instead spins into his assault, a series of three fierce open-handed strikes at the girl's head and abdomen. Whether or not he breaks through her defenses, his continued momentum may yet send him careening into Farah. But if he does, that seemingly awkward collision will reveal itself as the final stage of the attack, as he wraps one arm about her and leaps, spinning once more before hurling her to the ground.
They seem to be the attacks of an overly excitable individual, but Denji, for all that his hair obscures his eyes, looks very focused and serious, and not out of control at all.
Well, if it gets the job done...
COMBATSYS: Denji successfully hits Farah with Shizen no Chikara.
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Denji 0/-------/------=|===----\-------\0 Farah
There's an... electric feeling when Farah finally gets to shake Denji's hand. She's met a few fighters before, off and on; she's the daughter of a former fighter, for example. But rarely has she met someone that she felt... the word she would use is 'depth.' When it comes to wielding Soul Power -- a name she knows, really, only in reference to those fighters that inspired her the most -- she doesn't have what one would call 'piercing insight.' It isn't as if she can read Denji's thoughts off the front of his eyeballs like a billboard. But there's something about a moment of physical contact that, ever so briefly, seems to imprint upon her a sense of the person. It's why she likes fighting so much.
Her impression of Denji Akiyama is of a man with... depth. ~ Like staring into the sea, ~ she surmises. ~ Or... the sky. ~
Why would such images come to mind?
If there's any sense that the Egyptian seems put off by Denji's more... delayed reaction, her own sudden pause at the unfamiliar images and feelings of that moment mask them. But it's not as if she suddenly has second thoughts. Quite the contrary. ~ I need to know more! ~
It's exciting.
"Glad to hear it," she says with a smile as he admits that he's kidding. "I never hold back and neither should you. I hope this will be fun! So..." She gets into stance, a loose one with a vague reminiscence to kung fu or tai chi, her own personal spin on the Chinese art she was taught. Farah smiles brightly at her opponent. "Let's test our limits!"
And then she gets her chance because he's coming right at her, all freewheeling body blows. Her first instinct is to get out of the way, but Denji's attack is surprisingly unpredictable; she's able to swerve out of a mere one handstrike before the second slams into her, then the third, and before Farah knows it she's on her back on the YFCC steps, looking up at the sky, just as she had been before in a more metaphorical way.
It takes a second and then she's hopping to her feet, grinning a little at Denji. "Haha, wow... I don't think I've ever fought anyone who uses techniques like that... this should be really, really interesting!"
~ Now... let's see how deep that sea runs. ~
Kicking off the ground, the black-haired girl leaps forward, right fist extended. The ribbon around her wrist suddenly glows ice-blue, giving a brilliant glow of manifested Soul Power to her corkscrew-like dash, a technique inspired by someone with perhaps a more famous variant of this attack. "Spiral!" Farah shouts, the long tails of the ribbon trailing out behind her in a curious double helix pattern.
COMBATSYS: Denji just-defends Farah's Spiral Heart!
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Denji 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Farah
Beneath their shroud, Denji's eyes gleam.
A vast gorge has opened up within him, and his chi surges like water from its bottomless depths, filling him to the brim. He cannot feel this girl's nature in the way that she can sense his own. He has no grasp of her character as an individual as yet. But the manner in which that ribbon ripples: like a leaf in the wind, or a stream in the forest. Denji has seen these sights before. Though everything about him has changed, though perhaps he should understand nothing, still he knows, he predicts--
And he is already moving.
With a confidence utterly unlike his haphazard greeting, the monkish youth moves with the attack, utilizing both hands to carefully slap away the ribbon as it comes, retreating calmly, arms torquing with such bizarre guiding movements that the ribbon never manages to wrap about his wrists. A wind rises from their efforts, blowing Denji's hair to the side, and his eyes seem to shine with sheer intensity of focus, as if he intends to learn everything about the ribbon by this process-- as if the learning experience has revivified him.
And all at once he moves in, past the deflected attack, and thrusts out a single open hand toward what may be a vulnerable Farah. A sizable globe of chi will suddenly project from it with crushing force, a mighty orb that Denji seems to struggle to contain, hand quivering as he sees to smash through what might remain of the girl's defenses with the raw force of what floods through him.
COMBATSYS: Farah reflects Ranki Rengeki from Denji with Soul Reflect.
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Denji 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Farah
She has to match that intensity.
Another fighter might be put off by the sheer impressive nature of a defense like Denji's, deflated by their attack having been all but brushed aside, but to Farah it actually produces a palpable, visible joy. Her expression, visible through the whirling tails of the ribbon as Denji's summoned winds send them scattering, is one of a great, happy, white-toothed grin.
Part of it is that in that brief moment, she felt something sleeping awaken, at least on a metaphorical level. It's hard to read Denji's expression through those bangs, but it's more that she... felt it. As if having to deal with the attack opened up something in him, and this amazing defense poured out as a result. "Apparently," she says in that brief moment of clashing, the two fighters mere inches apart as they separate in almost slow-motion, "the ocean's deeper than I thought."
But Denji doesn't wait to fight back. He's already on the move, already gathering power, and again Farah has that sense that the process of the fight brings something out in this individual... confirming her own thesis, at the very least.
~ I've got to match that. ~
The blue glow never leaves the ribbon, and even as Denji's burst of energy comes for her, Farah pivots, and makes a sweeping motion with the beribboned arm, sweeping the trailing cloth in the path of the attack. "Reflect!"
Starry-night Soul Power and verdant earthbound chi meet in a shower of sparks, but in the end Farah wins out, the arc of her reflect sending Denji's own power back against him... perhaps even with some of her own energy threaded through it, entirely on accident.
"Hwaah--"
Deep Denji may very well be -- whether or not Farah may be giving him a little too much credit -- but dignified he is entirely not, particularly when he finds the mighty orb he is already having such a tough time getting a grip on is suddenly pierced throuugh with an all new force. It is as though the girl's defense was to overload the orb itself, filling it with her own energies to boot -- an energy that seems entirely foreign to Denji's earth-attuned spirit. Still, the foreign has never much bothered Denji. At the moment, he doesn't think much of it.
More of a bother is the spirit bomb blowing up in his hand.
"Gyaahh!"
For a moment, the monkish character almost tries to juggle the star-shimmering amalgamation thrust upon him, his dynamic defenses producing a rather comical reaction to a fate he simply cannot avoid: a blast that knocks him off his feet and sends him sprawling onto his back, a fair tit-for-tat. He rises to a sitting position, and brushes his bangs out of his eyes to gaze at Farah directly, gazing at her thoughtfully-- before smiling again, a bit lopsidedly but no less genuinely for it. "Wow," he says, as he gets to his feet. "That was very educational."
But the lesson's not over yet-- and it's not yet clear who'll be schooled in the end. Denji flings himself forward again, his face reassuming that almost-artistic focus as the power of nature, coming so naturally to him, flows from his fists. He sweeps his arm around, chopping verdantly glowing paths through the air, leaving chi blades with which to cut through Farah's defenses; he twists into a fierce side kick, throwing himself so fully into it that he looks as though he'll fall over afterward; in fact, he falls to one knee, as his last act is to attempt to grab Farah by the ankles and literally yank her off her feet. If she's already staggered, this may work; if not, it's hopeless. But as silly as the attack might look, hitting the back of your head on the ground can really hurt.
You're forewarned.
COMBATSYS: Denji successfully hits Farah with Charged Combo.
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Denji 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Farah
She'd like to reply to him; it seems as if Denji chooses when to speak quite carefully, to Farah's eyes, and as a result it stands to reason that when he does speak, it's to say something of importance. Unfortunately, there's a... relentlessness to his attack, in a weird way. Before she can get in a word edgewise the air is full of chi-formed blades, and Farah doesn't have it in her to send them hurtling back like she just did. The idea of simply putting up an immediate defense, weathering the storm, presents itself, but to be honest she has no idea where to *start* and so she tries to backstep away from the blades.
Sadly, in the process she clips one of them, and the stinging chi impact twists her sideways into the kick, and then downward into being yanked off her feet. The entire effect is quite strange to watch; it's like observing a little ball go through a Rube Goldberg machine, or watching a house of cards topple in slow motion. Either way, it ends with Farah on her back -- again -- and staring upward for a moment before she gets standing.
This time, she doesn't attack right away, instead rubbing the back of her head with a rueful smile. "A-ha-owwwwww. Yes, educational for me too," she says with a light laugh.
~ It's like there's no discernible pattern, ~ she thinks to herself, observing her opponent. ~ It all seems so random but it can't be. Like he's pulling it right out of chaos and throwing it at me. ~
"I've never met anyone who fights quite like you, Denji Akiyama," Farah admits with a grin, edging closer, playing 'footsie' with her footwork for a moment. "And that's a compliment, believe me!"
She chooses this time to strike, coming in low, but rather than attempt to strike him head-on Farah circles around, pivoting on one foot and then attempting to grab Denji's arm from the side, then shift her weight so that the mountain-bred fighter simply drops to the ground behind her... maybe it's his turn to end up on his back.
COMBATSYS: Denji interrupts Medium Throw from Farah with Shinrou.
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Denji 0/-------/---====|=======\==-----\1 Farah
Denji takes a few deep breaths as the girl recovers, huffing somewhat comically, as though trying to keep himself pumped up. But for all that the ex-recluse seems ignorant of how one ought to comport oneself in a public fight, the clash of their highly distinct styles has the audience of passerby transfixed; more and more have stopped to watch, are offering donations to the YFCC collection. Most likely the fighters themselves are in no state to pay attention, but their abilities, though perhaps amateur, have captured the viewers' attention.
Under these circumstances, Denji's idiosyncracies may actually be a plus.
"O, oh yeah?" he responds, his bangs parting about his eyes, which briefly lose their focus as he blinks. "I've never met anyone who fights like me either."
An extended pause follows. Denji's eyes narrow, as if trying very hard to remember something; for a moment he glances off to the side, as if searching for it in the margins of his world. Then the answer seems to occur to him, and brightening slightly, he looks back to Farah, offering a pleasant smile.
"Uh, I like your ribbon."
But the time for pleasantries is already over, and the girl is lunging for him. The sudden break between their friendly exchange and the onset of violence is no issue for Denji, though perhaps in an altogether different manner from his opponent: while Farah may be able to see a link between this physical clash and some emotional closeness, Denji simply responds swiftly to utterly divergent situations. He could probably carry on a conversation with a split-personality sufferer without batting an eye. For what that's worth.
In this particular instance, it's worth enough to save Denji's hide, for he reacts with an alacrity that belies the apparent drop of focus in his eyes: he snaps immediately back to attention and catches the girl as she seeks to circle around. As soon as she grabs ahold of his arm, Denji is stomping the ground with tremulous force, sending a quake within a short radius that wrong-foots the would-be grappler. "SHIN!" And as the initial strike knocks her out of her assault, the palm of his non-grabbed hand thrusts forward in a mighty aftershock, blasting her in the abdomen and flinging Farah away. "ROU!!"
Of course, she's still kind of holding on to him, so Denji doesn't get to look particularly cool-- as her grasp is ripped from his arm, he staggers with her momentum and briefly falls to his knees. Nevertheless, the damage has been done.
"Whew...!"
He's just relieved he didn't get thrown around.
...Hey, is she okay?
Highly unexpected, and a little unfortunate, but perhaps some tiny bit of Farah was ready for this one. Her footing becomes unstable after the sudden and quite surprising chi-induced quake, and that's all it takes for Denji to have his opening to quite literally blast Farah into the distance... if this were a more comedic setting she would be complaining to Meowth that they are blasting off again before vanishing into a distant twinkle.
As it is, she rights herself in midair before she can land in any serious hot water; the concussive force of Denji's strike was enough without having to hit the scenery at high velocity. There's a crunching sound of gravel as Farah skids to a stop in a crouch well and truly across the field from her opponent, who she is forced to look at with a surprisingly calculating expression, all things considered. She presses both hands into her stomach, palm-down, feeling a little bit of tenderness there, and while Farah herself isn't particularly fond of stillness, she really does need a moment to recover. She's been getting hammered pretty hard out there, after all, and there's no shame in reevaluating your opponent for a brief moment.
Plus it gives her a chance to talk to him, living enigma that Denji appears to be.
"Thank you," she says, holding up her beribboned hand to indicate what she's talking about in the first place. "It was a gift, actually." There's a brief second while she stands there, and despite her worldly appearance and friendly demeanor, Farah herself seems to be at odds for something to say too, before she coughs and gets back into her stance. "You make this all look so easy, Denji... thank you for the challenge of keeping up with you! I'm learning quite a lot."
~ You make it look easy, ~ the Egyptian's inner voice says, ~ but I bet it's not, is it? Something about the way you just burst into motion... there's something else there, I can feel it... ~
"Don't stop on my account," she adds, realizing she never attacked. "I'm ready when you are!"
COMBATSYS: Farah gains composure.
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Denji 0/-------/---====|=======\=------\1 Farah
Denji actually blushes.
"Who, me?" he replies, quite unnecessarily, even pointing at himself as though to be absolutely clear. "Ah ha ha," again that funny drawn-out laugh, not at all forced but sounding oddly as if it were learned by rote, "no way; you've nothing to learn from a guy like me." He pauses then, and reaches up to rub his chin again, apparently not at all averse to taking a little moment away from the combat. "Although," he then remarks, his tone becoming slightly more thoughtful, almost investigative, "there must be some truth to what you say. I'm only a man, but the power that flows through me is that of nature; I only channel it as makes most sense to me. I can't claim to do it justice." Modest words, perhaps, but his mien is not explicitly humble; his eyes, currently revealed, are narrowed. He is not so much expressing to her his preconceived conclusions as he is, on the fly, trying to understand her perspective in relation to himself. "If there seems any ease to my actions-- it must be the ease with which nature itself flows, and no feat of my own."
Denji is silent for a long moment, eyes still narrowed--
"Hmn."
--then nods again with finality, as though satisfied, and smiles.
But by the time he's finished figuring out what's what to his satisfaction, Farah is calling him out again, and he startles, hands whipping into the air as though attempting to catch something fragile he dropped. "Oh! Okay! Sure!" Suddenly we're fighting again! Denji is just fine with that. "Let's do it."
He lunges again, whipping out his arm as he plunges forth, but the chi that emerges shimmers more that it flows; though the same color as before, its substance appears vaguely mutable, the mysterious but vibrant ectoplasm streaking like flame. "KAGEROU!" He skids to a stop as he slashes out with that cutting flame, and then nimbly leaps back, leaving the fire to cross the brief distance between them, making both an aggressive attack and a kind of defensive wall, putting a shroud of chi between them to invade Farah's space while leaving Denji his own.
COMBATSYS: Denji successfully hits Farah with Kagerou.
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Denji 0/-------/-======|=======\====---\1 Farah
Ever heard the phrase "I can't even buy a break"? It certainly applies to Farah this fight. It could be a product of her intense curiosity about this most interesting individual, or it could just be an off day... everyone has them. Either way, while it doesn't keep her down *emotionally* Denji is doing a really good job of putting her on the mat *physically*. Deciding not to get fancy with the mountain-born youth's energy-tapping abilities this time, Farah moves her arms up into a defensive posture in a circular pattern, Baguazhang-style, her ribbon trailing accidental and intricate patterns as her arm moves swiftly.
Unfortunately, the emerald flame's path of attack isn't quite so linear as all that; it swirls about her and, Farah's power being of quite a different nature, quickly overwhelms her defenses, the stinging blow of the physical aspect of the attack a painful followup. Not knocked off her feet, this time, but certainly pushed both physically back, and to her bodily limits. ~ You wanted to test them, ~ she says to herself. ~ Well, they're bloody well tested, arent' they! ~
But she doesn't have it in her to frown. Some feeling deep inside suggests to her that she's going to see this man again in the ring someday, and when that day comes she's going to rise to the challenge, even if she loses. "You should give yourself more credit," she says to Denji, shaking out her hands before holding them in front of her. Sparks of starry night-blue Soul Power starts to flicker around the ribbon on her hand, then tails flowing out behind her with no real physical stimulus. "I mean, the way you describe it, it sounds like nature's doing all the fighting, and I don't quite believe that about you." Quite the contrary; with each blow, the ease of the strikes belies the work that goes into making them fit the situation. It's not... guts!-style effort. Something different.
~ Like a symphony conductor... ~
"Ready, Akiyama-san?" she asks, deciding to dip into the language of her new home. She doesn't wait for an answer, especially since she's pretty sure she knows the answer anyway. Making dancing motions with her arms, Farah suddenly seems to dance in place, arms and legs moving in intricate circles and patterns, the Soul Power-charged ribbon causing trails of cobalt blue light in the air. In fact, with arc of that ribbon, a sparkling burst of Soul Power spirals through the air at Denji in that same revolving, dancing pattern, five times over.
COMBATSYS: Farah successfully hits Denji with Heart and Soul.
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Denji 1/-----==/=======|====---\-------\0 Farah
"Y... You think so?"
Denji doesn't sound unsure so much as he seems surprised, as though it never occurred to him to ask where responsibility lay for the feats he's capable of. Certainly, what she says sounds very reasonable, and he reaches up to rub his chin again. It's not as though he considers 'nature' to be a kind of entity with a will of its own. But then, where do the spirits of his mother's temple figure into all this, as the arbiters of said natural will?
Such will he soon demonstrate, in actions if not by words. At the moment he has not the time to respond to Farah's intriguing proposition; her call to arms focuses all his attention immediately, almost taking on tunnel vision as he furrows his brow with intense contemplation at the oncoming assault. This-- now, this is something of a higher order altogether. Adrenaline surges through his veins, adrenaline and something else entirely; his whole body feels made of light. With greater swiftness than ever, already with room to maneuver thanks to his last technique, Denji, seemingly to instinctively grasp he cannot avoid the strike by fleeing, plunges bravely into the storm.
Their dance is breathtaking.
He weaves about her whipping ribbon, only barely avoiding the first burst of Soul Power and forced to roll to the ground to escape the second, but clearly moving forward, attempting to pass clean within her attack range and so force himself past the dangerous field wherein her projectiles can catch him. He leaps rather magnificently over the ribbon again, his legs lashing about as he contorts through the deadly vise that the innocent-seeming implement forms-- and only then does his luck run out. He lands nimbly, but not nimbly enough, the tip of the ribbon catching him and sending him staggering back with its enhanced force, just in time to eat the third, then the fourth, and then the fifth blast all in succession, until he finally collapses, flailing and nigh-on smoking with power, on his back.
He's never had such a splitting headache.
"Ugghhh..."
For a moment, his eyes seemed to turn the same starry-night tone of her own Soul Power; his jaw certainly slackened, at any rate, such that when he sits up he must, as unobtrusively as possible, wipe drool from his lips with the back of his hand. "Th, that was really something," he manages. "I guess I wasn't ready after all. Ha ha ha!"
Shoulders bobbing with that funny laugh, Denji gets to his feet, grinning despite his throbbing skull. "But..." Enduring, he brings his hands forward into a guard position once again. "Now I know."
And all at once he is moving.
It's time. The pain is swept away in a surge of energy, all of which gathers into his open palm. That green light seems to take on motes from his surroundings as he moves, hints of the grey of the street, of the blue of the sky. The mighty power channeled through him, building with his inexorable charge, comes to a head as, upon swiftly closing within range, Denji thrusts out his palm and cries out wordlessly, a massive orb of that sworling energy projecting forth.
It shifts, rushes in on itself, and then explodes out with full intensity, suddenly forming in the shape of -- of all things -- a giant boar, a great wild pig that soundlessly opens its maw and crashes forward as though to consume the girl, not so much swallowing her as transposing itself upon her to immerse Farah utterly in Denji's unrelenting energy.
"GREAT GUARDIAN!" he shouts, without entirely knowing why.
COMBATSYS: Farah reflects Hadou Ranki from Denji with Soul Reflect.
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Denji 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Farah
People looking directly at the fight probably have to turn away, as this pitched climax -- and it can be called nothing but -- flows into full swing. Denji is calling on something ancient, pervasive, and powerful... the very flow of life itself, and the multi-colored reflections of that in the air dance and swirl with the aftereffects of Farah's own attack, motes of white-blue dancing back and forth between them. As her dance swirls to a stop, the Egyptian smiles at her opponent... and though he doesn't know it, she was actually genuinely happy that he quite frankly was inches close to avoiding it altogether.
"I really think so," she says with a nod, as Denji collects himself. She really does. There is something masterful about it, as she reflects on the fight so far... an ability to turn seeming chaos into precise and powerful order, just long enough for it to be useful, and then letting the chaos reign again. Master martial artists talk about 'no wasted motion' in fighting, the idea that every movement of the body should be purposeful, directed, with no excess.
~ He just does it emotionally, ~ Farah decides. ~ He saves it up until he needs it. ~
The 'but now I know' is her warning, and if she had not heeded it, there's a very good chance Farah would be unconscious somewhere a half mile from here... as it is, her intuition pays off, her sense of what's coming. If Denji fights like a conductor, that was his hand signal for the crescendo.
He doesn't disappoint, and for the first time in the fight, Farah is not just impressed, but genuinely shocked at the spirit-beast that appears before her. The surge of emotion and power that courses through Denji is both unprecedented in this fight and her experience, and overpowering to the girl's extended senses. That he calls it a 'guardian' does not surprise her at all.
Her arm comes up, and the starry glow of Soul Power along the ribbon is visible. "Sorry, Denji, but... I have to try!"
The boar charges, and Farah whips her beribboned arm around in a wide arc in front of her, parallel to the ground. "Soul...!" Her other hand suddenly snaps the tails, drawing the ribbon into a taunt line, just before the emerald-glowing spirit beast slams into her defenses.
It's a good thing the *steps* aren't what needs repairing, because Farah's physically shoved backward a few feet as a result, her sandaled feet digging into the concrete slightly. Green and blue clash in spiralling motes of power as Farah attempts to hold the thing back... and from the gritting of her teeth, it's taking a phenomenal effort just to keep it from moving any farther forward than it is. ~ It's like... it's *alive*... but that can't be, can it...? ~
For just a second, violet eyes turn away from the boar and to her opponent. ~ Denji Akiyama... I'll show you something equal to this beauty you've shown me... ~
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaah... REFLECT!" In one final, terrible push, she lunges forward through the boar, sparks of chi and Soul Power combined trailing her as she finishes the arc of her swinging arm, the residual energy streaking toward Denji... lessened by her struggle, but enough to drive the point home.
Neither gods nor nature--
"...Huh...?"
--may stand against the human spirit.
Denji, having attempted to unleash the chi surging through him in all its fullness, finds himself locked in a battle of wills he never could have anticipated. Although for him it seems to occur at a distance-- having sent forth that energy, the great boar spirit it assumed the form of seems to take on almost a life of its own as it seeks to consume his adversary. Yet he feels the pressure it faces, and it causes Denji's brow to furrow beneath his hair, perplexed by this unexpected development. Only then does he feel it: she's breaking through.
And by the time he realizes--
"Gghahh!"
--it's much too late to act, if he even could have.
The bestial force erupts about his palms, its primal aftershock carrying with it shreds of Farah's own glittering power, interwoven with a blowback that has been turned entirely upon its initiator. Smashed back with energies no longer his own, Denji is flung away once more. Admittedly, he seems more stunned than injured by the result, but the monkish fellow has nevertheless suffered a fair amount of punishment in a short amount of time now, and so lies dazed for a moment.
"Ah... my guardian."
If there's any tone of regret in his words, it's really quite mild.
Denji manages to get to his feet, smiling lopsidedly, not so much out of any pleasure as out of surprised admiration and acknowledgement. "I think," he manages, clutching at his side as he regains his breath, "you're the most determined person I've ever faced. I'm... truly amazed." Now does not seem to him the time or place to ask from whence such conviction emerges, given what a personal question that can be, but that is precisely what is on Denji's mind -- and she strikes him now, all of a sudden, as precisely the sort of person he may have been looking for in coming to this city, the sort of person who may hold the answers to his questions.
"Ah ha ha."
A person with a reason to fight.
"Well," he adds, raising his hands palms forward, "I'd just surrender now, but after you put in that kind of effort, it doesn't seem too fair. Besides, all these people came to watch..." He seemed to have forgotten entirely about the audience, but at his mention of them, those who had been transfixed by the display of their clash stir and some of the younger ones begin to shout, encouraging the fight to resume. Soon most of the viewers are shouting and cheering, knowing at the end of the battle must be nearing, and Denji grins, reaching up brush his hair from his gaze to look clear-eyed upon his new acquaintance.
"Let's finish this."
He moves like the wind-- literally. The rush that follows him is like a forest breeze, and the motes of chi that trail him, in their verdant green, seem like little leaves shed by swaying branches. If he moves swiftly and artfully enough, he will sweep around Farah's defenses and catch her up in a one-armed embrace, spiraling up in the air as though buoyed by that wind before gripping her with both hands and throwing her, with bodily and wind-inspired force combined, back toward the ground, with all the hammering power of a driving rain.
COMBATSYS: Denji successfully hits Farah with Yokoburi.
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Denji 0/-------/---====|=======\-------\1 Farah
"No!" Farah actually appears thoroughly scandalized at the idea that Denji would *stop* after she (barely) conquered that attack, and it shows. She even brings a hand to her mouth after shouting that 'no!' in a very... loud, affirmative voice. The kind you use to tell the guy who's been shadowing you in the park at night that you know how to get police attention. After a moment of silence, she brings her hand down and smiles at her opponent, a little ruefully. "Ahem. Ahaha."
~ Like water off a duck's back, ~ Farah observes, watching Denji collect himself and get ready to fight again. ~ He rolls, and stands, and everything's normal again. ~
A tiny part of her is envious, but in her heart, Farah decides to turn that envy into resolve to perhaps be a little more like this amazing individual she met entirely by chance. ~ Rose... is that what you meant? ~ Images of the fortuneteller she met a mere one time, many years ago, suddenly fill her mind.
"If I'm determined, it's because I have to be to keep up with you," she says with a smile, getting into a ready stance. He's not done, and neither is she... not just yet, anyway. There's still the final stretch, just as he says. "Denji... let's meet and fight again someday after this."
~ I want to understand it all... whatever it is that happened here, I know it was good. ~
He charges, and Farah has a moment to admire the dance-like beauty of the wind-assisted movement before he suddenly has a grip on her arm. Grimacing, she attempts to twist free, but it's far too late for that; up they both go, and then down they both go, though not perhaps at the same time or in the same way. Farah lands hard; she's at the end of her rope when it comes to stamina, having given everything she had. Part of her wants to stay on the hard concrete and rest for just a bit, reflecting on what she's learned, but something in her marrow forces her up, body looking to eke out that last bit of strength before she gives in.
~ Not until i can't anymore, ~ she says to herself, wobbling into a fighting stance, to the surprise of the crowd. ~ One last go...! ~
She doesn't announce, or yell a kiai or anything. Instead she assumes a bagua stance and then moves toward Denji... not at a rushing speed, but a steady, sure speed, and when she gets close enough, her movements become more complex. Baguazhang is about moving in circles, flowing from one movement to another, and that's what Farah does; each palm or arm strike ends in a circular step that flows into the next, over and over again, one time, three times, her ribbon flowing out behind her in dancing trails, though it lacks the charged glow of Soul Power. A final seventh strike brings her carriage low, and then stepping away... but at the end, she drops to one knee, taking deep breaths. That's all she wrote.
COMBATSYS: Farah can no longer fight.
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Denji 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Denji blocks Farah's Tempest Flow.
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Denji 0/-------/-======|
Denji looks startled again.
"Uh--"
Having landed neatly upon his feet after his driving throw cast Farah back down to the earth from whence they came, he can see that the girl is now on her last legs, but does not yet relax his stance or his focus, all too aware of Farah's ability to push the last bit of energy out of a failing body or slackening spirit. Still, as adaptable as the young man seems to be, he's a bit taken aback at the girl's last friendly comment. He blinks beneath the curtain of his bangs, but before he can speak again she has risen and is moving sinuously toward him, her hands arcing in a complex interweaving.
Denji steps forward to meet her.
It cannot be a lack of confidence that causes him to hesitate when he speaks, because he displays nothing but seeming assuredness when he faces her assaults: not as though he has necessarily seen all this before, but as though he is guided by a power greater than himself. Each of her movements takes on an elemental significance, like an eddy in the ocean or a leaf in the wind, and each one he deflects as an element himself, a tongue of flame or a shield of ice. The audience sees only a phenomenal rhythmic display of strikes and parries, impressive enough from them both-- but for Denji, without reflecting upon it, it is as though the both of them are instruments of a wider world.
Only thusly does he understand.
Farah drops, and Denji places his hands upon his knees, hunkering down a little to catch his breath as the fight is called. Ignoring the appreciation of the crowd for the moment, the ex-recluse again reaches up with a hand to brush his bangs out of his eyes and looks at the girl directly, smiling despite his fatigue. "Uh, yeah," he finally manages. "That would be great. Uh, maybe we could meet, and, uh, do things. Like--"
Tragically, he lacks the time to elaborate; the announcer, now overenthused by the donations they've received and the -- to her -- unexpectedly gripping confrontation, grabs hold of Denji's hand and pulls him aside.
They appear to be discussing the matter of accomodations.
Ah, well...
COMBATSYS: Denji has ended the fight here.
Log created on 22:02:48 05/16/2010 by Farah, and last modified on 04:27:36 05/17/2010.