Description: Frei and Fei Long square off... while wearing shock collars. SNF is for masochists. (Winner: Frei)
All around the arena tonight are signs of the media blitz executed by Fei Long's company in tandem with Ken Masters'. 'Ancient secrets, hidden destinies. Fearsome battle and wicked betrayal. Project: RIVAL.' The as-yet-uncast martial arts epic is seeing plenty of press for the decision to cast real fighters in all the key roles, with critics on both sides of the fence about Fei Long's gambit. Only teasers of the plot have been released, of the exceptionally oblique variety. And the characters? Well, one can always see slowly expanding character bios online, such as Fang - a maladjusted young fighter with mysterious ties to a powerful organization. Also see concept art gallery: Fang's knives. Pages 1-40. In the arena tonight are snazzy shirts, hats, signed teaser posters, all sorts of fun stuff.
Appearing to both fight and plug his newest venture is the international action star Fei Long. Wearing the shock collar around his neck, he enters the ring somber, shirtless, and frowning. Frowning big. Hands trace the collar around his neck, and it looks for a moment as if the kung-fu expert might shed a single tear. Instead, Fei Long steels himself, draws a deep breath, and looks to the arena with new resolve, frowning even larger now as his bushy brows furrow towards one another, eyes narrowing. Waiting for Frei. Muscles tense, and the kung-fu star declares.
"Never has my speed been tested like this, but I will defeat this deadly countdown!!" A fist shoots in the air, much to the pleasure of the crowd, and Fei Long offers a lengthy peace sign, despite his 'predicament'.
COMBATSYS: Feilong has started a fight here.
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Feilong 0/-------/-------|
It's been kind of a rough week for Frei, though the story of those travails is best told in another time. Still, it's reassuring to him that he can walk out of all of it relatively unscathed, emotionally and physically, to show up here for SNF. As he walks the hallways of the Masters Arena, occasionally waving cheerfully to people who recognize him in the process, he is doing his best to look forward and consider his next moves carefully. Taizhou took its toll on him, certainly more than a few days of mayhem did. If nothing else, it proved that he still has much to learn. When he found out his opponent for this fight was Fei Long -- a fighter Frei had faced, casually, in a few previous bouts -- it was reassuring to him. Though the kung fu star is a flashy fighter, he also appears to have a low tolerance for shenanigans.
Stopping just before the arena entrance, Frei reaches into a pocket and produces a white envelope with a lurid red wax seal. For a moment, he stares at it, considering its implications. The last King of Fighters... didn't that end in Thailand? For some reason, fighting tournaments of that scale always seem to erupt in shenanigans, one way or the other... but Taizhou... well. It steeled Frei's resolve to continue serving as a sort of silent protector for people who have no expectation of such protection.
Still...
He finally does enter the ring, to modest applause. Over the years he's progressed out of being a relative unknown, but it's hard to fight Fei Long's star power. Still, Frei indulges in some fanciness once he gets in the ring, unslinging the wooden sword he had resting on one shoulder and giving it an expert spin before sliding into his back belt loops and falling into stance.
"It's been a while," he says to Fei Long, conversationally. It's possible with the amount of people he meets in his line of work, the rising star of screen kung fu wouldn't remember the comparatively forgettable Frei. The redhead winces a bit as the shock collar is slipped around his neck, making him swallow involuntarily. When it's settled, though, the young sage looks at his opponent carefully. "Good luck to you."
COMBATSYS: Frei has joined the fight here.
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Frei 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Feilong
Tough week, best way to work it out is with a tough workout. Or at least, that's Fei Long's general philosophy, and it's working alright for the Hiten-ryu creator. It's not just a martial art: It's a lifestyle! The powerfully muscled Hong Kong native flexes, grins at Frei, "I bet you're stronger still, now." He closes his eyes a moment, considers it. "Pity we have to rush this, but." A little showmanships goes a long way, sometimes. Despite the shocking impulses sent up the collar as the announcer countdowns to the fight, and the lights in the arena drop looow to show off the arcing electricity that runs through Fei Long's collar... soon to be followed by Frei's!!
Gritting his teeth, Fei Long charges his adversary (and the more accomplished ACTUAL vigilante, despite his world renown). "Luck and skill!" He concedes, launching Freiward with a fierce, loud, "Hhhhwaaaaaahhhh!!!"
Left foot snaps out first, the strike carrying behind it all of Fei Long's weight as he perfectly executes the remarkable flying kick. The bottom of his foot crashes in for Frei's chest, intending to use the contact (and his remarkable agility) to twist mid-flight, and axe a brutal secondary follow-through with his right foot arcing in for Frei's head.
COMBATSYS: Frei auto-guards Feilong's Engekishu!
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Frei 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Feilong
As if rising to show visually what Fei Long has suggested, Frei doesn't wait to be kicked; he surges forward to meet that incoming axe kick, actually flowing toward and around it with, if not speed, then practiced ease; it may be that in the end, Frei is at his best when he's back to not letting things bother him and just going with the flow. The follow-up kick he handles by stepping to the side, gently pushing Fei Long's leg in the other direction away from him before kicking off the ground and dashing past him, stopping in a crouch with his back to the Hiten-ryu founder.
Of course, it's as he stands up and turns around that the shock collar around his neck sparks white-blue and a jolt of painful electricity shoots through his body, making him grimace. That hurt... but it could have been a lot worse.
"Ngh... I'm sure you have too," Frei says back, which is probably the truth. Part of the sage wants to compare Fei Long to Alma, since both use what is ostensibly Hiten-ryu, but with a shake of the head, Frei realizes those two paths diverged long ago... and it allows him to better appreciate the pure essence of Hiten-ryu in the hands of its creator.
"I guess we've got some incentive to make this quick," he says carefully, before dashing back in at Fei Long in a low run close to the ground. When he gets reasonably close, Frei stops short, keeping his carriage low, and snaps one hand back. With a swift motion, he 'draws' the wooden blade from his belt loops, the weapon suddenly surrounded by a spiral of ice crystals dancing around it. The goal? To sweep the weapon right through Fei Long's legs, tripping him up.
COMBATSYS: Feilong dodges Frei's Unbalancing Draw.
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Frei 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Feilong
Symbolic, indeed. The impressive defensive display leaves Fei Long executing a single, fluid backflip that brings his feet back to the floor harder than initially intended. "Never stop training." Fei Long confirms, and dutifully advises, looking over one shoulder towards Frei's new location. His arms tense, the not-quite-physically imposing man looking a bit more intimidating when his whole chest and shoulders puff up like that, chi gathering within, an as-yet unseen furnace. "Quick indeed. We will have to face off again when we are not under such a brutal clock, but for the moment..."
As Frei comes in low, Fei Long leaps straight up, using the slight bend in his knees still present from his landing, from his frozen stance. The sword passes through empty air, and the kung-fu action hero leaps clear, landing clear on the other side of the arena in a similar, ready stance. That aforemnentioned heat builds, embers suddenly spiking as it shines behind the Hiten-ryu Dragon's dark eyes. Muscles ripple, breath fills him, tremors reverberate through the flexed action star's entire form, electric in the arena air. "HHhhhhhhhhhyyyyaaaaahhhh!!!!!"
COMBATSYS: Feilong gathers his will.
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Frei 0/-------/-------|====---\-------\0 Feilong
Twisting, Frei doesn't panic when he doesn't feel the wooden blade connect. Instead, he lets the arc of the strike finish its natural motion before hopping backwards, sliding the weapon back into place slowly. It looks a little goofy, considering it's not a scabbard it's heading back into, nor is it a live blade, but the red-haired fighter appears to treat it with all the solemnity if it were one. The aura of frost in the air, however, doesn't go away; he lets it slowly move from spiralling around the blade to forming a hovering frosty cloud around his hand. He does smile, a little. "Life is training, I think," Frei adds. "At least, events always seem to be teaching me about what I *don't* know."
He can feel the flame building within, as Fei Long taps his inner reserves. Not in the same way that a psion might; he doesn't sense Fei Long's emotions, but he does sense the ripple in ambient chi that such emotions in fighters can often cause. It's a reminder to him of his next training goal... one he isn't sure he's going to be able to accomplish.
The painful jolt of electricity, thankfully, snaps him out of the reverie before it becomes a liability in the fight.
"Let's see how hot that flame burns," Frei says carefully, making a sweeping gesture with that frost-chilled hand. The air around Fei Long, perhaps warmed by the Hiten-ryu fighter's spirit, nevertheless starts to perceptibly chill, the only warning of the sudden burst of frost that fills the air around him.
COMBATSYS: Feilong blocks Frei's Hatsuyuki.
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Frei 0/-------/-------|=====--\-------\0 Feilong
Zorch! The crackling electricity around his neck illuminates the shadows, and still the Hiten-ryu expert defiantly stands, refuses to cry out at the jolt. Instead, he focuses on Frei, focuses on the challenge in front of him. As it turns out, the flame burns quite hot indeed... but all that ice is still pretty damn cold. Fei Long tenses, braces as he feels it closing in. His own inner chi fights it, and there's actually a hiss as the chill frost contracts around him. It stings, it traces his skin and hair in places, but then he flexes outwards, as if breaking free of a cage with a load kiai. Eyes focus in on Frei, "That is indeed one task before the universe." He agrees. Then, Fei Long is gone.
More accurately, Fei Long is up, up, up. He launches himself in a blur skyward, and kicks back down in the same flash, leading with one foot in an alarmingly quick descent for Frei's temple, which may have an appointment with the action star's heel. Now, if only these damn collars would stop jolting him... Even if the audience -does- gasp at the sudden *CRACKLE* and brightness in the dark.
COMBATSYS: Frei endures Feilong's Chokka Rakutei.
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Frei 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Feilong
He really doesn't seem like the type that would try this sort of stunt, but as Fei Long descends toward him, Frei doesn't actually make to move or even seem to defend himself at all. The Hiten-ryu Dragon, who's made a career of this, probably realizes exactly what the sage is planning, but by then it's likely too late. The kick slams square into Frei's upper torso, the redhead having positioned himself just so. It's not about lessening the blow -- it hurts just as bad as if he'd taken it on the chin -- but rather than going down on his back in a heap as would be industry standard, he stays *right where he is*, upright.
In an interesting twist, it's not just the shock collar around Frei's neck that glows as he makes a move; the hand that comes up and attempts to snag Fei Long's forearm into a briefly immobilizing armbar is *also* crackling with lightning of the more chi-like variety, adding a shocking twist to an otherwise very rote martial arts technique.
COMBATSYS: Feilong interrupts Improvised Throw from Frei with Rekkaken.
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Frei 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Feilong
That Frei is coming right back in at him? Well that, Fei Long accepts as a given. Even if the kick -does- land solidly, the kung fu star is on his feet ready to move. Hands grip his arm, electricity jolts up his body, ripping through the muscles to his shoulder as he suddenly wills his other arm to move. Move his fist to Frei's face, that is, in a brutal and sudden uppercut before he can be thrown clear. His other hand wrenches free, and snaps straight into Frei's ribcage. Electriciy. MORE of it!! Et tu, Frei? Then PUNCH, Fei Long!
He does just that, and with a mighty "HHHH-waaaaaah!!!" his other fist comes around again, meaning to knock Frei rather abruptly clear. All three hits come in a flash, one after another with little room to breathe, driving his opponent back with a rather fervent force behind it. Because hell, he -is- getting jolted by way too freaking many volts of electricity every time he thinks it might have stopped for a little while.
When presented with less than no time to react, what can you do? Sit there and take it, whicih is exactly what Frei does. Fei Long didn't get where he is in this business by not striking while the iron is hot, and so Frei has the briefest of seconds to try and swing his arms in the way of the blows, but it's far too late by the. One, two, and then a final fiery punch to send Frei sailing back a few feet to land on the polished wood floor on his back, the wood squeaking a bit as he slides across it. Well, that's what you get for being fancy, is the thought he lets roll around in his head for now. Sometimes simple is best. "I guess I deserved that," he says with a rueful smile, getting to his feet. "A lightning attack is probably insult to injury in this situation, huh?"
On cue, the collar shocks him, forcing another wince. The pain is bearable, but constant, and he's taken a hit or two more than Fei Long at this point. Can't keep it up forever.
Deciding not to attack, Frei steps back and brings his hands up in front of him, slowly breathing out. The air around him stills, whips into brief motion, and then is normal again... the only sign that he is doing his best to attune himself to the energy around him and draw strength from it. "But that's not enough to put me out just yet."
COMBATSYS: Frei gathers his will.
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Frei 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Feilong
"It is a fist fight." Fei Long points out cheerfully, eyeing Frei carefully as the sword-monk recovers. "But I'd be lying if I said I wanted to be..." *ZZZZT* "Nnrn... zapped any more!" The amount of energy Frei gathers is impressive indeed. The Hiten-ryu expert can feel it gathering, in addition to seeing the powerful motions executed by his opponent. One thing's for sure - Frei has been practicing! Not that it makes Fei Long hesitate. Instead, he seems inclined to throw himself even more fully into the fight.
His attacks are savage, a flurry of practiced strikes each launched within a fraction of a second. A potent straight into an opposite, crossing elbow, a low, angled strike aligned for the lowest central point on the ribcage, then that elbow comes back up, seeking Frei's chin. All of it is accompanied by an exhilerated, energetic series of vocal kiais.
COMBATSYS: Frei interrupts Fierce Punch from Feilong with Shindou.
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Frei 1/-------/=======|=======\==-----\1 Feilong
What results from Fei Long's concentrated assault is the sort of high-dexterity close fighting that the fans really respond to... and these fans are no exception. They roared approval at Fei Long's deft strike past any hope of defense on Frei's part, but now it's the chi sage's opportunity to turn the tables. The first straight punch slams into the redhead unimpeded, but with a swift move of the hand Frei pushes the elbow aside, and when it extends upward for the final followup, he grips one hand solidly on Fei Long's forearm. Perhaps there is a little bit of showman in him; he's not one for kiais, but his friendly-looking features take on a slightly impish tone as he says one word: "Gotcha."
And then the Hiten-ryu Dragon's body is swinging through the air, moving in a clockwise circular pattern before Frei lets go of his arm, popping Fei Long into the air. However, as would be expected of the chi expert, there is a second stage to this attack. Fists shimmering with the chi of the earth element -- hazy fields of raw concussive force -- come up, crossed at the wrist, and as Fei Long falls back almost into Frei's grasp, he opens his palms wide, releasing the stored energy and sending the kung fu master back across the arena floor.
COMBATSYS: Frei has left the fight here.
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Feilong 1/-----==/=======|
The sudden upsurge of chi catches the Hiten-ryu Dragon in the midst of his onslaught, and he's hurled free - then rather effectively blasted, launched back the way he came. Fei Long hurtles end over end and into the reinforced wall of the dojo arena. Groaning low already, Fei Long's collar gives off another shock, drawing a wince from the kung fu star before he kicks back to his feet. "Not yet!" He protests rather enthusiastically, charging right back at the skilled swordmonk.
This time, the flurry comes courtesy of his feet, voice loud and proud as he kicks in quick succession, launching repeated, roundhousing kicks for Frei's head with an alarmingly aggressive momentum. Still, the control behind the all-out attack speaks to Fei Long's own abilities and practice. Not to mention his desire to step this up a notch so he stops getting, well, electro-shocked.
COMBATSYS: Frei dodges Feilong's Rekku Kyaku.
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Frei 0/-------/-------|=======\===----\1 Feilong
Something about the situation appears to be heightening Frei's reflexes, a little bit. It may be that the constant low-level pain of the shock collar puts into stark relief the much greater pain that an expert fighter like Fei Long is capable of delivering. Either way, as the Hiten-ryu fighter resumes his assault, the redhead's eyes seem to glass over a little, as if he were letting go of his conscious mind and acting more or less on instinct... which, in truth, is basically what's happening. It's not the sort of 'aggressive' dodge that quicker, more agile fighters can accomplish; with each kick, Frei loses ground, driven back toward the wall of the dojo, but the onslaught of roundhouses sweep just past him with each movement, the blows just shy of landing, slicing the air between the two fighters by mere millimeters.
With one final hop backwards, Frei comes to a stop just after Fei Long does, his hand coming back up into position as he slips back into a fighting stance, taking a few deep breaths and then grimacing as the shock collar kicks in on schedule. "Training..." he says, as much to himself as to his opponent. "Gotta think of it as training." Of course, it's not clear if he means the collar... or the attack he makes, not wanting to stay on the defensive forever. He makes a quick surge forward, hand dropping to the 'hilt' of the wooden blade even as Frei drops low, looking to hook his leg through Fei Long's to drop him to the floor; as the spin ends, Frei twists his body and performs another sword-drawing technique, the wooden blade blazing with crimson flame as Frei attempts to hammer Fei Long into the ground with it.
COMBATSYS: Feilong fails to interrupt Close-Quarters Draw from Frei with Ryu Hassai.
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Frei 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Feilong
Conversely, Frei's grasp of the fight flow seems to draw it from Fei Long - at least for these vital moments. The shock at his neck, the able, surprising defenses executed by the sword-monk, and the action star has a bit of trouble keeping up with the sudden shifts. Settling back into a ready defense as he finishes his attack, Fei Long - undaunted - prepares another. It's about this time that his legs are swept out from under him. He drops to the ground in a crouch, hard, and then... well.
The flaming bokken descends with a loud thonk and smacks the Chinese martial artist into the hardwood floor, making a very gratifying thunk of his own. "G... yes... training." Comes a muffled agreement, before Fei Long begins the process of pushing himself back up off the ground, his own fiery chi largely lost to the ether, its summoning not fulfilled. Hands tap dubiously at the collar, but he does not tamper with it, merely frowns... at the four different Freis there as he tries to find his footing.
He's not usually one for the dramatic, but a fight of this caliber tends to bring it out in Frei... perhaps some latent thing he buried a long time ago. The bokken, trailing remnants of flame, makes a complicated twirl in Frei's hand before he slips it back into place, breathing out. It's taking all of his energy to keep focus in this fight, that much is clear; his past fights against Fei Long have been very challenging indeed, and this is no different. For a second, his hand comes up and fingers the collar around his neck a bit, grimacing at even getting a spark off it, wearing a frustrated expression at the chafing of it around his neck. "It'd be nice to have a rematch someday without these," he says to Fei Long with a rueful smile. "But I guess that's the schtick on Saturday Night Fights, right?"
For a second, he considers taking the thing off, having been told beforehand that it'd do the same for Fei Long, but in his heart, the sage has the inkling that the movie star fighter might view that as a bit of an insult... a feeling that, a long time ago, Frei might not have understood, but now, at least, he gets.
"Ready?" he asks of his opponent, giving him a moment to prepare, Frei's hand once again dropping to his side in that sword-drawing stance. "Here we go." Kicking off the ground, Frei dashes at Fei Long with as much speed as he can muster, and when he gets close, his hand closes around the hilt of the wooden sword and swings it in a wide, parabolic arc. Silver-gold energy streaks behind the blade in a line with a metallic sheen, and if the attack strikes home, it makes a ringing sound like a tuning fork being struck.
COMBATSYS: Feilong interrupts Houken from Frei with Shien Kyaku.
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Frei 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Feilong
COMBATSYS: Feilong can no longer fight.
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Frei 0/-------/---====|
"Definitely." Fei Long still agrees with that, even bloody and blurry-eyed. Still, he's not quite as conversational with head ringing and skin scorched, his focus fully on the attack Frei prepares. He's not /fully/ on his feet, but nods readiness anyway. It proves to be something that the Hiten-ryu expert at least mostly foresaw, as well. Not that he could have predicted the force of the impact itself. The single note rings out in vibrational harmony, but it's not alone. There's a second that comes as Frei is struck at the same instant.
Fire leaps along Fei Long's legs, his crouch suddenly unfurls throwing him /into/ the monk's assault. He flips, kicking upwards as he goes, that molten flame surging along his limbs like it were carried by napalm, rushing into and onto anything it can touch, while leaving the kung-fu expert's very nice, baggy pants untouched. "HHHHHHYAAAAAH!!!" the kick carries both skyward, sending Frei one way, as Fei Long flips the other.. and lands, hard and rather out of control, on the ground, planting face first into the wood before his collar can give off another jolt. Though, it does anyway. @$*&@$*&.
If you're going to make a last stand, you could do a lot worse than Fei Long's final blow; it's delivered with such speed that any sort of reaction to it is totally impossible. The fiery kick lifts Frei off his feet easily, sending the sage sailing through the air away from his opponent to slam back down onto the dojo floor with a loud *WHAM!* noise, the wooden sword clattering to the floor beside him. He didn't land any better than Fei Long did, but Frei has just enough energy left in him to reach out, grip it, and then use the blade to prop himself up. It takes a second, but in the end, the redhead manages to get to his feet.
The crowd cheers for both fighters, and once the announcers are done, a team comes out with the keys to unlock the collars. Frei, being up and around, is their first target, but he waves them off, inclining his head at Fei Long. The collar gives him one last shock but, as both fighters in this bout have proven, dignity is often worth more than a moment or two of pain.
COMBATSYS: Frei takes no action.
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Frei 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Frei has ended the fight here.
Log created on 21:18:59 10/18/2010 by Feilong, and last modified on 15:47:52 10/21/2010.