Description: Ash fights off some thugs. Megane, working for said thugs at the moment, attacks Ash, and is promptly beaten up.
Here is the lite version of Southtown's seedy underbelly. Accessible only by guarded alleyway entrances, the beginning or lower class criminal is more than welcome to participate in a variety of illegal activities, such as beating up children with the rest of the gang, theft and arson, petty drug squabbles, transporting or the 'hired goon' service. The police don't often get involved with the network and many, MANY subdivisions, because it's simply too much to handle, so many who start here are later recruited by less than savory types.
Ash Crimson, a slender, freckle-faced Frenchman, is fairly well-known amongst those at the bottom of the proverbial totem pole, or at least their 'bosses'. He once transported 'items' of interest, usually for immediate compensation, and was known to complete tasks quickly and efficiently... But eventually he started turning against those who hired him, beating them and their gang to a pulp on a whim. A man they just can't figure out, one thing's for certain... Ash is not very welcome here.
He's so unwelcome, in fact, that it usually means a fight's gonna start whenever he strays near the area, which has happened today simply by accident. But Ash is victorious. Like the BANDIT KILLER the flamewielder is, he folds his arms across his thin chest, brand spanking new jacket shifting due to his movements, staring down the length of his long nose at the thugs on the ground, "Saa, thought you'd get the jump on me, oui? I'm afraid you were very mistaken." He steps down on one goon's thick hand, blue eyes glimmering coldly, "Better luck next time?"
COMBATSYS: Megane has started a fight here on the left meter side.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Megane 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Ash has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Megane 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ash
A young man in a black trenchcoat wearing glasses(normal glasses, not sunglasses) has been watching this beating in the shadows. It's not hard to tell that this man's more skilled than the punks, even more skilled than him - but still, maybe beating up all those punks wore him down a little. Or maybe it just built up his super meter. Either way, looks interesting.
Megane steps out of the shadows, holding a rapier in each hand. "Excuse me, sir. People of that skill level really shouldn't be fighting someone like you."
He throws the sword in his right hand straight at Ash, blade-point first, then cuts the air in front of him, smiling slightly.
"Perhaps we could have a little duel."
COMBATSYS: Ash dodges Megane's Large Thrown Object.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Megane 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ash
If this were a court of law, Ash would be guilty of outclassing, and possibly also awesome. The evidence presented is critical to the case - the overweight goon on the dirty street whines/gurgles in a terrified manner, looking up at the flamewielder with his ugly face, eyes pleading for mercy. Crimson is not a cruel man by any means. Not when he deems it unnecessary, anyway. He graciously lifts his foot from crushing that fat hand, but crouches down, gripping the thug by the chin with a friendly smile, "Honestly though, I'd really advise against a 'next time', don't you agree?" Ash forces the larger punk to nod his head. "Good! I'm very glad we had this conversation, mon ami. You have a wonderful evening--"
...
Huh. Odd. That definitely doesn't sound like a groan of pain or frightened whimper. The Frenchman releases the thug, who creeps off with his creeping friends, disappearing like snakes back to the depths from which they came, and Ash straightens to his full height. Both hands slip casually into the pockets of his slacks, "Oh, are you with them?" He wonders rhetorically, head canting to the side, platinum blonde hair playfully tousled by a light evening breeze. If he is, then Megane must be something like a mid-boss! ... Talk about tiresome.
"You look rather young. Shouldn't you be at home in bed?" And then a rapier is hurled at him. Specifically, his head. The Frenchman's eyes widen at the accuracy of the throw, but really... This is nothing. He bends at the waist, comically, as if having spotted something incredibly shiny and fascinating on the pavement, only to stand up properly once the danger has passed, disappointed. "Well, Lunettes, if you're going to be like that, maybe I'll just put you to sleep myself."
He doesn't have time for this, but the guy will just follow him home. It's happened before. Best course of action is to just deal with things here and now. Hands still concealed, the effeminate fighter is suddenly charging forwards, twirling, bringing a potentially damaging elbow up with the intentions of knocking the young adult unconscious in just one blow.
COMBATSYS: Ash successfully hits Megane with Medium Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Megane 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Ash
"We're on the same street at the moment, if that's what you mean." Megane raises an eyebrow slightly at Ash's words. "You look rather old, shouldn't you be in a home?" He can't figure out any kind of comeback for the Lunettes line, though, and thus doesn't try. This is the downside of fighting foreigners; what's a 'Lunettes' supposed to be? He'll have to look this up later.
He raises his rapier to block with the handguard as Ash moves forwards, ready to block a attack from straight on - and then an elbow hits him from the side, and he stumbles backwards, spitting out a bit of blood.
"...Well, if you're not going to use a blade, it's hardly sporting of me to attack with such an advantage." He tosses aside the rapier, where it clatters on the pavement, and spirals his hands close together, unleashing a torrent of blades of wind chi directed at the Frenchman's legs as he takes another step back, this one more measured.
COMBATSYS: Ash overcomes Typhoon Execution from Megane with Ventose.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Megane 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Ash
Wait... He's not with those jerks? Then why exactly is the Japanese man attacking him? Because they got beat up, as they deserved, and the Frenchman is better? Where's the logic in that! Ash certainly has no idea! He's deeply confused, and as such, demands an explanation through blurting out, "So, what is this? Why are you even bothering?" Oooooooh, you did not just call him old, Lunettes. That's a crime punishable by only one thing: HUG--er, punches.
Committed to the action in a fight that is rendered pointless (according to Ash), his elbow slips past the guard, striking true, sending the younger fighter stumbling back. It doesn't knock him out, which probably would have been a more favourable outcome, but since Megane spits out a gob of blood, it's a testament to Ash's efforts. The fine bridge of the Frenchman's nose wrinkles as he withdraws, checking the sleeve of his jacket in order to ensure that it isn't tainted, his level gaze returning to the young man afterwards. Looks like it's time to take his leave.
Strides moderately spaced, his movements are made with the intentions of carrying himself to the very mouth of the alleyway, but apparently that's not allowed. He barely makes it five feet before his Frenchman senses are tingling, rapier tossed to the ground. One pencil-thin eyebrow quirks high, vanishing into the length strands of platinum blonde, and the wind chi is incoming. Lips twisting into an arrogant sneer, Ash can't help but think, 'Seriously?'
While the 'blades' are still some distance away, great gouts of veridant bubbleflame issue forth from his fingertips. "Come now, playtime is over." He cuts through the air before him in a grand gesture, crescent of green traced and hovering behind after his hand. The flamewielder follows it up with a second strike, and the two merge together, destroying or perhaps converting the wind chi to the cause, ripping across the limited space, boiling almost angrilly, if it were possible. With flourish, he captures a stray lock of hair and coils it tightly around a slender finger.
Ash doesn't like to use any effort when fighting punks, but attack him with something like that and it's game on.
COMBATSYS: Ash successfully hits Megane with Ventose.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Megane 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Ash
When asked by he's bothering, Megane shrugs his shoulders a little. "Why are you?" Seeing the flame burning back towards him, he shifts his feet, getting ready to jump out of the way, but he's not fast enough, and the bubble flame burns through the wind and sears his flesh. He feels like screaming, but instead grits his teeth.
Naturally, getting hit by the flame breaks his jump a little, and he leaps into the side of a trash can, both him and the can falling over onto the ground.
He blinks, staring upwards at Ash. "Hmm. Looks like I have to get serious." He reaches up to push his glasses up his nose, staring at Ash without emotion, absent-mindedly wiping the blood from his lips. "Want to make a bet on this outcome of this fight, foreigner?"
COMBATSYS: Megane calculates his next move.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Megane 1/----===/=======|==-----\-------\0 Ash
When the question is returned to him, thin lips split into a warm, pleasant smile. "Why not?" It's a beautiful smile worn to welcomes friends and family home for Christmas, or when greeting a lover after a long absence, but his eyes bear no emotion. In fact, the azure depths are a mirror reflection of Megane's, betraying him, twisting the saccharine sweet expression to appear condescending. Perhaps this is exactly what Ash wants? "Actually, I was about to leave, Lunettes, but then you had to attack me with... what was that? Wind?" Didn't work though, he observes with a measure of satisfaction.
Coiling the strand of hair even tighter around his finger, to the point where he may very well wind up cutting off his own circulation, his head turns and he longs to make an exit. Bah, what a nuisance. The kid's gonna be smelling like garbage too, knocking over the trash can like that. "What's the point of betting?" Ash says absently, dancing the very tips of his hair against a freckled cheek. His statement could also encompass the fight itself, too. "If you want me to even consider hanging around, I suggest you make it worth my while."
Also, being referred to as 'foreigner' leaves a foul taste in his mouth. Damn xenophobic Japanese. "Je m'appelle Ash Crimson." Whether or not it'll make a difference remains yet to be seen, but even 'Frenchie' sounds far better.
COMBATSYS: Ash takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Megane 1/----===/=======|======-\-------\0 Ash
"Exactly." Megane ponders this response for a moment. He really shouldn't do this, in fact, antagonizing this guy further seems like a really bad idea. But that's exactly why he can't let himself hold back. "...Wait, Ash Crimson?" He's not *entirely* unaware of the fighting world. Shit. Sweat begins to break out on his forehead, and although he smiles slightly, it's strained. "Am I supposed to be... impressed?"
He grabs hold of the trashcan with one hand, pulling his feet back towards his chest, rolls it over his upper body so the lid spills trash *beyond* his head rather than on it, and hurls the entire thing towards Ash, and attempts to use the half second this should give him to stand back up.
COMBATSYS: Ash blocks Megane's Huge Thrown Object.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////// ]
Megane 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\0 Ash
Know his name and fear. Or don't. Ash doesn't really seem to care either way what reaction his name garners, but it does bring him some brief amusement. He giggles girlishly, eyes closing momentarily, as the Japanese man attempts to be... patronizing? Well, that's what the Frenchman would call it. If his assumptions are correct, that choice that may be regretted in the very near future...
But not right now, because there's a trash can hurtling towards him. Damnit, the flamewielder just bought a replacement for his winter jacket after an unfortunate encounter with Hakan. The last thing he wants is to be covered in garbage!
His actions are driven by pure instinct. Without much room in the alleyway to maneuver, the hand pulls free from his hair and the other arm at his side lifts. The metal connects soundly with both palms, Ash catching the item with them, and the last of the contents dumping out onto the ground at his feet. "Disgusting." He mutters, attempting to block out the smell from entering his nostrils. "It's very rude to go throwing things like this at people, Lunettes." Yet the Frenchman doesn't take his own advice. Instead, he grips the can by the handle and chucks it back at Megane, quick to furiously wipe off his hands on his slacks afterwards. Ugh!
COMBATSYS: Ash successfully hits Megane with Huge Thrown Object.
-+- CALCULATED HIT -+-
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////////// ]
Megane 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\-------\1 Ash
"No more disgusting than beating up weaklings." Yes, Megane has just successfully used the distraction to stand up, and is now ready to face anything!
...Except a metal can hitting him in the face, apparently. He falls flat on the ground, and then rolls it off of himself, standing back up slowly, and lifts his fingers up to his now-cracked glasses, removing them from his face, and casting them onto the ground. "That hurts, you know. But... I think I understand your fighting style now. Prepare yourself." He rushes towards Ash, reaching out with his hand towards the Frenchman's neck.
COMBATSYS: Megane successfully hits Ash with Glasses Removal.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Megane 0/-------/---====|=======\=------\1 Ash
After grabbing ahold of Ash's neck, Megane places a foot behind one of the Frenchman's feet, and pushes his neck downwards, attempting to slam his body down into the cement, and then pummel his stomach as much as possible with both fists.
With the trash can slamming into Megane, Ash winces in mock sympathy. That looked rather painful! And gross. Hopefully he's not too injured, but if so, well... The kid was somewhat warned by his own instincts. Will the Frenchman be granted a peaceful departure now?
Continuing to fuss over the state of his hands, the flamewielder dust them against one another in the off-chance that there might be some grime leftover. He's so finicky, like an overgrown French cat, as Shenwoo so eloquently put it. Ash hates dirt and being dirty, though. It's a few moments before he's finally satisfied, standing at ease, arms drifting back to his sides. "I wonder how you can understand something you've never really seen?" His questioning reply doesn't require an answer, because it should be fairly obvious, in Ash's mind. Understanding something that hasn't been observed is nigh impossible. Megane must be a wizard!
Prevented from musing further, Megane darts towards him, hand extended. Ash had hoped that would be it, but at the same time, he's not really surprised. This could potentially be more entertaining than hucking garbage cans around now, but who's to say? He's not just going to stand there in the way, either. The closer the hand draws to his neck, the more the lean fighter visibly tenses, ready to spring. Unfortunately, when he finally does jump, it's a miscalculated effort and sends him right into the attack, which snags Crimson soundly. "Tch!" The Frenchman is left with no option at that moment but to brace himself for what comes next, and pray that it doesn't hurt too, too much.
Forcibly slammed down, his stomach is pulverized. Wait, no, that sounds too severe. Smashed? Whacked? Beaten? Hit lightly, as if by a girl? He's only a little winded and it stings, but the Frenchman starts to laugh as he's hit, "Is that everything you've got, Lunettes? Ne... joue pas... avec moi!" Hopefully while the other is distracted, seizing the opportunity, his aura flares impressively, and his fist comes from the side, which will knock the boy off him, should it connect.
COMBATSYS: Ash successfully hits Megane with Messidor.
[ \\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Megane 1/------=/=======|=======\==-----\1 Ash
As Megane pummels away with all his might, he answers Ash's questions. "You might not be using your real style against me, but knowing what you are using is enough." He can get a few more in, right? This much is ... wait, this guy is *laughing*? He's still doing better than he's done so far, so he's not going to stop punching, but it's not like he can punch any harder. "This is the current limit of my ability, I'm afraid."
And then Ash's fist comes up, smack his side, and knocks him into the wall. This is one of the downsides of fighting in an alley, and perhaps a reason to stop punching him earlier. Megane staggers to face Ash, repeats the circling hand motion he did at the beginning of the fight, pouring every last bit of energy into it, and sends another array of wind blades at the more experienced fighter. Many more of them, and faster, but it's not really *different*. That done, he slowly crumples down into a sitting position, his conciousness already fading.
COMBATSYS: Megane can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Ash 1/-----==/=======|
COMBATSYS: Ash dodges Megane's Hurricane Execution.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Ash 1/-----==/=======|
How peculiar. The current limit? Many fighters would lie, or force themselves to go the distance and punch harder than they've ever punched before, but the Japanese boy doesn't. He accepts where he's at in his abilities and doesn't attempt to push beyond them. That's honest. Also a blessing and a hinderance, some of life's few lessons to be learned in future. Ash is smirking amidst his laughter, soundly swatting the young adult away. He sits up afterwards, soon even back on his feet, brushing off the back of his coat as best as he's able.
Good thing Ash is so quick to rise, too. If the Frenchman was still on the ground, he wouldn't see the blades of wind coming.
Head snapping back, it's time to make use of his surroundings. Conveniently located right above him, there's one of those metal fire escapes with a pull-down ladder. Ash puts a foot against one nearby, upright and still full trash cans to give himself some added jump, leaping off of it to grab the steel ledge. He hangs suspended for a moment, then hoists his legs up, tucking both knees into his thin chest, allowing the odd chi to pass by harmlessly underneath. When it seems safe, he drops gracefully back down to the pavement.
"I hope this was your prediction." Ash says, referencing the earlier mention of betting, noting that this is likely the true end. He still doesn't quite understand why he was attacked in the first place, but c'est la vie. Megane did mention something about beating up weaklings, yet the Frenchman was horribly outnumbered. Hardly seems fair to pass such judgments when he was only defending himself. "It really wouldn't be wise to pass out here. There's..." The flamewielder pauses, licking his lips and trying to think of what exactly to call them, "criminals. They'll steal your money, and that's hardly the worst of it." If that's what the kid WANTS, though... Ash won't stop him.
COMBATSYS: Ash takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Ash 1/-----==/=======|
COMBATSYS: Ash has ended the fight here.
Megane struggles to keep his eyes open. "I was... ninety-three percent sure you'd beat me. But the more seriously I could get you to fight... the more I could learn from it." Of course, he is in cahoots with the criminals around here, but he's hardly going to mention that. Besides, it really could be dangerous to pass out, they might not be too happy about his failure. Against Ash Crimson. If they're jerks. Some people are, though.
But for the moment, there's something more pressing on his mind. "I'm curious.... 'The good you would accomplish is only more death. Destiny is only grand when it is fulfilled in its proper turn - else it implodes. Into metaphor.... Until you stop playing petty games and look inward, you will always fail in the end....'" He looks up at Ash blearily. "Do words like that make any sense to you?"
Although making such exact calculations is far beyond him - Ash being the sort of person to simply think in terms of 'I'm going to win' or 'I'm going to lose' - at least he now understands the 'why'. Also, if the flamewielder had known that this was a sort of learning experience, perhaps he may have revealed more! ... Nah. He wouldn't, because Crimson is a douchebag.
Bending at the waist, despite his lack of impressive height and limited light in the alleyway, the lean fighter's shadow still looms tall and heavily over Megane. "Ah, how philosophical." He says, amused, smiling brightly. The Frenchman cares so very little for it. "I believe the question is not if it makes sense to me, but do you want it to?" He actually stoops down further, crouching, head tilted gently to the side, "Maybe you should visit the hospital."
After that, Ash straightens, gathering his thin arms around himself, finally realising just how cold he happens to feel. "Ahaha, 'begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end; then stop'. Words like that are what should really matter. Sometimes we need to fail to succeed, sometimes it takes a few rounds to look inward. Isn't that the point? It's never the end until it's the end, and it's only the end when it feels right," He laughs again, the sound soft and musical, "I'm no good with any of this stuff, ha ha ha. Perhaps I've missed the point entirely." His smile transforms into a charming grin, which somehow seems to enchance his already feminine appearance. It's so rare when he'll actually engage in any sort of conversation like this.
Megane manages a slight smile at the hospital comment. "Maybe once I can walk again." He is silent for a moment. "No... those words I repeated didn't make any sense to me at all. What you're saying, I can undestand. I wondered if you thought similarly to that guy."
The slight change in demeanor doesn't go unnoticed, but it's natural to be friendlier to people who aren't currently trying to fight you, right? More interesting is the wrapping of arms around himself. Is he cold? He somehow didn't train for endurance against the weather, despite Megane's punches meaning nothing to him? Is Ash self-concious for some reason? ...Did those punches actually hurt a little more than Ash let on? ...Maybe it's just a habit.
Once again, the freckle-faced fighter is quirking an eyebrow. That guy? Just who are we talking about here? But before he can begin to mull over this, another thought intercepts the first: Does this really matter all that much? In the grand scheme of things, Ash decides that it's trivial, so his temporary curiosity wanes, leaving him with nothing but a perplexed expression fading away back into his jovial, carefree smile. He also shivers, attempting to snuggle into his jacket for some warmth. Endurance training for cold weather was not one of his top priorities, and even if someone attempted to condition him now, Ash'd likely reject their efforts. The cold is for suckers. He hates it (Crimson hates a lot of things). If it weren't for a bunch of goons attempting to jump him in this very alley, the Frenchman would have returned indoors far sooner.
The change in demeanor is entirely due to the fact that the flamewielder holds nothing against Megane, even after having a rapier chucked at his face. There's absolutely no reason for him not to be, so the platinum blonde-haired man says, "Well, you seem to be doing far better. Don't hang around here for too long, Lunettes." But really, it's your choice. Ash Crimson will certainly not stick around to help, because he's turning away with that parting, not-really-committed-to-giving-a-damn advice. Lifting a hand, he waves casually, then takes his leave.
Next time, the beating of thugs will take place in a more private - and hopefully inside - location.
Log created on 20:09:02 11/16/2010 by Megane, and last modified on 02:18:07 11/17/2010.