Description: Gato finally manages to get a fight with Billy... and gets the second most brutal beatdown of his life. However, the questions he had in challenging the top in the world have finally been answered, and he knows what he must do!! (Winner: Billy)
Warriors come in many shapes and sizes, walk many different paths. One man's creed may be diametrically opposed to another-- and yet they share a common ground between them, an innermost desire for battle that trancends any purpose they might purport to possess. This can be staved off only so long as the will allows it. Men like Sagat, the honourable Emperor of Muay Thai once fallen and twice risen, have such strength of character that they can refuse even the worthiest of challengers - and cease to even seek the fight, focusing instead upon some intangible sense of enlightenment. Upon what they consider 'good'. Others are not so sanctimonious.
Billy Kane's induction into the world of professional fighting came about because he was a thug, plain and simple, a tenacious and bloody-minded scrapper plucked from the rough and formed into a jagged diamond within the crown jewels of a better man. His rise to prominence came in part through sponsorship, but primarily because he'll never /stop/ fighting-- all the wealth in the world can't make a decent man out of Billy. Beneath the ruggedly jovial veneer, he craves pain and the causing of it. Would even if it wasn't his job.
It's no more complex than that, save in irrelevant details. Fighting leads to success, sure, but the ultimate purpose is that it fulfils the need for the once-scrappy underdog to feel /alive/. Which is why his ambitions have led him back to the circuit that saw him rise to fame as the first King of Fighters champion. Times have changed, and yet nothing really has; Masters' Neo League is full of desperate, hungry and talented kids eager to make a mark, to feel and give pain, with a circling pack of older vultures too skilled to prey on the tiny, helpless puppies of the Developmental league. There's an idea that made Billy scoff...
Quite unlike the anticipation he derives from hearing of one Gato Futaba.
Rumours abound of holes punched through lesser men, of women lying despoiled in smoking craters following a mere, casual out-thrusting of the Chinese fighter's calloused palm. Billy likes what he hears, which is why he's spent approximately zero point zero seconds bothering to research this further, instead calling his agent - one Bethany Cale - and having her tell her people to set up a meeting. Somewhere pompous traditionalists would like, somewhere where he'll be utterly out of his element, somewhere where he can break things and piss a lot of people off; but not so much that he doesn't become a hero to disenchanted punk kids the world over.
Southtown's dilapidated Buddhist shrine was just about perfect.
Which is why Billy Kane is there right now, standing by one of the outer walls surrounding the shrine approach. The Syndicate punk is clad in an expensive leather jacket over designer jeans and heavy work boots, one thumb hooked through the waistband of the former as he swings his iconic crimson bo in the other. The weapon is in full staff formation, working like a handy-dandy baseball bat cum sledgehammer as he uses it to smack ancient, crumbling bricks to dust one by explosive, offensive one. It's bound to draw ratings, and if he's really lucky it might just draw Futaba's stern ire. He's at least pretty sure that the girl by the same name has a documented history of being put out by such confrontationally sociopathic actions...
It's probably a Japanese thing. Stupid bloody Nips.
It was not easy to manage a fight with Billy Kane. Although he might be something of a sadist, he is also a discriminating one, and apparently unless one was female he would not give in to being hassled. So instead of just repeatedly challenging Billy through the league channels, he also bothered to punch the hell out of the majority of competition, only barely losing to Adon in a situation that could hardly be described as traditional. Yet after being denied battle by Sagat, the eldest Futaba is more then a little bitter when things are finally set up. He is well aware that Billy stands at an entirely different tier, having countless years of experience on top of his one in a million talent. Gato may have dedicated himself to martial arts, but until recently he has simply not exposed himself that fully to competition. A crippling flaw, the depth of which he is beginning to understand.
His approach is a touch lackluster by most accounts, striding into the enclosed shrine with his yellow cheongsam fluttering in the early afternoon breeze. There's a dark sort of intensity to him, and he has the bearing of one likely more capable then he is; for the destructive force prevalent within the vengeance obsessed man is no inferior to Billy's own. If Gato's fists can reach Billy Kane, then he will not be able to ignore it. A distinct difference between him and other underdogs... very dangerous to play around with.
Only after settling opposite does Gato give some attention to Billy's restless destruction. He knows the man well. Growing up, he was a public name. Famous and powerful, although with a crude manor he never respected. Like a successful heel, where multiple successes somehow added to the terribleness of things. Yet there's also something obvious. An anger, a barely hidden emotional vulnerability perpetuated since Adon's conflict. But one would need to be a complete horse's ass to try and prey upon it. Right?
Kane's own quest, at least upon the surface, is one steeped in the lucrative heat of media recognition. A 'successful heel' indeed, the obnoxiously powerful Brit has forged a name in quite literal fire whilst fighting his way past a hundred thousand flashing cameras. It's always been about survival, to him; and surviving in this predatory world means possessing money and resources as well as strength, particularly when one is desperate to pull another being along with them. That particular common ground he shares with Gato may never surface, because it so rarely factors into the public persona Billy has cultivated, but he's fighting not just for himself. He's fighting for his sister. But that darkness with Gato, the other thing they may seem to share?
For Billy, it's business. That thuggish mien, derived from the harsh streets as a child, is no lie - an honest reflection of at least part of who he is - but there's nothing more dangerous in it than the surface represents. Cruel by his nature as a beast, a pack animal snapping and lashing out to defend the sole remaining member of his pack, what the Syndicate enforcer isn't is a man toying with internal conflict. When he stops fighting, when he returns home, his life is as settled and easy as anyone else's. On the other hand...
This doesn't mean he's not drawn to it. Tales of Gato's fearsome prowess ignite a passion that's as far removed from the media spotlight, and from Lilly, as anything could possibly be. The warrior spirit within Billy burns as fierce as his infamous flames, and he'd be lying - God forbid - if he were not to admit that there's something about the kenpo-ka that plays on his own fears. It's exciting, facing one purportedly so savage and intense, who smolders with a heat quite unlike anything Billy himself possesses. Oh yeah, he sees it alright.
"Well, well, well."
But he's not about to show it. That thick Cockney drawl is as cocky as the easy, nonchalant power within his motions as he swings his rod through one last explosive gout of ancient brick dust, before shouldering the weapon. Keeping the other hand through the hoop of his jeans, he leans back into his heels, making a great show of sizing up this like-sized warrior in his formal cheongsam. That stern stare is met with eyes that hold an inner, unrestrained wildness only the most comfortably animal of people ever maintain - even behind the cocksure act, it's a reflection of who Billy is - as the punk clacks his tongue against his teeth.
"Little birdies tell me you're a bad man, Gato Futaba. A very bad man." Thin lips pulling to a savage grin, the Londoner pauses a moment, as if allowing both his opponent and the rolling cameras to question whether he really is enough of an ass to continue... and then, naturally, he does. "But I'm aimin' for the bloody top, an' you're in my way. 'ow about you show me those fists o' yours... then I'll show you 'ow a real man 'its?"
Suddenly he's spinning that staff around, bringing the crimson tip harshly downward as he falls into a battle stance. That low wall remains between them, and another brick is struck-- seemingly without force, though it bursts into sharp fragments all the same. Billy grins all the wider.
"If you couldn't beat that broken, bloody jaguar, you won't get through me, mate."
COMBATSYS: Billy has started a fight here.
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Billy 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Gato has joined the fight here.
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Gato 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Billy
If these two men were in a different situation, they might find they get along. After all, both are monstrous individuals primarily as a sacrifice to family they love, if they would never acknowledge such in any fashion. What truly separates them is that although they both descended to the realm of a monster... Billy is suited for it. An aggressive, dangerous man who flourished in the very same life that is instead destroying Gato.
Yet Gato's easily fired arrogance has been lessened as a result of Adon. He lit the deeply rooted oil and caused the fire to blossom. But afterwards, that makes it harder to force the intensity to burn brighter. Simply standing there before Billy's acknowledgement, head slightly lowered and arms loosely hanging at his side. His eyes do narrow when his last name is mentioned, however. He had attempted to keep such secret, although it is truly no surprise the other man found it out. The whirling staff is given the cautionary observance it deserves, before Gato slowly shifts into a stance. Left arm near his ribs, the other held out. It is both flowing and uncompromising. Immobile but free. Truly embracing Kenpo with a mastery few could rival. In terms of dogged martial pursuits, he may very well be no inferior to Billy. But fighting is much different then that.
The former King of Fighter has a peculiar stance. It seems carefree and mocking, but the center of gravity and dynamic motion is evident to Gato's eyes. "I am not interested in your words." he states out, voice a stern baritone.
Why is he here now? To measure himself. To see his distance from the top of the world, where Billy can make a legitimate claim. Eyes burn with both passion and willpower. There is no mistaking it; that darkness within him is not, at the moment, making him any weaker. Although it is unstable and wild, it is within a vessel that could turn it into monumental destructive force. If Billy shows his throat to this beast, he will go for it, with neither mercy or hesitation...!
COMBATSYS: Gato focuses on his next action.
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Gato 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Billy
Despite his wealth of experience and the training of a mentor many would call the greatest martial artist in the world... Gato's observance is apt. Billy Kane fights with the air of an untrained tough; crude and listless, uncaring of either proper form or gracious etiquette. It's an echo of the man he was, and remains beneath the riches and the infamy, but more than that-- as his formidable opponent notes, it's a shroud. Concealing the refined technique that drives and empowers the enforcer's every motion. His approach is somewhat naturalistic, but he remains on the very peak of absolute mastery; and that can never truly be effortless.
"No," Kane responds to Gato's own words as he watches the Japanese man with idly analytical eyes, noting the inherently graceful power in his style through the stance alone. Inner strength is something few understand, let alone embrace at this level, that internalized form of movement that utilises every muscle at every level. Futaba demonstrates it seamlessly, so much that few would ever notice. But Billy trains almost daily with one who is beyond mere mastery in that area, who is close to transcending what mere men are capable of. It's what makes him snort a laugh as he finishes, "I don't reckon you are. So why don't we both shut our traps--"
Suddenly he's moving, closing into his left hip as the right foot darts forward. A boot tip brushes the low wall as Kane sinks his weight into it hard, throwing - as Gato, too, assuredly would - every available muscle in his body to the motion that ensues. The staff, already raised, is released from his left hand's grip to fly with practiced ease through the loosened grasp of the right. Calloused fingers close hard before it can escape fully, at which point the rod's tip is but inches from impacting Futaba's stern mouth.
"And /BURN/!!"
The grin on Kane's lips is astonishingly nothing compared to the gout of explosive, unrelenting chi that jolts brutally from around the tip of his weapon. Its fiery apparition masks the extension of the rod, a link two thirds of the way up neatly springing free to send the final third blasting forward on the waves of punishing napalm flame. Energy and physical force combine to the momentous strength of an oncoming bullet train, as Billy immediately seeks to test that beast's resolve to the limit. It sets the tone. He won't hold back. Ever.
Men like these never do.
COMBATSYS: Billy successfully hits Gato with Blazing Cane Thrust.
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Gato 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Billy
Watching Billy closely, Gato is able to recognize the motion that is thrown. A burst of willpower, pushing his body beyond the limits, is dedicated to him hurtling sideways, trying to get clear of that blazing staff heading towards his direction. Oh, he was close. That might be an impressive thing to note in it's own way. But close is simply not enough, when you are against fighters of this level. The absolute eruption of chi sends Gato flying backwards like a rocket, bouncing off the ground before hitting the sizable wall himself, shattering it and half-burying him in a cascade of ancient stone. Only staggered for a moment, he bursts upwards, coughing up blood and grasping his shoulder; he was not directly hit in the face, but any point on his body is ultimately the same. Hardened flesh is bared, blackened yellow flaking off like snow.
Ryu did not hit him that hard in the entirety of his conflict. So he was indeed only playing around. Somehow, that is more infuriating then the ridiculous ease that Billy used to nearly entirely remove him as a threat. Still no words, however. And the resolve within Gato's eyes is no lesser, even in the wake of Billy's masterful display of power. He bolts forward, running low on his tiptoes. Before stamping upon the ground and launching skyward. Yet such turns out to be a feint; in a blur of motion he descends, landing with a heavy impact right in front of Billy, the old ground sinking an inch beneath.
His left hand raises, and right slowly rotates, as breath exhales. Every aspect of his being is devoted now to a sudden, intense strike outwards with his open palm, aiming to nail Billy right in the sternum, trying to simply overpower any defense with raw determination. And assuming he is not intercepted, he would kick forward into another powerful thrust of the attacking arm, trying to send him flying backwards!!
COMBATSYS: Billy counters Shin-Ga from Gato with Water Dragon Pursuit Cane.
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Gato 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Billy
As though merely striking that brutally hard in the open face of an impending conflict were not enough...
Whilst Gato is occupied pulling himself upright, Billy actually laughs. It's a nasty sort of chuckle, nasal and smug as the Londoner retracts his striking staff with another seemingly careless spin. Around his leather-clad torso it wraps, a crimson blur only settling once the man has leapt lightly over the semi-demolished form of the temple wall. He doesn't sink back to his stance, however, going so far as to disassemble the weapon with a twitch of his wrist, a low flourish capturing all three portions of the rod within his palm.
Those faintly crazed eyes observe his opponent, watching the ensuing charge as though it were the furthest removed thing in the world, as though this were no more than some silly game. Because Kane wasn't impressed by the way that struck, nor by the blood spattering Gato's lips... so far, the man is is a disappointment. During the final approach, he even finds time to take a swaying, confident stride forward, all but throwing himself to the wolves as the brutally-striking palm closes for the bare flesh of his sternum. His jacket parts with the intense pressure, rushing out to either side as though caught in the most powerful of winds--
And only then does Billy show he's in any way prepared for action. It's alarming how fast it happens, the hand bearing that broken three-section staff interposing itself, twisting outward in a mockery of Gato's own preparatory efforts. Collapsed crimson meets honed callouses, the struggle brief and actually - to the Japanese warrior's credit - sending Kane skidding backward, boots tearing twin furrows in the earth.
"Is that it?" He grits past clenched teeth, as Futaba follows up - seeking to plow through him, to return the favour of those dissipated flames - and Kane simply flicks his wrist, a snapping motion sending the two end sections of his namesake spiralling out to either side. Before Gato can hope to strike, his chest is met by a thunderous collision of polished, fire-hardened wood, the staff seeking to crack ribs and crush the lungs behind; but Kane isn't done, not with this disappointment of a creature. "Seems I need better sources, mate."
His words callow and insulting, he steps forward, pushing Gato with him as he sweeps his forearm around to retract the staff's striking end and bring the second around in a cleaving overhead swing. Despite the angle, it's designed to miss the scalp-- instead cracking with horrible power against the bridge of Futaba's nose. There's so much strength behind the blows, so much practiced power and perfect technique, yet Billy seems to be more interested in embarassing this man than giving him the promised fight. His lips curl in derision.
"You pathetic nonce! You couldn't beat my little sister... don't bother getting up."
To Gato's credit, he remains on his feet. The exchange is brutal, both in the technique and the result. Skidding backwards a good three meters, Gato sinks down slightly, catching himself with a hand. Two... no. Three ribs cracked. It seems raw strength is not sufficient to overcome either those defenses or that long staff. This leaves him completely open to the following overhead arc, somewhat duly realized before the world turns into a haze of pain. It feels like ages, but Gato was only on his back for a second before knees come to his chest and he almost violently kip-ups back to his feet. He is panting heavily; two solid blows almost taking him down. However, it is enlightening in more ways then one. Ryu may have been holding back... but Gato was able to damage him significantly. And two... he survived. When he last battled his father, it had ended in one brutal strike to his back.
"Hnn. I see." Gato remarks, breath coming in heavy pants, blood gushing from his misshapen nose. The darkness within him is finally embraced once more; flooding the serenity he began the fight with, and causing a sudden spike in his already violent chi. "I still cannot reach you..." Stated in a reasonable fashion. It is one thing to bait him with words then run around like a clucking chicken, as opposed to brutally putting him in his place. One he respects rather more then the other, especially when he is certain the opponent is an inferior.
And then he steps forward, raising his left hand. "Then... I will simply... strike harder!!" Muscles bulge suddenly, veins prominently displayed upon already steel muscles. His eyes widen, Gato stepping forward and throwing his entire body into the following motion. It might be underestimated; it looks little different then the assault he just threw. But an explosive contraction of muscles suddenly sends the heel of his palm shooting forward with much greater speed then the listless startup hinted, once more aiming to impact Billy head on. The air explodes around him from the displacing force, kicking up a massive plume of dust and debris simply from the act of striking out...!!
COMBATSYS: Billy endures Gato's Mou-Ko Kou Hakan.
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Gato 1/------=/=======|=======\=------\1 Billy
A man like the former World Warrior may be willing to stay his hand, to deliver an act of mercy even when faced with such a proud martial artist as Gato Futaba; but even beyond his scalding derision, Billy Kane sees no purpose in this. Insight is not gained from being bundled in cotton wool; fighting is not ballet, a graceful dance performed with careful choreography and with a medical team standing ever by to fix boo-boos. Those who seek battle do so knowing they can be hurt, even killed, when faced with a more powerful foe. Billy's been accused of cowardice in the past - doubtless will be again, fostering a style so quick and capable that it offers him endless ways to avoid damage and send it back fivefold. But this couldn't be further from the truth.
Kane may be one of the few who truly understands. What fighting is. What it /means/. Life doesn't pull punches. It judges harshly, leaves those who can't keep up bleeding and scared, and alone. Those who are fittest, strongest, most resilient? These are those who survive. Nothing else matters.
By the time that Gato rises once more, Billy has turned his back, doing so with a scathing sweep of the staff that sees it form once more to its fully-extended form. But it trails beside him in the dirt as he begins to walk in a slow, careless stride. The free hand lifts to his bandanna, adjusting it with a similar nonchalance that does nothing to demonstrate just how much attention he's really paying. Gato has disappointed; everything he has done is predictable to the enforcer, his motions noted for their excellence but his approach... well, it feels like no more than sparring. Routine movements performed with impeccable, but rote prowess.
What he was looking for, is what he feels as Futaba reaches deep. Kane begins to turn.
And meets the assault with a grin, throwing his arms wide to accept the palmheel this time, allowing it to thunder deep against his ripped torso. The grin remains even as he coughs up a gout of blood himself, eyes blazing with a hunger that wasn't there before-- that was only acted out for the benefit of the cameras. He's far from the masochistic insanity of some of his shadier colleagues, but Billy wants nothing more than a damn good fight; nothing more save going on to win it, at least. But an opponent willing to lie down and play dead doesn't interest him. If Gato had rolled over with his paws in the air - even figuratively, in providing a blow that was one iota less than the one he offers up now - then Kane would have kept walking.
But this is what he heard about; it's... incredible. He's rarely been hit so hard. Ryu didn't manage it, even once through the long and arduous dance they performed together. For all that the World Warrior earned something of Kane's respect, he had nothing on Gato Futaba. Harder to beat, perhaps...
"Fuck me..."
But that isn't what Kane's looking for. As he flies through the air toward the temple, the dust and turf parting like a billowed mist around him, Billy isn't entirely sure how he ended up there. His voice carries the croak of pain, swiftly removed - along with the air in his lungs - when he impacts the ancient stone. It shatters behind his back, sending up another cloud of brick dust, but Kane's too busy rebounding to care, reaching up to his mouth to wipe away his own ichor. The grin has vanished by necessity, but as he draws a breath it returns, and he pushes himself forward - the other hand still bearing his weapon, and giving it a wild spin as he reapproaches Gato Futaba with /ludicrous/ speed from his gathered momentum.
A careful eye might note the billowing of flame beneath the sleeves of Billy's jacket in the instant before he closes, jolting to a skidding halt, more earth ploughed up to either side in thick gouts as he whips his staff out in one hand; much as he was when Gato first came upon him. But now, fire springs down the crimson length, a streaming blaze bright enough to burn the eyes and deep enough to scathe the very soul. The totality is brought into contact with Futaba, striking hard against the chest, seeking once more to break through the mettle of the kenpo-ka, and the hellfires intensify, building in heat as the second strike comes - faster, harder.
"You're not 'alf bad after all!" He screams past the flames of his own furious spirit, lashing the staff around and around, striking both with wood and fire. It builds to a corona around him, a halo that only a demon would deign to wear upon his close-cropped head. Less despondent now and more jubilant, eager to prove his prowess against a man who can strike with such force and fury, Kane crows, "Shame I'm /better/!!"
COMBATSYS: Billy successfully hits Gato with Salamander Stream.
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Gato 1/=======/=======|-------\-------\0 Billy
Well. Gato is satisfied; much more so then any other high-tier fighter that he has went against. Sagat refused even to battle him. Ryu seemed to have mercy somewhere within his fists. But Billy tore into him with all his might, and showed him precisely what he wanted to see. A great gulf of technique and experience. The eldest Futaba spent too much effort on his striking force. It may be at the level he wishes to reach, but without the ability to hit an opponent... it is as useless as Hotaru's feeble multi-slapping hands. Flowing back into a defensive stance when Billy is launched away, he quickly realizes that... this battle is over. But there's only a somewhat smugly satisfied smirk from Gato as the burning staff is brought to bear.
He tries to drive forward, but the immense explosion immediately stops him, smoke and fire bathing him and scorching away the majority of his remaining clothing. Yet he still stands, mouth opening as black smoth huffs out. The start of a step forward is ended when the second blow quite literally slams him flat on the ground, in an explosive crator upon the ground. For a couple moments, that is that. But then Gato pushes up to his feet, body tense and twitching. His eyes seem empty; is he battling while not even conscious, refusing to give an inch beyond all physical limits?
Suddenly he rushes forward, lowering a shoulder in an attempt to slam into Billy's body. Two sharp blows, intended to disorient, follow. Before that steeping blackness rushes forward, and he fully grips the sheer killing intent he has flirted with. A deadly dance, as he executes the ultimate maneuver of his father's arts, the one intended to kill someone in a single blow. And this time, without the hesitation and rage, he follows through with it.
A single, titanic punch is thrown, a significant step higher then the one before. This is as hard as Gato can hit; there's certainly no doubt of that. An explosive kinetic thrust, that shatters his already overstrained body and would leave him limply crashing down before Billy in it's wake...!
COMBATSYS: Gato can no longer fight.
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Billy 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Billy dodges Gato's Ten-Ryuu Retsu-Kiba.
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Billy 0/-------/-------|
Billy's style is no less disposed to aggressive, headlong assaults than Gato's; as noted, they may well share enough common ground both stylistically and philosophically to get along, at least so aptly as men like them can. Yet this is the path they walk, furious and lonely but for the few who manage to touch them. In another life, without his tragic start upon the streets and the unexpected sponsorship of Geese Howard, Kane might have been far more like Futaba. His obsession with personal strength is certainly there, simply tempered by circumstance and - some might argue - lessened by his achievement of a physical peak. He doesn't consider himself complete by any means, but there's some truth in this. There are few that Kane cannot stand level with.
Through the dissipating flame and lingering smoke, the Londoner observes once more this warrior who chose to stand against him and bare his own fangs at their fullest fury. Despite his earlier dismissal, he has to admit-- Gato has something few men have ever possessed at such a young age, more than even the most talented whelp a decade his junior, because this is clearly a life he can embrace. The brutality and savagery of battle fits him like a spiked gauntlet, lends him a legitimate mien that Kane's rarely seen so stated.
And then he demonstrates why some consider him a coward. He's seen enough, and as the staff settles across his shoulders, gouts of fiery chi blazing their last against the leather of his jacket, Kane regards the final, incoming rush with another curl of his lower lip. There's a fleeting shake of his head, an upward roll of the eyes, and he smoothly spins out his rod once more, allowing Gato's initial charge to strike it with enough yielding solidity that the kenpo-ka likely believes he's struck. The retracting motion certainly lends credence to this; it's a cruel, disdainful gesture from the Syndicate enforcer. But it allows him, at least...
To see what Gato considers his ultimate technique.
His work done, Kane simply sidesteps around the terrible death fist. But he doesn't turn away yet, watching the bunching muscles in Gato's arm, and raising his free arm to shield from the encroaching shockwave. He's even forced to close his eyes briefly against that, barely resisting the need to be launched physically back. But he sees enough, gauges this man's strength before he collapses, and acknowledges the effort with a sharp smirk, throwing his weapon across both shoulders and looping his forearms around it as he saunters to the fallen form of Gato Futaba and gives him a hard, testing kick to the grounded ribs. "Tch."
Billy lingers there a moment, breathing steadily and relaxing off the rigours of battle. His body actually hurts where he was struck, a dull ache creeping across his own ribs that heralds the coming of bruises and a day or two of relative pain. That's impressive, for what it's worth. If nothing else, Gato has given him the nearest thing to a genuine challenge that Masters' Neo League has managed yet.
That doesn't mean he'll admit it. Glancing toward the waiting cameras with the flicker of a grin somewhere between impish and wolfish, Kane puts out his final display for the world; hawking a mouthful of blood and phlegm, then spitting against the back of that yellow cheongsam. Gato's earned it.
"Come back in a decade, kid..."
His parting words are given as he turns and saunters away, in search of older, more jagga prey...
COMBATSYS: Billy has ended the fight here.
Log created on 10:28:55 07/05/2012 by Gato, and last modified on 10:04:35 07/08/2012.