Rust - Kazama Invitational Round 1: Takako vs. Rust

Description: One opponent stands waiting inside a boardroom, ready to prove themselves against one who had previously bested them. Another is all but shoved inside, barely anything approaching ready after a long drive that, happily, ended in perfect parking. A dramatic battle between bokken and pipe, youth and experience... and determination meeting determination.



To say that Takako's path has been bestrewn with obstacles would be an understatement. After her battle in the jungle, she's lucky to be alive, let alone ready to take part in any tournament. Still, the girl had made it to Japan - too late to register, but to the place where the tournament was due to be held.

After that, she'd just kept shouting until she was finally ushered into this room to await her 'challenger'. This, at least, placated the girl enough to stop her shouting.

She... does not look well, though. She's got a shiny new kimono, and a shiny new bokken, but the newness of her clothes is offset by the state of her hair, her bandaged arm, and the haunted, 'I haven't slept in days' look about her eyes.

And then Rust is shoved into the room with her.

She had been sat cross-legged atop a boardroom table. In an instant, she is standing proudly astride it, looking down on the older man with a wild, almost CRAZED gleam in her eye.

"Ah, RUST HOWARD!" She exclaims, brandishing her bokken wildly as she does. "Fitting that we should cross paths again, here, now! Are you ready? Do you need to rest? To have a drink? I don't want to fight you at anything less than your best!!"

The aging man is shoved through the door by Asuka in a comically animated display by Rust standards - which is to say, the windmill motion of one of his arms as he desperately tries to keep balance as he all but trips over a part of the doorframe is nothing short of, well, entirely silly.
He casts a sharp look behind himself as he takes a few cursory steps inward, as if to maybe - well, most likely - scold, or protest, or what have you, when his name is suddenly called with a fervor that is... not entirely unfamiliar? To have his name screamed in the order of family than given is not a new thing for him - to have his name screamed at all, even - but there's that feeling in the pit of his stomach when he turns back to face forward to see...
"H-Hey, it's... it's you," what was her name? Compared to that look in her eye - that look of battle-ready bloodlust - he barely looks much like he's ready to be on center stage himself. Sweaty, a bit dusty, a bit... well... there's so many descriptors about him that really go without saying as he sizes her up. It's kind of hard to gauge the look in his eyes - doubting? Irritated? Just tired? He takes in a deep breath as she pops the question.
"T-Truthfully," he starts as he holds up a hand, waving a finger, "just... just got out of a, a good long car ride, haven't... haven't had a chance to... stretch."
How much time does he have to actually stretch? He casts a cursory gaze around the boardroom for any obvious cameras, any obvious signs that he might have to be pushed to simply /go/. For what time he does have, he makes the best of it.
Sickening, loud, unsettling pops of tired, complaining joints as he stretches out a leg. The rumbling of a shoulder that wants to get locked up. A neck that feels like it's ready to snap itself clean off if he so much tilts his head too far in any given direction. Each second is excruciating in its own right, given the bared teeth as he hisses through some of the worst of it--
--at which point, he abruptly stops and looks up a bit back to the bokken-wielding young woman of perhaps unmatched fervor and determination. "You... you sure you wanna swing that, that... that thing 'round with your arm--"
He stops and considers who it is he's exactly talking to as his voice trails off, and, really, kind of puts serious thought into the sorts of people he's come to know over the years.
"N-Never mind, just lemme get this... this... one... last..."
He puts his hand on one of the chairs and really, really stretches out one of his legs behind himself, as far as he can stretch those tired ligaments that constantly cry... no more, no more, stop flexing me, no more! He does not grant them rest, as he eases back into a standing position with a sigh.
"Okay, uh... that's... that's 'bout as good as... uh, I think I'm gonna," his voice trails off yet again as his right hand rests atop the makeshift hilt of Ol' Rusty, straightening out his posture. It's not the first time he's had to be shoved out to an arena to fight almost as soon as he got there, but he certainly looks the part of a man who was caught with his pants down on camera.

There ARE cameras, of course, and Takako just gets antsier and antsier as Rust tries to make himself at least vaguely ready to fight. There's no camera operators, though. Presumably Asuka has decided to take pity on them, and whatever fight footage they get will be stitched together after the fact, rather than making them stay there and endure the tirade of the half-mad japanese teenager.

The girl's eye twitches faintly when Rust expresses doubt about her arm - but she lets it go. He almost immediately realizes his mistake and... well, maybe she's mellowing now that she is entering the autumn of her sixteenth year. Or maybe the repeated blows to the head she's taken in recent history have finally managed to knock some of the anger out of her.

"I'm fine. I will not let some minor injuries stop me from claiming this tournament!"

And then he says he is ready.

Takako doesn't hold back for a moment. Instantly, she is driving the tip of her bokken down at the man. The firm stance atop the boardroom table gives her some added leverage, which is nice, and the only warning he gets is that characteristic loud shout of hers - no doubt audible through at least a couple of walls.

"KIYAH!"

COMBATSYS: Takako has started a fight here.

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Takako           0/-------/-------|


COMBATSYS: Rust has joined the fight here.

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Takako           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0             Rust


COMBATSYS: Rust fails to interrupt Medium Strike from Takako with Medium Piping.
- Power fail! -

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Takako           0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0             Rust


Of all the cautions, pre and post, that one Howard Rust has made about dealing with deliriously battle-ready young women, he forgets one particular cardinal rule about saying 'yes, let's fight to them.'
'I'm ready' does not typically mean, in their language - or at least his perception of such a concept of these personality types having some secret shared code among them - that 'okay, just stand there and let's get ready to go.'
'I'm ready' means 'come hit me in the face right now,' and that is a critical mistake not only for him, but pretty much anyone to make when it comes to Takako Fujiwa as she makes good with her superior leverage over the larger, stronger, older, more experienced man with a deafening kiai that could unsettle even statues.
For his part, his response - one honed from years of fighting - is to quickly lower his stance down a touch to yank Ol' Rusty free of the toolbelt pocket it occupies into one, solid stroke to meet hers. Wooden bokken versus rusted length of pipe. From here, mass and momentum should carry the rest as he seems ready to lean up against the oncoming blow.
Ol' Rusty resists the tug at a critical juncture, as it is sometimes prone to. Lips pursed tightly together in tension, he turns his head slightly as if to say 'c'mon, get out, let's fight, this is what we're here f--'
The blow is solid enough that it interrupts this description mid-metaphor, the aging man spinning a full 360 into collapsing onto a chair, where the remainder of the momentum of Takako's blow against his head sees him spinning in said chair. It's a very nice boardroom chair to allow for such impeccable spin.
It only stops when he firmly places a hand on that boardroom table, although his eyes seem unfocused. He grunts as he casts a glance either way to see where she is, muttering something unintelligible as he makes the attempt to pull himself back up out of that seat - something he may not quite have time to do before she's on him again if she chooses to keep the momentum.

Oddly enough, Takako does not immediately follow up. Her instinct is, of course, to do just that. She lunges down from the table as Rust is sent spinning away on the nice chair, and for a moment, it looks like she may well follow up with all the fury that a tiny girl like her can muster...

But instead, she halts herself. Watching Rust stumble and try to regain his balance, she waits until he is all the way out of the chair again, and then she nods her head. Its a subtle gesture, but an important one. She meant what she said; she doesn't want to beat Rust because he wasn't ready, or because he was off balance. She wants to win in the purest way. Through hard work and the application of skill. This... ISN'T a fight for her life. And the very fact that it is more relaxed brings a smile to her face as the older man recovers himself.

"You need to watch your footing, Rust Howard!"

Her foot hooks around another one of those chairs, and the sandal impacts heavily into the back of the office furniture, and sends it hurtling towards the man at great speed! In the same moment, she's following up behind it, a second roar on her lips as she takes a firmer grip on her bokken and prepares to slam into Rust - and whatever defense or offense he might offer to the impromptu chairdouken.

"KIYAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!"

COMBATSYS: Rust dodges Takako's Large Thrown Object.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Takako           0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0             Rust


It's something that's certainly going to go on the highlight reel as a blooper - man gets hit so hard and solidly he's sent off in a chair. It's not going to be one of his prouder moments in retrospect when he finally books a hotel for the evening and might have to watch that replay. The subtlety in difference between a Takako fighting for her life, and a Takako who has the chance to prove she can beat a celebrated fighter, surely and truly... it is, for the moment, lost on him on grounds of possibly a minor concussion and a touch of disorientation.
He grunts non-communicatively at the helpful advice as he regains his footing, hand on Ol' Rusty yet again. He gives the thing a tug just as she sends it hurtling at him at a speed that even trained drivers in closed courses for automobile commercials might find a touch unsettling. Well, maybe not quite that fast, but...
"My footing," he grunts out as he takes to a short leap as it draws near, landing his feet upon it as it hurtles across the slick office floor and, once again, just barely clearing the back of it in a second leap....
He doesn't quite have time, or perhaps the mental bandwidth, to finish that sentence. He likely doesn't need to, given how Ol' Rusty slides free from its toolbelt pocket, flipped in mid-air so it points downward as he takes it in both hands, momentum carrying him towards the eagerly advancing, shouting Takako....
And thrusts Ol' Rusty downward into her on his descent, poising to land himself into a kneel if he's not caught in mid-air, a brief but plenty audible shout accompanying the attempt.

COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Takako with Crushing Pipe.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Takako           0/-------/---====|=------\-------\0             Rust


The blow slams home clean and true, Takako's shoulder takes the crushing swing of the pipe like a champ, and she grinds her teeth as the impact shakes her to the core. It actually forces her to stumble, breaking her stride for a brief second as her knee buckles, but, now, at least, Rust is within range of her.

And she's got no intention of staying down for long! The girl's eyes glimmer with excitement and anger. That blow hit her injured shoulder! The pain must really be excruciating, but true to her word, she's not going to let any 'minor' injury slow her down when it comes t claiming her due!

"HRARGH!"

Not the most coherent comeback in the history of fighting, true, but suddenly the girl is bringing her bokken up, and aiming to slam the hilt brutally hard into Rust's face. Hit or miss, she's not going to let up either way, throwing herself at the older man's guard like a girl possessed! There's little subtly to the move, hoping she can just wear him down and smash through his defense through grit and determination - oh, and by repeatedly slamming the hilt of her bokken into his arms and, if possible, his face, of course!

COMBATSYS: Rust blocks Takako's Violent Hurricane.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////    ]
Takako           0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0             Rust


It's not actually that smooth of a landing for Howard, either, coming down a bit rougher on his knee than he'd like considering he hadn't had all that much opportunity to really... stretch, get loose, get limber. Sure, there's that somewhat ponderous movement he carries himself with - he's not really an individual famed for his personal agility, that moment with scaling a hurtling chair at him aside.
It makes Takako's relentless recovery from such a solid strike that much more difficult for him to mount a defense against. There's that first, legitimate tap against his chin that sees him righting himself up right quick - granted, the reaction of most people being struck in the face by the hilt of Takako's bokken tends to be something a little more than 'one eye shut, slight tilt of head, accept readily as impetus to maybe stand up and back up.' Usually, one might see spittle... or blood.
The rest of her assault is largely warded off with his forearms in varying degrees of convincingness. There's a steady rhythm to her assault that isn't quite there in his defense, even if one might say it's a successful one. He gives up a little ground for every strike as she tries to lay into him.
It's towards the last strike that he out-and-out palms at the hilt with his left hand. Outwardly, he doesn't appear that much more lively than he came (well, got shoved) into the boardroom with, but it's the sort of thing a fighter often picks up on right quick.
Determination.
He might be physically giving up a bit of ground as he threatens to walk into that chair he previously leapt over as it bounces off a wall and starts rolling back slowly in his direction, but that palming of the last of the hilt strikes isn't just a bolder defense.
It's almost a tell, even, as he leans forward to shoot his left hand past her assault - there's generally no stopping a Takako assault once it starts, at this point he's probably just making his own opening - teeth grit as he moves to try and grab one of her shoulders and yank her forward over a then-outstretched leg to try and force her to give up her footing, to put her on the defensive instead.

COMBATSYS: Takako fails to interrupt Medium Throw from Rust with Kami's Roar EX.

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Takako           0/-------/=======|===----\-------\0             Rust


Takako would certainly like the world to believe that there's no stopping an assault from her when it gets started. The world, however, has repeatedly proven that - in case of fact - there are multiple ways to stop such an assault. For instance, by grabbing her and tipping her off balance.

Rust goes for the grab, and Takako responds by shouting and trying to jump up into his face. Unfortunately, his grip is more secure than she would have liked, and what actually winds up happening is that the girl adds her own momentum into slamming her face into the floor and breaking her nose.

To her credit, she doesn't do anything so girly as /whine/ about it, though. Rolling, she attempts to recover her footing as quickly as she can and round again on her opponent, face streaked and caked with blood and snot as it may be. Whatever cusswords and frustration she might have building up in her is, mercifully, censored enough by the broken nose that the folks back home won't have to deal with a lot of bleeps.

"GHACKLEBLUHGKKKSHAKKFASSUCKER!"

As Takako hits the floor, Howard takes a step back, drawing back his right arm - the arm that holds Ol' Rusty - as his left hand goes across the length of the pipe, then keeps his left forearm pointed outwards to the shouting Takako. Eyes narrowing, he draws a foot back--
It bumps into a chair. He lightly shoves it aside with another non-committal grunting noise of some sort as he repeats the process as though it were filming a second take of a critical film shoot, reasserting the posture of his arms and of his stance as Ol' Rusty is lowered down and then pointed away, still leading forward with his left arm.
Perhaps, it says the most of all that he doesn't suddenly stop and show concern for an opponent who has just been dealt a significant blow - whether correctly guessing their next course of action or just making the right call, none can be sure - holding his stance as though preparing for a strike at just about any point in time.
There's that small distinction to make, a line that might have been crossed - one where someone goes from being seen as, maybe, an annoyance or a speed bump, and one where someone may actually be seen and treated as a legitimate threat even with the seeming gap between the two of them.
Could the two of them, on some level, now be fighting one another as equals? Whatever the case, Howard's eyes remain narrowed, fingers of his left hand flexing every so often with every little consideration as Takako is given the space to stand back up.

COMBATSYS: Rust focuses on his next action.

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Takako           0/-------/=======|===----\-------\0             Rust


Takako grinds her teeth as Rust slows and regards her. The girl's eyes narrow, and for just a second, she allows the space between them to remain. Ordinarily, holding back and refusing to come at her would feel like an insult - but despite the clear and obvious difference inn their fortunes so far, that is not the feeling the girl gets from her opponent. She's being taken seriously.

And so she shall not disappoint.

Tossing her head back, blood and mucus streams over her shoulder, and with her eyes mostly cleared, the girl surges back into the fray. Quick footsteps hammer into the expensive wooden floor of the room, and at the last moment, she dodges around to the side. She's certain that Rust will be watching, and will know that there is a chair there...

Is he expecting her to jump up onto it, and, as the discarded furniture fumbles to support her weight, spring from it with a savage bellow on her lips?

Hopefully not!

"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

She practically flings herself at him head-first, completing a graceful arc as she flies through the air, and aims to bring the bokken around with her to slam heavily into whatever guard the older man has managed to muster in that time.

COMBATSYS: Rust interrupts Power Strike from Takako with Cement Upper EX.

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Takako           1/----===/=======|=====--\-------\0             Rust


Howard watches her movements with utmost care. He's not the swiftest of the bunch, something he's long had to work with compared to others. Sometimes (...often) a knee sends a surge of pain as a complaint, sometimes (...less often but still often) a shoulder just plain locks up and dulls a swing or a strike. It's often a side effect of when he goes into his famed defensive gestures where he locks himself up into one of the sturdiest defensive stances this side of some of the most masterful monks of seemingly supernatural control of their bodies, the ability to adopt such movements that their bodies can seem to be made of stone, steel, or harder.
He does not relent in such a fashion even as Takako goes for what ought to be an unexpected leap off the chair. He works with it as she angles herself to push right through the guard of his left arm, Ol' Rusty scraping against the wood floor.
With dexterity uncommon to his right hand given the injury he suffered years ago in the Southtown invasion that took Geese off his throne, Ol' Rusty spins in his hand once before he swings it low and forward into a rising strike, the tip scraping off the wood hard enough to spray sparks.
A loud shout escapes his throat as his boots slide across the floor with the momentum of his swing, carrying himself into her midair strike as the bokken slams down onto his left shoulder. He endures, his strength not faltering in the least as he swings the pipe up into /her/ with about all the force that swing can muster.
The only real acknowledgement of what would otherwise be a clean hit on his person is a quick roll of his left shoulder and a bit of a wince as he takes a step back to try and put himself at a distance where his superior wingspan might force her to keep approaching as his hip bumps up against yet another chair.
He grunts again as he gives it a good shove with his foot away from him. He could have sworn there weren't this many chairs lined up when he was thrust in here.

Takako practically bounces from the force of the blow, rocketing away from Rust to hit the ceiling and, for a second, she ... sticks? Her sandals lodge into a ceiling tile and the girl shakes her head hard as she clears her eyes. He's gotten far too many good hits. She has yet to land a single unmitigated blow! Well, that stops right now! Lets see him deal with this!

The girl's eyes narrow, and the office is suddenly split by a howling wind. Swirling, the energy coils about her bokken, and she lets out a long, slow hiss as the air cuts her palms. She did not come all this way, drag herself from the ocean, through the ruins of South America, through Hell itself, to fall at the first hurdle!

"You have fought well, Howard!" She declares, loudly, "But I'M NOT GOING TO LOSE *AGAIN*."

Her self-belief is impressive, and her skill... well, it is almost as solid. Exploding from the ceiling tile, the gale she whips up in her wake shatters the window of the expensive office, cracks the lens of one of the cameras, and now she's bringing the bokken down with all the force and fury she can muster.

It is one, clean strike. Delivered as blindingly fast as she can, Takako aims to finish the final attack standing /behind/ Rust, and slowly straightening back up. Who knows, it might even work!

COMBATSYS: Takako successfully hits Rust with Raijin's Strike.

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Takako           0/-------/-------|=======\-------\1             Rust


The sight of Takako sticking to the ceiling is... well, it's slightly disarming, as the middle-aged American fighter actually has to look up to see his latest handiwork, if mostly for the virtue of not letting her completely out of his sight - nobody wants to be blindsided by a fierce, relentless young girl recklessly swinging a wooden sword, even someone like him.
"Huh." He mutters aloud as he takes a few steps back to seemingly consider what's coming next between the two of them. He might even be wondering if her entire foot might be stuck up there now.
That's something he's not going to be left to wonder about as she shouts her latest. As she makes her declaration, he thinks to hold Ol' Rusty horizontally in front of himself - a relative rarity. He almost never appears to try to hold the weapon defensively in front of him. It may be because of the comparatively weaker grip of his right hand as opposed to his left. He starts pacing a bit to the side as the gale wind starts to whip up.
Instinctively, his left hand goes atop his scalp and presses down firmly for a moment, jaw firmly shut as he squints up at her to make out whatever her next--
There's no time to react.
It's so fast that the cameras may not quite pick it up. There is a loud, even deafening sound of the crack of wood against bone as shockwaves fan out from the point of impact.
Howard stands in place, left arm held up in front of himself, gloved fist clenched about as tightly as can be in the still that follows. His stance is rigid - that familiar defensive posture....
He exhales loudly as he falls to one knee in a series of loud, creaking pops, a single cough and a sputtering of some syllable alien to the English language (or perhaps human speech in general) as both arms slump, left hand pressing up against the ground.
"You... you got better," he manages to mumble out - probably the first actual complete sentence he's been able to utter since being struck in the head by the bokken right at the start. His fingers clench in a way that his knucklebones protest, each one crackling out the desire to stay firm as they are.
He fights every joint he has to suddenly spring off the ground, to put one of his newer techniques since advancing further down the initiate Kyokugen ranks to use despite the stiffness of his joints, swinging one leg around behind him in a wide circle before pointing outwards with a straight kick on the other leg. The momentum carries him slightly backwards in the air - a notable difference from its strong resemblance to the Hien Shippu Kyaku. It seems less a mistake of execution and more his own deliberate variation of the Kyokugen technique, perhaps to put a little bit of space between them, back into weapon clashing range.

COMBATSYS: Takako blocks Rust's Girder Sway.

[                     \\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Takako           0/-------/------=|=======\=------\1             Rust


CRACK

The foot is met with the resounding snap of wood against flesh, and Takako's lips quirk upwards once more at the compliment paid her. She's mildly disappointed that Rust didn't simply keel over and collapse after taking the force of her god-hammering blow... but very well!

"I am. Allow me to demonstrate to you... how far I have come."

Rust has backed off, and for once, Takako does not blindly follow after her opponent. She is well aware of the limits of her body, and she must know that one more blow could very well be the end for her. Instead, there's a low rumble from the girl, and she raises one foot into the air. Steadying herself, she takes in a deep breath, and her eyes blaze ferociously, and then...

"KIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"

She's LOUD enough as it normally is, but as her foot slams down into the polished floor and creates a wealth of scratches, the force of the kiai shout she unleashes hits hard. Flowing out from her in a wave of compressed sound and air, it explodes in a wide radius around her, throwing up debris and sending more unfortunate chairs scattering out of the broken windows.

No matter who wins, Takako is definitely doing her best to make sure the repair bill stays as high as possible.

COMBATSYS: Rust guards against Takako's Deafening Kiai.

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Takako           0/-------/-------|=======\==-----\1             Rust


It's not just the strength of her shout given form to fight off those who stand in her way. It's everything that gets tossed aside around her as she screams. Howard hardly has any time to really gather himself as he lands in a crouch from those kicks he forces stubborn, tired legs to deliver. He has yet to fully flex out those little kinks, pops popping up here and there as he stands. He grits his teeth as he brings his left hand firmly down upon his scalp. He has to lead with his right arm against the scream.
To say nothing of a toppled chair that slides towards him. It gets batted away with Ol' Rusty.
A piece of cracked ceiling tile, jostled loose, falls down upon him. He punches upwards with his left hand, shattering it into further pieces around him. The collateral of her determination is just as dangerous as, well, her very determination. His ears ring loudly in its aftermath - but he stands largely unbowed.
She's not the only one who wants this victory.
Only slowed down, as it were, as he steps in towards her with clear purpose that belies the distance he had put between them previously, stepping in to risk getting into her favored range for aggressing as he swings his right leg forward, foot cocked back...
It strikes into the ground where she stands, likely her shin, or her foot - but something's going to get cracked all the same this evening as a foot loudly and thunderously strikes into the expensive wood flooring. It doesn't do this once.
It does this multiple times, the fervor of which summons a flickering, washed-out energy that envelops his leg - is it some kind of white-ish color? Maybe a bit blue? Greenish? That's not an important distinction to make as he threatens to hammer it all home right then and there, each strike against flesh, floor, or anything else it may reach loud in such rapid succession it is entirely akin to a jackhammer.

COMBATSYS: Takako fails to interrupt Jackhammer Kick from Rust with Medium Strike.

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Takako           0/-------/--=====|=======\==-----\1             Rust


COMBATSYS: Takako has reached second wind!

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Takako           0/-------/--=====|=======\==-----\1             Rust


With Rust back on the offensive, Takako stands firm in the face of the assault. She doesn't try to dodge, doesn't try to mitigate the first few blows in any way. It is only after the second hits her that she lets herself move at all, in fact. But when she does, it is with a swift, slashing motion - aiming to draw the bokken directly across her stubborn opponent's cheek.

The attack sails cleanly over Rust's head, and the girl growls with irritation at her own failure as she is hammered backwards. But whilst she is, most definitely, bloodied by the assault... and whilst her body screams at her that she should be backing down, her nostrils just flare with ever greater indignation.

"So."

And the bokken is raised, her chin held high as she recovers herself, eyes continuing to glint with that daring challenge.

"What else have you got to show me, old man?!"

He doesn't flinch with the near-miss to his head - he lets the full flurry of kicks go as they will up until he decides to give his knee that brief break. Pulverized wood, struck into dust, wafts into the air in a small cloud as he gently regains his posture, showing a gentle care not to put a little too much stress on his right foot as it is drawn back.
This seems to be the only show of care or caution afforded. There's no words, no stare of disbelief that she might still be standing, none of that, as he moves in to swing his left side towards her, crouching down low as he balls his fist up tight.
He attempts to slip past her outstretched bokken with the sort of forward momentum that she often shows her opponents, attempting to smoothly flow from one offense into another as he draws his fist down low and back.
It is suddenly thrown upward with such force that it might not only threaten to thrust Takako into the air - he, himself is carried along with it in the classic leaping uppercut punch motion (no doubt another Kyokugen-drilled infusion) that bolsters the original technique he's carried all the way to here.
Should he strike Takako cleanly with that uppercutting blow...

COMBATSYS: Takako endures Rust's Crane Launch.

[                                < >  ////////////////              ]
Takako           1/---====/=======|==-----\-------\0             Rust


He forces her into the air, landing down upon his feet before leaping upwards a second time - higher up than he normally seems to manage in most of his brawls, where it is common knowledge that his hops are not terribly impressive among the fighter population - thrusting out with Ol' Rusty in both hands to grab hold of her somehow. Maybe some loose piece of clothing, or some such.
From there, he starts to swing. It grows faster and faster with every passing moment. Somehow, he builds up enough speed in swinging Takako round and round and round to briefly defy gravity, the two of them a blur.
Some may express fear that he may well accidentally fling Takako out the window. How can anyone keep hold of anyone else when going at the speed he is? Yet, it is with absolute delicate control and precision in his hold that he keeps her for about as long as he can. Maybe he is, in fact, fully aware of the very risk of sending her careening off to... an unpleasant fall. Fighting g-forces with every fiber of his being, Howard sharply swings Ol' Rusty downward with a loud kiai of his own, threatening to send her hurtling right through the boardroom table she first stood upon when he got shoved into the meeting room, losing his lift to come down after where he flings her a moment later.

Takako has been on the defensive for much of this fight, trying to keep up with the older, more experienced warrior. When she soaked his jackhammer-like kick, it may have represented a true shift in ethos from the girl. It isn't just about fighting and winning; it is about doing so in a way which expresses who you are. And so, as Rust comes in with the punch, she grimly resolves that she will see this through in a way her father would have been proud of.

The punch lifts her from her feet, and as she is spun around, she is eerily silent. Swung over and over again, the wind around the pair picks up - and that might be the only warning that Rust gets about how Takako intends to deal with this situation. She had managed to land one solid blow before; but this technique takes so much out of her, even if she can pull it off a second time, can she stay standing in the wake of it?

When he lets go, and she spins in the air, she has a split second to realize that whether or not she stays standing is definitely no longer a matter of merely surviving her own technique. She will have to make her body cooperate after the impact as well.

Her sandals crush into the floor, and her knees buckle, and then, she dares to speak. Her voice is steady, calm... surprisingly quiet, given just how much she tends to shout. To the viewers at home, it may just be that it looks like she's mouthing words. Rust, though, can probably hear...

"We can tell so much about each other through these moments... Rust Howard."

And then she is exploding upwards once more, all of the energy she had built up through the impact suddenly erupting out of her as the wind-sheathed blade cleaves into her blood-slick palms yet again. She's slower - marginally - than she was last time. Forcing herself to channel chi and move as her body desperately tries to fight the will of the girl inhabiting it means that as she delivers the blow, she will pass within an inch of Rust's ear as she slides behind him.

"... Thank you, for this lesson ..."

And with that, the bokken carves its glittering arc and - hit or miss - she is going to be struggling to keep herself conscious as she tries to stay standing behind the man again...

COMBATSYS: Takako can no longer fight.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Rust             0/-------/-----==|


... and fails. Slumping to her knees, her smile is a small, fragile little thing as her eyes close.

"Saaa... no, regret."

And finally, Takako headbutts the conference table, cracking it neatly down the middle as she falls.

COMBATSYS: Rust endures Takako's Raijin's Strike.

[                     \\\\\\\\\  <
Rust             0/-------/-======|


It's amazing, what one can hear in the wake of all the chaos that erupts around two skilled fighters simply going at it. Somehow, above ringing ears, above roaring displaced air, above the body threatening to go numb as g-forces threaten to tear it apart.... in that little split second where he hangs mid-air, resisting disorientation by dizziness with an almost laser-like focus in the wake of an explosive display of strength, precision, and endurance.
He is in a precarious position to be caught in mid-air in the wake of a dedicated offense, before he can truly land on his feet and continue. The speed at which Takako can carry herself forward after such heavy hits is always disorienting and alarming - even to people who, theoretically, are capable of largely the same.
It's hard to read the reaction on his face, or what he's thinking - he even may not be sure what he makes of it in the spot of the moment as she gives her thanks in tandem with her ultimate, final blow.
He twists and contorts in the air as far as he is able to fight physics to do so, ultimately working with the direction of the blow rather than resist it. This means that rather than have her end up behind himself, he gets to face her as a numbing, sharp pain passes through where the bokken strikes. His body, facing some numbness from all that spinning, can't quite pinpoint where. He just knows it's there.
It's a strong enough shock that he loses his entire sense of how high up in the air he actually is. If the fight were still going, this would be a pittance. Even as he comes down upon the conference table on his left side, facing her, he could still very easily swing out with Ol' Rusty to tag her.
Sense takes better hold of adrenaline moments away from striking her in the face with the pipe. It is suddenly held rigid, a hard stop that sees him even shooting his left hand up to grasp the pipe, lest it just slip and fall out of his right hand and possibly smack her anyway.
Her declaration of no regrets passing as she slumps forward, confirming what he kind of fathomed deep in that fighters' instinct he's honed and re-honed over the years - the fight is over. There's no need for another strike.
He finds himself at something of a lack of words. Maybe it's because now he's partially embedded in the conference table. It could also be that now his body has a much better sense of what just got whacked. He winces aloud. He... kind of figured Asuka's hug earlier touched something it probably shouldn't have.
"Grhghgldghl." He grumbles - not out of irritation, maybe entirely out of fatigue - as he shifts his body weight to fling himself up to a sitting position to face her bowed-over posture.
He struggles for a while to really pull himself out of the table. He takes in a deep breath as he leans back, staring up at the ceiling. It doesn't quite cross his mind that maybe, just maybe, they're actually supposed to pay for damages here. Those usual trifling mundane matters escape his grasp, in the wake of the one thing he really cherished most of all.
Just a good, clean fight. That's all he ever wanted, day to day, isn't it?
"G... good one," he finally finds it in himself to form words anew, reaching out to gently pat her on the back as he at last readies himself into something of a stand, to pull himself out, to show he can still, largely, stand - even if it hurts greatly to put much weight on his left side at all.
For a minute, he just reflects on the whole thing as he will, waiting for maybe someone... like a medic, or an official, or something... to come up, maybe see the two of them off somewhere. They don't seem to come immediately. He thinks to help carefully dislodge her from the conference table, unsure at a glance as to just how deeply seated her forehead is stuck into the table.
Her headbutt is rather infamous, after all.
"First thing... first thing we do," he says aloud, "we... we gotta find someone to validate parking."
...
...And there he goes again.

Log created on 15:34:06 07/11/2014 by Rust, and last modified on 19:08:56 07/11/2014.