Description: The halls of Shang Tsung's palace are truly vast, his taste as grand as his manners. In this great hall, a reverence is given to the fighters that have battled before under Tsung's eye, and the monstrous grand champions of Kombat have been chiseled out of stone in full relief. Perhaps out of deference to those that came before, there are no tricks here, no death traps or monsters. It is Tsung's desire that you understand what it is you battle here. The symbolism is strong. In Shang Tsung's palace, there is only the fight... and a few people that don't seem like they belong...? (BONUS: Someone gets USA Sports Team'd)
When it comes to affiliations, Ayame has always considered them to be a fairly loose concept, as demonstrated by her history of flitting from one organization to another. Once a faction was threatened, she would be gone. Once an organization was in danger of defeat, she would be the first to switch sides, like a rat fleeing a sinking ship, burning bridges and opportunities left and right as she darted from one perceived 'safe' group to another.
But her final stop seems to fit her perfectly. There was a distinct lack of orders, and while expetations were high, they were also never explicitly stated. Individuals figured out how they could help carry out the ideals of this group and acted according to their whims. It was this individuality that brings Ayame here this day.
With an ear for rumors and information, she learned about the curious invitations that went out before many of the recipient even did. Deciding that this was something a certain recluse would want to know more about, she immediately went into action. It was of course without remorse that she relieved a certain Capoeira practitioner of his invite. He'll probably kick her sometime for that. Still worth it though.
After flights and boat trips run their course, she's ushered in along with the others who answered the clarion call of competition. Fight cards are issued, directions to rooms provided, times indicated, and with that, the fighters are set to prove their might. The island is surprisingly large for being relatively unknown. A sprawling palace covers the hills and cliffs. The slopes themselves are dotted with countless caves and tunnels. A deep canyon exists between two spires of the palace further back in the island.
This specific match is situated on a covered stone balcony high in the palace. To one side is a stone wall running the length of the platform. On the other is a column adorned wall overlooking an arena-sized courtyard that appears empty at the moment, though the blanket of ocean fog could be concealing a quiet audience in the mist. The statues that line the balcony are impressively life-like, but few are here to admire the architecture.
First on scene, Ayame can barely conceal her smirk. Skimming the fight card showed her up against one Zach Glen. At least, that's how she read it. She might've misread something somewhere. Time for payback from that tournament the previous year. Idly, she flicks a hinged butterfly knife back and forth in her left hand, the metallic handles clacking against each other, sending a steady, staccato echo along the corridor.
Everyone's here for the fight, no doubt. Some, however... probably do manage to find some sort of wonder about the architecture, in between the busy goings that just... go about busily, in this world. All the shuffling, the directing, the highly specific instructions of who, of when, of where... of how. It's the sort of processing that generally passes peacefully without much notice, given how routine it is for professional fighters - even in interesting circumstances, of odd locations.
A whistling sound breaks the silence about the same time as a highly identifiable pop in a knee joint does, as the familiar frame of one Howard Rust walks... backwards, into the balcony. One of those two noises alone should suffice as an introduction for the appearance of the pipe-wielding Kyokugen fighter, but...
"Quite... quite the sight," he says, facing in such a way he doesn't quite see who's already there, effectively lying in wait for someone else entirely, "this, this is the place, right?"
It's not clear if he's asking someone else or is talking aloud to himself, resting his left hand atop the makeshift hilt of Ol' Rusty, still sheathed through that torn toolbelt pocket as he turns himself forward.
"I, I dunno if you can feel it, but, u--" He stops mid-stride, squinting to the smirking young woman in brief - it's not quite clear who he was talking to when he asks someone as to whether they can 'feel it' or not.
"Uhh." He clears his throat once. "'scuse me, uh... hey." He starts to rub the back of his head, where his thumb rubs against... what the hell is that on his head?! That dark purple... thing... so much of a 'thing' that other items with this designation would consider it a great shame to be the same classification!!
"Sightseeing? 'cause, ah," whatever he mumbles next is probably either asking the obvious, missing the obvious, or has such a strange relationship with the concept of 'the obvious' that it just isn't worth putting into written word.
Shang Tsung. A mysterious old man that the Miyama clan has never before heard of. This is troubling, seeing as He has certainly heard of them. The clan's invitation stated that they should 'send whom ever you deem appropriate'. So, to that end, Noboru has been sent.
While the soft clacks from Ayame's knife bounce off of the stone walls, a large shadowy silhouette can be glimpsed prowling silently through the sea of fog below. As the shape nears the balcony wall a wave of abnormally thick mist rises up and crashes over it. And once the wave has settled, the figure is gone.
Eight black-clad fingers appear on the lip of the balcony between two warrior statues. Silent as the night, a hulking blue-coated man follows them up, swinging himself into a neat crouch on the edge of the wall. Idly the shinobi scans their designated platform with his good eye, icy blue gaze pausing briefly on first Ayame, then Rust.
"Hrrrm." Noboru Rumbles in a deep, mild bass. The damp breeze catches his golden brown shag of hair and flicks it about, silk coat gaining an appropriately dramatic flutter as he straightens slowly from his crouch to step down off of the low wall.
"There's some neat statues up there," Says a somewhat confident voice. "Not... really sure what to make of the place though." A smaller man steps out from behind Rust, an easy task given Rust's size compared to the shorter, smaller man talking. Compactly built, moving with a confident grace, Zach Glen does not look like much of a fighter when he stands next to Howard Rust.
There's a sad expression on his face. "There's... I think a lot of people were hurt here," he finally says quietly. "It's... sad here, or it was really sad here, maybe." And then Zach's emerald eyes fall on Ayame. His eyes narrow as he slides his feet to what both Rust and Ayame will recognize as a ready stance. His hands aren't up, yet, but Zach is clearly prepared to spring.
"So what's your stake in this, Ayame," Zach says guardedly. "Doing work for Ryouhara, or just seeing if you can't swipe anything that's not nailed down?" A very faint aura of gold slides across Zach's frame. Regardless of the girl's intentions, Zach's fairly certain he won't like it.
This had been planned as a brief vacation to expand her horizons, borne on the spot after holding up some unrepentant delinquents in Yokohama for their ill-gotten spectator pass to the event. Teens are quick to have a life changing epiphany when an average gal plants the muzzle of a massive handgun to their forehead. In good hopes regarding them paying back the kids they'd scammed of their money, Jira only left a brief note at home to her sensei reading: 'Watching the fighting event, I'll be back hopefully the next day, depends on how long it goes on for and if shenanigans occurs. P.S. All Akabara's idea.' and setting out for that boat out of Yokohama!
About a day's worth of passing time talking to her gun got people out of her way, and then to the palace and navigating her way to the bystanding area to witness the fighting. A heavy dual klak-chunk accompany her step, between boots and a jangling firearm. Her presence easily broadcasted, and her spectator pass is pinned to her vest, a shining testament that she's not supposed to be fighting today.
Settling in on a far corner of the balcony, eyeing all the people she's never seen before with obvious curiosity and excitement. Infact, including her friends and all her acquaintances, she only knows two fighter-tier people by name, so all of this is definately a new chance she's soaking in with unbridled ardor- or as much as can be expressed while pressed up to a wall and eyeing strangers from a distance with her gun hugged up to her chest.
As the seconds tick by, each one marked out by the steady opening and closing of her butterfly knife, Ayame studies the long, open-sided hallway, her expression sobering as her mind wanders to other subjects besides fighting the psi user that did nothing wrong beyond the happenchance of being targeted by her at the behest of that thrice damned Devil of Koga. There are no cameras that she can see. No observers. No officials. If this exhibition event is about providing entertainment, it seems a curious way of going about it. No... there must be another motive here.
Her musings are derailed as she senses something shifting through the fog, a tinge of energy indicative of another's approach. The pace of her knife flicking doesn't alter but her focus is now on the balcony proper. An ambush? The rules here are fuzzy. She should've thought of that herself. But then the fingers are seen on the edge of the balcony as the next arrival pulls himself up, his movements silent, surprisingly so for his stature. Wait, right - there were two other names on the fight card. Ayame flicks the knife closed and palms it, her right hand lifting to rub at her cheek. So fixated on Zach's name, she hadn't paid attention to what else was going on. Losing your edge, she chides herself, she should know better than that.
Rust's voice is heard next. She recognizes it immediately, pulling his verbal signature from her mental catalogue of 'persons of at least some interest', but she doesn't turn to look, eyes fixed on Noboru, meeting his one-eyed inspection with scrutiny of her own. Rust is not deemed a threat. The same can't be said for the stranger.
She only finally turns when the final arrival is heard. From Noboru's perspective, he would see the immediate shift in her expression, the way the corners of her mouth tug slightly, eyes lighting up in a way that doesn't reflect good intentions. Pushing with her left foot, she pivots on her right to face Zach and Rust directly, right hand going to rest at her hip. "Why Zach... please. Why does it just have to be one or the other?" she replies to Zach, tone lilting a little as she shrugs her shoulders slightly. "As for you, I think you're missing your spectator card, this place is reserved for f-figh..." her voice is drained of its playful edge as both eyes settle on Rust directly.
There's a long, pointed stare at the pipe wielder. Slowly she squints. Then opens her eyes wider. Then brings her arm up to wipe over her eyes and look again. "..." Ayame breaths in slowly, then releases a soft sigh as she lifts her face to the ceiling above, "Mister Rust. What has possibly possessed you that you've decided to show up wearing spray painted road kill on your head?"
Their lone spectator's arrival takes place entirely outside of the girl's notice for the immediate moment, so thrown off as she is by the disaster crowning Howard Rust's head.
Howard's never had quite the track record for coming into a scene of interest with all of his own interest intact. Indeed, it seems he's being pulled a couple of different ways in so far as what runs through that mind of his, turning over his shoulder to Zach at his equal parts mellow observation and pointed questions...
He stops for a minute to dig out a rather fancy - yet somehow still worn - piece of paper with his left hand from that toolbelt pocket of his. It is comically small to the size of his fingers. "I... I was gonna say, I didn't... think your name was," he mumbles another sentence fragment as he lowers the paper to the sight of someone else pulling themselves in a dramatic fashion. Well, more the sound of contemplation from one's throat.
He points a finger to the mysterious ninja-like figure, "yeah, that's... that's his name," he mumbles. From the other corner of his eye... someone else just sitting there. "Uh, I only... count... four?"
"L-Look, I gotta be... I gotta be level, here," he says, gesturing downward with both hands, "half the time, I... I'm not even sure where I'm goin' with this stuff, 'cause... 'cause, well, n-not every day you get an invite to something like--"
There's a beat, as his seeming babbling is spoken over by a question pretty much everyone, ever, has for him as the mysterious young woman's eyes fall upon him like a set of daggers that might actually pierce his skin.
"This." He points at his head, accidentally crumpling the paper he's been holding. "Is. My. Hair!" That's an exclamation point. "I... I... ahh," he just throws his hands up.
He... probably should be worried about something other than just disbelief over his apparent dementia in regards to his scalp as he walks aimlessly in some direction or another. "M-Moving on, where's--"
The crowds? The cameras? Aranha? A bathroom? He never clarifies as he trails off to unintelligibility.
"This place is saturated with psychic residue." Noboru rumbles in quiet agreement with Zach's initial pronouncement. "It has driven out a lot of the natural chi, leaving the land dead. I have only ever seen something like this once before." The big shinobi's English is flawless, if lacking personality. He has no accent to speak of. But as he talks he walks, ghosting along the line of life-like statues. His black-gloved hands shift to clasp neatly behind his back while he strolls, peering up at stone faces with his mismatched eyes. He doesn't bother filling in his name for those who haven't read their ticket. It's a ninja thing.
Noboru seems content to allow his fellow fighters an uninterrupted reunion for the time being. He doesn't spare Zach more than a passing glance between statues, and certainly doesn't glance towards that thing on Rust's head more than once. After registering what it was, his brain provided a handy blank spot in his vision, constantly tracking and updating the position of the purple menace. Every member of the Miyama clan is conditioned to handle extreme psychological stress. This is one of many ways they learn to cope with things that should snap the mind like an old rubber band.
As the ninja walks the faint breeze catches his coat and flutters it open. Aside from looking dramatic, this reveals the black weapon harness strapped over his grey undershirt, and the braces of throwing knives, short sword, and several soft grey packages secured to the leather straps.
"You're not much one for anything else," Zach says matter of factly. There's no malice, or even judgement in the tone. You don't hate the bird for pooping on your head. "For that matter, the fact that you worked for that guy kind of confuses me. I never figured you for terrorism. Out to get wha-" And then Noboru speaks, and it sounds like the guy is not guessing his way through this like the psion is. His eyes go back to Ayame, thinking. "You stole the Spider's invitation," he mutters as he finally realizes what happened here.
Zach glances at Rust. He's kept very, almost suspiciously quiet about the... travesty on Rust's head. He just never knew what to say without coming off as hurtful. He counts silently to ten before relaxing only slightly. He's not about to work with Ayame if he can help it, and the vibe he's getting from her tells him that she's of similar mind. He felt the girl's interest almost before she turned to face him. He thinks for a second before glancing at Rust.
"I don't know Stretch from Adam," he says pointing in Noboru's direction before pointing towards Ayame, "But she and I don't get along. At all. And I get the feeling she's out to do me some more harm. How do you want to do this?"
Ayame stares back and forth between Rust and Zach. She was well aware of their association in the past, though she hadn't any cause to keep track of how it endured or languished in the time since. Rust's answer is taken in stride, in the end. Mouth curling into a flicker of amusement before the expression fades. He's obviously crazy. In an expression that might almost border on concern for someone, she shakes her head, "Are you all right, old man? I think you better just sit down." His track record suggests otherwise, but all she can see is someone on the very cusp of senility. "Things are about to get dangerous here."
Her right hand is extended, clad in a fingerless black glove with extra cloth over the wrist, finger pointed toward Zach. "You better-" She pauses, glances back toward Rust, "Oh. That guy won't be showing up, don't bother looking for him." Charming smile one moment. Hostile smirk the next moment as she shifts focus back to Zach as he figures out what she's even doing here. "Well, well, check out the brains on- h-ey, wait..." She pauses again, hand lowering to her side. She glances at Rust. Then side glances at the towering shinobi. Then looks at Zach again, head slowly canting to the side.
A frown creases her lips as she looks Rust and Noboru over a second time then focuses finally on Zach, doing the mental math. "Oh... I get it. Aranha was your partner in this." Right hand goes to her chin. "Well then." Her left hand flicks at the wrist, the previously palmed butterfly knife flicking open in her grip. Her right hand slips near one of her belts, coming away with a second matching knife. She takes a step back and pivots toward Noboru, taking in at last his array of weaponry.
The right corner of her mouth tugs up slightly again as she appraises the collection of blades, "This just got even more interesting. Try not to slow me down, Zach." she notes, not actually looking toward the American boxer. "I don't want to be responsible for all the work here."
COMBATSYS: Ayame has started a fight here on the right meter side.
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|-------\-------\0 Ayame
All this drama, definately not something Jira expected in the least! A brief turning of attentions, and a blatant pointing out of the pipe-man's hair warrants a curious glance, and perhaps an even more curious glowing from her eyes as she focuses on it and suppresses a giggle. Then looking over everyone else, especially the ninja that's stylishly fluttering in the breeze.
An eerie sense of ease fills the girl, an unplaced notion of comfort just seems to bathe the area, yet she brings no questions of it. She just wishes she could hear the gathered fighters better, flashing a quick and alarmed look at her weapon.
"What!? I'm -NOT- going over there! I don't even think a visitor pass gives that kind of clearance.." a brief, thoughtful pause as her eyes dim down to their usual twinkling sparkle. "does it?" followed by a shrug and remaining where she is, her gun clinging ominously from her vest with no obvious means of suspension visible. Another brief glance down to it, and her eyes juggling between the gun and the gathering as she adds, "When do you think this is all going to star-" and already positions are being taken up! She hops up and down twice, giving a loud klacking from boots on stone, and her gun jangling.
It's a fair question as to whether or not he actually jumped that cusp long ago, what with the combover. Or... the cranes. (It's a long story...)
"...Is it?" He asks of the mysterious, well-armored, well-armed ninja with something of a sideglance as his left hand rests defensively upon his own scalp for whatever reason. "Huh, yeah, I, I kinda... get--"
He frowns at the arguing about terrorism, or about how some guy won't be showing up. His nostrils flare once, as though the weirdness of the whole situation were about to catch up with him in one swift burst of comprehension. He grumbles something or another as Zach asks one of his closest friends for sound advice as to how to best work with... people.
"Zach." Rust mumbles aloud. "I had... I had to deal with... that Marshall guy for, what, how many years? God damn nearly... nearly ran me to the ground, way he," he throws his hands up, "y-you know where I'm gettin' with that." Murmuring something else, he takes a few steps away as Ayame goes through that subtle gesture. "'m fine! Just... f-forget it," he grumbles.
It's difficult to communicate to people who aren't fighters. There's often an odd creed to the distance two people stand away from one another in. The way they stand, that they gesture, that when it is recognized... others follow suit, as he walks along a ways away as Ayame makes her very polite request to Zach, standing with his back turned towards the burly ninja as he takes another step or two to the side, right hand tugging at Ol' Rusty.
It takes a couple tugs for it to want to slide out of the toolbelt pocket, but, pipes don't have dreams or desires. They're pipes. "Guess we're... we're rollin' with it," he seems to just mentally concede as he casts a sideglance over to Noboru, and... someone else, way back there.
COMBATSYS: Rust has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
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Rust 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ayame
"Hrrrrrrm." grumbles the ninja mildly, steps slowing to a halt at the feet of one statue in particular. It is an eerily life-like depiction of a dread locked man in a tattered loincloth, right arm drawn back in preparation to throw a wicked-looking hand axe. The golden-haired man takes only a moment to glance up at the tribal warrior before seeming to come to a decision.
Stepping slowly about to face Ayame, Noboru plants his feet firmly and sinks into a ready crouch. Unclasping his gloved hands from behind his back, he slides his left beneath his silk coat as it drifts closed, slowly drawing free his foot and a half long short sword. The battered weapon is dark grey and scratched from many years of fighting. Its handle is leather-wrapped wood, and there is an odd notch a short ways up the back of the blade. Ayame is probably familiar with the concept of a sword breaker. This looks very similar to that. The shinobi angles the blade upward into a sloppy guard across his stomach, empty right hand held low and away from his body.
"Howard rust," Noboru starts, mismatched eyes focused on Ayame's brown across the divide, "it is an honor to fight along side you." This isn't an entirely accurate statement, seeing as they have their backs turned to one another, but only someone annoyingly literal minded would knit pick to that degree. The ninja has no time to bother with such nonsense. He's too busy eyeing up his strawberry-blond opponent. She has knives. He's going to get cut.
COMBATSYS: Noboru has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
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Noboru 0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 0/-------/-------|
Zach glances at Ayame, then at Rust and Noboru, then back to Ayame. "Just like that, then?" he asks almost jovially. He notes Ayame's movements for a moment. She, Zach /thinks/, plans on taking on Noboru. Fine. He's not buying into Ayame's sudden change of loyalty. He plans on keeping one eye on Ayame as he steps away from Rust. He settles into a fighting stance, squaring off against the larger man.
"Just try to stay out of my way," he says to Ayame, summoning a flow of Soul Power to his fists. "Wouldn't want you to get hurt if you didn't have it coming."
COMBATSYS: Zach has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Noboru 0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Zach
MURDERHOUSE %t"MOOOORTAL KOMBAAAAAAT!"
Jira hops around a bit more, giddily giggling as the fight starts. A rush of energy sparks up around her, a symptom of her lack of training. Suddenly her reverie ceases with a begroaned huff at her gun, settling flat against the wall and letting the energy soak instead into her eyes to pay close attention with bright pink glow sparkling and radiating from her irises.
She does break from this- for a very brief moment and gets distracted in trying to find any other spectators, which she notes a curious lack thereof. Not letting this bog her down, she refocuses on watching the fight and biting her lip in anticipation!
"Yeah?" Ayame replies to Rust. It's been years since she actually fought him behind the gym at Pacific High. How far has he come? His exploits are no secret to her, even if they seem like they belong to someone else besides the ex-shop teacher. "You're not going to be fine for long then." She tosses her right knife up straight into a lazy twirl, catching it backhanded as it comes down such that the blade juts out from below her pinky. A sidelong glance is cast toward Zach, "Don't hold back, just because you know him, yeah? I know how soft your type can get."
Focus shifts back to Noboro as he draws the short sword into his hand. He speaks to his partner with a polite expression. The two of them might work together better than the girl Zach got stuck with, but Ayame wonders if their styles are so compatible after all. The tall shinobi comes across with serious demeanor and his stature suggests his being here was no mistake even if she's never seen him in the fighting circles before.
"Hm..." Her brown eyes are focused on his face now. "I wonder how you compenstate..." Her left hand swings low and back before snapping forward. The blade that was in her left hand is now flying in a lazy arc toward Noboru. In the same gesture, Ayame is bursting forward into a sprint, keeping up with the thrown blade in a blur of black, red, and strawberry blonde. "...for the lack of..." She springs into a short hop, spinning from a few feet out from Noboru. Her left hand snatches the flung blade, clearly a intended distraction to take his eye off of her for a split second. An instant later her feet touch down, "Depth perception!" Both sharp blades are slammed forward, stabbing toward his torso as Ayame begins her attack with decisive aggression.
"Mmrph... yeah." Comes a slightly more intelligible grunt from the aging ex-shop teacher as Ol' Rusty finally gets a smooth draw - or so it seems. There's a little bit of a spin, a flourish, that is actually almost entirely accidental. It's no secret that the grip of his right hand isn't what it used to be - he might've almost drawn it out too quick, too hard. He somehow disguises this nearly clumsy drop with a downward swinging motion of his arm, bringing Ol' Rusty down to his side, pointed away. That classic stance, leaning forward with his left side. There's a little more movement in his feet, though - up and down, bobbing - they seem more ready to move at a moment's notice than before.
"I'd, uh, I'd... I'd like to say the same," he says back to Noboru - it's not clear if he's kind of caught off-guard in terms of making a snappy one-liner, is being sarcastic, or might actually be sincere. It's hard to tell, the way he pauses, stammers, stutters... but the eyes rarely ever lie, as they narrow to a fine point, holding his right arm - and the pipe - out forward for a moment towards Zach.
It's wordless, but he probably gets what he means with that gesture as he measures the space between the two of them, as if to mentally put together how many steps forward he might have to take to get into swinging range - or how fast Zach might come into his own.
The arm swings back down, as he shakes out his left hand briefly. His elbow pips a bit.
COMBATSYS: Rust focuses on his next action.
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Noboru 0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Zach
COMBATSYS: Noboru blocks Ayame's Medium Strike.
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Noboru 0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Zach
The tip of Noboru's blade cuts little circles in the air as he stairs stoically into Ayame's sudden blitz. His stance seems sloppy and relaxed, but his good eye is full of calm focus. he does not even flinch as the knife is thrown at him, half razing his right hand as if gauging the timing required to catch it by the handle. But then his smaller opponent is going into a mid-air spin, and the game has changed!
'CLING!'
The heavy dagger in Noboru's left hand darts forward to catch Ayame's right knife as she lunges in at him, forcing the weapon up and away from their bodies. Simultaneously his black-gloved right fist darts in and punches the lithe blond's other dagger away, the blade scoring a shallow cut across his knuckles.
Not having budged an inch, the big shinobi half pulls back his fist, then slams it forward in a hard punch aimed for Ayame's sternum. His fingers are curled into a tight half-fist, mismatched eyes remaining locked on her face.
"You assume too much." Responds the ninja calmly, even as he tries to knock her back across the arena with his punch.
Zach throws a quick glance at Ayame and Noboru. "She really doesn't know us, does she," Zach says with a grin as he faces a prepared Rust. He starts a short weave, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet for a moment. That pipe's got reach, magnifying the advantage Rust has in that area. Strength, and durability as well.
Play to your strengths, then, Zach thinks. The psion is faster, and while one might be hard pressed guess who would hit harder, Glen wouldn't bet against himself on that one. Zach darts in, golden energies spinning around his left fist as he closes.
"Been a while since we've done this," Zach says as he launches in to left cross on Rust's jaw!
COMBATSYS: Ayame dodges Noboru's Precordial Thump.
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Noboru 0/-------/--=====|-------\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Zach
Jira is witness to things immediately heating up and pays very close attention to what she can of that dash the knife girl has, and her surprising shifts of momentum and direction used against the ninja. Then to the pipe toting man squaring off against.. just seeing that energy makes her stomach churn for a moment, a distinct upset gripping at her. Energy the polar opposite of her sensei's design and training, unnerving enough that her weapon sinks fully into her core with a secondary shiver.
"You watch too, alright... I think.. we might be able to use that with practice." she murmurs to seemingly nobody, fists clenching while those ever glowing eyes pay explicit attention to the mounting combat.
The tall shinobi's defenses are nigh flawless, Ayame realizes, now that she's taken the reckless chance of closing distance to fight the larger opponent in tight. He didn't flinch, he didn't budge. He's no amateur. And whatever is going on with his left eye, it isn't imparing his ability as far as she can tell. Her right weapon is deflected though she manages to keep a grip on it. Her left dagger goes flying, however, the hinged handle undone, skittering along the stone floor until it comes to a rest several yards away.
Noboru's response to her invasion of his space fires off before the weapon even lands, leaving the nimble girl no time to recover from her aggressive assault. The same spinning motion that she landed with before the stab provides the ongoing momentum that she uses to avoid the punishing blow as his fist slams forward with piston-like force. Her lithe body twists, the soles of her feet skipping over the stone on reflex alone. "Tch."
His motions are efficient, she notices, but the extention of his half-fist to strike her leaves his arm out. With her left hand free of her dagger, Ayame acts fast. Her motion has her moving along his right side, her body twisting around - in another split second, she will be facing the same way as him - her left arm hooking up under his right arm in an attempt to lock on and use her momentum to threaten his own poise.
She already knows she lacks the brute force needed to try and twist him to the ground by his arm like she would try with an opponent closer to her in build. So instead she settles for trying to wrap tighter around his right arm, standing shoulder to shoulder with Noboru now, albeit no where near at his height. She tries to keep his arm pried out and away from his body, limiting his ability to defend with it. She only needs a split second opening, after all. Her own right harm sweeps in front of her, dagger flicking from being held upright to upside down as she once again attempts a vicious stab toward his abdomen, using all the force of her arm can muster!
COMBATSYS: Rust blocks Zach's Medium Punch.
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Noboru 0/-------/--=====|-------\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Zach
Zach's approach is met in the way that is traditional for Howard to deal with a lot of the things that get thrown at him in life - with his left forearm ready to try and take the brunt of it. (To this end, it's more a wonder it's his right hand is the one that suffers from lasting injury, and not everything from the left elbow downward...)
"Thtch," an incomprehensible shudder escapes from the middle aged man's mouth as the impact goes well past the elbow the punch tags. That all-too-familiar feeling... that energy. A different color, a different attitude empowering his person given form... when applied as such, no amount of physical fortitude can stop it from pushing through into one's very own self. The fist itself is a pittance in comparison - only in comparison, given how well Zach has honed his fighting technique. One out of two isn't bad, in this case.
"I'd... I'd say I'm a li'l, uh," he's totally not going to finish that comeback as his feet slide back two inches from the impact, a sudden twinge of pain in one of his knees that he doesn't allow to get the better of him as he crouches slightly - a brief tell - as he takes a short hop into the air. One leg sweeps outwards in a horizontal kick, the second follow-up thrust with such force that, for whatever reason, it seems to push the aging man himself backwards a short ways.
If Ayame's able to spare the moment of attention, this one is clearly new.
COMBATSYS: Noboru blocks Ayame's Random Combo.
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Noboru 0/-------/--=====|-------\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Zach
She's fast.
Noboru's right shoulder is still thrust forward, arm mostly extended, when Ayame counters by linking elbows with him. As their forearms press together the lithe blond can clearly feel the outline of something smooth and solid covering his right forearm. probably a metal bracer of some kind hidden under his sleeve, but there isn't much time to ponder it.
Rather than fight his smaller opponent's grapple, Noboru lowers his broad right shoulder and tenses his arm just enough to prevent her locking it into something nasty. Glancing down toward their entwined arms the ninja waits until her dagger is blazing in toward his guts. At the last minute he sweeps his own blade around in a quick horizontal slash that smashes hard into hers, knocking the strike completely off course. Rather than plunging into his stomach, The tip of her knife glances off of his right hipbone before tearing a shallow gash through his coat.
Ignoring the minor pain radiating from his pierced flesh, the hulking shinobi flexes the thick muscles of his right arm. Iron-hard fingers attempt to close tight around Ayame's left forearm. If he can get a good grip he will take one long step to his left, forcing her arm to twist painfully as he reverses her hold. Then, showing the truly hellish strength he possesses, he will throw himself into a harsh 180 spin. With his golden-brown hair flying and silk coat billowing out behind him, he will attempt to whip the strawberry blond girl up into the air one-handed and swing her around his body to smash full-length into the nearest warrior statue.
COMBATSYS: Zach blocks Rust's Girder Sway.
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Noboru 0/-------/--=====|-------\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Zach
Zach shrugs in toward Rust, catching the kick on his shoulder before palm striking the pipe with right hand, wincing as pain lances up his wrist. "Me too," Zach says. He has to stay in close, not give Rust a chance to bring that pipe in. On the other hand, Rust's overwhelming size advantage makes close fighting a risky proposition too.
The technique Zach brings to bear is new, but not really. Zach slashes a left uppercut past Rust's jaw, following up with narrow swath of Soul Power that (hopefully) /does/ hit Rust's jaw!
COMBATSYS: Ayame blocks Noboru's Power Throw.
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Noboru 0/-------/-======|=------\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Zach
The girl rapidly loses interest in the ninja, knife girl, and pipe man in favour of this energy user. The first feeling of nausea and unease is replaced with profound, calculating interest in his form and technique. Such that her eyecolour and even her body itself changes, into a fierce violet and a slightly taller, bulkier mass. A cold, far too tired gaze finds itself lingering on the other psi user's technique.. or perhaps deeper than just form.
Particularly at every burst and use of his soul power, as though a starved one had found themself before a buffet.
Locking arms with Noboru was a another dangerous risk. But there's only so many ways to figure out what an opponent is capable of. One can try hanging back, playing keepaway, hoping the other will tip their hand and afford an expoitable error. Or one can engage at full speed, hoping to overwhelm or at least keep from getting caught by a powerful reversal. Ayame isn't in the mood for hanging back right now.
His arm tenses - he's not flustered, he probably even knows what's coming, she realizes, in the instant her knife swings and his arm moves to deflect the sharp blade before it can inflict serious harm. Finding a way through this man's guard is proving to be difficult, to say the least. And now she finds herself with a bit of a problem - that being that she can't get her arm free. Ayame tugs as the power in his bicep is felt tensing, then pushes harder, using her legs to add additional force as the realization quickly hits that she isn't getting out this way.
Arm twisted, she grits her teeth, wincing before finding herself pulled right off her feet. "Wha-" A twist of her body, a kick of her legs, and the nimble girl manages to get her feet into place to mitigate the slam. She still hits the statue with incredible force, slammed as she was by Noboru's power, the sound of old stone cracking can be heard in the thinner legs near the base.
She finally escapes, however, lunging from the statue to land several yards away from Noboru, sliding to a stop, a breath escaping her lips as she whirls around to face him, not wanting to risk missing anything. "All right then," she replies, having a better measure of the man now. Her left hand goes to her neck to rest over a thin chain necklace dangling there.
"Now that we're reduced to throwing things-" In one smooth motion, she pulls the chain free, revealing it to be three individual chains linked at the center, small weights at each end. A simple bolas. Her left hand swings, sending the chains spinning as they fly toward Noboru at about the level of his throat, threatening to slip through that thorough guard of his if he's not careful.
It buys Ayame a split second to survey her surroundings, however. Zach seems to be doing fine - he and Rust busting out with attacks she hadn't recorded before. But there's something else way off too. "I think you've got a fan, Zach." she murmurs, sounding a touch puzzled as her eyes trace across Jira outside the area of the fight before shifting back to concentrate on Noboru. Something's definitely not right there.
COMBATSYS: Rust interrupts Soul Flare from Zach with Cement Upper.
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Noboru 0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Zach
From the crouched position Rust lands in after Zach deftly defends against the two-part strike, the pipe-wielding Kyokugen fighter puts the better agility it's imparted upon him to work, even as he contracts an ankle about as far as it's going to without tearing something, left hand touching the ground.
When Zach moves in to throw a punch, it's actually a legitimate mis-read on Howard's part - he believes Zach's throwing a punch a little too wide, too early, too hastily, as noted by the clenched teeth that might be part of something of a grin. It's kind of hard to read his lips, sometimes. (They may just be too low resolution a texture.)
Howard rises back up as he draws his pipe back, a little flick of his wrist with a slight sway back to allow ample space between them for the strike, the tip of Ol' Rusty scraping against the stone of the field they fight.
"Too s--"
He gets blasted in the face by Zach's brilliant yellow energy. Comically, that horrible... thing on his head flaps upwards, as though barely tethered by worn adhesives. His facial muscles flex upward with the two-for-one combination of a force that feels both concussive and... something greater, something more primal, with all the telltale signs of having been struck.
The problem is that it doesn't slow the upward swing in the least, leaning into the blow as his feet glide against stone en-route to pretty much anywhere in Zach's upper body the uppercut pipe swing might find purchase - the (in)famous Cement Upper, which to date, still seems to have no real relevance to the concept of cement.
By all appearances, it's a clean trade between the two - for Rust's part, he staggers a step back after the fact, left hand clutching his face with a low hiss.
"Okay, that... that wasn't too soon," he concedes.
COMBATSYS: Noboru endures Ayame's Plausible Deniability.
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Noboru 0/-------/-======|=------\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Zach
"Hrrrm." Noboru rumbles quietly, head swiveling to track Ayame's bounding progress even as he slides his short sword away beneath his coat. Despite the fact he just summoned enough raw force to throw her about one handed, the big man seems as calm and composed as ever. His icy blue eye tracks her progress with idle curiosity as she pulls off her necklace and readies it to be flung.
The ninja stands there and watches as the weighted chain twirls through the air on a direct course for his throat. Muscles like steel cables flex in his neck when the weapon impacts, keeping the chain from cutting off blood flow to his brain. However, once the weapon has finished wrapping itself about him he relaxes his neck and lifts his scarred brow mildly. Once he relaxes there is visible slack left in the chain. The piece of weaponized jewelry hangs happily about his neck like a gifted choker. Not really his style, but, you can't win them all. He probably has some bruises forming around his neck, but otherwise he seems fine.
Continuing to stare over at Ayame, Noboru steps forward and reaches out to grab hold of the statue they so recently cracked. Grabbing a thigh in either hand, the hulking shinobi flexes, hisses out a breath, and heaves.
With the grinding crunch of shattering stone, Noboru tears the statue apart. He is left holding the entire work of art sans everything below the knees. But even a nubby statue can be a deadly weapon in the hands of a true master.
Hoisting the insanely heavy stone man up over his left shoulder, the hulking shinobi turns to face his strawberry blond opponent fully. Abruptly he throws himself into a dead run, closing the distance between them with startling speed for such a big man, not to mention the fact he's carrying a god damned statue! As he comes upon his lithe opponent he heaves the stone man up off of his shoulder and brings it around in a mighty horizontal swing. he isn't aiming for anything in particular, but with a weapon so big he really doesn't have to.
Zach feels it before Ayame points it out. The attention he is getting from Jira is almost nauseating. In fact, it gave him pause in the middle of that strike, which was all Rust really needed to land the Cement Upper. The pipe strikes the psion fully in the chest, lifting Zach clean off the floor and into a low arc.
Zach twists, and lands poorly, tumbling once before coming up in a low crouch. He throws a glance towards the young woman, fighting down a slight gorge. "Noticed," he finally says before looking back to Rust. Close fighting works. Sort of. However, Zach has always been better at Rust when it comes to controlling range. Standing with a slight wobble, Zach regains his stance and hurtles into a lateral move, thrusting an open palm towards Rust as he does so.
The basketball sized globe of Soul Power all but screams towards Rust as Zach continues moving.
COMBATSYS: Ayame counters Huge Random Weapon from Noboru with The Sunrise Of Broken Dreams.
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Noboru 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Zach
Jira maintains this stare, even leaning back against the wall until- the ninja grabs a statue and swings it at the knife girl. This catches the pair offguard and they watch the huge weapon end up being countered. Their joint attention refocuses on Zach in a dead, motionless stare. The fight continued to heat up, with a ball of energy flying towards the toupee wearing pipe man, a curious arching of the brow folds in as they wonder how he will react.
But this wondering is observed passively at the edge of their vision, the main focus is entirely on the other psion.
The strawberry blonde risks a side glance toward Zach and Rust again. The two seem to be exchanging blows nicely. Nothing to worry about there for right now. Maybe she shouldn't distract him by pointing out the lone spectator that seems fixated on him though. Something really weird is going on there.
Brown eyes flick back toward the towering shinobi. Who is he with, anyway? Clans aren't unheard of, but they're not all that common either. Right now she doesn't even know his name. She's regretting not paying better attention to people who's name weren't Zach on the fight card. He doesn't defend himself in any way that she would have expected, instead chosing to walk right through her flung chain. It's a clear message and lesson in one: pussyfooting around with this guy isn't going to cut it.
Ayame exhales. She has other options to fling his way, but is there really any point? She flicks her right knife closed then open again, clearly thinking of how to contend with a man capable of what she's seen out of him so far. And then he takes it another step farther, as if to demonstrate the gulf between their physical prowess, and a blatent disregard for ancient, albeit unsettling, architecture.
"Hey, you should buy that statue dinner before you handle it like..." The stonework snaps free, small crumbs of rock scattering out into the open air and across the ancient balcony. "...oh." the girl grunts. He lifts the weight that would crush most, Ayame included, to his shoulder like a mild burden. The blade user flicks her blade closed again, taking a step back, eyes widening as she slides the butterfly knife into a sheath in one of her belts.
"H-hey..." Her right hand drops to a pouch dangling against her hip as she takes another step back. Fingers deftly slip into the pouch, withdrawing a six inch metallic tube. There's no where more to back off to, the balcony ends here in a closed door that returns to the palace. It's face him or get crushed.
Her left hand slides against the tube, finding the inscribed rune to which she can feed a piece of her chi signature. Powered by that touch of energy, the tube suddenly expands to twelve times its length, becoming a glimmering metallic staff of roughly six feet in length. Red energy courses over its surface, illuminating the otherwise dim arena. She was fast in drawing and readying it. Noboru is fast in closing the gap between them. The time she had left was miniscule but just enough.
The end of the metal weapon is jammed against the wall as Ayame ducks, propping the other end of it into the path of the stone weapon, causing the torso of the figure to smash into the butt end of the staff and shattering against the point. That her weapon isn't horribly bent out of shape from the kinetic force slamming against it is testament to its craftmanship and perhaps the energy reinforcing it.
Gritting her teeth, Ayame knows this might be one of her few chances to land a hit, rising up through the cascade of broken rubble, staff gripped with both hands, the energy surging into flickers of flaming orange as she slams the weapon into Noboru's chest. Ducking down again, she sweeps around the other way, aiming for the back of his knees in a desperate bid to sweep him to the ground amid the ruin left of the likely irreplaceable statue. "Hope the old guy doesn't get mad," she murmurs, though her heart doesn't seem to be in it for the moment, mildly spoked as she might be by narrowly avoiding a severe crushing.
COMBATSYS: Zach successfully hits Rust with Blast Punch.
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Noboru 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 1/------=/=======|=======\=------\1 Zach
Howard shakes his head, tapping against it with his palm as he pulls himself back to attention around the time Zach's pulled himself up from his crouch, tapping Ol' Rusty on the ground once as he draws it down and back. He moves about, walking horizontally - he doesn't stand in place as much as he used to.
Zach starts to throw his palm just as the sound of Noboru's... particular feats of strength start to come to bear.
"Whoa!" The way he's facing, it could go either way between the glob of yellow sunny goodness turned into strength or just the sight of Noboru going after Ayame with a statue - either is kind of a worrying sight, at this point, but only one seems to be headed his way.
This isn't quite the case. Howard takes in a deep breath and starts to move in against the globe, when part of the statue shatters in a violent display of debris in expression of Ayame's close save...
One decent-sized piece flies at such speed that it tags Rust's shin, and that's all it takes to cause him to botch what could be about as clean a leap as he could hope to make, a tiny flinch all he needs to start kicking off the ground too late. The globe slams into his abdomen, and his eyes go wide as he hits the ground, skidding on his knees as the wind escapes his lungs.
"C-Cripes," is all he offers to the combination of desecration, destruction, and debris as he pulls himself up a bit with Ol' Rusty as something of a crutch. Zach, masterfully, puts significant distance between them. Distance that Rust can't quite cover in a pinch... but he tries, going off into a jog.
Part of the way, he goes in low - did he trip? No, Zach should be very familiar with that technique where he goes low and swings outward with Ol' Rusty in an attempt to tag him at the utmost maximum of his reach... especially when it is just that, right down to the letter.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Zach with Foundation Layer.
- Power hit! -
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Noboru 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 1/-----==/=======|=======\====---\1 Zach
The Community for Respecting Artist's Proof's is going to have a field day with this. Nobody has time to deal with that CRAP.
In full charge, statue half-way through the crushing swing, Noboru puts together the pieces of Ayame's trap. Just before she lifts her staff into place he has planted his right foot and is starting to slow, heaving back in an attempt to reverse his forward momentum. But even he can't overcome basic physics of this magnitude. So, the statue smashes into chunks of priceless art, his forward moment grinds to a shaky halt, and his feisty young opponent comes hurtling out of the wreckage at him.
"Hnnh." grunts the shinobi softly as the chi-charged staff slams into his muscular chest. The blow is hard enough to straighten him up from his slight stoop, golden-brown brows half lifting in mild surprise at her recovery speed.
Noboru masters himself quickly, however, and is already starting to turn in per suit when she spins around to aim the second strike at the backs of his knees. Rather than hit cleanly, her staff cracks hard into the outside of his right knee. The joint buckles and he starts to fall into a kneel. As he falls he whips his left hand forward and down, twisting at the hips and shoulders to throw both his strength and body weight behind a falling half-fisted punch aimed at the top of the lithe girl's skull. A heavy breath escapes through his silk mask from the effort behind the blow. He is clearly trying to spike the young woman straight through the stone floor. Dust and chunks of rock fly off of him in every direction, though more clings to his silk coat and mats down his shaggy hair.
Zach's attention is not completely on the man in front of him; Jira is creeping him right the hell out. That, plus the vibe from the whole island, combined with Zach's inexperience in dealing with psychic impressions, combine to keep Zach sufficiently on guard enough to dodge the incoming strike, and the psion is laid out flat.
The boxer coughs once or twice as he picks himself up in a low crouch before wiping at the corner of his mouth with one hand. It comes away with a smear of blood, drawing a frown. He has to choose now, between the fight and addressing the issue of the creepy young woman.
Zach's not about to insult his friend like that. Staying in that low crouch, the psion reaches for that wellspring of psychic energy, drawing it to the fore in preparation to end the fight quickly.
COMBATSYS: Zach focuses on his next action.
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Noboru 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 1/-----==/=======|=======\====---\1 Zach
COMBATSYS: Ayame blocks Noboru's Temporary Diplopia.
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Noboru 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 1/-----==/=======|=======\====---\1 Zach
Jira casually unslings her backpack and opens up the foremost, smallest pouch up and putting her hand into the pouch. After a few seconds she pulls out a small bag of freeze-dried cherries, a bit of exertion crosses her face as the baggie is left to hover on its own on a cloud of purple, shifting psi energy, spinning with the halo-like donut cloud produced while the pouch is sealed, and pack slung back on. A waiting hand rests below the spinning baggie and the energy disperses into the air.
The stare returns to the psion as Jira brings the baggie up and tears a little corner off the top, opens out the hole, and pinches out a dried cherry. A small bite bifurcates the fruit and she patiently, silently chews on it.
It was in the course of battling one powerfully built Pacific High student that Ayame discovered tactics for taking on larger oppoents. The chipping away at them, the wearing down their offenses, the elusive dancing around of their attacks to try and induce exhaustion. But that was a long time ago, and the young man just a schoolboy. This situation is different. The threat of pain much higher from the force she's seen the man produce.
The exchange happens so fast that those untrained in such things would be unable to see Ayame's sweeping staff and Noboru catching himself before being felled, retaliating so swiftly it's a question of instinct more than deliberate skill that Ayame is able to react at all. The long weapon makes it awkward to simply move it into place given the angle of Noboru's incoming crushing fist. Instead of anything particularly graceful, she drops to the ground, landing on her back, hands slamming upward, medal rod intersecting the shinobi's force aiming for her skull.
The blow sends dust flying up into a violent cloud about the two, Ayame finds her back driven against the stone floor with bruising force, but her grip on her weapon proves true even as her arms tremble at the exchange of kinetic energy between the two. A grunt escapes her lips as she forces herself to keep moving, rolling onto her side, tucking her weapon out of the way so that she can spin to her feet without it getting stuck on the floor.
On her feet, she's poised to attack again, this time trying to put the advantages of her weapon to use in staying a few feet away from Noboru. He has instilled in her a healthy respect for his brute force, but can he contend with her weapon? Spinning her staff up onto one shoulder, Ayame winds herself up, positioning her feet against the stone, then twists herself in the opposite direction. If Noboru hasn't gotten to his feet yet, the crimson hued staff will threaten to clock him in the side of the head. On his feet is another matter all together, considering his height advantage.
Of course detail, however, is that while the staff is a blunt weapon, the chi trailing behind it is anything but - his keen eye would detect it, the sharp, bladed edge of energy that threatens to slash him every bit as much as the metal threatens to bash him!
It might just be the heat of the moment, the thrill of it all - fighting a good friend in what is admittedly a strange and not entirely welcome place. The little small details of things that don't quite seem to add up... like someone way back over there... are lost to the fight.
As Zach backs off and gathers his strength, so, too, does one Howard Rust go into a crouch. A crouch that looks more like he's sitting on thin air more than any typical martial arts stances others may be more familiar with.
"You still good?" Howard asks, though it may just be a token question at this point, as he holds Ol' Rusty in front of himself, horizontally - left hand gripping the top on one end, right hand gripping the bottom on the other. Zach gathers up his psionic energies for a decisive, powerful blow...
...There doesn't seem to be that same sort of feel to whatever Howard's stance is accomplishing, in comparison. His fingers clench the pipe about as tight as they can. There's even a bit of a squeal from the rusted metal that makes up the pipe that has, somehow, seen far more adventure than its poor condition should see it having ever survived.
"All right... all right, Zach, I'm... comin' right at ya," Rust gives but a heartfelt promise through a gravelly, tired voice. There's a strange upward twist of his left wrist, as his lips start to vibrate. Every part of his body becomes tense, muscles locking in place - yet fighting the pull of physics to yank his body downwards, backwards into the ground.
His entire body shakes. The noise eminating from his lips shaking grows a little more intense.
Suddenly, against all laws of physics, his entire body glides forward, shaking as though a combustion engine powering a vehicle, vibrating somehow with such force that he is able to slide across the ground without... well, any proper means of locomotion normal people use, like... not doing that.
Across a balcony to an atmosphere tinged with fear and despair, the sounds of Rust's shaking fills the void where kiais and screams often have through the years as he... moves... towards Zach at a speed that shouldn't be possible for such a notion, the eyes of one Howard Rust narrowing to show that, yes, this is an act of complete and utter sincerity.
Howard moves to plow into Zach and, upon contact, push him along and carry him a ways until he falls backwards, to scoop him up by his feet and fling him away.
This may or may not answer every question Ayame has had, ever. (Or add new ones.)
COMBATSYS: Zach interrupts Bulldozer EX from Rust with Heartbreak Shot EX.
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Noboru 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|==-----\-------\0 Zach
COMBATSYS: Noboru blocks Ayame's Power Strike.
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Noboru 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|==-----\-------\0 Zach
Noboru kneels with his right hand braced on the rubble-strewn floor, cartilage crackling loudly in his right knee as he forces the joint to flex. All the while he studies Ayame, watching her roll away from their clash and easily regain her feet.
Rock dust puffs out of the big shinobi's hair as he nods his shaggy head in respect to the young girl. She is talented, but that doesn't mean he is going to slacken the pressure. Not in the slightest.
Ayame's necklace clinks quietly on Noboru's neck as he lunges off the ground on his left foot. His left hand snapping out just as the blonde's staff is about to make contact with his shoulder. The weapon impacts his gloved palm with a loud 'slap!, chi slicing through the skin of his palm to draw a thin trickle of blood. Sadly, the wound doesn't even seem to register with the ninja.
Fixing his opponent with his mismatched gaze, the shinobi tightens his fingers about her staff and hauls hard on the weapon, attempting to drag her in close. Having settled his weight back on both feet, right knee seeming a bit stuff but taking his weight, he tosses his end of the staff away and snaps out his right hand. Thick, iron-hard fingers try to close around Ayame's throat and squeeze. If he can get the grip he will hoist her into the air by her throat and wheel sharply around to his left, whipping her effortlessly through space for the second time this fight before releasing her, sending her flying across the balcony. Luckily he won't be aiming for anything solid this time. He just wants to throw her.
Zach gives a short nod before Rust starts the charge. /Shit/, he thinks as Rust seems intent to simply run him over. An flash of inspiration jolts through his mind as he sets into an astride stance and chambers for a right straight. The boxer reaches for his birthright, that font of energy that wells up from his very soul and brings as much of it as he can manage into that clenched fist. Then he gives that mass of power a spin. The whole golden blur takes on an almost drill-like shape as the larger man closes the gap between them.
Zach throws a corkscrew of a straight punch, torquing in the shoulder and at the hips as he drives the punch directly at Rust's heart. Rust literally drives into the fist at as optimal a spot as can be managed, and even then, Zach fails to negate the man's forward momentum. Zach slides back on his heels several feet before his knees go out, forcing him into a crouch again, gasping for breath.
It's not too often that Zach tries to be the immovable object. He doesn't usually succeed at it.
COMBATSYS: Noboru successfully hits Ayame with Strangulation.
Grazing Hit
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Noboru 1/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Ayame
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Rust 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|==-----\-------\0 Zach
Slowly eating the cherry as the action spices up with the cherry, Jira's gaze remains on the psion and his impressive attack against the vibro-hovering pipe man, despite taking a hit himself. Flicking the other half of the cherry into their mouth and slowly chewing and swallowing both halves, grabbing another dried fruit and plucking the whole thing from their fingers. Sucking on it and getting back to chewing. A small distraction to keep the important part of their focus on the psion they're eyeing up and tune out everything else.
The crushing chi bash intended for Noboru's exposed flank is guarded against once again. The two seem to be locked in an intense contest of solid defenses with few openings being left between the two of them. But the strongly built man's reaction proves effective at finding a gap - his hold on her weapon, the weapon she clearly refuses to release even as he pulls her off balance in test of strength that he easily wins, is something that can be turned to his advantage in this moment.
Expecting to be pulled in closer still, she's digging her heels in, gritting her teeth, when he pushes the long weapon into her side, staggering the smaller fighter and leaving her guard lowered for the snake-like snap for her neck. A squeaked breath is squeezed past his grip as he hefts the featherweight off her feet, her eyes locked on his all-seeing blue eye... But in spite the perilous position she finds herself in, he will intuit a lack of panic in that very moment.
The reason becomes clear when her right hand slips from her staff toward her belt, brushing past that sheath and extracting her butterfly knife from before in one smooth motion. She intends to stab him - at the length he's holding her, it would have to be his, likely in the bicep somewhere; anything to draw blood right now.
But Ayame's counterplay is thwarted handily when she finds the world spinning about her just before being flung again. She flies head first initially but manages to tuck, flip, and land, annoyingly, on two feet, skidding and spinning through the dust strewn by the shattered statue before coming to a stop facing Noboru proper.
An exhale, a breathing gasp, an appreciation for oxygen as she flicks her knife closed and pockets it before bringing her right hand to her throat and considering Noboru warily. "Time to stop..." she pants, "...going easy on you."
She glances to the side to check on the other two participants. She and Zach have, miraculously, managed to stay out of each other's way for now. And in that moment, Rust is... wait... how is he- is he hovering?? The moment is lost behind the blindingly bright cascade of energy Zach retaliates with before the girl braces herself, facing Noboru again.
If her words were indicitive of a change of strategy, that becomes more clear as she tightens her hold on her staff with both hands, gritting her teeth. An aura of energy begins to swirl about her feet, starting off a rich azure at the level of her ankles, but shifting to violet, then red as it rises up around her. Her clothes and hair flutter, disturbed by the draft of chi the young fighter is pulling from the world around her. It seems easier here, she thinks to herself, the island itself is rich with something - a tainted twist of life, an abundance of power...
COMBATSYS: Ayame gathers her will.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Noboru 1/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Ayame
[ \\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Rust 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|==-----\-------\0 Zach
The battle between the unstoppable force and the immovable object is a contest that would draw the eyes and hearts of all the spectators who bought hard-won tickets to this place... if there were any.
There would be but few witnesses - the fighters, and some other individual - to see the seeming tug-of-war between Howard Rust and Zach Glen, who both seem to have traded their roles. Rust, representing a rapid, seemingly unstoppable offense. Zach, for when he calls upon his power... representing a solid, seemingly immovable defense, as the fist dares to hold back the construction vehicle-like charge.
Howard's face becomes an intense mix of emotions. Pain? Thrill? His teeth are clenched so tight it's a miracle none of them crack as the energy driven through Zach's fist washes over him. He wills his body, to the best of his ability, to keep pushing forward, as Zach puts it all into opposition.
When the contest fades, there's one last, guttural cry of pain as Rust ends up flopping over on his back. Colors nearly leave his vision. His senses overwhelmed with yellow, infiltrating the senses beyond sight. Everything is yellow, as he rocks back and forth for a while.
His limbs straighten out. He coughs.
"Eghghldglsghd." He eloquently says, as he somehow finds it in him to sit up. He feels the blood pumping again, and something in his chest stings - cries for relief. He coughs some more as he doubles back over, coming up to a stand.
"Zach... Zach... ah... Zach, you... you okay?" Rust wheezes out. "Looks like you... ah... you... you, ah, took that... that worse than I did." That's adrenaline talking, clearly, mistaking Zach's crouch for being in a position of greater weakness.
Howard's stance is shaky. In fact, he just about trips to a knee as he steadies himself up, sucking in breath to somehow stay there. His head is swimming. He sways, back and forth - the sort of message that lets an opponent know they're about ready to be finished... and yet... and yet...
Somehow, some jovial element - in spite of such incredible pain and exertion having taken it out of him - he reaches out with the tip of Ol' Rusty to prod Zach a bit. Maybe a little too hard, for what's a friendly prod.
"You, ah... you still good? Good for, for another like that. I... I am." He coughs again, wiping at his mouth with his left hand. He either doesn't notice, or completely disregards, the blood that seeps out the side of it and onto said forearm and glove. "'m good. I got, I got one more in me... y'know... that's, ah, that's... how I am..."
He probably should belatedly take Ayame's suggestion to sit down, duly noticed as he has one hand on his knee, though he tries to draw back Ol' Rusty to affect some appearance of readiness after the prodding.
Fast, and nimble, with no small amount of skill. Noboru really admires the young blonde. If he only had half her natural talent...But, he doesn't. Ah well.
The big shinobi says nothing as he watches Ayame settle into her charging stance. Quietly he studies the various pulses of psy and chi energy flowing through the room, watching the odd play of colors twining through his bad eye's field of view. The energy is, tainted. Channeling it like that will probably come back to haunt the girl sooner or later. He could warn her, but, talented or not they aren't friends. She likely doesn't even know who he is. You have to be friends before giving someone a random 'don't touch the evil' warning.
Noboru doesn't bother dropping into any sort of stance of his own.With his feet braced shoulder-width apart, the dust-covered ninja holds his right hand idly at chest-height. Giving the wrist a slight twist, he threads a thin leather cord through his thick fingers, twisting it this way and that in a practiced pattern. All the while he stares at Ayame with mismatched eyes. The ball is in her court now.
COMBATSYS: Noboru focuses on his next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Noboru 1/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Ayame
[ \\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Rust 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|==-----\-------\0 Zach
COMBATSYS: Zach blocks Rust's Weakened Random Piping.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Noboru 1/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Ayame
[ \\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Rust 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|==-----\-------\0 Zach
COMBATSYS: Noboru has left the fight here.
[ \\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Rust 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\=------\1 Ayame
> //////////// ]
|==-----\-------\0 Zach
COMBATSYS: Rust has left the fight here.
> ////////////////////// ]
|=======\=------\1 Ayame
> //////////// ]
|==-----\-------\0 Zach
Zach wobbles as the pipe comes in, shoving the tip aside before it does some kind of harm. He staggers back to his feet before attempting to close with Rust. The larger man's on the ropes, so to speak. Have to end this now before he deals with that creepy chick.
One step follows another. And then another. They aren't strong steps by any stretch of the imagination. The psion's not building up much momentum or anything, but he's moving forward, at least.
...until he trips on the rock and staggers forward. He has just enough control left to bring up some energy to protect his noggin, the hazy construct looking like a helmet of some kind. Zach leans slightly to try and drop the impromptu headbutt right on Rust's head!
Left alone, Ayame manages to build up energy, catch her breath, and, yes, observe the comedy of errors playing out off to the side following the impressive exchange between Zach and Rust. The older fighter seems to be prodding at her partner, while Zach retaliates with a violent stumbling. "Hmph," she grunts. She could probably shift focus for half a minute to double team Rust and maybe buy Zach time to catch his breath before shifting attention back to the brutishly strong stranger...
But then what will he do, left unattended? She's seen him in action - letting her guard off him for a moment would be taking a great risk even compared to some of her earlier risky maneuvers. No. She'll stay on him, she decides. A quick mental review of what she's seen and heard out of the mysterious unknown is conducted before her brow furrows slightly. Wasn't he commenting on the psychic residue to Zach? For the boxer to pick up on something like that isn't a surprise, but to have the sentiment echoed... Psi, then? But she's seen nothing of any such ability. What's the deal?
"You said you saw something like this once before," she remarks, dredging up the comment made several minutes ago. "I'm curious as to where that might have been..." She hesitates, but not for long, wrestling with a contest between curiosity and a need to keep Noboru on the defensive lest he go slinging any more statues toward her. After a moment, she plants her left foot behind her then pushes off, charging him once again.
The crimson energy of her staff flares to life once more as she attempts another acrobatic, risky technique against the ninja. Gripping the weapon horizontally in front of her, Ayame lunges from a meter out, attempting to slam the heated metal against Noboru's throat while in the process of vaulting herself up and over.
If the technique works as planned, she'll hopefully flip down behind his back, pulling hard on the weapon lodged under his chin, managing to flip him over her own back to slam the back of his neck against the stone. If it goes poorly... well, she might just end up dangling from her staff behind him which would be all together problematic, to say the least!
COMBATSYS: Rust fails to interrupt Headbutt from Zach with Condemned.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Noboru 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Ayame
> //////////// ]
|==-----\-------\0 Zach
COMBATSYS: Rust can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Noboru 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Ayame
> //////////// ]
|==-----\-------\0 Zach
As Zach steps forward, Rust steps back. For all the signs one might attribute to one being nearly overwhelmed by psionic energy into submission, he puts on the airs of being almost the opposite. With the confirmation that Zach seems still good to fight - or at least that Rust takes the forward steps seriously enough - there is a certain air to the atmosphere between them.
Good friends who've worked through a lot of turmoil, through their own personal crises, through their own foibles and follies. The balcony's dreary feel with the lineup of warrior statues speaks volumes about how fights may well have been carried out in times past... or even present.
All that matters is the battle. On a fundamental level, this is a regular teaching often embraced by the serious martial artists. To call Howard Rust or Zach Glen anything less than that would be an insult to their dedication - nay, perhaps even an insult to the very grounds where their blood and spittle join an unseen legacy of others who have shed such.
As Howard holds his pipe back, there's that glint of a man who's still got the willingness and spark in him to keep the muscles flexing, to keep the neurons flaring, to keep the spirit burning. He coughs once - the only real weakness he allows himself as his eyes narrow. The curiosity-filled discussion of what this place IS... what it means... all is lost in the middle of the fight.
With a sharp kiai, Howard lunges forward with an outstretched pipe to move to intercept Zach with one incredible blow, the likes of which has left its mark upon many.
Zach trips over a rock and headbutts him with a shiny helmet-like shield formed of his own soul given strength, and trips in such a way that the pipe pokes just past Zach's left side.
Rust gets a flash of yellow in the face, blinding him to that single color as his lips stretch comically in an oval shape, both eyes bugging out from the shock of not quite being headbutted by Zach - it's more in the process of this lunge, he headbutts Zach's psi-powered skull, and this exchange is, for this instance, one that proves unfavorable to a skull simply powered by ruggedness and muscle.
In the shock, he lets go of Ol' Rusty. It flies at a rather disconcerting speed, almost like a bullet, to embed itself in the base of a statue near where Noboru and Ayame still have their exchange. (It could have been one of their legs, easily.)
Howard himself flies backwards, skidding across the stone balcony with an echoed string of consonants randomly mashed together in a facsimile of recognizable human language, a psi helmet-shaped bruise on his face. One knee is bent upwards, slowly straightening itself out as he throws a hand up.... and lets it rest on his face, for whatever that symbolizes.
COMBATSYS: Noboru counters Charged Combo from Ayame with Punjab Lasso.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Noboru 1/----===/=======|=======\=------\1 Ayame
> //////////// ]
|==-----\-------\0 Zach
"Vega has produced a similar effect by hitting an area with a large blast of power." Noboru responds idly to Ayame's question, continuing to weave that thin leather cord through his thick fingers. His mismatched gaze does not leave the lithe blonde's face, even as a rusty length of pipe goes hurtling past his left knee and imbeds itself noisily in the stone wall.
Full of chi as she is, the chi prodigy can likely feel an answering spark of energy in Noboru. it's much weaker, but distinct. Despite all his strength his talent with energy manipulation is very modest. It would be surprising if he could summon any sort of physical projection. How he can sense energy so acutely with such a weak signature is anyone's guess.
All of this happens in the time it takes Rust to fail epically. Noboru's aging team mate has just ended his backward skid when Ayame launches into her flying attack. The big Ninja stands stoically, watching as the flying female grows ever closer. He makes no attempt to raise a guard, but that leather cord drops from his fingers and starts to fall toward the ground. It's surprisingly long...And, it's unraveling out of his right sleeve.
The shinobi's thick fingers clamp lightly around the cord before the end brushes the floor, and his left foot steps back a step. There is a soft 'tswip' as his right hand flips about in a tight circle, ending with his fingertips pointed toward Ayame's ever-approaching face. The loop at the end of the cord cuts a neat arc through space, the slight twist in his wrist causing it to open wide. Neatly, even delicately, the loop drops over Ayame's head to land squarely on her bare shoulders. It is simple then for Noboru to give another sharp twist of his wrist and punch his right hand forward and down. This causes the loop around his lithe opponent's neck to constrict about her throat, then drag her face-first toward the ground.
Though it should be easy for Ayame to catch herself before she hits the ground, her attack has been thwarted, and she now has a thin braided cord slowly strangling her. She also has some new information on the ninja. The Punjab lasso is supposed to be a fictional weapon, and obviously not the weapon of a brute brawler. It's the weapon of someone who respects timing and planned execution. And as if to underline that point, the big ninja juts out his right thumb and a six-inch blade slides out beside his pinky with a soft 'snick'. He uses this to cut himself free from the cord still leading up his sleeve, then takes a single step back. The mechanical blade 'snicks' back into his sleeve once his hand has relaxed.
Zach watches Rust go down, and looks around for a moment. Noboru and Ayame are still duking it out. There's still that creepy girl, being /way/ too interested in Zach. The boxer opts to investigate this. He figures Ayame will handle Noboru. Or she won't. He's hesitant to get in on this fight. Too many things could go badly.
So the psion dredges up a bit of energy as he walks toward where he senses the mystery spectator is. It might take him a moment for him to get there, though. He's still a bit out of breath.
COMBATSYS: Zach gathers his will.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Noboru 1/----===/=======|=======\=------\1 Ayame
> ///////////// ]
|======-\-------\0 Zach
Jira, still plucking and chewing cherries, takes obvious note of the psion's approach. They're perhaps on the fourth fruit at this point, fifth waiting between their fore and mid finger on their left hand. Quiet, put probably out of politeness (who wants to hear obnoxious chewing sounds?) and never letting their gaze stray. An eerie, almost dual aura emanates from them. Though, it is more distinctly from one source than the other by incredible amounts.
In the end, they don't move from their place on the wall, just waiting to see what's to- HOLY CRAP, THE KNIFE GIRL IS LASSOED! and earning their head to turn briefly to the encounter between ninja and knife gal.
It all happens in a flash. The strip of leather he was kneading, the unexpected extention, the lightning fast reflexes, precision timing. Ayame lands on the other side of Noboru, stopped short by the seizing loop around her neck, her attempted attack completely foiled. The jarring, sudden stop by force against her throat is definitely going to leave an impression, and the inability to breath would also be far more debilitating if she didn't act swiftly.
One step is made to test the length she has to work with, which, prior to Noboru cutting the strap, isn't much. But she feels the slack a second later and is already taking another step away. Her right hand drops to her belt, fishing out the knife stowed earlier and flicking it open in the very act of drawing it. Holding her staff out with her left hand, angled, braced under her arm in preparation for warding off a potential follow up attack, Ayame swiftly cuts the lasso free, allowing it to fall to the stone floor.
Flicking the knife closed and stowing it, Ayame lifts her hand to her throat to rub it. That's the second time he's tried to strangle the life out of her. She's sensing a bit of a theme here. She's going to need to watch out for that. Gritting her teeth, she slides her hand back down to her staff to join her left. The man has proven to be effective in all manner of defenses and has forced her to pause and reconsider her approaches now.
A survey of the rest of the arena reveals Zach is busy approaching their lone, creepy spectator, leaving her to deal with the giant shinobi. A soft 'huff' of annoyance escapes her lips. Someone with true fighting spirit might relish the chance to complete the duel once initiated, but she will never be accused of that. A swift, painless end would be her ideal under any situation!
"Che," she finally grunts, sounding a touch hoarse as she twirls her staff twice as she waits to see if he counter attacks immediately. Seeing that the burden of choice is on her once more, she decides to go aggressive. Moving her staff to her side, Ayame leans forward, right hand releasing its grip to be held in front of her. Once again she kicks off into a sprint, taking to the air. Her weapon is whipped out, first from low to high, threatening to catch Noboru in the chest or under the chin. Then, right hand moving up to double her hold on the staff, she brings it crashing down toward the top of Noboru's head, a surge of viridian chi adding as certain weighty momentum to the swing, making it even more dangerous than a metallic staff to the head would already be!
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Noboru with Power Strike.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Noboru 1/---====/=======|=======\=------\1 Ayame
> ///////////// ]
|======-\-------\0 Zach
Zach stops just short of where he suspects Jira is. Her whole presence is just... /weird/. This whole /place/ is just weird. A couple of options present themselves to Zach. He could confront the strange presence, but with Rust sleeping off the fight and Ayame still running around, that seems like a horrible idea. In fact, persuing ANY course of action with Ayame still around would be a bad idea, really.
As much as he's made a sort of personal peace regarding the young woman, he still recognizes the fact that she really does not like him. Perhaps she'll go away once the fight's done. Perhaps not. But the only way to find out is to end the fight.
Zach spins on the ball of his right foot, pointing at Noboru with the index and middle fingers of his left hand. Golden energy surges down the psion's arm, firing flickering arrows of Soul Power at the large ninja that arc and curve strangely. The beams seem to home in on Noboru as if guided by a will. Which, in fact, they are!
The big shinobi's hands drop to his sides as he takes a second step away from Ayame, good eye watching, always watching as she frees herself from the lasso.
"Hrr." Noboru rumbles in idle reply, stepping forward to meet the strawberry blonde's charge. It looks as if he might walk right through this attack, too, but a stroke of skill, or possibly luck, sees the tip of Ayame's staff swishing past his chest to crack him hard on the chin. The chi-infused blow is significant enough to stop the ninja in his tracks, head rocking back so that he stares slightly dazedly up at the stone ceiling. Then, the second blow flashes down to bang him right in the center of the forehead.
Staggering back a couple of steps with a rumbling grunt of pain, Noboru's right hand slides out of sight beneath his dusty blue coat. Giving his shaggy head a violent shake to clear it of stars, the hulking shinobi takes another step backward from Ayame, then snaps his right hand out in a quick but typically lazy-looking backhand. A fist-sized grey sphere of soft material flies out of his hand and smacks into the ground between Ayame's feet.
Smoke curls lazily up from the sack. Oh no, it's a BOMB!
Jira slowly watches the knife... staff girl battle the ninja, with a nice double smack. Their attention returns to the psion as they do an attack that... Jira had only seen on cheesey cartoon soaps at home. More interest is garnered by this attack, and full focus resumes on the other psion. Followed by swallowing and biting the fruit between her fingers into halves.
COMBATSYS: Ayame fails to reflect BOMB! from Noboru with Midsummer Fantasy.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////// ]
Noboru 0/-------/--=====|=======\=====--\1 Ayame
> //////////// ]
|======-\-------\0 Zach
Her cracking bash delivered successfully, Ayame lands hard, drawing her staff back up quickly. A clean miss would have left an ugly divot in the stone floor but Noboru's forehead spared the balcony such a fate... Of course, it's about to receive a far more destructive threat an instant later. Expecting retaliation, the blonde is readied, staff raised at a defensive angle, ready to sweep left or right to deflect whatever might come her way.
And then it comes, the unexpected lob... the projectile isn't flying with dangerous speed, which causes her to double-think what it is she needs to do about it. If it had been a speedy dagger or thrown shuriken, she might have reacted on instinct. But this thing is something else all together.
It plops down at her feet and the girl's brow furrows. Realization hits an instant later, eyes widening in surprise. "Cute-" the word escapes her lips as she kicks backward, her left hand letting go of her staff to extend outward, palm forward. There's no time to avoid it, she knows, but she has other options to defend herself at her disposal! A discus of shimmering pink begins to manifest just past her open palm, the girl shifting her focus into creating a barrier that should mitigate a lot the blast-
The detonation washes over her in the same instant, another statue being knocked free, toppling off the wall to shatter in the courtyard below. The ceiling in the balcony over the epicenter collapses inward and the weight of falling stone causes the already severely damaged floor to give way out from beneath it.
Ayame's own defenses either weren't swift enough to barricade herself, or not strong enough to withstand the explosive force. Whatever might have happened was lost from view behind the maelstrome of gunpowder, dust, and flying stone as the assaulted girl flies backward and crashes into a tumbling roll several meters away from the explosion before coming to a stop.
Ears ringing, hair frayed, clothes singed and torn in places, she looks like she might be out completely with the several seconds that pass before she moves, stirring first, then rolling to hands and knees, then up to her feet, using her staff as a brace for a moment before she's finally upright. Eyes blink a few times, her arm lifts to wipe across her face, smearing no small amount of dust off her face in the process. For several seconds, she can't really make out where anyone else is, leaving her standing there while waiting for the cloud to clear. She would try to make no sound herself, hoping the obscurring dust could hide her from Noboru, but she can't help but cough after a few seconds.
COMBATSYS: Noboru blocks Zach's Homing Shots.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////// ]
Noboru 0/-------/--=====|=======\=====--\1 Ayame
> //////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Zach
Noboru's coat and hair are both blown back from the force of the explosion, a tidal wave of dust washing over his already grimy form. His good eye flicks up to the ceiling with a sense of quiet satisfaction as part of it collapses. His explosives are home-made, so it's good to see his experimentation yielding such great success.
The big shinobi's self admiration is cut short, however, when he notices a series of psycho blasts rushing in toward him from Zach's last known direction. It is then that he digs deep, summoning up that tiny spark of chi he is able to control. it might not be much, but he has learned to use it masterfully.
All of the dust is forced out of Noboru's hair and away from his coat in a sudden rush, riding the invisible wave of chi he has projected out of his body. Holding the energy around himself like a stable force field, the ninja swings his left arm up and slams it through the incoming psycho blasts in one wide arc, each detonating in a flash of brilliant gold as they impact the invisible barrier.
Once the last of the blasts have exploded the shinobi lets his chi flare away in a sudden burst of invisible force. it will be a while before he can manage that trick again, but it seems to have done it's job well.
Noboru glances mildly in Zach's direction before turning to stalk off into the cloud of hanging dust. After he has taken three steps or so, both his chi and psy signatures vanish completely. For those who are used to sensing people through those links it is likely a strange experience, seeing the ninja's form growing vague in the dust but not being able to feel him.
Stepping around the chunks of fallen debris, the shinobi pads straight for Ayame without further tricks. Leather creeks softly as his left fist clinches, and once he has stepped into striking distance he lashes out with a hard left hook, fist swinging up from his hip on a collision course with the side of the girl's head.
Zach's never really relied on sensing people via personal energy. In fact, it's too new a skill set for him. The ninja heads into the dust to go after Ayame, and Zach heads in after him. He hears the shifting of the rubble, the creaking of the leather. That... is close enough. Zach hops, planting a hand on a piece of ruined statue, and vaults the rock.
Zach sails towards where he /thinks/ Noboru is, firing a sort of Superman punch at where Noboru's jaw might be. Soul Power assists the punch, gliding down around the arm. Noboru ought to have plenty of warning regarding Zach's approach, so the punch should be easy to avoid.
COMBATSYS: Ayame blocks Noboru's Medium Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Noboru 0/-------/=======|=======\=====--\1 Ayame
> //////////// ]
|======-\-------\0 Zach
She cuts the cough off as quickly as she can muster, by sheer will power and a small amount of watering of eyes, she keeps her body from unleashing another one until the urge finally passes. If only she knew it was in vain against the perceptive eye of the shinobi stalking her now. She's prepared, in that she does expect another attack. This would be the perfect opportunity for him; her chances of stopping him short are slim, especially with the ringing in her ears leaving her partially deafened to any approach - especially in light of how silently he can move from what she witnessed earlier. The dust haze limits her vision. And she isn't feeling too great after the bomb that just blasted her away either.
But yes, she is still prepared. Her hands meet near the center of her staff before twisting in opposite directions, the weapon coming apart in the center, forming two three foot segments she wields in either hand. The gesture is completed just in time when he strike. The smaller sized weapon allows her to move it to intersect his punch just in time, the metal ringing from the force of his strike as Ayame is driven to the side a few steps.
It has to be now, she tells herself. She needs to go all out and take him down. "All right, this has been an interesting experience, but..." One more clean hit from him is definitely all she can withstand! Gritting her teeth, the girl lunges, now that she knows where he is. The staff segment in her right hand surges to life with bright crimson energy, visible through the dust. The segment in her left hand becomes a violent blue-green, every bit as bright.
It is a flurry of attacks Noboru will have to withstand now. The energy coursing over the right staff is sharp in nature, contact will likely prove to be very damaging with each impact. The energy on her left, on the other hand, is heavy, bringing crushing weight to bear as if she was swinging a heavy mace instead of a metal tube. "It's time for you to fall!"
The attack is swift - twelve decisive strikes, six from each side, aiming for limbs, joints, his head, trying to get a strike against his sternum if his guard is down. In the end, it will exhaust the energy the energy Ayame has been building for this moment. But if she can connect, maybe that will be enough?!
COMBATSYS: Noboru dodges Zach's Straight Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Noboru 0/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Ayame
> //////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Zach
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Noboru with Final Solstice.
[ \\\ < > //////// ]
Noboru 0/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Ayame
> //////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Zach
'wif'
If Zach's flying punch had a sound effect, that would be it. The bulky ninja's head cocks slightly, left hand sliding back from where it just impacted with Ayame's staff. then, abruptly, he ducks. The psycho boxer goes flying by over his head toward the edge of the balcony, having hit nothing but air.
That critical moment is probably the straw that finally breaks the camel's back. Noboru is in the process of straightening when Ayame's first blow smashes like a sledge hammer into the side of his head. Stumbling upright, he back peddles, her second swing slicing deep into his forearm as he lifts it to block. The third crashes unguarded into his chest, and then there is no blocking them. The big ninja is forced back two more steps until his back fetches up against the pile of ceiling rubble, and there he leans as his strawberry blond opponent's blows hammer into him.
Rather than loosing consciousness, the big ninja's good eye fogs over and grows oddly detached. Once the series of blows ends he slumps down into a seated position, back propped against the rubble, and stares foggily up at the girl before him. He blinks once, lets out a snorting breath that blows a cloud of dust away from his mask, then crinkles up the corners of his eyes in what might be a hidden grin. He doesn't have anything to day. If he did, it would probably be something like, 'Yeah, that one hurt.' Little trickles of blood patter from slashes in his dirty coat, but he'll probably be OK. He's unreasonably tough.
COMBATSYS: Noboru takes no action.
> //////// ]
|=------\-------\0 Ayame
> //////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Zach
COMBATSYS: Noboru can no longer fight.
> //////// ]
|=------\-------\0 Ayame
> //////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Zach
Zach lands lightly on one foot. The punch had effect, even if it wasn't immediate. He turns to regard Ayame, his stance not relaxing even a little. The fight that the organizers wanted (sort of) is over. But Zach is still here, and so is Ayame.
"So," he finally says, trying to present as collected an image as he can. "Where's that leave us?" On the one hand, both fighters are worn down. The fight was not won easily. On the other hand, a fight here would probably be less favorable for the young woman than it would be for Zach. Ayame's a lot of things, but she's not a fool.
Jira jumps as the balcony starts breaking, making a slow pacing jog a bit closer to the door and stopping. Just incase the need to flee is present from structural instability. They give up on trying to track anyone through the dust, simply remaining still and sweeping their gaze only occasionally to other parts of the room.
Her assault completed, Ayame staggers back a step, the lengths of metal in her hands dimming, her relentless enery fading at last. She takes another step back. She gave Noboru what-for, but he's not out, she can tell that much. She's winded from her combination and aching from the stress his attacks put her through and the effort required to find openings in his guard. All in all? A very worthwhile opponent. And not someone she wants to run into again if she can help it.
But he stays slouched against the wall and little by little, she lets herself relax. Her expression still neutral, she presses her weapons together, twisting to lock them back into place with a metallic ring. Grunting, she hefts the weapon up over the back of her shoulders and drapes her arms lazily over the end of it. "So you've seen Vega's handiwork. Interesting." she ponders out loud, still considering the mystery of this participant. Who is he with? He said this island reminded him of that same destructive power. Something worth reporting back about, at least.
Pivoting on her feet, she faces Zach directly then, expression shifting back into a smirk, "Well, well, look who managed to beat up a senile old man." She pauses, spinning her staff off her shoulder into her hands. Her guard seems to be down, but it's hard to tell with her. The girl does cant her head to the side a little, smirk fading, taking on a different sort of edge - an intensity that is hard to place, since it lacks her normal hosility. "Seriously, if you're that guy's friend, make him get checked out." There's something horribly wrong with with Rust's constent state of confusion, in her mind. "The workover you just gave him probably didn't help his condition either."
Ayame tosses her staff into the air in a lazy spin. By the time she grabs it out of the air on its descent, it has returned to its more diminuitive length of six inches before being quickly stowed. She seems to be looking down, paying more attention to something else as she paces along the balcony. "Us? There is no us. What do you think this is, some kind of relationship?" The girl crouches, finding her left knife from before, picking it up, wiping it on her skirt before flicking it closed and sheathing it as well. "No... I think you should be more worried about that weirdo scoping you out, because that seems to be more her thing."
She pauses to dust herself off, "Whelp, I'm going to look around. Don't get yourself killed!" With that, Ayame pulls the heavy wooden door at the end of the balcony open and takes her leave.
COMBATSYS: Ayame has left the fight here.
> //////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Zach
One moment Noboru is slumped against a pile of rubble, dust floating about him in thick clouds. The next, one of those clouds has rolled over his position. When it clears the big Shinobi is gone. Tiny droplets of blood are splattered out in all directions from where he had been sitting, obviously flung out onto the dusty ground to confuse anyone who wanted to follow. It's safe to say he's somewhere on the island, nursing his wounds, watching.
Meanwhile at an Airport:
An angry African American standing at around 5'5" is pacing back and forth as he stares down one of the staff.
"What do you mean you lost my invite? It was in my suitcase!"
Only reason Aranha doesn't have his suitcase strewn about is that when it comes to his things he's a very, very organized packer. A relic from his former life as cat burglar. If one thing was out of place and he had to search for it, it meant that it was more likely he'd be rudely interrupted.
He knew exactly where he put his invite and he knew it was no longer there. He took at his cellphone and saw a website that had the fight listings changed and that his name was replaced by Ayame.
"Oh hell naw! OH... heeeeell naw! I know I didn't just get USA Sports Teamed. Do I look like Lucky Glauber? Do I look like motha ****in Lucky Glauber? This is some bull ****."
Aranha storms off. There maybe some trees destroyed in his wake."
Aranha bows.
Zach doesn't say anything to Ayame. That went way better than he was hoping. Instead, he walks over to Rust to see to the man's injuries, tending with both first aid and a helping of restorative injury. He looks around for Noboru for some of the same reasons and to perhaps get some answers, but like a good ninja, he's gone.
That just leaves the creepy, intensely intent woman who watched the fight. Instead of approaching, he just sits down at Rust's side. He's pretty tired himself at this point, but he still looks in Jira's direction.
"Can I help you with something?"
Jira just eyes the psion for a moment, finishing the last half of fruit between their fingers and making a careful walk over to him. In the same move they unsling the bag and open the front pouch, stashing the baggie of dried cherries back in, sealing the pouch again, and swinging the pack onto their back oncemore. Saying nothing the entire approach until just before the man, and getting to one knee before him.
"Be still, let's get this trouble out of the way and perhaps we can move to somewhere more private for conversation." Jira says, in a cold dual-tone voice. The perfect syncronization of a young woman's light and cheery voice, mixed with a much deeper, aged, and gravelly male uttrance. A rush of white aura surrounds their body, pouring out psycho energy and lifting their hands towards the psion, pushing the amassed cloud towards him. The energy takes on a more green, earthen colour and would seek purchase to his flesh to jumpstart his natural healing.
Zach frowns, both at the dual voices
Zach frowns, both at the dual voices and at the incoming energy. "No," he says firmly, and brings up a veritable wall of energy to intercept Jira's offering. "I can take care of myself." Once diffused, Zach pulls his energies back into himself, kickstarting his own healing processes as he had planned to do after he had seen to his friend. He could have talked while catching his breath.
Bruises and scratches fade and clear up even Zach regains his feet. He glances at Rust, and then lifts the larger man up in a sort of fireman's carry. He wobbles slightly; Rust is a good deal taller and heavier than the boxer. Zach takes a moment to focus his Soul Power inward, and finds it sufficient to carry Rust to where he can get better help.
"I'm going to take my friend to get some actual help," he says in a tone that says he's not about to put up with any arguements, "And then we can have this conversation. Fair?"
COMBATSYS: Zach has ended the fight here.
Jira silently stands and turns to walk to the exit in silence, save for their boots clacking on the occasional hunk of debris and the floor, to the exit and preparing for the trip back home. No need for further argument or input.
Log created on 17:22:42 08/02/2014 by Rust, and last modified on 06:41:37 08/04/2014.