Description: It's a disaster. Mt. Fuji has erupted, and nearby Southtown has to deal with a high concentration of hot ash in the air. It's unbearable to be out here - uncertain as to the eruption plans when chaos and fear rule the streets, one Howard Rust finds himself having to drive over to the YFCC to help ensure those forced to take shelter within have clean air to breathe. Along the way, he comes across a young man who seems stranded outside, offering to give him a ride to safety and shelter... but someone - or something - else has different ideas in mind...
Downtown is usually a place brustling with life. People have often passed through and did their daily business. Kids are often in the district to see the latest toys or gadgets for sale.
Not this time.
With the phenomenon happening at Mt. Fuji, the news made a warning for everyone to remain inside and to stay out of exposure for too long. Occassionally in the streets, you will see a homeless man with a sign of 'THE END IS HERE'. It may be a gathering of cultists at this point. In the middle of the streets is a young man who had been lying unconscious for some time.
However, as he finally starts coming to, he grumbles while dragging himself up to his feet. He staggers about, looking up towards the sky, "Uggghh, what the hell? That was a god damn cheap sh---"
His eyes lift up to see the heavens erupted with darkness and ashes falling from the sky. He gazes at his motorcycle, now singed with the ashes. As Jiro looks around, he sees that the streets are empty and homeless men are holding up signs about the end of the world.
The apocalypse has started!
"...I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN IF XIANGFEI WON!"
Jiro mutters, "...God damnit."
Just down the street, the roar of wheels screeching against asphalt breaks the dreary silence of the uncomfortably warm, ash-laden air. It is a noise that dares invade the emptiness of the streets (outside, of course, the doomsayers and those who have nowhere to go) in the wake of an ecological disaster that threatens so many lives, disrupting the livelihood of so many more... it's a time that nobody should really be caught outside.
Given strict speeding laws in Japan, it's no surprise that the speed of an oncoming, ash-covered beaten-up truck under-delivers on the promise made by the squealing of wheels - aside from taking a turn maybe a little more dramatically than necessary.
As it draws closer to the screaming, frustrated young pizza delivery man, the truck starts to slow... until it comes to a full stop aside them. The dust-covered window rolls down, to the visage of... someone in a gas mask? There's something purple on their head, their thick, muscled left arm (huh, usually the wheel's on the other side on cars here) visible that terminates in a thick work glove. Whoever this is...
"Hey," they speak up, as they look out the now open window, swishing away the thick clouds that choke the streets, the haze that hides so much from view, "couldn't... couldn't help but notice you look a little, uh, stranded, look," he coughs once, "'scuse me."
It's kind of impressive he could have seen the young man and that motorcycle from such a distance considering how low visibility is - let alone how he's willing to go as fast as he does.
"I, I gotta hurry over to the... the community center," he gestures vaguely, "been asked to, to check ventilators, and-- look. Look." He waggles a finger. "'m not gonna keep you out here, don't want... want this crap comin' into my truck. They're good people there, and... and I ain't letting you st-stay outdoors like this."
He looks back over inside his truck. "If, ah, y'don't mind havin' much legroom... my toolbox's there."
As Jiro is slowly coming to, he continues to survey his surroundings, "Ugh, what the hell happened here?" He rubs the shoulders for a moment, then he looks over towards his motorcycle. "...Hopefully, this thing can still operate." He wanders over towards it, pulling it back upright.
"...Shit. Some of the ashes got into it."
Suddenly, a flash of light is behind him.
"What?!"
When he turns around, he sees a truck is nearby and it comes to a halt. A figure in a gas mask makes his way towards his view. "...Eh?" He squints at the stranger who is speaking from the window.
"..Hrm."
How did this all happen? What exactly happened? The young man looks confused. However, when the stranger offers him room to keep him out of the danger, a faint smile grows. "..Yeah, thanks." He doesn't see any of the strays around. Hopefully, they found a place for the time being.
Jiro brings his motorcycle over towards the back of the truck, and then he makes his way to the passenger seat. Opening the door, Jiro adds, "Thanks.. I'm Jiro Kasagi."
"Careful with... with that, got a buncha... filters, other parts there," the guy in the gas mask calls back. Fortunately, there's just enough room underneath the tarp to place the motorcycle there. It's awful convenient to have just enough space for that - almost like maybe he could've planned for that happenstance.
Nah, this is clearly coincidence - but an awful convenient one for all involved, as the other door is unlocked to allow the young man inside.
"Howard Rust," the guy in the driver seat replies. His name, in theory, carries a lot of weight nowadays - a name sometimes bandied about in regards to some recent wars that took place throughout the better part of Asia. A war hero.
And also someone who does not seem to have a great taste for headgear fashion, unless that's... no, that thing on his head cannot be hair. What the hell is that?
He exhales loudly as Jiro comes in. He flexes one of his elbows to work out a very loud pop of his joint before settling that hand back on the wheel. "Nice... nice to meet you. Okay. Let's, let's just... get outta the ashes."
Once Jiro is in and buckled up, the man who helped pick Jiro up out of the horrible weather and dreary post-volcanic eruption atmosphere, for whatever reason, feels it fit to narrate what's gone on although by all accounts pretty much anyone and everyone should know what just happened.
"Volcanic eruption's... k-kinda done a lot in," he states as he takes another turn towards the famed community center, "lotta kids're... stranded where 'm going. Everyone's still... just, workin' out the whole, y'know, the evacuation," he speaks as he drives, "never seen the streets so... well, dead, since 2009, back when... when a buncha nasty types occupied Southtown... drove Geese Howard out."
"Y'remember that?" He asks as he looks over to Jiro, as if fully expecting him to be on the up and up. He coughs once. "'scuse me, it's... it's been almost... one kinda disaster after another, sometimes--"
Magaki sneers.
The tall tanned figure, his distinctive silver hair whipping in the ashy winds, glares scornfully down at the city beneath him, standing heedless of the inclement weather on the precipice of a downtown skyscraper. Hands in the pockets of his distinctive white suit, the split hem of his jacket fluttering, he has no need to maintain his public facade. There are no witnesses here. He can do as he pleases for once. Besides, the plan has already commenced. It is only a matter of time.
"Human spirit... feh."
The words he forced out during his public address cause his stomach to roil in protest. Feigning respect for these primates is effortless, of course, as is everything, but nevertheless repels him. Their struggles are pitiful, their evils small-minded and their virtues pathetic. He cannot understand Mukai's admiration for these creatures, nor will he ever. But he will pretend to do so when it suits their needs.
For now, he can delight in what is to come.
The fabric of reality has already begun to unravel. He was sure he had sensed a paradox occur and had rushed to the scene, but upon observing the surroundings he has, disappointingly, sensed nothing of interest, particularly not that idiot lying in the middle of the street. Bored, he has been admiring the spreading ash, with little activity to witness below, but a screeching vehicle then disturbs his thoughts, summoning his irritated gaze. A truck has stopped to pick up the collapsed young man. A typical display of the vermin's irresistable social impulses, like that of ants in a hive. Yet as he focuses on them, he senses the signatures of fighting spirits from the two, something that distinguishes them, if only very slightly, from the masses. Perhaps there is an opportunity to be found here after all.
Magaki cracks his neck, smirking, and leaps.
Cutting Rust off in mid-sentence, the tall figure lands directly on his hood with a heavy impact, sinking into a crouch as the metal dents but otherwise appearing unharmed, his slight smirk unchanging. It is the enigmatic Magaki, who has spoken only the day before in a public announcement for a tournament, appearing without disguise, revealing a strength he has yet hidden to the world. But here amidst the ashes, who is present to see it but them?
"Gentlemen," he intones, "the qualifiers for the Gaia Tournament begin. Are either of you worthy to be champions of earth?"
He has a courtly manner, even when being an ass.
After getting into the vehicle, Jiro leans back and takes a more relaxing position. His body slacks, losing the tensions and the young man lifts his head up.
Ah, Rust. "Pleased to meet you, Rust." The youth re-opens his eyes and he turns his head towards the older man with a blink. "Hrm, I see. So, the volcanic eruption is responsible for this." At the mention of stranded kids, Jiro grunts, "I'll help out, then." He rubs the back of his head, "I am not sure what the hell I woke up in, but..." He shakes his head, "...I cannot believe this shit happened in mere hours---"
Pause.
"2009?" Jiro turns his head towards Rust, squinting. "...This is 2007, what are you talking about?" He looks rather confused at this point.
However, that confusion is short lived as a figure lands straight at the hood with a heavy impact. "What the hell?!" As a white suited wearing man appears before the two, Jiro is immediately lunging out of the truck, "Okay, looks like we got company, old man."
Jiro twitches for a brief moment, glaring over towards the man. "Gaia Tournament? What the hell are you talking about?" He is already acting on impulse, the ivory flames illuminating to life as he is taking a more aggressive stance.
"I don't know who the hell you are, but if you want a fight, I'll be sure to give you one!"
COMBATSYS: Jiro has started a fight here.
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Jiro 0/-------/-------|
"JESUS CHRIST THAT'S THE THIRD ONE TODAY," Rust spits out a strangely coherent, loud series of words without stutters, pauses, or sudden drops in volume as someone jumps on the hood of his truck, the vehicle skidding to a halt as he makes a sharp donut of a turn to try and minimize the impact damage of potentially hitting whever this 'third' person is to throw themselves at his truck. So much so, he misses the talk about what year it currently is.
It probably puts either the driver, the current times, or both into a disturbing perspective - to say nothing of the odd question this invasive stranger asks by announcing themselves via truck hood jumping.
The truck coming to a complete stop, the driver pushes open the door and steps out with the further wave of his left hand, a futile gesture to clear the ash-choked air for visibility's sake. Something sticks out of the left side of the toolbelt, through a pocket torn underneath its bottom... a rusted length of pipe? He's a bit slower to come out compared to the deliriously battle-ready hitchhiker he just picked up.
He just might be in a bit of awe - how long has that guy been out here in this dust-filled air? To really be able to yell and speak defiantly like that.
"Qu-qualifiers?" Howard thinks to ask as his right hand goes atop the makeshift hilt of the rusted length of pipe, drawing it smoothly through the torn toolbelt pocket as he arms himself. "I, I dunno about him, but we're--"
The bright light of Jiro's flames pierce the ashes, casting a great illumination upon the truck and surrounding, empty street.
"--I'm in a hurry," he corrects himself, pointing Ol' Rusty outwards to the strange figure who seems to like saying hello by jumping on truck hoods, "if... if it's a fight you want," and who the hell doesn't want one in Southtown, it being Southtown and all as he points Ol' Rusty down and away, starting to bounce up and down by his feet in about as ready a combat stance as he can be given that he hasn't had much chance to stretch, "better make it quick."
Could this man with that length of pipe be...?
COMBATSYS: Rust has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
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Rust 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Jiro
COMBATSYS: Jiro has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
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Jiro 0/-------/-------|
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Rust 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Magaki has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Jiro 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 [W] Magaki
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Rust 0/-------/-------|
"...Hnn."
Magaki's expression is a twisted mingling of wry amusement and frustration. On the one hand, the predictability of these people is ridiculous. On the other, how tiresome it is that none of them can excite him in the slightest. Their so-called determination is nothing but their mindless drive to live and conquer whatever patch of ground or hollow ideal they see immediately before them. No foresight. No perspective.
No dignity.
"Yes," he says dryly, "men such as you may well be the best Earth has to offer." If he were the self he has been forced to project for so long, he would have made that sound like a compliment. Now, he does not bother. Such efforts never came to anything to begin with.
Which is why they have been forced to this.
"But only thus shall we know."
His gaze sweeps the two fighters, young and older. He does not recognize the boy, who does not appear in any recent documents he has read. But the man with the pipe-- Magaki's smirk broadens ever so slightly. Perhaps his senses have not failed him after all.
"Howard Rust," he states matter-of-factly, "Hero of Nepal. You may prove a champion of Gaia. Show me your strength."
He ignores Jiro.
It looks like the old man can fight as well. He seems to have drown out a weapon of his in preparation for the fight.
It had been a little while since Jiro got into an actual fight. It was with Alma before he went to make his pizza delivery for the day. Jiro wanted his fight. However, Rust is right, "We're in a hurry, so let's get this shit over with." They have to get to those kids soon. As much as he is dying for a fight...
Lives come first.
However, Jiro is sneering a moment later as the attention has fallen off of him. Clenching his fists, Jiro is already annoyed with this strange figure.
"You want to ignore me...? Fine."
Time to pay the price.
Jiro charges right towards the strange challenger. He makes off in his mad dash to close the distance. Then, Jiro lunges forward to give a hook punch towards the man's cheek with an annoyed look.
The aging Hero of Nepal - as he is so presently titled - drops his stance a little more at mention of it, taking a few steps away from his truck as a cautionary measure. Is he an associate of that giant woman - and thus by proxy, Vega? He frowns underneath that gas mask, as though suddenly the stakes grew a little more dire about the day.
A volcanic eruption, some people being stranded in the youth center as it's unclear as to what the evacuation plans might be in the coming days, and the urgency over the phone that he come over there and make sure the air inside the building can remain clean and free of dust puts an even greater urgency to what he has to do, in comparison to what situation he and this acquaintance have found themselves in.
"I, uh, I didn't... didn't quite catch what you said," he concedes humbly, inadvertedly ruining the dramatic flow of the weight of the strange man's words as he draws up his pipe to strike in a lun--
Jiro's aggressive, powerful approach sees him have to pull back his pipe at roughly the last second in order to prevent the possibility of accidentally striking Jiro's punching arm.
Rather than salvage the current intended strike, he crouches slightly and sticks a leg out in a quick, straight thrust to put some more space between the three of them - an odd sort of harmony between Jiro coming in high, and himself coming in around the middle with all the strength and grace afforded by his training in Kyokugen to reinforce and strengthen his technique.
It is marred only by a sudden cramp that runs up the thigh of the attacking leg.
COMBATSYS: Magaki dodges Jiro's Aggressive Strike.
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Jiro 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 [W] Magaki
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Rust 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Magaki blocks Rust's Light Kick.
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Jiro 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 [W] Magaki
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Rust 0/-------/-------|
Magaki sneers.
His movements are oddly unnatural even as they appear effortless. He almost slides forward, body twisting -- or is it contorting? -- just enough for Jiro's fierce punch to pass a hairsbreadth away from contact, Magaki's gaze never shifting from Rust all the while. When Rust unleashes his straight kick, the silver-haired man has already lifted his leg with preternatural speed, bringing it down in a jam to redirect Rust's strike such that it is forced low and to the side, missing direct impact.
"Do not trifle with me."
His words are low, his eyes unblinking, his smirk unchanging.
"And do not /meddle/!"
With a sudden roar, those eyes lighting up with savage glee, he pivots so quickly he becomes a blur, an explosive side kick aimed toward Jiro's torso and aimed to send him flying into Rust's truck.
COMBATSYS: Magaki successfully hits Jiro with Strong Kick.
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Jiro 1/------=/=======|=------\-------\0 Magaki
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Rust 0/-------/-------|
That incoming fist had intended to strike the man unaware while he was keeping his eyes on Rust. Jiro, in fact, wanted to make the man pay for ignoring his presence. That is a mistake that Jiro will capitalize on. However, as the fist makes its way towards the man's face...
"Whha--"
His body position contorts in a weird manner, sending the fist flying right past him and sends Jiro flying forward all the way as he put a lot of aggressiveness into that strike.
By the time that Jiro turns around, an explosive side kick was aiming at his torso. Jiro charged right into the blow, preparing to take the impact to put him that much closer towards the man for another vicious attack.
"Hggkkkk!"
This stops Jiro dead on his tracks. He coughs up blood as the foot caves into his stomach. He grits his teeth, trying to bite back against the pain before he is sent flying across the air. The impact against the hood of the trunk makes a thunking noise as Jiro's head bounces back against it.
"@%$&!"
Jiro twitches, rolling to his side and he holds his head in pain while the other clutches to his stomach. Jiro staggers back to his feet, and then he ignites those flames once more. "Damn you...!"
Seeking to close the distance once more, Jiro launches himself forward. His fist slowly grinds against the ground as flames ignite like a match. The match flame roar to life as Jiro seeks to drive that uppercut against the man's face.
"I've been known for medddling! So I am here to piss on your cheerios!"
A wince can be heard through the gas mask as the pipe-wielding man's foot is cast off to the side. They don't say this much among the higher echelons of martial mastery, but any good strike - if caught at the right (wrong time) - can quickly prove painful even if you are the one that happens to be delivering them.
Especially when you haven't been given much time to stretch, to really loosen the muscles that Kyokugen gives a workover to. Even as Jiro is kicked aside, for that split second, Howard doesn't look that much better as he seems hesitant to put much weight or strain on that kicking leg.
"This guy's... this guy's a piece of work," he advises in much too calm or quiet a tone, some of the coherency probably lost through the filter, "h-he means business." Kind of an understatement, in the wake of a vaguely apocalyptic scene where most people dare not venture outside into the ashes.
This warning has never stopped countless plucky teenagers before Jiro Kasagi, and let's be honest, he won't be the last of them either. He knows well from the years of the futility of getting young men and women of curious amounts of fighting talent and strength to listen to him about it.
Nor will he be the last to scuff or dent his truck. The sound of the car shuddering by the impact of Jiro's body doesn't get a head turn from its owner. He knows exactly what that sound signifies. If only you could see that frown.
Howard is no match for the mysterious man's speed or flexibility on the onset, as he steps forth (to the protest of his cramping leg and, oooh, now that leg joint is popping loudly too), lunging to strike that pipe somewhere into Magaki's clothing as he just barely misses brushing against Jiro's flame-clad arm. There's a sense of something being held back--
No, there isn't. He's trying to get a hook on them, somehow, to lift them up by the tip of Ol' Rusty and give them a fling somewhere into the asphalt, the sidewalk, anywhere to loosen his footing and give him a good toss.
COMBATSYS: Magaki parries Jiro's Wild Ember!
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Jiro 1/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0 [W] Magaki
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Rust 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Magaki fails to interrupt Wrecking Ball Swing from Rust with Medium Punch EX.
- Power fail! -
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Jiro 1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 [W] Magaki
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Rust 0/-------/------=|
Futile.
Magaki's sneer has become a grimace, so thoroughly is he wracked by disgust. This so-called hero before him is old and hapless, his body failing. The boy calling upon his chi is as transparent as can be. It would be so easy to snuff him out, to reveal his true power and tear through Jiro with a single blast, and show him what true mastery of chi is. But it is one thing to reveal his true personality before these fighters, and another to reveal the scope of his abilities. He does not care what they tell others about his nature. There is no difference they can make there. If he should fight a mightier foe, however, at a juncture when the consequences matter, he will not allow them forewarning of his techniques.
He restrains himself, and allows himself a lesser pleasure.
As Jiro rushes towards him with a chi-imbued uppercut, Magaki detects that Rust is striking out with that ridiculous pipe of his, but that he is just a bit too far out of reach to make direct contact, and so ignores it. Instead he focuses on Jiro this time, and with the edges of his lips quivering in mockery, raises a single finger.
"Fool."
Suddenly Jiro finds his fist has stopped. The flames ripple and strain against him, and though his arm may tremble and push, he cannot advance any farther toward Magaki's face, stopped inches away by some invisible force.
"It is a simple matter to--"
Magaki's eyes widen.
The pipe was not intended to strike. It was intended to hook onto his clothes. What a stupid, petty ploy. What an absurd notion. And yet he did not expect it, did not expect this fox-like cunning, and his fist lashes out in a rage, but it is too late, a moment too late. He is masterfully thrown off his feet and hurled to the ground, crashing down with barely enough time to break his fall, ashes smearing his jacket. He immediately rises, again a blur, seemingly unharmed, but his lips are twitching and his eyes are widened. Widened, and focused squarely on Rust.
"Even rats can bite, I see," he rasps.
There is annoyance on Jiro's face. That boy brings his fist out to impact against the man, but he is denied when that single finger is raised enough to stop his fist dead on its tracks by an unseen force.
There is a look of surprise of how humiliating that it is to find himself in such a position. To be humiliated in his efforts. There is a snarl rising from the young man.
"Bastard...!"
...It hungers.
However, Jiro's inner rage expels when he looks back at Magaki with a bemused look. That pipe smacks the man across the face. The moment that Jiro sees that the man is now focusing on Rust after getting smacked across the face...
Jiro takes advantage of it.
This time, he takes the low point. He is bringing his foot down to give a quick sweep of the leg to knock Magaki off his feet. %
The Hero of Nepal does not rest on his laurels at the mysterious man's tumble, Ol' Rusty pointed at them from the new distance afforded between the two of them (plus or minus whatever distance Jiro assigns himself to in relation to either).
His left hand brushes against his exposed right forearm as the scalding ash tries to find purchase upon him. Nothing about the air out here invites comfort. The uncomfortable wamrth, the darkness of clouded skies, the thickness of the very air... but he makes an attempt to be one such reassuring element.
"Jiro, I--" His attempts to communicate something, an instruction, or some sort of comparison, is left hanging as they go charging in yet again. Jiro's cry of 'bastard' drowns out a breathy 'dammit' as he follows after him at a slower pace. He can't quite close the distance as quickly as Jiro himself can.
"Look, I'm, I'm short on... on metaphors today, all right," he sounds vaguely apologetic somewhere in the mask-filtrated words that come out of his mouth, "but y'know, sometimes... sometimes you just can't choose your fights, or--"
Or how your ally that you met all of two or so minutes ago throws off one's assault timing. Howard thinks that Jiro's probably more of an upper body to face kind of guy, believing he's moving in such a fashion that if he himself moves and strikes low, the two can keep striking while being out of one another's way - judgment afforded by years of experience.
Experience cannot predict everything, as Jiro goes low just as Howard himself thinks to point the pipe low in his approach. One of his knees pop loudly again as he suddenly jerks the pipe upwards to redirect his own swing to - once again - save himself from potentially hitting the aggressive, nearly berserking teenager.
Their movements are clearly not in perfect synch, but they are strangers.
COMBATSYS: Magaki blocks Jiro's Quick Throw.
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Jiro 1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 [W] Magaki
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Rust 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Magaki blocks Rust's Random Piping.
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Jiro 1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 [W] Magaki
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Rust 0/-------/------=|
Magaki is furious, but he won't be provoked into taking any risks. He can see their movements clearly now, and his humiliation will not be repeated. He jams Jiro's kick with his own leg redirection they way he did before, and follows Rust's pipe as it redirects until he is able to snap out with one hand and deflect it, his arm flowing perhaps a little unnaturally beneath his ash-stained jacket. Poised in a pose with one knee up and one arm outstretched, he allows himself another smirk.
"You are an uncoordinated lot," he scoffs. "But is that not human nature? To be inexorably drawn together, only to fail to understand the other's heart."
His arms whirl, silver hair tossing majestically.
"Shall I tell you?"
A palm strike erupts toward Rust's face, aiming to smash the mask he wears and whatever else lies beneath.
"What lies in the heart of man?"
Admittedly, Jiro had not been listening to Rust. His desire to put his fist right on Magaki's smug face had been a more attractive affair. In fact, Rust's words fell on his ears similar to the teacher from the Peanuts' television show. The kind that goes 'womp womp womp'.
Jiro's foot is met with Magaki's own leg and then theyoung man finally finds himself redirected. The young man is thrown to the side by the loss of balance. He gradually ends up tripping and falling on his face.
"RRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAARRGGGHHHH!!!"
Jiro slams his fist to the ground in rage, then he glares at the silver-haired man. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"
He clutches his face, trying to bring his brain back to normal. He finally starts to calm down.
"...Okay. You said that you had some sort of gameplan, right, old man?"
COMBATSYS: Jiro gains composure.
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Jiro 0/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Magaki
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Rust 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Rust endures Magaki's Fierce Punch.
! VENGEANCE !
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Jiro 0/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Magaki
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Rust 0/-------/=======|
Rust's inability to immediately answer Jiro or the mysterious man can be neatly explained away as the fact that he just got punched in the face as Ol' Rusty flies right out of his hand by the timely block. Struck by a palm strike that flies so fast and true that he doesn't really notice he got punched in the face... or that what words he might say are wheezed through lips not presently able to pronounce the syllables as his head shudders through the incredible physical force that reverberates throughout skin, bone, muscle, and whatever else in between.
The gas mask shatters apart on contact, its pieces all flying out with the force and velocity of shotgun buckshot across the length of the street they all fight upon.
No matter the spite for the human race contained in such a singular aggressive motion, Howard's upper body does not contort or turn with the blow. Holding himself remarkably steady for taking a punch far harder than most he's taken in some time, he swings the leg that struggles with a cramp down low, thrusting a leg downward with such strength that every tap of the ground - or maybe Magaki's shin - resounds loudly throughout.
It repeats quickly and surely, like that of a jackhammer breaking apart hard surfaces, his leg from the knee down coated in a washed-out, flickery color of a rather vague hue. Gray? Green? Blue? (It's not on the warmer end of the color spectrum, but that's about as clear as it gets...)
Underneath his face is a tired-looking, aging man with relatively nondescript brown eyes, the traditional creases that come to one's face from advancing age, and other such unremarkable features. It's not so much how he looks, or how he strikes, or how he talks.
It's almost entirely in his ability to, against far superior forces, somehow hold his ground in some form or another. This may also be just because Magaki is so fast that his mind has yet to truly register that he was just struck in the face.
The foul air that now stands to be sucked into his lungs, a sudden stinging rush of the outside atmosphere, will be sure to remind him in the next few seconds. The kicks are all the answer he can really give to his assailant, vague as to whether it's a yes, a no, or his own counterpoint beyond being the series of kicks they are.
COMBATSYS: Magaki dodges Rust's Jackhammer Kick.
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Jiro 0/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 [W] Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 0/-------/-======|
Perhaps it is Magaki who has yet to learn.
A sadistic thrill runs through Magaki's body as his palm slams against Rust's face, but the Hero of Nepal's sturdiness belies the fragility of his joints. The silver-haired tyrant's eyebrows twitch once, before he suddenly leaps back to clear the distance between himself and his adversaries, forced to make a full retreat in the face of Rust's explosive counter-attack. Shards of pavement fly everywhere, and Magaki raises a palm to shield his face and eyes, glowering through his fingers.
An average-looking man with an average-looking truck wielding an average-looking piece of pipe. But he can endure even when Magaki strikes with his full might. And that useless boy has surprised him by composing himself, this time not succumbing to his rage. It was within the range of possibility, of course, but not what he predicted. Some would find this impressive. Some would find it interesting.
"Hmph."
Magaki finds it irritating.
"What are you against the fury of the earth?"
As ash swirls about him, Magaki's fist plunges toward the pavement, tearing up a sizable chunk of asphault with a single hand, towering strength shown as though in mockery of Rust's efforts, and with a hateful glare he hurls the boulder-sized concrete toward the Hero of Nepal. He sneers still, but his eyes are slightly wary.
Perhaps this world does have a champion or two in some unexpected corners. Well, this too works into their plans.
This is the situation at hand: Jiro is trying to calm down from his rage slowly taking over him. He is watching Rust getting struck across the face, which destroys his gas mask. Tsch... Jiro is starting to feel a bit of the effects of the pollution in the air from the smouldering ashes coming down.
Jiro gives a few coughs, hissing while he staggers up to his feet. "Damn." He grits his teeth. He looks over towards Rust.
And Magaki is giving Rust his full attention. This is an opportune time for Jiro once more. Those white flames erupt from his hands, and then he brings his arms together in a cross. What is he against the fury of the earth?
Jiro has a grin on his face as he gathers himself.
"I AM FURY ITSELF, @#$%^! RIOT CROSS!"
With a deft motion of his hands, Jiro sends the flames flying towards Magaki. The quick rush of the X-marked flames are shooting towards the tournament organizer.
COMBATSYS: Rust blocks Magaki's Large Thrown Object.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Jiro 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 0/-------/=======|
Howard coughs as the hot ashes - like almost all the dust and grime in the world, so far as he's concerned - try to find themselves a new residence inside his very lungs. In the wake of those kicks, it speaks of a moment of legitimate weakness. Vulnerability. Even a man as tough as him is not meant to thrive in this sort of dangerous environment, the hot embers giving passing, scalding sensations on the parts of his exposed skin that they touch.
"Ji--" He tries to call his name as Magaki picks up that large chunk of asphalt from the ground. Where Magaki shows an arrogance with only a well-hidden piece of caution, Howard is very clearly, suddenly afraid for Jiro's well being as he charges towards a man who is clearly... much more than just some ordinary man in a snappy (if ash-stained) suit.
He has no time to finish the yelling of Jiro's name, as that piece of ground is hurled his way. It's coming in too high and too quick. It'd be one thing if it were rolling at him - a few good kicks and he could minimize the impact easy. It's coming high. It's going to hit him in the--
He, for a split-second, thinks to bring his left forearm to ward it off. He grits his teeth. It's not going to be enough. Instead, he crouches down briefly, but the habit of tensing his left fist into a tight ball - one of the telltale signs of his greater talents as a fighter - but his now unarmed right hand does the same.
With a sharp kiai now matched by a series of crackling joints all over - his body fighting over Rust's desire to flex and move when it is now so tense - he thrusts his right hand upwards into the oncoming chunk of asphalt with such strength that he carries himself up off the ground. That infamous Kyokugen variation of the famed rising uppercut punches that are common through some of the more respected martial arts schools of the world.
His right hand, famed somewhat for the weaker grip from injury sustained during the Southtown Invasion, takes charge as it collides against oncoming rock. It shatters it into a veritable cloud of dust, broken apart into numerous smaller pieces that still rain down upon the middle-aged man as he comes back down in a crouch, a wince, and another cough as he fights his left shoulder, and elbow, and wrist, and even his very fingers to wave the whole mess out of his face.
In staggering back a step, his right boot nudges against Ol' Rusty. He can tell instinctually that it's his pipe, picking it back up and pointing it back out towards Magaki even as he visibly struggles to flex out the stiffness.
"I, I dunno about the fury of the earth," he finally comments, coughing once again, "but... if it, if it doesn't wait its turn, 'm gonna... gonna have to get cross," he says as he points Ol' Rusty back down and to his side, back into a much more battle-ready stance. The haze that surrounds him doesn't quite clear up quickly enough to see just what Jiro's doing, or how his latest assault may fare...
He doesn't quite look like much stacked up against the quick, powerful movements of Magaki that are unlike any man he's had jump on the hood of his truck (or acquaint themselves with him otherwise), but there seems to be the promise that he's just getting started.
COMBATSYS: Rust focuses on his next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Jiro 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Magaki reflects Riot Cross from Jiro with Medium Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Jiro 0/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0 [W] Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 0/-------/=======|
Magaki folds his arms and glares.
He has read of Howard Rust. The man's exploits are well-publicized: his slow rise from everyman status, his determined training, his heroism in the field. If there is anyone among Earth's warriors who was not born great or had greatness thrust upon them but truly achieved greatness, it is this Rust. The form of that uppercut is indeed impressive. And the will in that man's eyes will not easily be broken.
Yes, this one must join the proceedings, to be sure.
But this boy's will is not so weak itself, even if his attacks are haphazard and untrained. Magaki can sense the ferocity behind the X-shaped burst of flame which now hurtles toward him. He gaze shifts slowly toward it, allowing Jiro the privilege of being gazed upon for once.
"Your fury--"
Again he thrusts out a palm.
"--only makes you predictable."
And again those flames bend and twist, only to be send blurring back toward whence they can, bringing back upon Jiro all the strength which he sought to bear on Magaki. Though this silver-haired man has shown nothing but basic physical strikes, albeit ones which display extraordinary mastery of unarmed combat, he clearly possesses the capacity to manipulate chi, seemingly at his whim.
"Effortless," he intones, "like all else."
Says the guy who now needs to go to the dry cleaners.
COMBATSYS: Jiro blocks Magaki's Reflected Riot Cross.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Jiro 1/----===/=======|===----\-------\0 Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 0/-------/=======|
The fury was set to tear into Magaki. In that explosive form of chi that rends through the air, Jiro had sought to have it tear and gnaw away at the other fighter. This man, clearly a man who is stronger than both him and Rust, is Jiro's prime target.
However, even though he hears Rust trying to call him, the young man turns over to see that Rust is now focused on the fight again. The young man settles back to a fighting stance to see...----
---The blaze turned back towards his way.
"What?!"
However, Magaki finally gave Jiro a brief look. Does that mean that sempai finally noticed him?! Oh my go--oh wait, no. Jiro is forced to deal with the chi being brought back his way.
"Shit!"
Both hands raised, he uses the meaty part of his forearms to take the incoming blow. The impact from the chi sends Jiro skidding across the ground. "...I hate you."
Jiro charges back into the fight, now seeking to slam his fist towards the older man. First, it is quick punch, and then he brings his right arm to hook across the man's face in an uppercut.
As the dust slowly clears where Howard makes his stand to refocus himself, it becomes distressingly more obvious that letting Jiro rush at this guy - if it weren't already clear as the day before this one! - is really a bad idea, as Howard finds it in his lungs to call Jiro's name clearly, as such...
"Jiro!" Howard calls out as Jiro drops a choice curse as they find themselves having to deal with their own power being turned so... easily? Readily? Does the man and Jiro have the same sort of power? The context isn't quite clear, thanks to the obscuring haze that litters the street thanks to how much ash has been disturbed by their movements and power alike.
Moving in to support Jiro as fast as still-stiff legs can carry him, he moves to close the gap, Ol' Rusty scraping against the ground to summon up sparks to pierce the smog of ash as he moves to slam his shoulder into--
No, he's not! He seems to try to move into Magaki with his back turned, to try and lift Magaki's own left arm with his own wrapped around it, attempting to slam his right elbow into their upper body and his left heel into their shin as he then bows forward to try and throw Magaki over his shoulder via the left arm... and to attempt to strike Ol' Rusty into them, with both arms, if he can get him down in the ground in front, just barely moving his own head from Jiro's own jabs.
"Friggin' time of," he mutters a sentence fragment that is never finished. It may be because of the partial numbness of his jaw from where he took that shot to the face.
COMBATSYS: Magaki dodges Jiro's Fierce Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Jiro 1/-----==/=======|===----\-------\0 [W] Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: Magaki blocks Rust's Armed Pipe Combo.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Jiro 1/-----==/=======|===----\-------\0 [W] Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 0/-------/-======|
What manner of man moves like Magaki? His neck twists oddly this time as Jiro's punch passes by, the boy's movements all the more predictable now that he has been slowed by the impact of his own flames. The silver-haired man strides toward Rust without sparing Jiro another glance, as though his evasion of the brawler's strikes were simply inevitable.
Yet the technical attack which Rust executes forces Magaki back, cutting off any boasting had he planned it. The tournament host is almost fooled by Rust's ash-obscured approach, retreating just a moment before that elbow lashes out, giving him the space Magaki needs for his hand to whip up and soften the blow. In control of the situation now, he is able to raise his leg to avoid the heel kick and step back again, eluding the attempt at a grapple this time. This old man is truly wily. But Magaki sees through him now.
"Hrraahh!"
And he won't be satisfied until Rust suffers.
"Come now, Hero!"
Reversing his momentum, aiming to catch Rust before he can turn around again, Magaki lunges forward, exposing his back to Jiro in what is probably an intentional mockery, and attempts to seize Rust by the back of the neck to hoist him up as he did the concrete.
"Is this your best effort!?"
He has no interest in the efforts of humans, really. But he does delight in their pain, as a child might delight in frying ants under a magnifying glass. And so, with a surge of brutality, should he succeed in grabbing Rust, Magaki will viciously throw the man down to the ground, slamming his head directly into the pavement.
There is inevitable disappintment when the fast moving man twists his neck at the fist flying. "What the hell?!" His eyes widen and then he grits his teeth. His teeth grits and a growl erupts from his throat.
It breathes. It roars.
It lives.
Jiro can feel that rage deep inside of him grow. Those flames of white blaze erupt with a roaring blaze. It consumes his entire body as he enters within his fury. While Rust focuses in on his own tactic to nearly catch Magaki off-guard, Jiro is lunging in place before he sweeps his right arm out to erupt flames in front of Magaki.
"BURN IN HELL!"
The flames seek to erupt and splash Magaki in its wrath.
...Or does it?
Jiro actually dashes through the blaze and he twists his body about as if he was skating. He seeks to lock his arm over towards Magaki's arm and then pull him up for a whiplashing toss.
COMBATSYS: Rust guards against Magaki's Strong Throw.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Jiro 1/----===/=======|===----\-------\0 Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 1/------=/=======|
"Ggkkkahhaghlbl!" So sums up a man who is having trouble taking in clean oxygen through his lungs, made all the more difficult as the mysterious foe gets a hand around their neck. Choking! Gurgling! Mangling the rules of when to use vowels! His feet limply kick out, his left hand going to try and wrestle (uselessly) with the superior grasp that clasps tightly around his neck.
Everything becomes something of a blur as blood rushes through where it can when those fingers aren't crushing him as such it cannot circulate. He gags, he struggles, he makes all sorts of faces as Jiro screams behind himself.
His only recourse is when Magaki makes that slightest motion of his shoulder to prepare to hurl him downwards, at which point he inwardly steels himself by lifting up his legs, finding the courage to risk blacking out from oxygen deprivation to get both his hands on Ol' Rusty, pointed downwards...
Magaki slams him brutally into the asphalt before himself.
Howard responds by catching himself, trying to prime his legs and thrust Ol' Rusty into the ground for stability. This is a sound idea that, by all measures works to stop him from having his face run through the asphalt and layers of ground underneath.
This does not stop a wide range of spidercracks from forming where his knees painfully impact the ground, where it feels the tip of Ol' Rusty stabs itself into his right hand, or the sudden strain in his wrist from trying to hold steady. What looks like a smooth crouched landing is anything but, cracks spreading out for yards and debris kicking up where the ground shakes under his impact. His jaw hangs open as he holds back a series of 'ouches' to represent what severe, mind-numbing pain goes through his knees, ending in a sour face with his eyes clenched tight and his teeth bared.
Ouch. This is one of the biggest instances of the word 'ouch' that has ever come to mind in recent memory. His shins and knees, for once, win the argument to not be flexed much, to not be strained to support his weight in the wake of that powerful toss into the street.
He meets them half-way as he awkwardly turns around, shuffling on his knees as he struggles to pull them out of being partially embedded through the pavement. Behind Magaki, he can see the flames.
As if to place trust in Jiro and give him enough time, to hold Magaki's attention, he makes a show of holding Ol' Rusty in his (hurt) right hand, a little bit of a circular motion as he draws it back. Wordlessly, he swings it down across the ground. Already kneeling low, it's an odd angle to work with when the tip has to scrape against the ground so soon.
Once he works past that part, though, the followthrough should speak for itself as he swings it upwards in that trademark uppercut-like strike of his, the Cement Upper, with a careful amount of spacing to make sure that if any part potentially hits Magaki - likely in the chin, if it does - it's just the tip. He really only can make an educated guess as to Jiro's attacking angle behind him as to attempt to not hit him should Magaki, say, move out of the way and allow the two to potentially collide with one another.
Only so much caution can be placed into a single strike after suffering such incredible pain from the knees down.
COMBATSYS: Magaki dodges Jiro's Medium Throw.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Jiro 1/----===/=======|===----\-------\0 [W] Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 1/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Magaki with Cement Upper.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Jiro 1/----===/=======|====---\-------\0 [W] Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 1/-----==/=======|
When will these fools learn?
Magaki senses the boy behind him stewing in rage and summoning his flames again. He cannot resist his smirk broadening into a cruel grin. How many times will Jiro summon his chi only to have it turned against him by Magaki's superhuman expertise? Perhaps he may still find some amusement in the squirmings of this insect. Though he can see that Rust has partially negated the impact of his powerful throw, Magaki allows himself a moment to ignore the heavyset man and look toward Jiro, casually reaching out his hand to take control of that chi--
"Hrm!?"
Only to see that the flames have already dispersed /behind/ Jiro, as the boy recklessly runs through his own feint, seemingly having anticipating that Magaki would extend his arm to assert his control. Hissing in frustration, Magaki swiftly retracts his arm, this time the limb whipping back as though it were gelatin, in a motion totally unlike that of one with normal bone structure. It was only a moment, and Magaki has escaped Jiro's attack unscathed, but he curses himself for being forced to reveal even that much about his nature.
Distracted and annoyed by these surprises, he turns--
"Gunnh!"
--just in time for his chin to collide /directly/ with the tip of Rust's pipe, hurling him up into the air and sending him crashing down to the ground again. He lies there for a moment before remembering himself and quickly flowing to his feet, as though attempting to pretend it hadn't happened, but his expression remains stupefied.
"You..."
The silver-haired man cannot force out the words. He is choked with fury. He could calm himself, should he desire. He could compose himself and congratulate them. After all, the real purpose is to see their strength.
"You think yourselves worthy!?"
But it is much more satisfying to take out his rage by lashing out a savage kick at Jiro's side -- he happens to be closer, after being flung away from Rust -- and feeling better about himself for doing so.
COMBATSYS: Magaki successfully hits Jiro with Light Kick.
! VENGEANCE !
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Jiro 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=====--\-------\0 Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 1/-----==/=======|
This is ridiculous.
Jiro had started to charge in with that hand to put in yet another foot sweep. Those flames did a good job on serving as a feint. He had a feelingthat the man would try to use his flames against him.
That's why Jiro improvised.
However, as much as Jiro wanted to get a feint against the guy, he has been noticing some strange movements behind the man.
His body kept contorting to avoid some of his attacks.
Jiro has wanted to see how far he can take it. He has heard of some martial artists that can contort their bodies in many ways, but the strangest thing is how far can the body go? That is what Jiro wanted to find out.
That limb retracts in a gelatin sort of way that makes a motion that is definitely not like the normal bone structure. He avoided his grab and such....
This provided Jiro something useful. While Dhalsim, the practicioner of Yoga, does something similar, something felt off about the man.
If Magaki, the man closest to Jiro's range was to get a good look at the young man, he would see tht Jiro's eyes have changed. It was not quite the eyes of an ordinary man. It was a bestial pair of slits that flicker as a grin forms. All of his five senses are enhanced.
The smell of the man, the air in the presence. His entire form of Jiro is enhanced when those eyes manifest.
This also allowed Rust to capitalize on the opening with his pipe.
"Interesting..." Jiro's mind is slowly moving in its bestial state. "... Definitely strange shit." He snarls before he snaps out accusingly, "What the hell are ---" Unfortunately, his heighten senses means that he is more sensitive to the air around him. He coughs and sputters against the hot ashes in the air, "Shit!" He chokes, gasping out for air while he staggers.
This is an opening that is awarding Magaki when he lunges at Jiro with his foot. Jiro lunges towards the savage kick with full ferocity. A roar exclaims from Jiro as his sharpened, animalistic canines are revealed.
His intentions to take the blow head on and put him in a better position doesn't work. Mentally, Jiro kept preparing himself. However, the impact of the powerful blow catches him off-guard and sends him stumbling back. "Daaammmnnniiiitttt...."
And so... those burning flames erupt around Jiro in a burst of an inferno as he plants his right leg towards the ground to catch himself. His eyes narrow and he grits his teeth, those canines remaining prominent. It is clear that Jiro's form is a bit more bestial as the feral side of him bleeds through.
"Don't underestimate me, bastard!" He coughs from the ashes, "I don't know where I am, don't know about this tournament. However, what I do know is that you are not normal... And I am willing to bet that you're not even human!"
Jiro lunges through towards Magaki with his form becoming like lightning. He lunges forward with a twist of his leg to sweep it over towards Magaki's head. However, that is not quite the attack that he is preparing for...
The white flames erupt around Jiro as he turns around. Those flames draw upon his hand as he feels the rush of power within him. "... I am Jiro Kasagi." The 21 year old that passed away back in 2010. Now, this seventeen year old appears before him.
"The Stray Dog. And remember this..."
The flames become a bright light that he tightens his hold of.
"THIS IS MY BANG!!!!"
Jiro twists his body around to slam his fist out towards Magaki. It is a full bore swing of the flame enhanced chi. Those flames seek to tear towards the stranger. As it races forward, those flames converge together to form into a piercing, giant lance.
Sure, there might be some sort of catharsis for showing the likes of... this person away from oneself, even from an awkward, lowered position. Kneeling. One would argue submissive, were it not for landing that single impressive strike, or for how he struggles to stand back up. His legs aren't quite cooperating.
He staggers, he stumbles... for the single heroic effort to stop himself from being splattered all over the pavement, it's difficult to call him as being still in the fight. He about gets as far as getting his right foot level on the ground to push himself up with the help of the pipe when he falls back down into that kneel, a cringeworthy shot of pain going through his ankle. His face says all.
Dammit.
"Jiro!" He sputters again, coughing as more ash invades his windpipes as Jiro gets savagely struck aside with a kick to the side. It's gut-wrenching to watch just how casually the younger of the two seems to be thrown aside.
What can he do, other than move in a crawl while he still tries to soak in what abuse his legs just suffered? Still, something compels him to crawl the distance across this hellish, dust-choked landscape under an impentrenable cloud of volcanic ash.
The debris that flitter in the air start to glitter under the growing white light that surrounds Jiro stands his ground, to let his (lack of) judgment get the better of him, and as Howard continues to tough his way through to standing up straight again, he finds himself having to squint...
"Wait... Stray," he murmurs aloud as he brings his left hand up to his eyes. Hold on, what could this b--
It becomes so bright that he can not bear to stare at it any longer, having to avert his gaze in the wake of Jiro's tremendous, vulgar explosion of his power manifested through chi as it forms into a single, sharp, spear-like shape.
That is, indeed, his bang.
COMBATSYS: Rust takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Jiro 0/-------/---<<<<|=====--\-------\0 Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 1/-----==/=======|
COMBATSYS: Magaki reflects Big Bang from Jiro with Jab Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Jiro 0/-------/---<<<<|===----\-------\0 [W] Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 1/-----==/=======|
Magaki's eyes narrow.
"Stray... Dog?"
This is unexpected.
The chi surging from the boy is overpowering. It blazes through the shroud of ash between them, bright light illuminating the clouds of dust above like crackling lightning. The boy has confessed himself to be a dog. He has embraced the fact that he is an insignificant animal, celebrates it in some way. It is in the nature of humans to revel in their own filth, Magaki thinks, but he finds himself unpersuaded by his own disdain this time. There is spirit behind this lance, a raw defiance which transcends the pettiness which plagues their species, fueled not by vengeance but by tenacity.
It is stupid, this will to live. But as the penetrating lance plunges toward him, Magaki's expression has turned serious for once, fixing on the boy. There is something unusual about him, yes, something that Magaki has missed up until now. What was the paradox he sensed that brought him here? Was it Rust? Or--
"Stray Dog."
This time, the words are spoken not in bemusement, but in address. Magaki looks through the blazing energy at the boy, his hand outstretched, Jiro's bang straining against Magaki's control. Despite the surging energies and ashen winds, the silver-haired man's words can be clearly heard.
"There is potential within you, I see," he continues, "a power not yet mastered. I will remember you, and this... bang of yours. But so too must you remember: until you learn to master your rage, until these fires blaze in tune with your will--"
With a thrust of Magaki's palm, Jiro's lance of chi quivers, spasms wildly in midair, and then inverts, pointing towards its originator.
"Your anger will be turned against you."
The lance shoots forth, faster even than before.
"And you will be consumed."
And so Jiro was faced with the prospect of banging himself.
COMBATSYS: Rust Toughs Out Magaki's Reflected Big Bang!
[ \\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////// ]
Jiro 0/-------/---<<<<|===----\-------\0 Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 1/=======/=======|
The visual intensity of Jiro's mastery over chi is nothing short of astounding. The finer nuances of what the truest, highest echelons of chi mastery entail are, unfortunately, lost upon the aging American man (even after a few particularly harrowing experiences by one Takuma Sakazaki's Haohshokokens - sometimes in triplicate).
As Howard struggles to pull himself up, he can really only be a spectator to the splendor of a man that appears far beyond the both of them, with such great power and ability as to transcend the efforts of both of them. His legs continue to protest, even as he might even be able to at last get himself to stand u--
His eyes go wide as Magaki catches Jiro's concentrated lance of power. Almost as though a sport. A trifle. Flashbacks run through his mind, from when a certain long-haired man in an interesting coat decided to pay a visit to his former place of employment.
His legs shake, quivering with what adrenaline pumps through it. They don't want to have weight pressed upon them. They were damn near shattered to the degree of permanent, debilitating, disabling injury when Howard chose to catch himself from that slam, and yet...
"That's, that's--"
Pressing off of Ol' Rusty, numb in pain as his legs are, he wills them to move again in a short dash. It's more like hurling his entire body weight. The way he stumbles forth actually works to his advantage as he comes up just behind Jiro, moving to shove him aside with a powerful outward swing of his right elbow.
The redirected bang, well, bangs. It bangs against Howard's chest, against a body honed against significant duress, the blinding explosion of it washing over himself as he thrusts Ol' Rusty down to stop himself from being blown back too far. Metal squeals against the asphalt noisily as he draws the pipe back.
"E-Enough!" He stammers out as he staggers forward with his legs starting to give out again, but not before he draws back Ol' Rusty and - through the power of his own arm - thrusts it forward.
The lunging motion comes with such strength and speed that it carries him forward, scraping a knee painfully against cracked, uneven asphalt but doing little to dull the blow as a real threat remains of single, powerful contact against Magaki's person.
Coming out on the other side of Magaki unless stopped, redirected, or whatever he may try, Howard holds Ol' Rusty outward and to the side much like a romanticized samurai film after that single blow. Should contact have been made... the impact could be heard for miles, through a cityscape that seems almost deathly silent aside from some stragglers that may be out to preach about the oncoming end.
There is a bit of a distortion around Jiro as he finishes releasing the chi. It is a faint static of the distortion. Is that the temporal effects lingering? It seems that in the midst of the natural disasters, a lot of things happened as well. In particular, that static from the temporal rift briefly ripples around Jiro before he turns around and looks over.
"..Wh-..." But then that rift seals itself completely.
That is when he is called. Jiro turns to face the person who finally acknowledges him. He squints for a moment, looking over at Magaki as he now has his full attention. There is potential? For a brief moment, Jiro looks over his white blaze.
Faintly, he can see the edges of the dark flames manifesting, lingering. This reveals itself as Magaki issues the boy a warning for /him/ to remember.
Until he learns to master his rage and until they tune with his will...
~ ...Does he know...? ~
It has been a couple of months since Jiro was banished from Kain's training. The man who he looked up to as a father-figure. He is left with an incomplete understanding of his power.
...If only he was willing to kill Alma when he was asked to do so. However, Jiro knows he could never do that.
By the time he snaps back into reality, Jiro's eyes widen as the flames spasm and invert back towards him. "Shit...!" Both arms raise in the air to guard himself. However... Jiro is taken by surprised when Rust finally takes the young man by the shoulder and he is shoved to the side. Had the guy been behind him the whole time?
"HEY! RUST!" Jiro cries out... However, Rust proves himself to be a great hero. Jiro looks down towards his hands. Is he this weak? These powerful people. Weak.. His teeth grits before he snaps out.
"HAAAARRGGHHH!!!"
Jiro lunges forward, bringing his foot out to strike against Magaki for an upward kick. Then, he lunges upward to bring his hands downward to slam down at the man's head. "REBEL SPIKE!" From his hands is a trail of flames thatlances down towards him.
COMBATSYS: Rust successfully hits Magaki with Condemned.
[ \\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Jiro 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 [W] Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 0/-------/----===|
COMBATSYS: Jiro successfully hits Magaki with Rebel Spike.
[ \\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Jiro 0/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 [W] Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 0/-------/----===|
Magaki has surely finished Jiro, now. The rest shall fall into place. Regardless, now that he has mastered his anger and remembered himself, he is altogether pleased with how this has gone. Both of these men, while fundamentally worms, are suitable for his goals.
He has already won.
Lost in thought, sensing only the impact of his chi striking an adversary, Magaki turns to where Rust once stood, preparing to face his next opponent--
"Hm?"
It is a mistake he will not soon forget. Within the space of a breath he realizes where Rust must have moved and turns, but within the space of a breath Rust is already there before-- no--
"Gaaaaaaahhhh!"
--behind him. Rust is behind him now, pipe outstretched, as the pavement beneath Magaki feet splinters in all direction, the tanned man's unnatural body absorbing the momentous impact of that single building-shattering blow, some strange pink ectoplasm flying from Magaki's lips and splattering on the ground, vivid amongst the ashes. Body quivering and undulating like a mass of Jello, no longer even presenting the pretense of human composition, Magaki's wide eyes swivel toward Rust, already preparing a savage counterattack. But a flash of movement in the corner of his eye sends the silver-haired tournament host's thoughts screeching to a halt. Because of Rust was already over there, then the attack must have hit-- and that must mean--
"Unnghh!"
Having already absorbed Rust's devastating blow, Jiro's well-timed kick lifts Magaki off the ground, and the following hammerblow sends the tall man crashing into one of the cracks made when Rust's impact struck. Magaki slides back, his body digging up dirt and grit as he goes, the ashes parting behind him. This time, Rust and Jiro's spontaneous coordination worked perfectly.
"I have..."
Slowly, Magaki digs himself from the crevasse.
"...taken you lightly."
He rises to his feet, his suit in tatters now, but his eyes are clear, and a very thin smile hovers upon his lips. His arms are loose at his sides.
"I declare you both qualified to participate in the Gaia Tournament. The people of this world have need of you. Should you desire to help them, or to face me at my full strength and demonstrate your power once and for all, you will find me at the end of that road."
That smile broadens, and even after all that, even though he limps a bit as he turns away, it displays a cruel superiority.
"At the place which time has forgotten."
And so Magaki begins to walk away, staggering somewhat but standing tall nevertheeless, turning his back on his adversaries. Within moments, he will vanish into the swirling ashes, but for now, his back is exposed, should anyone dare to pursue him.
COMBATSYS: Magaki takes no action.
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Jiro 0/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 [W] Magaki
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 0/-------/----===|
Those eyes light up once more, the feral features manifest. He sees that strange, pink ectoplasm that flies from Magaki's lips and it splatters on the ground within the ashes. The body quivering, Jiro's lips curl to a snarl and he continues his charge to unleash his attack while Rust has Magaki distracted.
After Magaki slides across the ground, Jiro lands on the ground and he takes his aggressive stance. He grits his teeth, looking over at Magaki. With his senses heightening, the ashes and the smouldering hot air is starting to affect his lungs. "Nggh..." He looks up towards the man as he rises to his feet.
Jiro narrows his eyes, still wary of his nature. He has seen too many features that the man possesses. It is definitely not like Dhalsim, "...Hmm..." He looks thoughtful, his eyes narrow.
"Gaia.. tournament..?"
As the man vanishes within those ashes, Jiro decides against attacking him. Instead, he collapses on a knee and he coughs, "Nggh... bigger fish to fry. You said that we need to hurry to the Youth Center, right?" He calls out towards Rust, staggering himself to his feet to get to the truck, "Let's go. We still got the kids to help."
Howard doesn't turn back to look to the inhuman display, the glimpse of Magaki's true person. His back remains turned, Ol' Rusty outstretched for more than a few critical seconds. Critical seconds that could have been used to be struck from behind, as Magaki makes his concessions.
Both qualified for the Gaia Tournament. The people of this world have need of them. Vague instructions are given as to how they are to follow this invitation laid bare before them...
As he hears Magaki walk away, he gives Ol' Rusty a little bit of a flourish (in reality, working out a kink in one of his shoulders and nearly accidentally dropping it, with the unintended but welcome side effect of looking sort of cool). His eyes close as he's stung by hot ash, wheezing quietly as the pipe is placed back through the torn toolbelt pocket it calls home.
For the trouble he sometimes has in coming to grips with a situation that just unfolds around him, he seems to have at least a much better understanding of when it's over... more or less. He still remains kneeling, as Jiro gives the acknowledgement about what they were on their way to do.
"Stray... Dog," he murmurs to himself. He knows he's heard of it - that was a famous name years ago. Is someone reusing it? Stray Dog of... Southtown. A fan? Who knows. First... he ought to get to the center, get in touch with that Towazu fellow about the whole mess once he gets there.
...Right, getting there. He starts to stand up, but falls to a knee as one of his legs give out underneath him. He can hear Jiro walking away hurriedly to the truck (and who can blame him, this air is absolutely unsuitable for breathing).
"H-Hey... wait, wait," he calls out as he holds out an arm, "c'mere. Hey... shit." He gags, coughs, and sputters. "I, I need help getting up, I kinda... he kinda did a number to my legs--"
Depending on how he feels once he's able to get inside, out of the disgusting soot-filled air and let the adrenaline and such fade, there is a real (and kind of terrifying) chance that Jiro might have to be the one to drive the rest of the way when he probably doesn't have the necessary driver's license to operate that kind of vehicle... and it's kind of tough to get any sort of cellphone signal out with all the panic, and the electrically-charged ash in the atmosphere, and...
A lot of panic over the rest of the short trip to the YFCC, which is to say, aside from the extraordinary circumstances involving the two... almost business as usual, as it regards one Howard Rust.
...Or so he would think.
COMBATSYS: Jiro has left the fight here.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Rust 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Magaki
COMBATSYS: Magaki has left the fight here.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rust 0/-------/----===|
COMBATSYS: Rust has ended the fight here.
Log created on 18:49:53 08/17/2014 by Rust, and last modified on 01:57:15 08/18/2014.