SNF 2015.01 - SNF: Motocrossed

Description: With these two fighting prodigies, what fight fan could go wrong? Tonight's battle is set in the rough and rowdy Motocross Rally in southern California. Rather than fighting in the bleachers or the skybox or someplace boring, Adelheid and Rock are right in the thick of it, right in the middle of one of the championship races! (Winner: Rock)





Please drink responsibly.

And so the fight night has come, the crowd roars and dirt bike engines snarl with every twist of a throttle, the riders held back by short, fold up gates at they wait at the starting line of their muddy, hilly, dirt track. 'Classic' Rock smashes into eardrums and the bloated display of media consumption displays the events name overhead on a jumbo-tron, it rotates and is wreathed in flames.


the announcer booms over the din of the crowd, roaring into his own microphone just to hear himself over the clamourous cacophony of the proceedings.

On cue, a four-wheeled ATV rushes out of a tunnel at one end of the arena, attached to it and trailing behind is a sort of charriot. A young man stands upon it, a tall, lean, blonde man. With one hand gripping a steadying par, he is carried towards and onto the track. The ATV passes beneath a hill, disappearing into the tunnel below it for just a momentbefore reappearing on the other side a moment later.


A collective scream of desire and adoration rips through the air. If Adelheid is affected or cares for it at all, he does not show it. He simply steps from the charriot and proceeds to the small field in the track's interior, hemmed in by bales of hay. His driver spouts something, encouragement or well wishes. With a wave, Adel dismisses the man, he has served his purpose, that will be all.

He stops, halting smoothly in his designated place and takes a moment to allow those crimson eyes to sweep across the crowd and then upwards towards the boxes. Whatever he was looking for, he finds it there. A petite, blonde figure could just be made out in the distance. His features soften into a momentary smile and a nod of acknowledgement before he turns his attention back to the matter at hand.

Dude, Adelheid, stop gawking at your sister, that's gross.

So gross.

The motocross race hasn't even started, but in the distance, there's signs of dust being kicked up high into the air; the closer it gets, the more obvious that it's the tell-tale trail of dirt signifying that a dirtbike has been unleashed from its pen.

"WHAT THE!" The announcer shouts into the microphone, deafening his audience. Heads turn, eyes widen.

The rider wears a helmet of plain black and a red-white racing jacket, leather-clad legs nestled snug against the sides of the frame as a fingerless glove throttles the engine. It careens down the track, gathering steam, a powerful thrum coursing through him. As wheels spin out, the bike and rider meet the bales of hay encircling the arena in a muted crash, pitching the one steering the 'vehicle' high into an uncontrolled arc made of flailing limbs and loss of protective head-gear. Blonde hair flutters around attractive features. Once the apex has been reached, Rock twists over to descend with a face-seeking fist-missle designated for his opponent, wasting no time on introductions or even waiting for the starting shot.


"Adelheid?" The fair-haired heartthrob glanced over the fight-card and lifted one eyebrow, "Isn't that a... girl's name?"

His chipper assistant, a yound man around twenty years or so, barked a laugh, "Dunno, dude! This one's a guy."

Lips pursing, the gears in his head turning, Rock spent at least a minute in thought before he dared to allow a smile to break across his handsome features, "All right."

"Chariot?" offered the assistant, gesturing towards the back of the tent for the blonde's benefit.

Crimson eyes flickered in the general direction, but the Howard scion's head shock. He even raised his hands in refusal. "Nah, just give me the bike, I'll do fine."


A wing of amethyst chi explodes from his back, spreading to reveal all primary and secondary flights. The energy wreathes his arm as he plummits in Adelheid's direction, a shout of "DUNK!" escaping from his lips as Rock attempts to knock the other son of an equally bad or worse organization's head off.

Doubtful that will occur, but hey.

"ROCK HOWARD?!" He is introduced with confusion, but the Taiyo teen sets the pace of the fight with his sudden and unexpected arrival. In the distance, the ringing sound of gunfire, the rev of other engines overpowers the lame dirtbike collapsed on its side nearby and still running. Looks like the motocross race has begun, as well!

Will they be crushed? Will this battle explode? Stay tuned!

COMBATSYS: Rock has started a fight here.

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Rock             0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Adelheid has joined the fight here.

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Adelheid         0/-------/-------|====---\-------\0             Rock

COMBATSYS: Rock successfully hits Adelheid with Rage Run Dunk.

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Adelheid         0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0             Rock

Pyrotechnics, fire is a must have at ever single red neck automotive event, intended or not. Towers of flame geyser up from emplacements, scorching pillars of light and heat that rip a cheer from the crowd and provide Rock with a even more impressive backdrop to drop down from and just jack Adelheid right across the mother fucking jaw! The Prince of War had rocked back on his heels and attempted to lift his arms against the pugilistic artillary only to have Rock's attack pierce through his guard, the fist colliding soundly agains't Adel's jaw. His head snaps away at the end of his neck, taut muscles and tendons stretching beneath the strain as the elder of the Bernstein siblings rocks with the blow rather than just crumbling against it. His feet twist in the dirt and he sags for just a moment, the back of his wrist lifting to his aching jaw. He fixes rock with a measured glare, "Without even a introduction... Very well." he utters as he levers his long frame up, "Our opening act was a machine that ripped cars asunder, let us not disappoint, Rock Howard!" quips Adelheid as he tries to close what little distance was left from that reckless blow, his hand launching out towards Rock's collar, long, lithe fingers trying to catch hold and anchor there just long enough to yank the other boy forward and into the short, jabbing path of a fist that fired off from just above Adel's hip. It's a quick, sharp strike that would have Adel just tossing the errant Howard to the dirt.

COMBATSYS: Rock instinctively blocks Adelheid's Scorpion Blow.

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Adelheid         0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0             Rock

This is a fight, what's the point in wasting time introducing one another when the speakers boom out their names to the crowd? Rock and Adelheid would just be parroting the announcer who is paid for his work. That's rude!

His fist cracks against the other teen's jaw, Adelheid's head snapping back. The Howard scion's eyes widen a fraction, perhaps recognition dawning upon him. Maybe his gaze pierces deeper than that, he might see into the depths of Adelheid Bernstein's soul, their similarities revealed... Or Rock is just shocked that he totally socked a good-looking guy right in the mush.

Purple chi dies away, exploding into wisps and motes that float down around him. The energy runs its course as it infuses the strike, surging into the other blonde. Rock falls away, his boots touching down lightly. He adopts a stance with arms raised, lightly bouncing. His heart pumps adrenaline through his veins. "Wouldn't dream of it!" he replies, his grin faintly reminiscent of the cocky ones adopted by men far more assured of their prowess.

But Rock truly doesn't intend to disappoint his audience, or Adelheid.

Fingers close against the collar of the motorcycle jacket, but he lashes an arm upward, throwing off the throw itself and leaping a short distance back. His heels touch the edge of the arena, graze the bales of hay before he blitzes into action again. A spark strikes on the dirt, setting it ablaze as he skims the earth and leads with his elbow, guiding it into another hit that will impact hard against the other heir's sternum.

Provided that he's successful, his hand will follow, a collection of the cursed energy gathered into the palm and it will blast away Adelheid with a shower of sparks. Again, the wing erupts. Crude and less refined from the first creation, unable to last as long as its predecessor. "HYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Bikes participating in the motocross draw close, the initial volley lauching over the bales of hay and soaring like birds. The blonde teen fighter from Southtown ducks his head, to avoid the lowest of the dirtbikes. "Watch out!" he says, because wouldn't this just be a terrible way to end things, what seems like a strong fighter taken out long before the throwing down can truly begin in earnest?

COMBATSYS: Adelheid dodges Rock's Hard Edge.

[      \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Adelheid         0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0             Rock

Are they similar? Superficially, maybe. Beyond that, who can tell?

"Good." replies Adelheid curtly even as his prey just manages to slip away from his clutches. His hand and arm ar szent upwards, Rock retreats. Adel could already tell that whatever defense his foe had to offer came in a verry offensive package. He did not worry about pursuit, the Rock would come to Muhammed... So to speak.

And so Rock came on, a rush of that pale, violet energy eeking from him, "Quite the flashy one, arn't you..." mused Adelheid as he simply.. gave Rock the right of way. His weight shifted to his left foot and when Rock's thrusting elbow came elbowing forward, he let it elbow past, "If a bit straight forward..." he mused a moment later, taking Rock's measure with every passing moment.

The cry of warning was heeded, the long blonde stooped and bounded back beyond their encirclement, it was never really meant to contain them, after all. So with the bikes rushing by like a swarm of angry hornets strapped to buzzsaws, Adelheid did his best to hold Rock's attention.

A foot trailed back, scraping across the packed earth of the track, with a heart beat, Adel mustered his soul and brought it to a keen edge, wreathing his leg with a silvery light that was unleashed the moment his leg swept forward and up in a high-arcing kick.

The light sprang from his lower leg and swept through the earth like a shark's fin through the waves, a furrow bloughed in it's wake even as it met and blasted a bale of hey into a cloud of loose straws on it's way to rock.

COMBATSYS: Rock counters Grosse Stob from Adelheid with Joudan Crack Counter EX.

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Adelheid         0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0             Rock

Well, he's not a very defensive player. Adelheid sums him up correctly.

He whisks away past his opponent, hell-bent on slamming his elbow into nothing. The other blonde steps to the side. Thankfully, years of harsh training in the art of Kobojutsu, of Hakkyoukuseiken, has taught Rock not to hopeless drive forward until he crashes. He corrects himself with a sharp pivot, whirling on the balls of his feet and launching back into the fray...

Only to be stalled by a dirtbike as it cuts dangerously close in front of his face.

Rock reels, arms windmilling briefly to regain his balance as he had committed himself wholeheartedly to the motion. Thin brows knit together, creasing features attractive enough, but hardly able to hold a candle to Adelheid's ethereal qualities. "It's not intentional." The Southtown native says regarding the flash of his chi, which manifests as it does in the form of angellic wings. No doubt his fan club is squealing at their television sets back home about the Angel of Taiyo High.

Adrenaline and his burning blood demand more battle to quench their thirst. The roar of the bike that had interfered is long gone, a pause between volleys allowing him to charge as he once intended. Adel's leg was drawn back before lashing forward like a whip; the distance between them has already been lost. Rock swings around in a roundhouse that brings foot against foot, leaping to do so. A harmless sweep of chi passes by underneath him.

Although he's the brooding type, Rock still grins. For a heartbeat, he remains suspended as if from strings in the air.

A second later, there is a another fluid adaption to the ebb and flow of the fight. Howard's ankle twists against Bernstein's, the young scion balancing his weight upon it briefly as he brings his other leg around, boot colliding heavily with Adelheid's crown. It's not enough to knock him into the dirt, but splitting headaches may occur.

The rotation of his hips continue until he lands in a crouch, hand braced at the dirt, crimson eyes overbright and taking in his fellow heir. Similarities, however superficial, are noted again. Hair, eyes. If he knew that this is the good son whereas Rock is the bad, he might exhale a soft snort at the irony. "Gonna need to step up your game there, Adelheid."

There is another roar as the next volley of racers approach the arena, but are not so lucky as to clear the bales of hay in full. One crashes into the barrier, cutting a line straight towards the blonde American teen, who scrambles to get the hell out of dodge. THIS IS VERY DANGEROUS WHY WOULD THEY WANT ANYONE IN THE MIDDLE OF A MOTOCROSS!

Geese Howard is probably trying to kill him. Fucking douchenozzle.

Another lump to be nursed, Rock's heel bouncing off of Adelheid's temple and setting stars to dance in the floundering fighter's eyes. A hand snaps up to rest against his assaulted skull even as the world swam and the impact rang painfully in his sinuses. He wavered, weaving back just as a motorbike buzzed by, a second followed it. He was in the middle of the track, they veered and weaved past him. A rush of color and noise. Distracting.


It was all very distracting.

He had been trained for this, painfully, arduously, relentlessly trained for this. In chaos, find center, bring it to heel.

Adelheid tossed his head and sent hair flailing, stray strands daring to dangle before crimson eyes as he drew himself back to his core. "As you wish..." he replied as he stilled himself, honing himself like a beam of light.

His gaze bored into the Would-Be Bogard. The world around him faded, the noise dulled to a distant roar. His hands lifted, his posture settled into that odd stoop.

COMBATSYS: Adelheid calculates his next move.

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Adelheid         0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0             Rock

Without a rider to control it, the man spilling off to the side and through the hay, the bike peels a short distance on its own before collapsing with a cacophonous clatter. The arena transforms into two uneven crescents, Adelheid occupying the larger half while Rock appears as a cornered young wolf in the other.

But he isn't cornered, not by a long shot.

Clapping his driving gloves together to clear away the dirt and straightening, the opportunity to halt the Rock's pressing advance is not seized. It appears to the teen as though the other fighter enters a trance-like state, or one of extreme focus. His mind honed by years of training and the few fights that have been engaged in, the Howard scion considers hesitating to gather himself in turn.

Doing so could cost him momentum, the edge he has managed to eke out against someone who is far more skilled, or at least disciplined.

Adelheid... concedes to his demands, not that they were demands. More a suggestion to pick up his game. 'As you wish' is a decidedly strange thing to say. Confusion flickers across his face. Before he settles in like a root, Rock lunges into the pretty teen's personal space, attempting to disrupt the centre his opponent seeks to find and maintain his lead. He cocks his fist back parallel with the side of his head as feet carry him to a sliding stop.

Hopefully the time it takes for Rock to draw close isn't ample enough for Adelheid to secure his escape. "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" The Southtown-native, heartthrob of Taiyo High, leads with his knuckles in from the front, no, the side. The angle of the approach is unsupported by the rest of his arm, signifying a brutal haymaker that could probably tip Bernstein into cartwheels, if it connects.

If it knocks him out, maybe he can make friends with the rider in the hay, moaning softly and coming to, probably wondering about the medics. The bikes are on their horizon, as they race their way around the track of the motocross, taking jumps at ridiculous speeds, mufflers doing very little to conceal the noise of at least four bikes revving, neck-in-neck for the second lap.

COMBATSYS: Adelheid fails to interrupt Aggressive Strike from Rock with Genocide Cutter EX.

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Adelheid         0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0             Rock

He spoke too soon, he spoke far too soon. Maybe in the next exchange, it will have been brought. Possibly even the one after that or the one that will follow that one. Maybe he will manage to bring something after he finishes picking his teeth out of the dirt. Whichever it is, his game was not stepped up at this point. It was not stepped up at all.

It was stepped on.

Adel stooped as Rock rushed onwards, a leg pushed back in the dirt as he readied himself to meet the broadcasted haymaker. His weight shifted to the leading foot and he pushed off, about to try something that just mike make a diference...

But he got punched in the g'damned head.

Rock's fist swept in and caught him across the cheek, a nice, resounding crack of knuckles against cheek bone and the eldest of the Bernstein twins was sent away, almost pirouetting on a planted foot, the transfered momentum of the impact causing him to twist around on the planted ball of his foot.

The world was a bliurr, his head resounded with the echos of the strike that bounced around in his skull. Adelheid was vaguelyt aware that he was in the dirt, earth shifting around his hands as he balled and loosed his fists, dragging himself back to his senses by boot straps alone.

The chainsaw-like snarl of the dirt bikes alerted him of their approach. Wallowing in the hard-packed track was a embaressment enough, he would not allow himself to be run down by these idiotic contrivances. So he rolled, ignoring the throbbing skuill, he tucked his arms in and barreled himself onto the edge of the track where he could haul himself to his feet without fear of being used as a speed bump.

Rock, striking the other heir hard enough to send him away to eat dirt like a waif rejected from an orphanage, shakes out his fist, tension leaving fingertips. His knuckles do ache, but only slightly -- beating cheeks is rough and risky business, because hitting the cheekbone directly could always result in a broken finger.

Am I right or do I just not understand fight-physics at all?


The only son of Geese Howard hoists his arms, a shake causing the sleeves of his motorcycle jacket to pool into the crooks at either side. Deft and slender digits quickly tighten his riding gloves, soft leather creaking in gentle protest with each flex to ensure circulation is maintained. Rock's expression is grim with determination, but his pupils also narrow in swift scrunity...

In the world of professional fighting, there has to be times when an opponent is far more than they seem, beneath his calibre. Rock expresses no such thing, but he can sympathize. Even he has felt like less of a match against the individual he had been faced with, like back in the Inter-Schools Tournament.

Assuming that Adelheid maybe has the discipline, but not necessarily ability, the Howard scion drops stance entirely. He sends fingers back through his silken strands of a sunshine yellow. Were his hair any paler, along with his skin, they could be brothers.

Bikes smash through yet more of the barrier that was created to 'protect' them. By protect, I mean dissuade riders from violently passing through and attempting to introduce a new dish to the Roadkill Cafe: People. Caught in the midst he's forced to dodge and stumble. The arena decreases in size, not really looking like much of anything at all anymore once the motocross racers have passed through. He... wants to offer something like a chance to refuse the continuation of the match, or maybe provoke Adelheid, but being torn means Rock remains silent, watching the other from across the way, expression unreadable.

However, his lacklustre posture and lowered arms project enough of the message, 'Just give up.' It's not arrogance that causes him to think this, not as Rock starts to fall under the impression that he overestimated his opponent... He just doesn't like punching people who aren't equally good at punching him. Might as well hand over the win and the money.

COMBATSYS: Rock takes no action.

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Adelheid         0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0             Rock

It's humiliating. Absolutely humiliating. Even his father used to show him a bit more regard after he had thrashed the boy into the deck plating... Then again, had heever put on a showing like this to his father during their training, the Bernstein patriarch might consider just starting over on the whole heir front.

Now, to see Rock justg blatently wait for him to throw in the towel? It made Adel's cold blood run hot. His jaw tightend, his eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared with a vented breath as he swept dirt from a shoulder and a fore arm. He resolved himself once more, fists balled at his sides before he lunged forward with a mustering bark.

Long legs bounded towards Rock and sent Adelheid sailing upwardss at the terminal point in his approach, a smart leap that allowerd him to twist his body around and send of of those long legs whipping out in a swift, punishing arc. His heel hurtling down towards Rock's brow when the leg came down from it's overhead crescent.

COMBATSYS: Rock blocks Adelheid's Medium Kick.

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Adelheid         0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0             Rock

It's not like he means for his body language to denounce Adelheid and all of his training, but it happens... And it aggravates the other blonde. Makes sense, Rock would find himself similarly annoyed, had their positions been entirely reversed. There's nothing more frustrating than throwing yourself against a wall insurmountable.

Crimson eyes continue to observe, lips working themselves into a frown as the war continues to rage on inside of him -- still uncertain of what to do in order to proceed, Rock maintains the pretense of doing nothing at all. Adelheid might forfeit out of frustration, at this point.

He doesn't.

When the other heir expresses a hint of emotion, so slight and miniscule, quick to pass and go without notice, the Howard scion proves to be very astute to such subtle changes. He can read Adelheid's displeasure with his performance, which means the Taiyo High heartthrob isn't just kicking the crap out of someone who can't possibly fight back. "Bad luck?" Rock offers to show that he gets it, even that he might be sympathetic to the plight, but is unwilling to go easy on his opponent. He'll fight as hard as he did before.

Arms draw to the ready, fingers kept loose to form fists or reverse a grapple at a moment's notice, whatever the situation requires. Stragglers in the race weave around the outer rim of what was once their ring, now just piles of hay and a downed rider. When Adelheid charges, snapping his leg around in an arc as he reaches the apex of his leap, his heel crashes down against the American teen's forearm, raised in a block and managing to fend off the taller young man in the process.

He could... throw Adelheid off, or just throw Adelheid. At this point, either is an effective strategy.

Rock chooses to throw his opponent, allowing his guard to break. His left hand goes straight for the ankle, his right reaches high for a wrist or arm. The only son of Geese Howard intends to redirect the taller teen, adjust his position to bring him crashing down on shoulders and the back of his neck. It's going to hurt, I promise you that.

Better avoid being caught!

All the while, his face remains as grim and broody as ever, but at least Rock isn't alerting Adel to his intentions, trying to flatten him with a simple grunt of strain and effort.

COMBATSYS: Adelheid blocks Rock's Kokuusen.

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Adelheid         0/-------/-======|=======\-------\0             Rock

Rock doesn't get his teeth-jarring slam, not quite. Adelheid is all but anchored, leg caught and with Rock's hand having snaked out to ensnared his wrist. The world whirls around him as the earth sweeps around and then hurtling down at him from where the sky was just a moment ago. His free hand is thrust towards the earth, fingers splayed wide as his palm slaps against the churned earth at Rock's feet, the lean muscles of his arm pulling taut as they absorb the impact as best they can, the arm crooking to better distribute the sudden burden he has put upon it. It all happened in the blink of an eye. One moment Adelheid was hurtling towards the ground, the next he is performing a one-handed stand. His father can accept the credit and blame for this. Quick reflexes, a sharp mind. It's what kept him alive.

With a whip of his leg, Adelheid manages just enough momentum to free himself and do a half flip, body dipping as the leg snapped through the air and his arm pushed off. He had weathered it well, the sting in his wrist and the ache in his shoulder would ease sooner than his bruised pride.

He pressed the attack as quickly as possibly, trying to capitalize on whatever window his acrobatics had bought him, lunging towards Rock.

The heel of his boot was thrust like a spear at the other heir's chest, a good thump that would try and daze Rock just long enough for the leg to lift up and work around in a sharp jab at the side of Rock's head with the tip of Adelheid's boot. While those bells rung, the foot would arc higher, leg sweeping, toe pointing to the Bloato-tron overhead before his heel came snapping down once more, reaching it's apex with a high arc before it came rocketing down like a falling comet!

COMBATSYS: Adelheid successfully hits Rock with B's Destruction.
- Power hit! -

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Adelheid         1/------=/=======|=======\==-----\1             Rock

Perhaps Adelheid may find comfort in knowing that while his performance has left much to be desired throughout the majority of their fight, he still manages to avoid having his neck snapped.

Not that Rock had intended, in any way, to do grievous, irreversible harm to his fellow heir.

He's not a jerk like that.

Planting a hand to the dust and dirt, Rock is more than a little bit stunned that the reflexes of his opponent are so keenly honed. He has a grip on arm and leg, which the Howard scion releases, bolting back at least two steps and raising his fists. The young wolf coils in his stance, his knees slightly bent, expecting retaliation.

But when it comes, Rock can't decide exactly what he needs to do to handle it. Capitalize Adelheid does; he seems to have located his rhythm that had been disrupted earlier on. His booted foot crashes directly into the teen heartthrob's sternum, forcing the wind from his lungs, air passing his lips in a splutter. He wheezes as he tries to remedy the problem, vision set to spinning as his head aches from the lack of oxygen. It grows far worse when the rounded toe collides against his temple.

The American reels, already his body has begun a slow descent that will have him landing on his side... Except there'll be none of that. A heel cracks down atop his shoulder, which gives. The hit floors Rock, who smacks into his knees, the leather pants sporting rips and tears as stones dig in beneath him.

It's a good thing that the bikes are on the far side of the track, far enough away that he can take a moment to shake his head and clear his vision, three Adelheids joining together into one. Rock brushes away his dusty blonde fringe; crimson eyes seem to smolder in their sockets as though they had been set aflame. This isn't anger, but yet another display of determination. Gritting his teeth, the smaller teen rotates his body to balance with palms to the ground, an elbow dug into the hard wall of his abdominal muscles. He starts with a thrust kick to the shin, hopefully just as the Bernstein scion comes to earth, before dropping a leg.

Twisting his hips and his balance shifting with it, Rock sends his foot lashing upward, cutting a crescent through the air that if Adelheid falls forward, he's going to wind up kicked directly under his chin. The strain of the motion can be seen on the boy's face, almost growling through the spaces of pearly whites. He's in no way as acrobatic or flexible - the movement is lacking in grace and finesse - but Howard makes up for it with all the force and gusto that can be managed! Hope you enjoy drinking your dinner through a straw?!

COMBATSYS: Rock successfully hits Adelheid with Medium Kick.

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Adelheid         1/---====/=======|=======\===----\1             Rock

Adelheid wishes he could be satisfied with the sudden shift of momentum but his pride will not allow him to forget the unanswered blows and strikes that have come without reprisal. He is not done, hw will not be done, he cannot allow it. He wishes he could heap it upon Rock's plate, the blame for this, but Rock had said it himself. Perhaps this was just poor luck. A excuse that will not be tolerated, he lacked foresight in some manner. He will learn where it was, he will over-come this short falling.

But first, he was going to try and not have his shin snapped in half.

His leg was left hanging for just a moment too long, crooked at the knee from the arcing kick. He could not bring it down before Rock shot the other out from beneath him, the ground rushed up. Eating dirt would be indignity enough. Having to have it puree'd before him would be nearly unbearable.

The shoo streaks towards him. He grits his teeth and shuts his eyes. Stars burst against the back of his eyelids when chin and foot meet, his head sent snapping back at the end of his neck, sweat flies, hair is sent flailing. A grunt of pain is issued in a stiff-jawed effort to make sound. It is a wonderful sort of pain. It makes the world kilter and waver. Thankfully, he is laying nearly face down, it had almost ben enough to send him snapping back the other way, as in the dirt and belly up, but not quite.

Pain and anger are born anew. They roil and churn inside of him as he lurches to his knees, fingers raking through the dirt as they coil into fists and lever him upwards. It radiates from him, a light, a vicious crimson that comes off of him like steam. With a growl, the light flares and Adelheid lunges, propelling himself forward from the balls of his feet, he rockets towards Rock. Not to colide but rather to sweep him up in the Bernstein's wake, a hand trailing back behind him to latch at the boy's collar, at his throat, and drag him along on a one way trip directly into the side of a manmade hill that is one of the courses jumps!

COMBATSYS: Rock just-defends Adelheid's Gigantic Pressure!

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Adelheid         0/-------/---====|=======\===----\1             Rock

How would he be to blame? From what the Howard scion can tell, learning about his opponent throughout the course of their bout, their strength is roughly equal. They have both been through rigorous training from a young age... But while Adelheid leans towards discipline and pride, Rock is ruled by his unpredictability, and quickly adjusting his reaction to each situation, not allowing such things like arrogance to interfere overmuch.

He is superior to Adelheid in his will to grow stronger, not because he already knows he is strong. Rock also doesn't wallow in his failures; not until the fight is over does he consider where exactly he went wrong. If a punch isn't successful, he'll find another way to strike. If his guard isn't up to snuff, he'll have another opportunity. The other heir allows a poor performance to hold so much sway that it affects him in the present, and that's why there's a muted clunk as the snap-kick hits home.

Bet it hurts, being both brutal and inelegant. There's no mitigating it as he strikes true.

At least, Adelheid isn't reversed mid-fall, laying supine at the American teen's feet. Rock kips up, wary and watchful. He's not going to attack the other blonde because there is some sense of honour instilled in the boy, though in his blood is a boiling rage that demands he finish this and crush the attractive young man under heel while he has the chance. Again he sends fingers through his bangs, tousling them and dislodging dirt. There's a collective sigh from a number of women in the stands, who are not here for the motocross but to stare at two beautiful men plummeling the crap out of each other.

Rock grimaces. He feels annoyed, and Adelheid LOOKS angry, just... Not at them. There's a distinct flicker in the teen's eyes even though his expression doesn't change, meant for Howard and Howard alone. The crimson that wafts off the taller of the two as he rises reminds the heartthrob of Taiyo High of a kettle that has been left on the stove for too long. His head cants to the side like a curious pup, and he is caught in a lunge.

Caught, but not surprised.

He is grabbed by the collar of his jacket, by the back, and pulled along on the worst kind of ride. Rock angles his upper torso away, while is lower half turns sideways as though performing a quick hockey stop that takes a long time to, well, stop. By the time that Adelheid reaches the manmade hill to throw him against it, so much of the momentum has been lost that Rock has barely grazed the dirt with his backside before he surges at Adel. Overhead, bikes soar through the air, raining down dirt upon both of their heads. This is STUPIDLY DANGEROUS, but he's not going to abandon the older teen, he'll help.

First, he's going to win.

His blood boiling over, it sings joyously as Rock launches into a violent combo of punches that spark the earth, elbow drives, a hard knee. The handsome wolf blurs into each move, after-images in red trailing behind him; the only way to tell what devastation he intends to unleash against Adelheid. When it's all over, if they all had connected, he clamps a hand over his right wrist, channeling his curse through his arm all the way to his fingertips. A bang like a gunshot, a burst of amethyst or cerulean chi, it's so very hard to tell. The explosion will send his fellow heir flying back to what was once their arena, hopefully once all the dirtbikes have driven past as they are on now the third lap. Only the last is left...

COMBATSYS: Adelheid attempts to counter Deadly Rave Neo from Rock with Dark Barrier.

[                        \\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////          ]
Adelheid         0/-------/=======|-------\-------\0             Rock

COMBATSYS: Adelheid successfully hits Rock with Dark Barrier.

[                        \\\\\\  < >  /////////////////             ]
Adelheid         1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0             Rock

It's not over, it's not over, it's not over!

While Rock had robbed the God Preassure of most, if not all of it's bite, it had still left him with his back against the wall and with Adelheid poised to inflict that much more punishment. Of course, Adelheid is well aware that even a cornered rat will turn and strike if pressed. This means he expects nothing less from the young wolf with his back to the hill.

On comes the first strike, Adelheid's hands fly forward, open, palms out stretched and gleaming with tghe silvery gleam from before. A roiling , churning barrier of ki erupts between them, it is the best he can muster on such short notice. The spark that rushes onwards crashes into it, forces struggling against one another and then canceling the other out in a blast of air preassure that tosses Adelheid's hair and staggers him, the buffeting wins forcing him to give a step.

The assault continues and Adel answers as he had before, a single hand lifts and once more there is a wall of light to intercept Rock. Forces clash and erupt again and again, the earth is churned and tossed as one powerful strike after another is turned aside or canceled out by the sudden intrusion of Adelheid's dark barrier. His spirit bouys with every deflection, with every stone-wall defense that erupts in his enemies face. His body aches, his limbs grow heavy, but his resolve refuses to falter. Adelheid Bernstein will not be beaten so easily. He refuses.

When Rock's final stroke arrives, when the grand finale is gleaming at the tip of the young man's finger, Adelheid does not falter.

The climax erupts with it's gunshot and once more Adelheid erects his bulwark. The unleashed energies smash against his barrier and the struggle ensues, breif but hardbitten, his heels grate against the earth as the wind whips and howls. dust whirls up around their feet and is chased away by the warring forces, There is a shock, a blast of energy turned aside as with a snarl, Adelheid casts what force remains back at Rock.

He is left standing, arms hanging loosely at his sides, shoulders rising and falling with ever breath that streams from parted lips. He steadies himself, easing his hands up once more into their position. That was, if nothing else, taxing.

Rock hits each barrier with his fists, elbows and knees, committing himself out of bullheaded stubbornness to break through. The shield ripples, his knuckles tingle, but he won't give up, hammering away as though it dispenses gumdrops and rainbows. At the end, as the Howard scion releases an explosive burst of chi, his energy ricochets off the surface and slams back into him with enough force to knock the slender teen onto the mound as was originally intended.

He... really should've seen that coming, considering the shockwave cancellation that happened right off the hop.

His black tank and his fingers smoke gently, translucent grey tendrils winding their way to the sky. A wolfish grin splits his face from one side to the other. "That's more like it," Rock intones, popping the shoulder that might've been dislocated. The same shoulder Kaede had... Was it Kaede? Anyway, since the first time, it's always going to be easier to dislocate now and harder to set on his own. He can visit the medical team later, he can still fight.

There's a dull throbbing in his head and a slight swelling at his temple where he caught the toe of Adelheid's boot, but after mussing his own blonde locks, it disappears from sight. Rock doesn't hesitate much longer than that, rolling himself off the manmade jump and back onto his feet. He's got at least a few minutes before the next roar of dirtbikes passes by overhead. The Taiyo High heartthrob understands that his fellow heir doesn't intend to be beaten so easily, so let's see if a suitable conclusion can be reached right now.

His curse roars in approval, demanding yet more violence to appease it.

"Ready?" Rock asks more as a pointless courtesy, noting how worn his opponent looks. It's amazing how Adelheid can be so calm and collected, even with all the effort it must require to remain standing. The shorter teen's arm swipes through the air, amethyst chi trailing his fingertips as a burst rips through the dirt at his feet. A rip-roaring crescent cleaves a quick path to the Bernstein scion as his voice rises above the crackling cacophony, shouting out the name of his strike, "REPPUKEN!" Why people insist on notifying others of their attacks, I will never know.

As Adelheid gives this his all, the other blonde is quickly proving that in no way is the match as uneven as it once seemed.

COMBATSYS: Rock successfully hits Adelheid with Reppuken.

[                            \\  < >  ////////////////              ]
Adelheid         1/----===/=======|=======\-------\1             Rock

All of the turmoil, the anger, it is drawn in and woven together, bound tightly and focused into a single energy. The energy to keep fighting to keep standing. This fight was more than he expected but he will not allow it to stand as it is, in his mind there is yet a chance, victory can still be taken from Rock, it can still be ripped from his clutches with enough tenacity and focus, he needs to but maintain his composure, study his foe and find the opening he needs to snatch it away and leave nothing but defeat and pain behind.

He locks eyes with Rock once more, the younger asks a question. His features color with a wry smirk, just the twitch at the corner of his lips as they tighten. His mirthful grunt might be lost in the howl of crowd and motorbikes. Rock hadn't expected a answer, Adelheid did not bother to give him much of one. It worked like that.

And so it came, a towering rush of wind. He did his best to buckle down, stooping as he brought his arms up to gaurd against the winds but it did not work, he had not the strength left to maintain his footing. He was swept up and sent flying, tumpling through the air until gravity claimed him once more. He landed gracelessly, crashing into the dirt and rolling drunkenly until momentum was done with him... but he was not yet done, he would not quite, not yet, there was still a chance!

Too tired to close the distance himself, Adelheid decided on a last ditch effort instead. His body was already sapped but there was yet more he could do, he knew it.

He rose, lurching to his feet and slouched with a haggard stoop. To either side of him, his hands lifted up and out, fingers splayed and palms open. He called to his soul, the thing that had been hammered, honed, and sharpend into a weapon all of this years, he called to it and brought it forth into his hands. It came with just a glimmer at first, a faint shimmer that coalesced into a ever brighter and brighter light growing in both palms. He snarled his efforts, sweat beading on his brow as he poured more and more of himself into it until there was nearly nothing left to give.

At this peak, he let it soar, hurling it towards Rock in a great discharge of shearing wind and light that carved a furrow into the ground as it tore across the space between.

COMBATSYS: Adelheid keeps on fighting!

[                           \\\  < >  ////////////////              ]
Adelheid         0/-------/-------|=======\-------\1             Rock

COMBATSYS: Adelheid successfully hits Rock with Crown Prince+.

[                           \\\  < >  ///////                       ]
Adelheid         0/-------/-------|=======\====---\1             Rock

Sounds awfully ruthless, did the fair-haired teen piss you off that much, Adelheid?

Judging from his expression, likely not.

The Bernstein heir tumbles ass-over-kettle, rolling to a stop and somehow still managing to stand. Rock's respect for his opponent is not begrudging, it was earned fairly through the exchange of blows. However, this seems as though whatever it is, it may be Adelheid's last.

Digging in his heels, he will be a wall, prepared for whatever may come, even a shockwave higher than he is tall!

Rock bares his teeth, throws up his arms to defend himself. His sheer tenacity allows him to weather a little, but the pressure against his guard forces it to crumble. He feels his hands against his chest, the breath he had been holding forced from him in a wordless cry as the teen heartthrob's feet leave the ground.

He smashes through the mound and leaves a sizable hole. The energy, the sheer force of Adelheid's soul, carries Rock even further than that, into oncoming traffic. Bikes swerve to avoid him, which sets them on a collison course with other racers. There are crashes and the screech of metal meeting metal, bodies flung through the air with their limbs flailing. They land with muted thuds, the audience gasps collectively.

Many are all right, more shocked than anything. One rider has a broken arm. Rock tucks in as he continues to somersault unwillingly until his feet are found beneath him, fingers raking through the dirt until finally coming to a halt. On all fours, the blonde American truly does resemble a wolf, his hackles raised, dusty and filthy and looking ready to snarl.

Bursting into a sprint, now it may be /his/ last chance to make a stand. The tables have turned! But there's even more space to separate him from Adelheid, so Rock sweeps up a dirtbike along the way, mounting it and throttling the engine so hard that the front tire rises up off the ground. It roars like a beast as it charges through the gap of the jump, and when the Howard scion throws both his weight and the bike's forward, hitting the brake in the process, he's airborne once again.

Time to finish this... EXACTLY THE WAY IT STARTED!

Soaring, his back arching, cerulean chi envelopes him like a barrier of his own, but Rock isn't so skilled as to use it as such. He knows more about reversing momentum, not energy-based attacks. None of this matters.

Landing heavily, the earth ruptures. Deep fissures appear in the dirt as knees first bend to absorb his impact but then he lowers himself further. "Raging..." Rock pulls the energy from his body and channels it through his thin form, into the cracks, light shining from them as they are forced wider. Scythes of two colours, purple and blue, meld together as they sprout like fully grown trees, thick tendrils of amethyst weaving and flickering around him in a whirlwind. "/STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORM/!"

At the yell, they are forced outward, a maelstrom hell-bent on charging wildly in all directions, a stampede gone awry. Many should be able to find their target, while the others peter out after causing a fair bit of destruction to the track. Beneath him, the ground craters inwards, Rock trying to hold his curse at bay, but this time he needs to hold his arm further up than the wrist, closer to the elbow, suggesting that perhaps he may be losing his personal battle...

No, not yet. Not this time! He won't lose control!

COMBATSYS: Rock successfully hits Adelheid with Raging Storm EX+.

[                                < >  ///////                       ]
Adelheid         0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0             Rock

This was not victory then, but he took solace in the fact that his opponent would not think lightly of the night.

The wave had left him sapped, his spirit and body were now equally tapped. His limbs felt leaden, his chest heaved. Even as bodies yet tumbled and the cycles crashed and careened, Adelheid started the long walk towards Rock. His gait was labored but he might just be able to make it over to the young wolf by the time they shut the lights off if he was lucky.

Or, better still, Rock could come to him.


Oh, god damnit. Who keeps giving him a bike?!

Adelheid chooses to stand his ground, the snarl of the cycle's engine remindxing him of the initial moments of their clash. He takes these few, remaining moment to gather himself, a breath drawn to try and steady his wary body. It helps little, less when you consider what is about to happen.

Rock falls and everybody dies.

Not really, noone dies. There was a certain level of danger, however!

The very ground rolls and bucks beneath Adelheid's feet. He attempts to remain standing, attemptrs to find a safe passage thrfough the suddenly volitile environment that the arena has become but there is little hope for it.

For every eruption he evades, anoter bursts through the ground where he had hoped to evade the first, or third. The impacts are jarring, painful. his body is volleyed back and forth in a short, harsh round of rebounding blows. When he hits the ground at last, he is slow to get up, so slow in fact that he does not get up at all. He writhes, twists, coughs his complaints as he presses his fists into the dirt and shifts his legs to try and get his knees into position he'll not be raising to his feet again, to battered, too worn, Adelheid can just barely manage to prop himself up on a elbow, much less bring himself to a standing position again.

COMBATSYS: Adelheid takes no action.

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

COMBATSYS: Adelheid can no longer fight.

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

The only way he'd be thinking lightly of this match... Is if Adelheid had simply given up when it seemed that Rock's victory was assured.

He didn't, he fought on. The pale young man may not have been able to tip the scales in his favour, but he's done well enough in bringing the Howard scion to a kneel.

See? He's right there, kneeling in the dirt.

As the blades fade from the arena, only the split earth indicates that they had ever been at all. The vortex continues to swirl around Rock; it costs him a great amount of energy to master what seems like a beast, raging inside and outside of him. His blonde fringe sticks to his forehead, a cold sweat breaking across his brow. It dissipates in time, and his arm goes numb from the pressure of his grip.

Adelheid definitely saw the worst of it, when the maelstrom erupted like a volcano. If Rock's struggle for control was difficult, his to evade was impossible. The fair head lifts, crimson eyes search for his opponent. It takes a moment, but when Howard finds the other teen, laying on the ground and unable to retaliate, he wonders if maybe he went a little too far.

Rock climbs out from the crater that he had created, his boots slipping and sliding on the dirt, almost forcing him to scramble up the slope. Concern mired with curiosity causes him to approach the fallen fighter with a hint of caution. Another thought, that this could just be a clever ruse to catch him off-guard. Adelheid is propped up on an elbow. The American takes each step like a scared animal; at the slightest movement, he's bound to take off running.

Or get the bike. The true nemesis of Adelheid Bernstein. Dohoho.

A crunch of the ground underfoot, he's close enough now to confirm that this is no joke. Not a trap, not an elaborate and devious scheme. Just the Son of War, beaten. He visibly relaxes. Tension leaves his shoulders, his solemn, almost surly expression transforms into a subtle half-smile. In a gesture of good sportsmanship, Rock's arm extends, to haul his fellow heir to his own two feet. "Sor--" he just clicks his teeth, biting off what was meant to be an apology for being overzealous. He understands the pride this person has, and that would be crushing.

"It was a good fight." Rock says, and announcements blare, images of recap on the jumbotron. The race will resume, riders completing their final lap ONCE the battling pair are gone from the track. The bikes are no longer a danger to them, they're a danger to the competitors! "We'll have to do this again." His words may be lost in the racket, but that's fine. No doubt Adelheid feels the same way.

COMBATSYS: Rock has ended the fight here.

That is it then.

Tenacious as he is and as much as he is reluctant to do so, Adelheid accepts his defeat. That it was not as one-sided as it had first appeard was a salve that offered some comfort. He had come close, his opponent was powerful. He would learn, he would grow. It was time to vacate the stage and allow the victory to bask while he collected his dignity. Such did not seem to be the case at hand however. The crunch of earth beneath a foot drew his attention to the source, Rock. The victor, while looking every bit the part (He being upright while Adelheid was there in the dirt), showed no signs of being a boastful winner. Another note of solace. He was defeated by a man with some character.

The offered hand is given just a moments regard before Adelheid's own satretches out, clasping it at the wrist while Rock could do the same to the Bernstein's own.

"Indeed." he agreed just as soon as he was brought to his feet, wavering for just a moment before he could muster himself. The hoisting hand became a shake, drawn back from the wrist to press his palm to the other's. His grip is firm, a respectful squeeze and a pump as he continues. "Though, n ot too soon, perhaps. I am not eager to pile new bruises upon old.Still, it is a score I would like to have a chance to even." he claimed. "Until that time, however-" he offered nothing more, hand slipping away from the grasp only to take hold of Rock's wrist once more and hoist it up for the adoring crowd. The riders would have their final lap but part of a victor's purse is the cheers that follow. Adelheid makes sure that Rock recieves his rightly deserved share.

Rock just stands there, his arm raised by his opponent, his face as red as a tomato.

Embarrassed forever. And secretly pleased.

Log created on 23:13:54 01/26/2015 by Rock, and last modified on 07:13:14 02/09/2015.