KOF 2019 - Finals - Heavy Metal Burning vs USA Sports Team

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Description: In the final round of this year's King of Fighters, Heavy Metal Burnin' squares off with the USA Sports Team for the title and glory. Things get hot. Stuff gets burnt. (Winner: Heavy Metal Burnin').

Howard Arena.

Home of somebody that doesn't matter anymore because the biggest name in Fighting Entertainment has decided to show his face here. There's a championship and bragging rights and a bunch of other shit on the line for this here match that is very likely so televised that even people that aren't watching this can find it.

"In A World..." Sounds like somebody's paid The Movie Trailer Guy to take over the PA System of Howard Arena. "... where Team USA is the best and there's not a damn thing any of these other teams can do about it. One man, leads his team, through the fire... through the Burnin' of Heavy Metal... towards the title of King of Fighters." This is where the explosion sound effect goes. "He is..." Dramatic Pause. Also, this is the part where lights are queued up and everything. "JOHNNY CAGE!"

Johnny Cage's music hits because JOHNNY CAGE IS NOT AFRAID TO DIIIIIIIIE! and the Master of Cinema makes his entrance on a freaking zipline to thunderous applause and pyrotechnics out the yahoo, wazoo and yoohoo! He's got his hands raised, rockin' his signature shades and dressed like he's ready to kick some bootays.

He doesn't unhook himself from the zipline until he's backflipping down to land in the fighting area with epic superhero landing motion!

"Damn." Johnny Cage smirks at himself. "That was so hot, I just made me /want/ me."

"... oh you've got to be fucking kidding me." K' doesn't enter nearly as dramatically. In fact, his whisper isn't even for the camera, a low grumble spoken as he trundles up the long stone stairs to the raised pedastel that serves as auspicious arena for this finals match. The Beast of Flame pays little attention to the nicknames and grandeur given his own entrance for team HEAVY METAL BURNIN', all his focus on the task ahead: which, logically, should and could be the hardest fight thus far in his errantry's endeavour to become KING OF FIGHTERS. Dressed in dark denim and black leather, the jacket unzipped over the youth's dark, muscular chest, the warrior called 'Dash' crests the stairs and rests his own shaded gaze upon one Johnny Cage.

The sunglasses help-- it hides the second roll of the prototype's eyes as surely as the first. It would be easy to dismiss Johnny as a fool, a faker, a movie-magic mysterio... but K' hasn't survived this long by being an idiot (arguably). They're in the finals of the King of Fighters, and however debateable the actual title may be, no one lands here without being a legit threat, and it's through that wary, intent lens that the Beast of Flame considers his opponent.

"That's perfect." K' notes to Cage drily as the announcer runs through the climax of his spiel and begins the countdown to COMBAT (KOMBAT?). The right sleeve of the bioweapon's leather jacket is shunted upwards to his elbow, pinned above the odd, armored gauntlet covering his right hand in crimson and black, its conduits already glowing hotter and hotter as Kusanagi fire leaps unbidden across his fingertips, Dash's teeth gritting hard past the initial rush of pain. "Then you're already eager to go fuck yourself!!"

The FIGHT mandate is uttered, the lights settle on the arena in illuminating glory, the audience -roars-... and K' erupts into motion. He -blasts- across the stone floor, crossing the distance to Cage like a missile, one led by a warhead formed of the clenched fist enclosed in that unusual gauntlet, a tremendous fireball lighting the strike and surging like a torch up the renegade's forearm. Johnny might already be hot, but K' takes these things oh so literally. It's nice of him. Aside from the explosive straight that carries his entire weight forward with force enough to end lesser men in a single stroke.

COMBATSYS: K' has started a fight here.

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K'               0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Johnny Cage has joined the fight here.

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K'               0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0      Johnny Cage

COMBATSYS: Johnny Cage blocks K''s Second Knuckle.

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K'               0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0      Johnny Cage

Johnny Cage is all show and all skill. He puts on a show because that's what brings more and more of his fans out of the woodwork. That's also what tends to keep most of his opponents off guard because nobody is stupid enough to be a Hollywood Diva during a serious fight?! Right?!

Johnny Cage is. And proud of it.

As his opponent blurs into motion, Johnny Cage has already scrolled through his witty comeback commentary track and found a solid enough response. By the time K' is close enough, Johnny Cage is setting his feet and preparing for impact. As the explosive impact connects with Johnny's immediate guard, there's smoke and fire and Johnny's sent sliding backwards a few feet. But as the smoke peels away from Johnny's face, there's a big grin on those movie star features as it's time for a little quip action. "Whoa there, buddy. Relax a little bit. You don't wanna' blow your load too early. What will the ladies think, huh?"

From this distance, Johnny Cage takes the opportunity to launch a pair of Green Forceballs in the direction of his opponent. Arcing each of them at a different angle to see if he can't keep K' at a bit of a distance. While he definitely doesn't want to show it, that freaking Second Knuckle stung like a mofo.

"Freeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Freebaaaaallliiiiiiiiin'!" o/~

COMBATSYS: K' overcomes Out Take from Johnny Cage with Air Trigger.

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K'               0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0      Johnny Cage

Actually... K' has found a number of people ARE in fact stupid enough to be divas during violent clash. If we're being honest, sometimes the prototype rather feels like his fuck-this-noise disdain for the trappings and expectations of fame and fandom is the oddity, rather than the rule. This just reinforces the renegade's predispostion to figure everyone -else- is goddamn nuts. What it DOESN'T do, however, is buy Cage an opening, or the dismissal of the star's skill.

The collision of light and might is precisely what K' anticipated-- if not what the bioweapon might have ideally //wanted// to happen. Johnny raises an admirable defense, and K' -hammers- that fiery gauntlet home into it unflinchingly, delivering all that force into the action star's resilient guard. At the return quip, K' just smirks knowingly, and lets out a monsyllabic chuckle. A 'heh' if you will, in onomatopoeia.

In that instant of clash, the roar of flame pouring from K Prime's grasp amplifies, intensifies, drawing a harsher clench of the bioweapon's jaw as he shoves off the strike in synergy with the sliding Cage. The forceballs whip up and in, and K' executes a remarkably graceful, singular backflip, carrying him with their trajectory for a moment before his leg whips around, righting his stance for landing and launching a wildly flaring lance of sacred flame groundwards.

First one, and then the other green blast is consumed in a brilliant crash, waves of liquid fire lurching around the interceding impacts before striking volatilely into the stoney arena, setting the space around Johnny alight in the remnant conflagration, still a torrential wave of roiling ignition. "Don't worry-- I'm just getting warmed up!!" This confident declaration may, conversely, be cause for Cage to worry. It's also oh so very punny, but drily wrathful enough it's -impossible- to be sure the firebrand meant it.

COMBATSYS: K' successfully hits Johnny Cage with Air Trigger.

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K'               0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0      Johnny Cage

The Unkillable Johnny Cage is not exactly prepared for the shenanigans that K' has wrathed upon him after his own attempt at using foolish Chi shit. He really should stick to using more useful things for a human. Like guns. Or his fists. Or something. Trying to use his inner magic shit is just often met with chagrin.

Or a reversal of misfortune!

Fire. Lots of fire. So much so that Johnny Cage has no time to try and actually dodge, even though he does dive to the side... only to land in even more of the flaming obliteration that has been sent his way. Which certainly leaves Cage in a bit of burning pain. And with the necessary need to stop, drop and roll once he comes out the other side.

Johnny Cage somehow manages to get back to his feet, his entire stylish outfit singed and burned in a myriad of places. However, most importantly, his sunglasses are still on and safe. So that's a plus. He's got to look cool even while getting his ass beat. It's in his contract.

Cage rushes K' at this point, reaching out to see if he can't grab K' quickly enough to follow up with a brutal hyper-extension of K's elbow and knee and send him packing with a Palm Strike of stylish proportions!

His return quip during all this? "That's what she said!"

COMBATSYS: K' blocks Johnny Cage's No Autographs.

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K'               0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0      Johnny Cage

That Silly Chi Stuff-- it permeates everything, the very current and essence of life. Whether exercised in physical might or myriad masses of projected energy, those fighting on this tier tend to owe a great deal to that inner connection to its rushing magnitude. It's not a lack of skill that sees Cage's green blasts bested-- or even a particular amplitude of skill on the part of K'.

No, credit has to go to the celestial furnace tapped by the prototype, to the uncanny conduit forged through the youth, the all-consuming flame barely bulwarked by the high-tech armor enclosing his right hand. It surges within, it reaches without, it would consume -him- as surely as those he fights against if he truly let it, if he cast aside the modulator allowing him -some- semblance of control.

Amber eyes burn orange and hot as they lock on Cage from behind Dash's own stylish shades, his brows knitting as he squares off sidelong against Johnny's dangerous grapple. He twists into that grab, keeping his arm twisted in a more acceptable angle, and braces the targeted leg, tensing his musculature tightly and providing a reinforced wall against that palm strike-- it still threatens to steal his breath, it still jars his ribs, but it doesn't really dislodge him. It doesn't push the prototype back more than a scant several inches.

"Good--" K' grunts out through the breath that refills his lungs, "Otherwise you're missing a //goddamn important step//!!" ... is he doing the punning on purpose? One has to wonder as the bioweapon wheels on an anchoring boot and snaps the other upwards with a sudden, violent heel aligned with the superstar's statuesque jawline.

COMBATSYS: Johnny Cage fails to counter Medium Kick from K' with Mime Time.

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K'               1/------=/=======|=======\-------\0      Johnny Cage

Johnny Cage digs deep through his catalog of films and appearances as he deals with this personage that's got the nerve to be wearing sunglasses as well. He really should've trademarked fighting in sunglasses or something. He should be getting royalty checks for this kind of stuff. He makes a mental note to talk to his lawyers about it later.

Right now, there's a dangerous as hell kick of death headed in his direction.

Even behind the sunglasses, Johnny Cage closes his eyes. Channeling the Inner Mime Within, he slides right into what could be confused as a kata demonstration... that looks more like the movements of a Mime that's trapped in a box. His breathing is relaxed. His inner dragon is calm. His focus is...

Broken by the arrival of the full brunt of K's boot all upside his jaw, taking him right out of his moment, into the air and sending him backwards to crash with a grunting pain that's punctuated the splattering and sailing of blood from his recently rocked jaw.

Sunglasses: Cool even before Johnny Cage. So timeless, the courts can't quite agree if shades were even invented before they became universally awesome. It's at least one area of common ground between the moviestar and the very different kind of multi-million-god-knows-how-much money man. The prototype squares his stance smoothly as Cage crashes clear, but in stark contrast to the practiced kata. The Beast of Flame runs on instinct, honed by programming, reinforced by conditioning, every movement graceful enough to speak of a master martial artist... but melding to no form except its most abstract. That of violence. The farthest thing from a mime, though they do often inspire it, is such brutal reflex.

"You should take your own advice, Hollywood-- the stamina thing." K' doesn't hesitate for a moment to advance on the addled actor/fighter, closing the distance like a stalking predator closing unabashed on its wounded quarry. "You //have// got skill, and I'm legit glad you're the real deal..."

The obvious 'but' comes as K' -flashes- into a blur of black and trailing afterimages of the torch in his hand, the fires now burning hotter, tighter, compressing into the prototype's grasp as the wild licks of flame stop biting into his own flesh. The important win of this tourney was finding his edge, pushing past it yeat again-- and finding not incineration but strength on the other side. He seeks to dart with translocative speed around the rising Cage's flank and drop a brutal left elbow at the base of Johnny's skull as he flashes past. "But this shit is //lifestyle//!" And K' isn't talking about luxury, either.

COMBATSYS: K' successfully hits Johnny Cage with Blackout EX.

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K'               1/-----==/=======|=======\===----\1      Johnny Cage

"Take my own advice? Have you even met me?"

Even Johnny Cage sounds incredulous when it comes to taking the advice of Johnny Cage. His self-awareness is on full display as he tries to recover from the vicious assault that belongs to the Shades Style Thief that is K'. It's just not fair. He really should find a time machine, or maybe that Kronika chick and go back in time to invent Shades. He'd be so much more wealthy.

At least his fame and clout are pretty untouchable.

By the time Johnny Cage has recovered enough to realize that K' has turned into a blur of violent after images, it's too late. He can see what's coming and the 'oh crap' look can't be hidden from the cameras. He catches all of that brutalizing elbow right to the skull. It's enough to send him spinning to the ground. His sunglasses are knocked askew but they do manage to remain on his face. So that's a plus.

Johnny Cage is down for a moment longer than he normally would be. It takes him a dramatic second to push himself up to his feet. He attempts to wipe the blood from his mouth, while also making sure that his jaw is still intact... and his head is still on his body the right way.

"You really gotta' stop telegraphing your moves, man. They hurt less when you do that." Somehow he's still able to talk shit even whilst wobbly walking towards K' to try and close some of the distance that was made. "I mean, unless you're gonna' do something like... THIS!"


COMBATSYS: Johnny Cage successfully hits K' with Uppercut.
- Power hit! -

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K'               1/-======/=======|=======\===----\1      Johnny Cage

By all rights, K' should be on top of this comeback. Cage is slow to rise, while the prototype darts around him like a predator waiting for the final lunge of a wounded meal. The uppercut is, as Johnny intimates, telegraphed, perhaps a little tired-- but -perfectly- timed. It crashes into the youth's jaw as he fails to feint, sending K' reeling away from Cage, a spray of blood drawn from his suddenly split lip.

The crimson spreads in a smear as K' draws the back of his fingerless left glove across his face, righting his sunglasses and centering his intent gaze solely on the actor/fighter. Or is it fighter/actor after all? "They really don't." K' observes simply, dourly; it works for both Cage's pain, and his own. "Alright, Hollywood..." It's not a statement K' expounds upon; not in words. The modulating circuitry in his armored gauntlet surges from warm illumination to brilliant heat, suddenly, sharply overloading its ability to modulate or measure the energy the bioweapon beckons forth.

That siren song sees the temperature around K' surge, heat distorting the air about and above him as his right hand flexes, clutching a coalescent bonfire... and trying to contain it. K Prime's jaw sets in a fierce clench, muscles tensing as the prototype coils... ready to strike.

COMBATSYS: K' builds up fiery energy in his gauntleted hand!

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K'               2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\===----\1      Johnny Cage

Johnny Cage keeps his distance. From behind his own signature shades he can see the power and the charging up of artificial limbs and such. It really is too much to take in at a moment's notice. So, as usual, the entirety of Johnny Cage is to play it off. And talk. Or act. Or maybe a bit of both.

"So, after I finish kicking your ass, you wanna' trade Sunglass Connect numbers? I could use a pair like yours. My collection is pretty much screaming for some of those."

Leave it to Johnny Cage to try and make some deals happen while in the middle of a fight for the greatest tourney of the moment. But also using it as a moment to try and catch his breath and get back on top of his game. And maybe even prepare for whatever shenanigans scary power arms are going to bring.

COMBATSYS: Johnny Cage takes five.

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K'               2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\==-----\1      Johnny Cage

Cage takes a moment to catch his breath, even as K' roars an auric crescendo, beckoning the ravenous, ancient fire into Earthrealm with a hungry intensity of his own. Instinct drives him, and let's face it-- programming and conditioning are there to do a fair bit of urging, as well. It's at this moment, as Johnny tries to up his fashion game, that the Beast of Flame is drawn... to laugh. It's not a long or boisterous thing, but a deep and genuine chuckle. Abject amusement in an instant of dangerous confrontation and noteworthy stakes. "You're fucking kidding, right?" The prototype inquires rather rhetorically, with a shake of his head.

"I don't even remember which truck stop these were." Or which name was on the tag. The same assholes make more or less all the sunglasses, anyway; rigged as hell. Red and black, black and red, gunmetal and what the fuck ever. This color scheme, that color scheme, it's all a meaningless blur. "In this life, Hollywood, anyone who's not on your budget just sticks to the cheap shit." Which clearly works, let's be frank.

K' would strut, but he's too busy crossing the arena in a flash of fiery motion, translocating through sheer alacrity to whirl into a reciprocal uppercut. It's led by his armored right which tears a crescent of ragged, profaned sacred flame that threatens to scorch a searing scar across Cage's torso and erupt like a fuel air bomb into his jaw, enough explosive force transferred in that singular strike to launch both fighters fiercely skyward. ... Johnny's flight would be dramatically more turbulant than K Prime's.

COMBATSYS: Johnny Cage just-defends K''s Empowered Crow Bite EX!

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K'               1/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\==-----\1      Johnny Cage

It's really strange the way Johnny Cage listens to this information. He's way too rich and famous to know about how 'cheap shades' work. Which is why it looks like he's in the middle of trying to compute the words that came from K's mouth. He just... doesn't get it. What.

"That... sucks." Johnny Cage takes a quick moment to grab his personal tape recorder. "Note to Self: Make 'Cheap' Sunglasses Line. Truck Stops." He gives the tape recorder a twirl and pockets it. And with that done he focuses his attention on putting himself back into his classic fighting stance. Because, y'know, he /is/ in the middle of a pretty damn important fight right now.

Which he really shouldn't have been making memos through but he's got a Brand to think about.

As the fire bomb comes at him in full stride, Johnny Cage throws his arms up and crosses them in front of his body. There's a half-step backwards that he takes to makes sure he doesn't move. K's fist of flame smacks right into those blocking arms of his. Johnny's eyes light up behind his own shades and he flashes his Hollywood grin. "Ooooooh. No cigar, Truck Stop." Dropping nicknames, baby!

That's when Johnny Cage drops back further and turns to one of the cameras. "You're gonna' wanna' close in tight on this one." Johnny Cage spins his head back towards K' and allows the greenish glow to surround his body as he raises a leg and slides speedily in K's direction. Each one of those Johnny Cage shadow-images making a different face as they trail behind Hollywood Prime.

COMBATSYS: K' blocks Johnny Cage's Shadow Kick.

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K'               2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\====---\1      Johnny Cage

"There's worse-- HRRNHH..." The abrupt pause is brought on by the sturdy crush of Cage's surging kick into the prototype's braced frame, tensing tightly and coiling into a braced, bent armored limb, the ironclad guard holding against the dual onslaught of the action star's energy and bootheel projection. "-- ... things." It's a little terser. Case in point, really. K' rights himself and darts -away- from Cage, either sensing a trap or forced out of his own, maintaining the charge of gathered celestial fire even as he consumes it like the core of a microcosmic star to fuel him, firing that spiritual furnace thoroughly deep into the fight.

"You really like them, huh?" K' seems quietly proud. Even pleased. It -has- to be another trap, right? The prototype plucks the sunglasses from his face, his eyes burning with the spectrum of an autumn sunset lit by wildfire as he locks his gaze across the stony expanse, intent on the fighter-slash-actor.

"Guess that just proves you rich pricks are playing yourselves." This, too, seems to please K'. This pleasure is more cynical and dry and thus more likely genuine. The aura of flame and shimmering, distorting heat grows around him as K' tenses harder, gritting his teeth tighter, forcing past the growing pain and heat that threatens even the wielder of the Kusanagi flame. Defiantly, tirelessly, the experimental pyre burns higher. At least as long as its physical conduit can withstand it himself...

COMBATSYS: K' builds up fiery energy in his gauntleted hand!

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K'               1/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\=====--\1      Johnny Cage

Johnny Cage doesn't set traps. He doesn't think that far ahead. Sure he comes to his fights with stunt doubles and props and fangirls but these are all just part of his Hollywood image. His Brand. It's all gotta' be part of the show. Otherwise, there's really no point in doing any of the things that he's done. There's no point in doing the fights that he does. There'd be no reason to do anything.

But Johnny Cage has decided to mount some sort of offense and he's not about to just let it die now that he's Shadow Kicked things off. He moves after K' trying to keep up with his movements, without getting too close to the flame. He almost resembles a moth at this point. "Rich /and/ Famous. Don't forget the famous part."

Johnny Cage takes the next moment to drop into signature crouch mode and just comes back up towards K' with the most Mortal of Kombat moves known to the MK Fanbase...

The Deadly Upperkut.

Let's see if its worth a Toasty!

COMBATSYS: K' blocks Johnny Cage's The Klassic.

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K'               2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|===----\-------\0      Johnny Cage

What Cage may lack in forethought, he makes up for in concentration of uppercuts. This time, the prototype is braced against the formidable strike, and the klassic punch crashes against crossed limbs, a flaring corona of profaned sacred flame erupting outwards as the two warriors clash momentarily, and K' flexes back against the bruising impact. Heavy boots slide backwards against the stone in that collision... and then the Beast of Flame goes with that flow.

"Who ever could?" K' replies drily, shoving off the fighter-slash-actor into a graceful, backwards lunge. The same motion sees him whip those shades forward, whirling them end over end in a blurring arc across the space between the kombatants. "Check 'em out, Hollywood!" K' suggests, even as the whipping sunglasses might smack Cage squarely, stingingly in the face...

COMBATSYS: Johnny Cage parries K''s Empowered Chain Drive!

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K'               1/----<<</<<<<<<<|=======\-------\1      Johnny Cage

Johnny Cage spots those shades headed in his direction and does the only thing he can think of to do when there's a projectile headed in his direction like that. Johnny Cage goes full on Bullet Time and bends backwards with the most stylish of Matrix dodges. "You're right." Johnny quips as the shades pass over him. "These look horrible." How he has time to critique the cheap sunglasses while not getting hit with them has everything to do with slow motion probably.

Johnny Cage doesn't stop there. Instead, he just drops himself down into one of his most stylish move that he's oh so used to performing. It's also the part where he does the most telegraphing... to let all his fans know what's coming... the SPLITS.

"I love this part."

Yeah, no more description needed. It's the Nut Punch.

COMBATSYS: Johnny Cage successfully hits K' with Nut Punch EX.
Grazing Hit

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K'               1/---<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\-------\1      Johnny Cage

In a flash, K' follows up the whirling shades, intent on driving a relentless assault into the actor-- instead, Cage is dissing, dropping low, and executing an Angry Weinstein. The onslaught is forgotten as the prototype throws his weight sidelong, altering his aggressive momentum -just- enough that that hammering fist glances his groin instead of shattering his scrote.

It's still a notably painful point of contact, but it gives K' the chance to recover as he turns his own velocity into a feint around Johnny's right flank. "Whoa Hollywood-- you rich prick pussygrabbers need to learn to //ask//!" In the same fluid motion the Beast of Flame stomps a heavy boot to the stony ground amidst a rushing torrent of surging fire.

With a twisting side-step that brings him back to a cagey ready position against the deceptively dangerous fighter slash actor, the renegade bioweapon kicks the gathered burst across the span separating him from Cage and seeks to add to the burns by driving that wave of demonslaying flame across and through his surprisingly resilient adversary. Taking Cage seriously may not have been enough, after all-- but K' is far from finished yet. Cornered predators are //dangerous//, and that shines readily in the Beast of Flame's eyes.

COMBATSYS: Johnny Cage blocks K''s Second Shoot.

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K'               1/--=====/=======|=======\=------\1      Johnny Cage

Johnny Cage rises from his splits with a bit of a back step. He doesn't want to leave himself too open but he's also been called something he doesn't want to be associated with. "Whoa! Too far. Don't lump me in with the creepers." Cage holds his hands up and then closes his fingers. "Closed fist! Closed fist!" There is no grabbing, only punching!

Oh and here comes fire.

Johnny Cage covers himself up as much as possible, putting some arms together and attempting to protect himself from the violent flames! Of course, while he doesn't get burned to a crisp, the singe marks are sure to leave some sort of scar that he can use to pull some hot fangirls later. It's all about the fangirls at this point!

Throwing his hair back as he uncrosses those arms to break free of the flame, Johnny Cage rushes K' and aims a series of quick, stiff and angled punches at the face of the punk ass prototype!

"You're gonna' need your shades back after these!" Johnny Cage even takes a moment to look towards one of the cameras and flash his sparkle grin because that's what Hollywood Stars do. He should probably pay more attention to who he's trying to punch but... y'know. Showoffs.

COMBATSYS: K' interrupts Rapid Jabs from Johnny Cage with Heaven Drive.

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K'               0/-------/---====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2      Johnny Cage

Cage is prepared to mug-- but he's not prepared for the reality of this newest re-re-re-collision between powerful, stubborn bastards. "Rationalize it however you want, sick fucker." K' deadpans low. The first triphammer fist finds air, K' snapping his head sharply to the side and weaving around... then straight in.

Like the technique he deflected so skillfully (luckily?), Cage finds himself facing down an armored, uppercutting fist wreathed in a meteoric corona of celestial fire. Unlike that time, this time it's already past that honed defense, and suddenly rattling Cage's cage; and then crashing into his face as both fighters rocket skyward from sheer force of unleashed violence.

K' coils and strikes anew, twisting his body about and throwing his weight behind ascending momentum in a corkscrew that delivers a second raging crescent of a rising uppercut to Johnny's airborne ragdoll, the Beast of Flame immediately chasing the fighter-slash-actor into a third such executioner's axe of godkilling flame.

It's a fair bet the prototype's landing in a three-point crouch, gauntlet pressed to the stone of the arena as heat visibly sinks into the grounding layer, threatening its integrity momentarily. "Time's up, Hollywood."

So here's the part where Johnny Cage finds himself completely berated and trapped within an onslaught of pain and flame. It's actually harder for Cage to realize what's happening due to actually being obliterated by each and every single collision of flame and power that comes from K' and pours into Johnny Cage's body and soul.

The descent from on high (in more ways than one) causes something(s) inside Johnny Cage to break when his body slams into the ground. There's just too much of everything happening to his body at once for him to process. The blood, the scorch marks, the broken bones... it all just lays there in a pile on the ground. A sexy pile but a pile nonetheless.

His sunglasses are broken, clean in half, laying on the ground next to the body of Johnny Cage.

That blinks. Once. Then twice. Before Johnny Cage actually tries to sit up. It takes him a moment or two to get himself up to some kind of kneeling position. "Ugh... I..." Cage blinks as he realizes his sunglasses are broken. "... you broke my sunglasses. You bastard!"

Fueled by the adrenaline of Shades Loss, Johnny Cage stumble steps towards K', before practically falling into his Signature Splits, again. He aims a three-count series of punches at K's nuts-- ONE MORE TIME --before launching himself into the air to drop a last ditch elbow down towards the enemy of his Sunglasses State!

"Curtain Call, mother--"

Somebody's cell phone rings. Loudly.

COMBATSYS: Johnny Cage can no longer fight.

[                    \\\\\\\\\\  <
K'               0/-------/---====|

COMBATSYS: K' dodges Johnny Cage's Ball Buster EX+.

[                    \\\\\\\\\\  <
K'               0/-------/---====|

K' is battered, winded, pushed farther than he expected by the fighter-slash-actor-- and not the other way around-- particularly after how the bout started. What he's not, however, is down for the count. What he's not is down with Cage fisting his scrotum even once, much less thrice, and really... K' has already made this abundantly clear!

The bioweapon pushes forcefully back to his feet, snapping his own shades firmly back into place and gliding back one stride, two, shifting and darting away from the last-ditch onslaught. K' hurls himself aside into a swift, compact roll, coming up once more in a crouch as Johnny is left with only empty stone to elbow-drop with his ebbing vestiges of fight.

"Time to bow out then; have a breather, Hollywood." K' recommends as Cage calls curtains. "You touchy bastards better have a hell of an encore if you're hoping to salvage this shit-- and they better fucking keep their hands off my junk!" K' doth protest quite much for a man who's most certainly, quite intentionally, punched Angel in the tits.

It keeps the angry fire burning, though. Stokes his outrage at this all-out attempt to win-- something he might have more immediate respect for if it weren't K Prime's own junk on the line. K' finds his breath, he finds his footing, he -thinks- he's facing the right, real afterimage ringing in his head as he does so. The crack of the Beast of Flame's neck is audible, the heat searing from his fingertips undiminished. The crowd cheers; K' shouts threats to burn the whole motherfucker down. The crowd screams louder.

COMBATSYS: K' awaits the next challenger.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
K'               0/-------/---====|

"No, Hakumen."

The words come thundering across the whole arena, as the audience falls silent. High above, up on the rafters, stands a single man. He is a spiky brown haired muscled man, dressed in e wears a dark green modified ninja outfit with a big red scarf, silver gauntlets, black fingerless gloves, dark green hakama pants that expose his thighs. On his back is a massive nail, as in, what you would need a massive hammer to hammer in. On his face? An X-Shaped scar across it. He is glowering down below, arms crossed, his voice comes in a stilted, intense manner, piercing the very sound of the arena. He shakes his head. "This is not your battle." And suddenly, he uncrosses his arms, hands tightened in fists, as he ignites in his own fire.

"This is the battle of a TRUE NINJA WARRIOR!"

Wreathed in flames, the muscled ninja descends from the high rafters of the arena like a comet to heaven.Landing in a blast of smoke, he sweeps his arms, clearing away the flame and fog as he stares intently at the arrogant teenager. Immediately, he cycles through the kuji-in, the hand seals of the ninja. Transfixed at K', he finally announces who he was, and why he had come here.

"I am Baaaaa-"

He stops short. He was an outlaw. He, too, had encountered the Angel tournament. Specifically, he had joined the Golden Angel tournament, and had faced off Yuri in swimsuited combat of water guns. Where every drop of water would do clothing damage. He had expected that Yuri would back off before he would, when it came to the nude. He learned you never played naked chicken with a Sakazaki, and what more, Robert Garcia was after his life. He must conceal his identity, as a hero must. And, of course, follow the honor of the invite.

"I am baaaaaaaasketball superstar Lucky Glabar! I like shooting the hoops, and slamming dunks like a real American!" His eyes snap around cunningly, as a ninja would. Glancing around, he suddenly announces. "Now I will throw basketballs! As a NINJ- As a BASKETBALL FIGHTER WOULD DO!" He sweeps his arms, limbs moving swiftly as there is a blur. He throws a basketball at K' in a flick of the wrist. But it wasn't a basketball. It was a NAIL! Just a normalish one. Not a nine inch nail, but more like, 5 inches, tops. Or was that supposed to be in centimeters.

In any case, he was flicking a nail -right- at K's foot.

COMBATSYS: Bang has joined the fight here.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
K'               0/-------/---====|=------\-------\0             Bang

COMBATSYS: K' blocks Bang's Bang-style Shuriken.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
K'               0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0             Bang

Bang's entrance isn't exactly ninja-stealthy, definitely leading credence to the idea that the man is, in fact, some kind of superstar, and not a ninja at all. It's devilishly cunning. K' has little patience of grasp of this advanced technique, just kind of staring with his mouth slightly agape as not-Bang takes the stage, and well... hucks a nail at him.

A surprisingly forceful, penetrative little nail, one that stings between the armored plates of the glove that swats it aside-- for the instants before the metal transubstantiates to gas in the intense surge of heat it's subsequently subject to as the point digs deep in the bioweapon's fist.

The superheated, glowing conduits of the modulator encasing his right fist go a bit mad at this point, the surge of power unmistakeable. The outwards rush of releasing heat unignorable. The Beast of Flame's white mane surges skyward, its tips glimmering to embers as they, too, incinerate to subtly smoke-traced air. "The hell--" the power fills him, threatens to spill through the technology damming it, threatens to fill his mind with only visions of ravenous, purging flame.

"-- kind of clown car--" K' drops to one knee, bracing his right forearm with his left hand, the motorcycle glove burning away, his skin reddening, blistering darker than its extant hue by several degrees.

"-- did you chucklefucks roll up in?!?" Most of the pain seems to be of his own making, a struggle for control... or a deadly crescendo for the last movement to come.

COMBATSYS: K' builds up fiery energy in his gauntleted hand!

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
K'               0/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0             Bang

That nail melted.

Bang huffs aloud, growling in sheer impressment at the raw power that K' was showing with a mere swat. Dangerous power, in fact. Hot, burning power, that the foul mouth of the tanned teen only barely concealed. Bang didn't show it, but he realized that he was going to have to get near this guy, and that this guy was going to make that very, very painful. He knew in his heart that he probably should kite and make an opening.

But what would his master say?

Bang nods firmly, tightening both of his own arms as he clenches his fists. His own fire begins to flare up, a candlelight against the solar magnitude of K' own flame. "Not only are there no cars for clowns with which to carry noble heroes like us." He rumbles on stilted words, as he crouches down. He was going to spring. "But there are not a single fuck from us which one should even snigger about, to say the least chuckle!"

"There will be hell to roll through!"

He springs, and in a flash, he is at K'. He had one shot. But he was going to make it hurt. He slices both of his arms before him in a cross fashion, attempting to slam both limbs into K'. The cross chop would be aflame, the burning chi scissoring hard into K'. Bang knew he was springing the trap.

But he could only make his master proud to trap that spring!

COMBATSYS: K' interrupts Bang's Twin Palm Strike - Adamantine Halberd from Bang with Empowered Crow Bite EX.

[                  \\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////              ]
K'               1/----===/=======|=======\=------\1             Bang

It's hard to call something so telegraphed as dangerous a properly set trap. It's more like staring down the barrel of a loaded weapon. Leaping into the yard with a frothing dog. Grabbing a red-hot cooking element. Bang charges, wielding his own fire, and finds there is, indeed, Hell to Roll Through. As the not-at-all-a-ninja strikes, the Beast of Flame //erupts//.

Profaned, sacred fire roars from his grasp, tendrils of spiralling fire surrounding K' as his bent legs flex, and he hurtles full on into Bang, full on into the bruising, burning pain, led by the warhead that is the prototype's red right hand. It's a singular, powerful uppercut at the heart of the technique, one which carries the renegade bioweapon skyward under its own, physical force. This strike is almost entirely obfuscated by the coruscating sheathe of godkilling flame that surges, suffusing his surrounds to saturation.

The ragged-edged intensity of an autumn sunset localizes into a rending rocket that rips into, nearly through Bang, punishing bone and cartiledge as the brave hero is launched violently back from which he came, blasted with such ferocity that it threatens to launch one with lesser control out towards the crowd like a souvenier home run.

K' lands far more gracefully, but forcefully for his part as well, slamming to the stone in a fwooshing rush of a swirling, celestial inferno. The Beast of Flame grits his teeth, clenches his fist, and despite his exertion so far... only /more/ power rips its way into this reality, the prototype's skin burning gradually, but painfully as the channel opens all the wider.

Did Bang damage the limiters in the tech within K Prime's gauntlet? -- or is the renegade simply cutting loose, pushing himself farther, probing well past "safe" and into "statement". Defiance. Stubborness. //Strength//. One never knows who might be watching. "Nnngh." For the first time really this bout, K' has little in the realm of witty rejoinder. "Fucking bring it then, 'Hero'." Didn't Bang -just- do that? Tiny bit of shade in the implication, perhaps.

Bang expected it to be hot.

But not that hot.

The blast of fire nearly cooks him instantly. It is only the advanced ninja training of being set on fire that keeps him alive, and conscious. Only a true ninja master could be dead and conscious, after all. The blows knocks him to the edge of the ring, his body burning. He rolls, instinctive ninja training encouraging him to stop and drop. Soon, it contains enough, where he can see through the pain. He couldn't handle a second one of those. He was way over his head.

But he rises up, still smoking.

He had hit something. K' and his fire broke through him like paper before the flame, but he broke through the setup. He had to finish him off! And while the fires of K' spirit were only burning brighter, so was the hot warrior spirit of Bang himself. Patting out the stolen flame on his sleeve, the blackened and bronzed ninja thrusts a fist at K'. "Then bring it I shall, for heroism is the ultimate form... Of... Basketball!" He steeples his fingers before him l. "I bring you the strike that will ravage even the strongest rhino! This is not my Bang. This is my master's bang, who believes in me! Shishigami Super Secret Technique! Prepare for Bang Eruption!"

And Bang zooms straight at K', to sock him right in the kisser!

COMBATSYS: K' dodges Bang's Shishigami Ninja Art (Super Secret) - Bang's Life-or-Death Great Eruption.

[                  \\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////               ]
K'               1/----===/=======|-------\-------\0             Bang

Kusanagi flame roils unabated, surrounding K' in a whorling pool of liquid fire, its hungry tongues licking at the prototype's ankles. The demonslaying weapon doesn't so much call to him, as surge through him. Where Kyo, Saishu are trained to tap their bloodline furnace, a bore to its heart has been drilled by NESTS many a time. It has consumed most of the subjects. Even K' was dubbed a failure; lashed and cast out. The bioweapon himself may not realize it, yet-- but such rhetoric was very much a lie, willful or otherwise.

The flight, the struggles, every aspect of the renegade's lifestyle evading and opposing the Cartel... it's only honed the instincts programmed into him, as much a biological android now as the boy he was before. It's only strengthened his ability to withstand the heavenly fire; to ebb his fear of it. For K' to stop holding it back; they call it cutting loose. Still in this late hour, the volume builds, the fire stoked again and again.

Bang isn't wrong, though: his opponent is battered, bloody, suffering for every moment of stubborn fight. The ninja's initial assault stung, and in his current state, K' really can't take much more of that at all. Thus the prototype gambles on staying the hell out of Bang's way, this time, inverting his initial tactic... or impulse. Fight or flight; nearly every creature has it.

In K' the former is artificially honed to a ridiculous, high upkeep edge. There's aptitude for the latter as well, particularly in service of that drive to violence, and K' demonstrates it gracefully, all but launching from his crouch into a backwards arc, flame trailing fingertips and feet as he abruptly places himself near the opposite edge of the arena. "Focus on fighting, fuckwit. You're not fooling //anybody//."

Subtly, slightly weakly, the bioweapon smirks. /That/ was a trap. A conscious challenge to get Bang to expend his might in an all-out bid to end this. A game of chicken with a locomotive that, this time, K' won. He celebrates by blasting a plume of flame from his hand to the ground before him, the spot surging into a higher, swirling firespout as he kicks it outwards, a wave of fire crossing the distance between renegade and outlaw ninja with alarming immediacy.

COMBATSYS: K' successfully hits Bang with Second Shoot.

[                   \\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////                    ]
K'               1/--=====/=======|====---\-------\0             Bang

Bang says, "Uh oh!""

Delete above me!

"Uh oh!"

That's all Bang can respond as his opening attack is evaded. He sweeps, attempting to reposition for a follow up strike. But K' was already turning up the heat for more fire. He tries to slip in, tries to get past it. But he can't. The fire is too strong, too fast. Once again, he is blasted back. And this time, he gets up much, much slower. He thought he could take only one more hit like that.

He was wrong.

"No!" He blurts out, staggering up, still smoking and burning. He turns back, chest seared red with second degree burns. "My team is depending on me... And I must prove myself to the master! "He looks ready to compose right then and there. But in reality? He was charging his gauntlets with green energy. For a ninja he was doing an awful lot of charging. In any case, instead of slowing down his attack, he leaps in at K' again, giving a blazing low kick, almost daring his chin to be tapped...

Or was it trapped?

COMBATSYS: Bang successfully hits K' with Burning Heart.
- Power hit! -

[                       \\\\\\\  < >  /////////                     ]
K'               1/=======/=======|=====--\-------\0             Bang

// "You're a poor conduit for TRUE power, child. The technology is the only thing preserving your life, the only reason you are of any use of all." The figure chuckles, echoing across memory as a cruel, cold thing. "That simple glove is worth more than -you- are." //


Where is he? Oh right. His legs are kicked -out- from under him, to understate the hell out of events, as Bang lashes low while K' guards high. The ninja slips the renegade's guard at perhaps the ideal moment, and the next instant K' is faceplanting into the unforgiving slate of Howard Arena's monolithic arena slab. He's only down there an instant, a blink of an eye and a spatter of blood, before he's rolling backwards, clear of Bang-- and back to a crouched, poised posture. "Close, Ninja." For just a moment, the focused rush of power slowed, for just that blink, the flames lost their ceaseless fuel, but it's back in the same scant span. Continuing-- no, concluding-- its ominous build.

The bioweapon's shades are broken on his face, one lens missing, his amber eyes burning bright enough with that red-orange flame to be seen easily regardless. K' cracks his neck and rises, surrounded by a roaring updraft of superheated air, his tousled hair soaring wildly, his burnt-edged clothing fluttering.

It's almost painful to approach him; it's almost certainly painful to //be// him just now. "But I /am/ the fucking grenade." It's a threat, it's a warning, there's just a brief pause in what the prototype means to do instead of the smart thing: standing down and letting Maxima look at his gauntlet, while Abigail kicks this Nail Guy's weird ass. The limiter on his fist flashes brighter, subtle klaxons raise alarm to the pyromaniac, and his answer is to switch them off, the armored tech powering down audibly.

K' grits his teeth, uttering low, "Walk the fuck away; you don't know what I am." It's almost merciful, if not for the bloodied, half-frenzied weapon's deeds, and intentions. At this point the Beast of Flame is all but subsumed by a growing pyre, hungry chi licking and biting at him as surely as it seeks any other foe to purge. K' releases a long, focused monosyllable of pain, but neither tense poise nor resolute focus waver for the briefest tick.

COMBATSYS: K' builds up fiery energy in his gauntleted hand!

[                      \\\\\\\\  < >  /////////                     ]
K'               2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=====--\-------\0             Bang

It was the opening he needed.

Knocking K' down, he readies both arms, as the opponent charges with that flame again. Exhaustion was creeping on him. He had to capitalize now. But he saw it across K' face so clearly. It was a familiar look. Not a feral look. But the resolve was a mortal type. Fighting for his life. A residence again the world. Also Bang got burned badly last time he threw himself in the flames. He readies to smash through, but the glove, the power. He was going to.... No.

Something bothers Bang.

He withdraws from the building pyre. Was this him running away? No. He felt bad for K' and his anger. He didn't understand it. But his instincts rung clear. Arms crossed, and still burning, he stares into the conflagration building. And he calls out loud. "You are a great warrior!" Bang says brightly in his husky voice, as he pinches out a flame on his shoulder. "And your power is well suited for the King Of Fighters! But every battle is the pin released from even the hottest grenade. I cannot run now, no matter how your power makes me want to release hot defecations into my ninj- my basketball briefs! I must steel my sphincter even in the face of utter destruction! No, your anger will not be my wrath." He crouches down.

And he crosses his legs, as he assumes the lotus position.

In the face of fiery cataclysm, as the viewers watch in amazement, Bang responds by namuing. He relaxes, as beckons K'. "Come then, not as a grenade, but as the fighter I am more than pleased to face in this arena! Let me insert the pin back within! Release yourself! Safely!" He shuts his eyes, and draws in a heavy breath. He exhales, mouth open.


COMBATSYS: Bang issues a challenge!!

[                      \\\\\\\\  < >  /////////                     ]
K'               2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=====--\-------\0             Bang

COMBATSYS: Bang enters a meditative state.

[                      \\\\\\\\  < >  //////////                    ]
K'               2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\-------\0             Bang

Truth be told, Bang might have been breaking through, might have almost had K' until the whole 'Your anger will not be my wrath' thing. It's all downhill from there, though. Or maybe the whole sphincter thing. Either way, by the time the Ninja Master of Nails finishes his challenge, the Beast of Flame is chuckling a bit derisively. "You don't get it." His rebuttal isn't particularly helpful in its introduction, but K' is certainly succinct. "What do you think this is?" He's likely not referring to the tournament fight itself. "There's no safety for you; and sure as shit none for //me//."

The renegade bioweapon doesn't settle down. Doesn't re-engage the limiters. Doesn't give Bang another opportunity to forfeit. Instead, he thrusts a tensely flexed palm towards the stony ground, and all around K', it is as if Hell itself opened to its hottest layer. The paradoxically heavenly chi fills the fighting ring, swirling in brilliant, overwhelming inferno like a raging forest fire, like the miniature relief of a town lost to flame.

In an instant, the entire area around and between them is filled with enough Kusanagi power to give Orochi painful pause. In an instant, K' is lost to the blinding heart of that conflagration, as the crowd alternately chants and curses his rude, violent name. It's all lost to the renegade in the roar of the fire, in the focus on surviving this moment at all.

K' shrugs off the shredded, flaming remains of his leather jacket, clenches his jaw and stubbornly /demands/ control as the weapon seeks to devour his own arm. K' collapses to the ground in the midst, but presses on, unwilling to relinquish the punishing firestorm until the very last possible moment. It would leave him at the center of a charred and glowing span of arena, the tips of his hair embers, much of his wardrobe ash. His skin is burnt, his body nearly consumed by the rampant power--

COMBATSYS: K' keeps on fighting!

[                      \\\\\\\\  < >  //////////                    ]
K'               0/-------/-------|=======\-------\0             Bang

-- But the soul still burns!

COMBATSYS: K' successfully hits Bang with Empowered #Hyper Chain Drive#.
- Power hit! -

[                      \\\\\\\\  < >                                ]
K'               0/-------/---<<<<|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2             Bang

Bang inhales, as K' gives his warning.

And he exhales, when the fires consume him.

There is the shape of -something- briefly in the flames. But the shadowy outline begins to melt away, disentigrating as the fires endure. It's hot. Too hot. Heat doesn't even describe, as the audience is forced to avert their eyes. And when the fires finally cease?

There is no Bang.

Only a pile of ashes, where the man once sat. Was he dead? Completely destroyed by the full force of the fire? There is a hushed murmur through the crowd. In the King of Fighters, did K'... just kill a man? The murmur of horror rises, as it seems the reality of K's power was revealed. What was he? Why did he do this? Should he have been able to control himself? All questions that hammer out, as Bang is no more.

There is the distant sound of a door being flung open.

And another.

And another.

And wouldn't you know it, another.

A final door slams apart, as the shape comes out. Judging from the blur of burnt flesh, the situation of K's arm was roughly 90% of Bang's visible body right now. That was an entirely lethal injury, under normal circumstances. It's very easy to judge that, because that was a nearly naked Bang, wearing only his lioncloth. And yet, his scar seemed fine. And while he was covered in flames, he was clenching his giant nail tightly gripped in both hands. Surging to drive it straight into K'. Normally, he would be finishing with an explosion of a punch to hammer that nail in. A blast so powerful, that it would blast off his remaining clothing. But K' already got that part. No, Bang would be driving his nail in, and promptly going limp. He had one attack in him. No combos. No platters. Just nailing K' as fast as he could. And he sure would be fast. K' would be in trouble, serious trouble.

Unless, of course, he could handle about 8 seconds of lead in time, from door slamming to Bang connecting.

COMBATSYS: Bang can no longer fight.

[                      \\\\\\\\  <
K'               0/-------/---<<<<|

COMBATSYS: K' breaks through #Shishigami Ninja Art (Hot-Blooded Final Secret) - The Ultimate Bang# from Bang with Knee Assault!

[                       \\\\\\\  <
K'               0/-------/=======|

As Bang is apparently incinerated, vaporized, erased from the world of the living in a torrent of swirling, arena-filling fury, as the audience is hushed, alarmed, roused and angered all at once, K' is in little condition to respond. Indeed, the attack itself nearly took -him- out of the fight in turn. The outpouring of Kusanagi flame threatened to devour the bioweapon as surely as it seems to have consumed the nail-wielding not-ninja. His own clothes shimmer with lingering embers, the air around him distorted, the stone at his feet charred black as the prototype kneels, breathing heavily, in an agonized but defiant three-point crouch.

It's not clear if K' can rise, initially. It's not clear if he can even hold onto consciousness. It's not clear he hears the doors slamming, over and over and over, or registers the onrushing final effort of the basketball star he faces. K' remains knelt. K' smoulders. K' gasps for breath, wills his muscles into resilience, stubbornly refuses to fall-- the crowd roars as Bang reappears, the moments of horror only fueling the drama of the display before them, but even this appears to give K' little to no warning. He's just not focused, ball of exhausted pain that he is.

The prototype remains a beast of instinct, however. A killer, a fighter programmed sharply, that edge honed by the lifestyle chosen by the renegade. Bang closes, Bang launches, and for just half an instant, K' remains crouched. It's the last possible moment that the Beast of Flame springs, driving himself directly into the path of that driving point like a man possessed.

Bang's deadly implement lashes into his knee, it penetrates deeply, but there's force of steel behind the return stroke as well-- K' drives himself airborne by the force of that kneestrike, and the fierce momentum augmented by a flexing spring of his other leg. In a vehicular collision's worth of force, nail meets knee and K' drives the implement back abruptly, its broad head nailing Bang instead in a violent reversal. Fresh blood drawn from his leg, K' crashes to the arena in much the same posture he had assumed before being pressed-- crouched, gasping, fighting for awareness.

There is no victory pose to match the announcer's hype, no salute to the roaring crowd. K' coaxes his own power back under control, tempers his focus... and rises to his feet, casting a dismissive look to his surrounds, and a nod of respect to the opposite corner; alongside a very articulate, "Hrnh. Fuck." Ladies and gentlemen-- your illustrious King of Fighters. He's a true charmer, a media dream. And quite possibly in well over his head, again.

COMBATSYS: K' has ended the fight here.

Log created on 17:08:31 10/20/2019 by K', and last modified on 09:01:50 06/30/2020.