Crock - Words Which Carry Water

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Description: Tsinghua travels in between to the Gong Manor, but is accosted by Crock (That's C-Rock). The mysterious punk seems to be obsessed about the spirit of the world, and how it relates to Tsinghua...

singhua sits in one of the carriages seats, on an old, worn down train slowly hobbles to a stop. Looking out of the window and admiring the afternoon landscapes. Every once in a while Yawning loudly. The train finally comes to stop, and Tsinghua steps outside into the village. Traditional Chinese Architecture is very present here. The archetypal 'hanging hill' roofs might eye impressive to an average tourist, but it is a relatively normal sight for the boy. He steps outside, slowly trekking into the village's center as he takes out a map from the large cloth pouch hanging from his shoulder, looking over the paper as he tries to figure out the best route."

Rural China, small villages and towns far away from the main Tourist Hubs of the country. Places of both Tradition, and hard-working native groups trying to provide for their family. A poorly connected network of hobbly roads and poor public transport. Tao Tsinghua is about to arrive sleepy village of Zhumuqiao. surrounded by forests and mountains of lush green, most of the inhabitants getting by as farmers, craftsmen and traders. For now, this is the furthest Tao Tsinghua can come by train on the long route to home.

Tsinghua sits in one of the carriages seats, on an old, worn down train slowly hobbles to a stop. Looking out of the window and admiring the afternoon landscapes. Every once in a while Yawning loudly. The train finally comes to stop, and Tsinghua steps outside into the village. Traditional Chinese Architecture is very present here. The archetypal 'hanging hill' roofs might eye impressive to an average tourist, but it is a relatively normal sight for the boy. He steps outside, slowly trekking into the village's center as he takes out a map from the large cloth pouch hanging from his shoulder, looking over the paper as he tries to figure out the best route.

See, it might make sense for a busker to be out here.

It might. Even in a village like this. It's not surprising that near the train station that there was a blanket laid out. And there, a busker was sitting, playing a guitar. It's not unusual. But not from a person like this. A green-mohawked Laowai in a neon green jean vest and ragged acid-washed jeans underneath sits at the side of the train platform, strumming silently. As in, there was no noise. But why would there be; it was an electric guitar, crudely wrought from poorly welded metal. There was no power running through it. A can was out; there was no money in it. For such an usual sight, he should be getting attention on him. And yet, people seem to be going out of their way to avoid him. He keeps his head down, as he plays.

A sneer frozen upon his upper lip.

Tsinghua can't help but notice the strange man sitting by the train, as he walks past him. A tourist, this far out? He was obviously not from around here. The boy however, decides to not get himself involved. Opting simply to drop a 10-Yuan bill into the can, and continuing on his journey. Painfully, the only way to reach his destination is a painfully long walk from here on out. The boy is used to the walk, but it is nontheless a bore. He packs the map back up, and starts the trek. Going northward out of the town- though not before purchasing some food for the road, at the nearby grocery store.

The structures become more and more spread out, until it's replaced entirely by a serene bamboo forest on an upwards hill- a hobby crooked dirt road crossing through. An hour in, and the boy starts to feel more and more tired. And eventually decides to take a seat on a large nearby rock. Listening to the rustling of leaves, and chirping birds, Tsinghua dozes off in a meditative trance.

"Hey. Fucker."

The jeering tone cuts through. The chirps of the birds, the rustling of the leaves continue undisturbed by the arrival of the busker. He was quiet coming here. The last time they met, it was dropping the bill into the can. And Tsinghua might have noticed how the busker looked up, and stared so intently at him at him, and the map. Maybe it was a faux pas on the donation? Well no, it wasn't that. He was waiting a long time, and he was walking a long time. In one hand, he was holding his guitar, as the strap hangs from his shoulders. In the other hand is a can. It doesn't remain long in his hand, as he spikes the can straight at Tsinghua's head.

"You dropped your fucking money, IDIOT"

"Huh?" /clank!/

The can clatters against his head, bouncing off and on the ground as it leaves a painful bruise. The boy rubs his head, as he's rudely awakened by the shouting guitarist. He looks around warily- before locking eyes with him, confused and frustrated. "What was the reason behind that, humble musician? That money was a gift to you." The boy stands up. Hand lingering over his cane as he judges the situation- Something is wrong. "I must ask, why have you followed me here, sir?

"Because I am unable to comprehend the reason what business someone like you has here otherwise."

The busker cringes as Tsinghua begins to talk.

Scowling, he starts to pace like an animal, back and forth, body trembling as he strums silently on the guitar. He doesn't lock eyes now, but he broods, steaming as the boy stands up. Finally, when Tsinghua states why he followed him? He reaches one of the trees by the trail.

The punk rocker screams.

"GRAAAAAGH!" He snarls, as he kicks his booted foot into a tree. He kicks it again and again, venting his anger. And then, he stops, still not looking at the boy. "Do you understand what you -SOUND LIKE!?-" He froths, spittle flying from his mouth. "You are a nice, clean GLASS OF WATER! I'm Crock, that's C-Rock. And that's what I saw on the TV, nature boy." He turns back towards Tsinghua, hunching his back as he leans in, his studded face contorted into a leer. "That's when I knew I had to find this cool, clean glass of water. AND SPIT IN IT!"

And Crock does just that, snorting before he hawks a big loogie at Tsinghua's foot.

"E- Excuse me?"

Tsinghua has trouble coming to grips with the situation, as what seems like a deranged man keeps yelling at him. He evades to the side as the glob hits the ground- narrowly avoiding it staining his wooden-soled shoes. He trembles a little, obviously discomforted and a little fearful of the man. Nontheless, he grabs the walking stick and points it to C-Rock. "I have no understanding of what you are saying, Mister Crock. I vehemently ask that you would leave me be."

"Excuse YOU!?"

Tsinghua seemed to be only inciting Crock more and more with his normal reactions to Crock's intensity. What's worse, is when Tsinghua tries to evade his spit, it seemed to push him over the limit. "You CLEAN GLASS of WATER! No TASTE! NO FLAVOR! The DIET FUCKING COKE of FUCKING TOOLS!" Crock starts rushing at the boy now, eye twitching. He didn't seem to notice the stick threatening at him. Rushing -fast- as he strums silently along. He was going to take the base of his crude guitar, and outright bodycheck the chinese ward. Twisting it to slam it squarely into the boy's guts, he was frothing as he screams at him point blank.


COMBATSYS: Crock has started a fight here.

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Crock            0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Tsinghua has joined the fight here.

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Crock            0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0         Tsinghua

COMBATSYS: Tsinghua just-defends Crock's Medium Strike!

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Crock            0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0         Tsinghua

Tsinghua puts his stick in the way of that heavy guitar- parrying the blow as he twists past C-Rock, avoiding harm altogether. He cartwheels backwards- getting into a fighting stance as he observes the maniacal Punker. Balancing on one leg, the cane pointing towards C-rock as the boy holds it besides his head, his left other palm stretched out forward. His voice, stuttery"A- I do n-not have time for this farce. I am going to offer you the possibility to walk away from this still."

"As I do not wish to engage in this pointless fight."

COMBATSYS: Tsinghua calculates his next move.

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Crock            0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0         Tsinghua

COMBATSYS: Tsinghua calculates his next move.

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Crock            0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0         Tsinghua


Crock didn't seem frustrated by the deft defenses of the chinese boy. No, it was the words that were egging him on. It seemed like the manners of the young man was vomit to the punk. As he carefully plans the attack, Crock holds back, sneering at him furiously. "That's what a tall glass of water would say. They would need a POINT! A PURPOSE! This world isn't a well stocked cabinet, waterboy." Crock turns, and he stomps a foot -hard- on the ground. The earth splinters, splitting apart as the loam and stones underneath burst out from underneath, exploding into a pattern of stony spikes towards Tsinghua. Crock glares at him, spitting on the ground as the shockwave ripples out. "This world is CHAOS, waterboy. IT's all a box of matches, and it's all gonna burn."

"And you're just another match ready to go off."

COMBATSYS: Tsinghua fails to reflect Soup Glass Side Salad from Crock with Guding Gen (Xiru).

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Crock            0/-------/------=|======-\-------\0         Tsinghua

Tsinghua clasps together his palms- ready to intercept and freeze the earthen spikes as they come surging through the ground. Unfortunately, the boy does not get his barrier up in time as the rocks tear at his flesh, ripping open patches of cloth and skin as blood slowly starts to stain his light garb.


He cries out stumbling backwards as his stance gets disrupted. "S- Stop this! At once!"

"Or what?"

Crock sneers as he stomps after the boy, trampling the ground. "Or -what?!-" He repeats stronger, spitting again. "This is what I -hate- about you. Not just the fake pretend manners. No, because you are SQUANDERING the gift that's been granted to you. You've been blessed with the chance of a lifetime, and you aren't embracing it!" What was he talking about? He leaps through the air, throwing himself through it as he makes a full-forced body splash to bodyslam Tsinghua. On impact, the very earth would buckle into a crater, before rebounding himself up for a second body slam. "So come on, you HATE ME!"


COMBATSYS: Tsinghua blocks Crock's Hey! Where Is My Catnap?.

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Crock            0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0         Tsinghua

The boy scrambles to defend himself. Avoiding the first body-slam. The rumble through the earth unbalances the boy, as he can only put his stick above him to dampen C-rock's second impact. "I have never even met you- Or you would know that I'm /not pretending/ to do anything."

In response his wings his cane downward towards C-rock, before planting it on the ground vertically- freezing it in space, and standing on the suspended stick with a single leg, body raised in a stance that makes him more difficult to hit.

COMBATSYS: Tsinghua successfully hits Crock with Random Strike.
- Power hit! -

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Crock            0/-------/---====|=======\==-----\1         Tsinghua

Crock collapses after the body slam.

Unbalanced both mentally and physically, there isn't any defense up when he rises up, the cane coming down at him. He takes the hit hard, his exposed part of the head bleeding badly as he screams in pain. Rising up, he stares at the stick. But when it freezes in place, he stares with bug-eyed shock. IN that moment, he sways.

And he screams again, grabbing the guitar by the neck.

Pulling himself out of the strap, he -slams- the guitar hard at Tsinghua, attempting to knock him fully off the stick as he falls into a blind fury. He backswings after the first swipe, doing what he could to chase after the boy. "YOU FAKER! YOU FAKE FAKE FAKER!"


COMBATSYS: Crock knocks away Tsinghua with Fierce Strike.

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Crock            0/-------/--=====|=======\==-----\1         Tsinghua

The boy gets cleanly knocked off- before getting slammed with the backswing as he goes flying back against a bamboo tree. He crumples to a knee, gripping his hurting stomach before he forces himself back up. He is bleeding from his lip- Before putting together his palms and building up a uncontrolled flurry of whirling wooden splinters between them. He quickly launches the spread towards C-Rock, his calm face displaying emotions of desperation as he defends himself from the crazed attacker.

COMBATSYS: Crock blocks Tsinghua's Mubo Shi Bei Jian.

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Crock            0/-------/=======|=======\==-----\1         Tsinghua

As Crock sees the blood, his face twists into a horrible grin.

He stands back, turning his guitar around. And then... the droning sound begins. Eyes rolling back into his head, he lets out a groan, as he embraces his guitar. The returning barrage of wooden splinters come, and he begins to strum on the guitar. And then, the sound begins. The strumming reverberates through the forest, breaking the silence, as the guitar begins to sound. The sonic energy twists and warps around him, calling up stone splinters from the earth. The wooden barrage is partially destroyed, but even the shards that pierce his skin almost make him moan in delight, the sound beginning.

"Don't you hear it, waterboy?"

Crock strides forward at the boy, strumming as that visage leers at him. "Don't you hear it? It's the sound of this planet. It's going to be your sound soon too. You're a messenger. A herald. A voice of something bigger than you even know. Don't you understand?" He raises his arm up, and -slams- it down at the guitar. The earth splits as he fires straight down the fresh rut, sonic energy propelling his sliding kick as he attempts to plow right into Tsinghua's feet, bringing an earsplitting howl with him as the riff carries him through.


COMBATSYS: Crock successfully hits Tsinghua with Slide Like Bleeding Razors Baby.

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Crock            1/-------/=======|=======\==-----\1         Tsinghua

And just as soon as he rises, Crock sonic slide plows through his balance as he gets a mouthful of grass. He spins around on his back- Grabbing a chunk of rock that C-rock uprooted and flinging it towards him- before the rock freezes and Tsinghua rolls past as he stands up- erupting in a flurry of controlled strikes against the object- before he releases it. The chunk getting sent to Crock with bullet-like speed.

"Stop this, you, you- Lunatic! You are insane, nothing you say makes any reasonable sense. Please, just leave me alone!" he pleads, now genuinely afraid as even his calm nature can't deal with this man's insanity.

COMBATSYS: Crock blocks Tsinghua's Dong Gen (Hu Qi).

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Crock            1/------=/=======|==-----\-------\0         Tsinghua

The rock comes right back.

The droning sound begins to fade, as Crock rises up. When the rock shoots back at him, the punk blocks with his instrument, the boulder impacting him harshly as he staggers back. Groaning, the boy pleads to him. Crock snorts a laugh. "I love it. I absolutely love it when people get so egged on when I tell them the truth. Leave you ALONE? After what you did to me? After what you did to yourself? No, no, I wanna make sure you UNDERSTAND before I go." He turns the guitar around, the body of it bent in half. It was broken, wasn't it? He tunes it a bit, and then, he begins to play.

And Tsinghua would be able to feel the pulses now.

As he strums away on it, the thudding drones begin. Waves of invisible sonic energy passes through him, under him, through the air and the earth. And then, the reverb comes back. Crock slams down, resending out the reverbs as the sonic and earth energy ebbs and flow in unison. The earth was trembling, the air was holding that hot and heavy drone. The energy was building in the air. "You understand now, waterboy? You are not you anymore. You're now like me, and you are gonna be like me from now on. You can go to your old masters or whatever the fuck you wanna daddy cum rag you back together again. But you're reborn now. You're a new you, like me." The strumming continues, as the waves of energy pass through Tsinghua again, bigger than ever before.

Coming back for Crock to strum it together even stronger.

COMBATSYS: Crock charges his next attack!

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Crock            1/----===/=======|==-----\-------\0         Tsinghua

He needs to run. This is insane.

Tsinghua's fear turns to terror, as the man's incomprehensible speech just doesn't stop- only becomes more crazed and disjointed.
But how do you run from someone that literally controls the earth beneath your feet?

With that thought, the boy tries to block out his sounds. Leaping towards the man as he retrieves his stick, throwing it towards Crock before it freezes- before leaping over and behind the man. Peforming a shoulder-strike to his back as the cane starts moving again, an attack coming from two sides with the stick trying to bop him on the head.

"I- I'm nothing like you, maniac!"

COMBATSYS: Crock interrupts Yanchi Gun from Tsinghua with Empowered You're Harmful To Minors Mister Yuck.

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Crock            0/-------/-======|=------\-------\0         Tsinghua

Earth and Sky, under the command of the mysterious punk.

Tsinghua was hurling the stick at him, as the wave of unseen sonic energy reaches back to him. As Tsinghua connects with him, as the stick comes surging by, Crock suddenly moans aloud, the passion reaching within him. "Just wait, waterboy. You're about to feel it." The ground around him craters, erupting into splintered stone and broken earth. The force stops the oncoming momentum dead.

And he begins to play.

Deftly playing the guitar, the distorted noise tears straight into the chinese boy, surging him into the air. Every note, every riff brought with it not only a blast of sonic energy straight to the boy's bones, but a tendril of stone shards from the earth. The combination of stone and sound juggles the poor young man in the air, as the esctasty of noise drives Crock to sing. "I'm gonna kill your mommas too!" He calls out, as finally, finally, the distorted noise fades. The sonic energy leaves him. And holding his guitar out in the air, he gasps, and sighs, releasing himself as well as Tsinghua from the assault.

"I was able to fully express my heart..."

His attack gets snuffed, and he gets launched straight into unconciousness by Crock's battering assault. Falling limply to the ground as the cane rolls down the hill- utterly defeated as blood keeps dripping from his wounds, his fine hanfu garb torn to shreds in many places.

As the boy lays still, at the Rocker's mercy.

COMBATSYS: Tsinghua takes no action.

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

COMBATSYS: Tsinghua can no longer fight.

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Crock            0/-------/-======|

Crock stands over the downed boy, breathing heavy as the sounds fade from his guitar. The strumming was silent now. He gives a push with his booted foot, leering down at him. "Hope someone's expecting you, waterboy. You look like you can't bleed too long by yourself. Whatever, survival of the fittest." Crock leans down, coming close to Tsinghua's ear. "But you know it now. You have the spirit of the world now too. I promise you that now. And you wanna know more, idiot?"

"Go find the priest or the demoness, waterboy."

The punk rises back up into a stand, looking down dismissively at the boy. With a snort, he hawks up a mucus-riddled ball of slime, and spits it squarely at the boy's face. "Have a drink waterboy." He sneers, as he turns around, limping away off the trail. Someone would be coming, at the sound of his rock and roll.

He'd take his chances in the wilderness.

COMBATSYS: Crock has ended the fight here.

The boy is left, thoroughly injured as someone comes over towards the commotion- Finding the unconcious Tsinghua laying in area of uprooted rock and earth, craters and fallen trees scattered about haphazardly. The boy has a brief moment of awareness, as he feels his body getting lift up. But, after that...


When he finally comes to, he is not in the woods anymore. Nor has some malicious third party captured him, no. He is safely back in his room at the Manor, his wounds bandaged and disinfected. It seems that, some kind stranger had carried him all the way back home. Across from the room, sits Sifu Chao. Having fallen asleep in a chair watching over the boy. Tsinghua rolls around, he will talk about this with his mentor later. But now, he's so very tired and heads to sleep once more. His sleep plagued by nightmares of the Rocker's disjointed- yet passionate words.

Log created on 09:37:21 02/28/2021 by Crock, and last modified on 15:28:56 02/28/2021.