kagero - 4P - West Point: The Expanse of Their Strength 1

Description: That Bastard Alan R.B. has assaulted /an entire casino,/ in Metro City, the first mission given to him as an agent of Kagero. The products of MCPD's Division 8 training program are called into action to respond! First, Carmine Kolodzik...

The Red Light Casino. You won't find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy outside of all the other places that are way worse. Really, as far as crime fronts go, the casino's not too bad. They're professional here - businesslike. Nobody gets killed unless they really work to earn it. The burly men in suits in inconspicuous places don't start trouble without the go word. Dirty money goes in - clean money comes out. Nobody questions why most people leave with almost as much money as they came in despite hours of gambling.

Because of this professional nature, when Alan R.B. strolls in - his status as an ex-associate of Rugal Bernstein very well known by now (emphasis on the ex) - everyone doesn't immediately react. Tension ratches up a notch as he, hands in his pockets, goes right up to a blackjack table, sits down, and puts his feet up. On the dealer's cards.

It's only the first disruptive thing he does, holding that pose for five minutes before an enormous man stomps up and clamps a meaty hand on Alan's electrified shoulder. He tilts his head back, eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses, and gives the thug a crazy grin.


Alan lowers his foot onto the head of the man who grabbed him, the blackjack table in disarray - along with the rest of the casino. Tapes, when reviewed later, will show what looks like a bolt of lightning bouncing erratically into people, coldcocking them all. A chorus of groans rise from the criminals there, innocents generally spared, but nobody's really hurt all that bad - some broken limbs, some mild concussions, enough to make a point. "What now, hamhock?" Alan buries his boot into the man's back, eliciting a fresh moan. "Thought you guys were safe? Thought you were all secured up?" Kick. Kick. "Haha, yeah! All that money sure helped you out, huh!" Kick. "Dumbshits!"

This is about the time that the first officer to get on the scene capable of doing a damn thing would be arriving. Lesser cops have already blockaded the entrance, but the boxer seems unconcerned. Lying on the blackjack table is a strong, vital man of middle-age, the /real/ boss of the casino. He has one black eye and holds his right arm. The blonde jumps up onto the table, and lifts him by his tie, holding his other arm up. "Hey, hey, maybe if you pay me, I won't punch you in the face. If you give me a million dollars right now, I won't punch you in the face." He punches him in the face without giving him any time - the boss now has two black eyes. "Whoops! Check out how useless that wallet is!"

Fighter crime requires fighter cops -- it's as simple as that. Carmine Kolodzik has not yet dealt with fighter crime, and what's apparently happening sounds like it'd be a good first job. He'll have backup if he needs it -- but really, ex-"R" operative or no, how tough can one boxer be?

Carmine Kolodzik is about to find out. It figures that it would be on a Wednesday; at the very least, this means that it's Lucky Tie Day. Today is the third Wednesday of the month; today's tie is Rick Hunter's Veritech. The tie is really awesome because it's basically the nose and main body of a plane; the parts of the shirt on either side of it is supposed to be the 'wings.'

It's so dorky oh my god.

Stepping into the casino firmly and flashing his badge once, Carmine says, "Police! Everyone freeze!" For an instant, Carmine Kolodzik feels like a /total badass/. It is really amazing.

This is extremely unlikely to last.

Alan technically freezes, in that he stops, arm lifted, to stare Carmine in the eyes. It's not really an issue of 'suspects', which makes this a little easy.

There are three distinct groups of people: Innocent bystanders huddled along one wall in little danger, criminals scattered all over the place in various states of pummeled, and a man with his shirt open with electricity crawling around in his skin. I WONDER WHO DID ALL THIS

Alan then looks away from Carmine to stare the boss in the eyes as he gives him one last blow to the bridge of his nose, knocking him slack in his hand, and dropping him on the table. Poker chips fly everywhere. He gives the prone form a last boot, and hops down from the table, sticking his hands in his pockets. "You're adorable," he says to Carmine. "What, you the guy nobody likes? Or are you the cocky one that comes running in because you're new and still full-a that youthful invincibility? Maaaan, you're lucky it's me, or you'd just be flying back out of here a smoking husk."

Alan saunters at Carmine, sneering, and plants a hand on his shoulder, if he lets him. The iron rings on his fingers are hard to look at - they've taken to becoming focal points for the electricity in his body now, each one about as bright as a light bulb with chi. "Fact is, I'm done here already. Well, I had some other shit planned, but it's no big deal, don't need an audience. How'sabout you take those chumps - " Alan hooks his thumb at the huddled bystanders. "-and roll on out while I put the finishing touches on shit here? Say I left through the back door, don't care."

Alan and Carmine are clearly visible to the rest of the cops through the glass doors. This excuse might not hold water.

Glancing back to the doors, Carmine shakes his head. This is ridiculous, he thinks -- do they always bargain like this? "... Not gonna' happen," Carmine says. "I mean --" For a second, his training goes right out the window. He completely forgets everything that he should be saying or doing here because, holy shit, that guy has electro-punched more or less every person in the room, usually multiple times.

The suspect is clearly violent, and moreover, he still has intent to commit further violence. Granted, it's against thugs and criminals... but if the system doesn't work for them, it doesn't work for anyone. Just because someone is a mob thug doesn't mean they aren't entitled to police protection from... other mob thugs.

Abruptly and with a little more force, Carmine says, "I'm taking you in!" It doesn't really work; it sounds exactly like what it is, which is 'Carmine attempting to avoid answering Alan's questions about him being the guy nobody likes.' It is, however, punctuated with Carmine bringing his hands up like he's holding a gun and firing three quick bolts of psionic energy straight for the boxer.

His Veritech tie flaps mightily from these tiny waves of force. Fly, Rick Hunter!!

COMBATSYS: Carmine has started a fight here.

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Carmine          0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Alan has joined the fight here.

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Alan             0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0          Carmine

COMBATSYS: Alan equips Hunting Chain.

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Alan [E]         0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0          Carmine

COMBATSYS: Alan dodges Carmine's Stray Rounds.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Alan [E]         0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0          Carmine

The bolts of energy punch straight through Alan's chest, the man freezing up. The casino is clearly visible through the three holes. A cop outside is heard to yell, "Holy shit, Kolodzik!"

From the left, Alan claps, something metallic rattling as he does so. "Niiiice quickdraw, champ!" In the space of an instant, Alan moved several yards to the side, leaving a little trail of electricity between the two points. The punctured Alan falls apart into tiny lightnings. A grey steel chain is wrapped around Alan's left hand. "If it was anyone else, maybe you'd've even lightly scratched 'em."

Absolute arrogance and absolute selfishness - that's what Carmine feels from Alan. Here is a man that feels like he is top shit, a man that looks at everything like it's already his. It's more than simple greed - it's like a gigantic, grasping hand, twisting at the world into a shape that pleases him. e taps Alan taps the toe of his boot on the ground, and pulls his hands up. "I'll be honest with you, reedy, this is workin' out just fine for me. I was givin' you a chance more than anything else, thought you might like to end the day without getting your shit pushed in." He stops, cocking his head at Carmine. "You ever /have/ your shit pushed in?" Sneering, he pulls one arm back as though he's throwing a punch, despite the distance, and swings forward.

"Shhha!" He /flickers/ across the space, swirling lightning trailing from his hand as he slams into and past Carmine, turning to face him after. "You do know who you're dealing with, right?"

COMBATSYS: Carmine fails to counter Storm Front from Alan with Undertow.

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Alan [E]         0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0          Carmine

That arrogance is disgusting... but as much as Carmine would hate to admit it, focusing on it is a little empowering. Letting that feeling work its way through his system while at the same time being tempered by Carmine's sense of justice -- it only improves his sheer ballsiness, which might inspire one or two more 'holy shit, Kolodzik' moments.

On the other hand, it also makes him overestimate himself. "I think I'm going to get through the day just fine," Carmine says, having no intention of having his shit pushed in whatsoever -- and slipping into a quick defensive stance, preparing to catch that near-teleporting blow.

Unfortunately, he doesn't move fast enough. Alan's near-teleportation speed blows through his defenses, sending him sprawling; his body smashes into a blackjack table, his shoulder blade making a sickening cracking noise. "Sshhhhhit," he groans under his breath.

"Look at you!" Alan flexes his left hand - he was given this thing to test out, and this looks like a pretty good opportunity. He swings the little bit of hanging chain through the air with a high-pitched swish. "You don't, do you? Hahaha, well, guess that's your problem." He lashes the chain again, this time in Carmine's general direction. Nothing happens, and Alan frowns at it.

With a sharp movement, he brings it up, smashing it into his own forehead. Swinging it at Carmine again, the chain lashes out, stretching several feet without end to slam roughly against Carmine's body. "There we go! Got the bugs out, I guess." With his free hand, Alan pulls a black-and-gold cigarette from behind his ear, calmly spitting a spark on it to light it as he keeps battering Carmine with his other hand. He puffs a cloud of smoke. "Anyway, if it makes you feel any better, you'll probably only have to be in the hospital for like a day. Tryin' to make a point here, y'know?"

COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Carmine with Hunting Chain.

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Alan [E]         0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0          Carmine

Carmine knows 'who he's dealing with,' in the immediate sense, but does not have an... /appreciation/ for who he's dealing with. He does have an appreciation for the ass-whooping he's getting, though. Gradually pulling himself back to his feet as Alan lashes the chain out once, then again, Carmine wonders for a second what the Hell he's doing.

Then he gets the shit beat out of him with a long, lashing chain. Going tumbling right back into the table, Carmine winces as it breaks under his lanky body this time. "D... dammit," he groans, not even answering Alan; Alan has the upper hand on him to such an extent that he can't even really 'converse' about the ass-whooping he's getting.

Not thinking very clearly, Carmine grabs the wreckage of the table and gives it a good, forceful hurl at Alan. If he were in a better frame of mind, he might use this opportunity to re-center himself... but he's a little over-bludgeoned for the moment.

COMBATSYS: Alan dodges Carmine's Huge Thrown Object.

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Alan [E]         0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0          Carmine

The 'boss' sloughs off the blackjack table with a groan as Carmine throws it, just as the chain retracts back to Alan's hand. He makes no motion to directly dodge - instead, the chain lashes out again, coiling around the table, wrapping it again and again - there's no goddamn way the chain is this long - before pulling taut. The table shatters into flinders, leaving two large pieces to hit to either side of Alan as he's bathed in splinters. The chain reels back in with a slight motion, and the boxer whistles. "I love it."

He brushes splinters off his shirt and deliciously cut chest, swipes a hand through his air, and adjusts his sunglasses. The light flashes off them, and he gives Carmine a dangerous grin before stepping up to him, reaching down to grab him by the tie and haul him closer, off-balance. "I guess you are the new guy, huh? Poor bastard, they're letting you get roughed up! What, are you the only chump in MCPD that can lift fists?" He smacks Carmine full in the face with the chain hand, and shoves him away.

At that moment, the cops outside put floodlights on, and it does little than outline Alan in striking relief as he tucks his thumbs in his pockets, a completely relaxed, unguarded stance. "Hey," he says suddenly, pointing down at Carmine's chest. "What the fuck /is/ that thing, anyway?" Right at Carmine's tie.

COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Carmine with Light Punch.
~~ Alluring Hit! ~~

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Alan [E]         0/-------/----===|=======\====---\1          Carmine

Carmine is losing this fight. He is definitely smart enough to know it. He needs to make it worthwhile to lose, though -- he sure as Hell can't take this guy down, but he can at least do something for it. Maybe it's a little of Alan's world-reshaping urge that compels him to keep going even when he knows that Sho or the Sergeant would be better suited. He /should/ run...

... but instead, he lets himself get smashed across the face with a chain-wrapped hand, staggering back as his nose ruptures and bleeds fairly profusely. As the floodlights shine down on Alan, Carmine finally answers him. "... we've got a few," he forces out, slipping back into stance.

This time, he /does/ take the time to re-center himself, picking through the fight in his head, trying to feel out Alan's style as much as he has his grasping personality. Looking down at his tie, he adds, "... what, you never saw Robotech?" as if it explains everything.

COMBATSYS: Carmine calculates his next move.

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Alan [E]         0/-------/----===|=======\====---\1          Carmine

Alan stares at Carmine.

The moment stretches through time, a single second extending to fill a minute, the minute flowing into eternity. The world crumbles and is remade, the sun dies and is reborn, ten thousand new ages stretch across of all existence.

It's an awkward moment.

Alan ends it by flickering forward at Carmine, crossing the already-small distance in an eyeblink, head-first. He doesn't bother to leave an afterimage, because that's a defensive technique, and a headbutt is an offensive one. "So that makes you the quick, on-point one! First responder! God damn, I always kept outta Metro when I was doing my deals because I figured this city was full of badasses, WELL LOOK AT THE GUY WHO WAS WRONG!"

COMBATSYS: Carmine counters Headbutt from Alan with Mission Accomplished.

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Alan [E]         0/-------/=======|-------\-------\0          Carmine

One good hit. He can soften him up if he can get one good hit in, one solid hit -- and then Sho or Miracle can put him down nice and clean. Neatening his stance again, Carmine waits for Alan to close the gap wordlessly -- and when he does, he's ready.

Grabbing Alan by the throat, Carmine quickly turns and smashes his body into the ground, using all of that immense momentum that had been intended for his face. Pivoting on a foot, Carmine begins to whirl his body around once, twice, thrice, dragging Alan along by his head and neck, using his psychic talent to speed the spins up each time.

Then he lets go. All that momentum, of course, sticks with Alan... and he goes sailing for one of the walls of the casino, probably leaving a pretty severe crack in it. Carmine, for his part, feels his body start to sag from exhaustion... and he knows that wasn't enough to put Alan down.

"You always send the new guy in first," Carmine finally admits. "They don't..." Panting, he pauses for a moment, staggering back. Eventually, though, he finishes, "... learn any other way."

Alan slams hard into the wall, and sticks for a moment before he smoothly pulls himself away, shaking plaster from his back. "Alright, guess you got a /little/ somethin'." He takes off his sunglasses, blows dust off them, and settles them back on his face, letting his arms go limp. "But now I'm thinking, yeah, you're right. There'll be some more after you. Soooo."

Alan completely relaxes. "I'll just make this quick. Finish you off, get to the rest of what I wanted to do." As his muscles loosen, the chi flowing through his body intensifies, electricity whirling around his body in a corona, smaller yellow shockwaves spreading from his feet. His shirt flaps open wildly, revealing the angry red scar on his left side where he was impaled, and then sealed it with lightning (see Jinchuu II, Kula's Attack!, true believers! -Stan the Man).

COMBATSYS: Alan gathers his will.

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Alan [E]         1/----===/=======|-------\-------\0          Carmine

Alan's moment spent charging up is a moment for Carmine to hit him with something punishing -- a moment he has no intention of wasting. But he knows how this goes -- he's watched the tapes, he knows what it means when someone starts charging like this. Either they open up immediately with something huge... or they try to plow through an incoming attack with something big. Usually it's bad news.

But sometimes it blows up in their face, and that's something Carmine thinks he can ... well, not count on, but bet on, perhaps. Marshaling some of his strength, Carmine runs in, hoping his gut feeling about how Alan approaches things is right... and tries for a simple, quick grab-and-plant. It's telegraphed and inelegant, and someone like Alan can probably rip clean through it -- but maybe that's what Kolodzik wants. Maybe that's all part of the plan -- maybe he's just working the numbers.

COMBATSYS: Alan blocks Carmine's Strong Throw.

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Alan [E]         1/--=====/=======|=------\-------\0          Carmine

Alan seems completely boneless as Carmine lifts him up, because when he relaxes, he /relaxes./ He is so boneless that he weathers Carmine's slam in much the same way that a drunk survives a car crash, splaying against the ground unconcernedly. "Whooo, easy there, slugger!"

Two fingers poke into Carmine's stomach.

"Wouldn't want to get too close."

The electricity spirals down into Alan's arms, pooling into crackling orbs in the palm of either hand. Unlike Carmine, Alan doesn't really think while he fights, reacting moment to moment. This is the closest thing that he ever really has to a plan, letting Carmine get in as close as he wants for... this.

He snaps the middle finger and thumb of both hands, twice, four crackling bolts of lightning slamming into Carmine at point-blank range, the tremendous peal of noise shattering drinking glasses nearby and shaking the entire casino. The lights all flicker and a few slot machines freak out. "THUNDER STORM!"

COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Carmine with Thunder Storm.

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Alan [E]         0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0          Carmine

Carmine was not expecting that to backfire in a manner that was quite so... explosive. Of course, right now, Carmine really isn't expecting anything, because an amount of lightning-based chi best measured using the highly technical measurement of "shit-ton" has just been disgorged into his chest by Alan's completely ridiculous maneuver.

Carmine's body does not move; this is electricity, not raw concussive force. He staggers back the slightest bit in near-complete agony... and then his body, mercifully, decides that it has had way more than enough of /this/, thank you very much, and promptly collapses in a heap.

Here's hoping the MCPD has someone a little tougher or a little faster than Carmine "Novice" Kolodzik for round two.

COMBATSYS: Carmine takes no action.

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Alan [E]         0/-------/--=====|

COMBATSYS: Carmine can no longer fight.

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Alan [E]         0/-------/--=====|

Alan pulls himself out from under Carmine, shoving the young cop aside, and takes a moment to put himself back together - straightening the shirt, smoothing his pants, fixing his hair which didn't actually need to be fixed. He spits the stub of his cigarette to the ground, and then picks up Carmine under the armpits, waving to the cop blockade as he drags him over to the bystanders, dumping him in the lap of a particularly... bosomy woman in the kind of dress that really is asking for it. "There ya go, you're the softest one here that ain't a fat chick -" He points at a bonafide fat chick. "-like you, stop eating so much, you won't have to buy so many chairs-" Back to the titty woman. "- so just go ahead and cradle this cop for a while. He totally just /tried/ to help, at least, don'tcha think you owe him?"

Soon, someone else'll show up. In the meantime, he starts moving among the downed criminals, getting all the paper money off their person, throwing it in a heap in the middle of the casino floor.

COMBATSYS: Alan drops his guard to recover.

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Alan [E]         0/-------/--=====|

COMBATSYS: Alan takes no action.

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Alan [E]         0/-------/--=====|

Log created on 19:29:01 12/15/2010 by Alan, and last modified on 23:34:29 12/15/2010.