KOV Round Two: Street Samurai vs Stryke

The Clock Tower

KOV Tournament Round Two, the Stage. It is a stone clock tower stated to be located at the corner of a quiet temple outside the edge of an unnamed town. The stage is placed on the top tier, with the glass clock and the inside mechanism serving as background. It is said The Ghost of the Man who designed the clock visits this place ever since it was constructed since it's the only place which reminds him of the passage of time, having lost his sense of time over the course of his eternal suffering as a ghost. The legend behind the hunted clock tower dictates that the designer died in a freak accident during the construction of his masterpiece, meaning he never truly was able to see his great work finished. Well… Not with his earthly eyes at any rate. Something it seems is so important to a person’s very existence that even in death the cosmos finds a way to endure. The clock tower itself is in a location of at the very least mild interest as well. Towards the middle of a nameless town, stands this architectural masterwork of motorized cogs and gears, designed for the soul purpose of measuring temporal science, the concepts of time as it pertains to all mortal things.A central focal point for the entire community of this nameless town as it looms over everything else, reaching up high towards the heavens above.

The Samurai

Stoically sitting under the minute hand of the clock towers face Mack readies himself for his next opponent.He is disappointed greatly that his last one never made an appearance at all, he simply waited fearlessly prepared for whomever would dare challenge him in combat, but it never happened. A wretched scowl works its way onto the warriors face as he makes memory of the last round. A beautiful place to fight a battle the likes of which would not soon be forgotten is all he had hoped for. His hopes were denied.

“Damn.” Mack mumbles *in Japanese* under his breath a curse from the frustration of waiting… Of not knowing if he would be let down yet again. He was also wondering if anyone would give him a proper challenge.The Street Samurai is what Mack is called by reputation, fighting epic gang wars on the streets of Japan for many years saw to that.Years of constant battle, fight after fight, endless bloodshed, turned Mack into a very hard man. Mack is hard in many ways; he is hard in spirit, in body, in mind, in drink, and in conversation. Mack is a man of few words to say the least he doesn’t like to jar on about nonsense, he is a man of action. He believes that actions speak louder than words, and that anyone with a warrior’s spirit understands the seriousness of silence.

Mack is dressed in a custom tailor made three piece suit.The suit is black, the vest is black, the shoes are black, and his dress shirt is white. He is not wearing any tie because he finds them horribly uncomfortable. The top button of his shirt is undone, and so are all three of his jackets buttons.The former Yakuza 4th of the Tojo Clan sits in true fashion of any Samurai. He is knelt down on both knees in order to meditate comfortably. Building his inner Qi for the battle ahead as he always does, knowing that if he didn’t he wouldn’t be showing his opponents proper respect. Mack always wants to be at his very best, physically, mentally, and spiritually before every battle.

Muichimonji

All that Mack carries with him into any battle is his legendary Katana Muichimonji. This sword was crafted in ancient times by a legendary maker of Samurai swords, the material used to create this blade was taken from a chunk of a meteorite that crash landed on Earth thousands of years ago. It is made from an alien alloy that is stronger than any steel and can cut cleanly through almost anything; the blade also gives off a high pitched resonance, the likes of which you would get from a dog whistle.The harder the blade is struck the louder the chime.Humans can hear the chime when the blade is just simply unsheathed however, when the blade is at rest it makes a slight harmonic hum that can be heard by human ears. It also glows bright blue with Qi energy, the more that Mack mediates the more powerful Muchimonji’s attacks will become.

The man also likes to drink

Okay when I said that Mack only carries his sword I may have been forgetting the fact that he is also master of drunken style martial science and he always has a few drinking gourds on hand, full of Saki or Soju. He loves plum wine and will drink a decent amount of booze before every conflict he wages in. Mack believes that he gains power from the fermented grains, barley, and or sweet-potato wine as the case may be. Sweet-potato being his favorite. Mack is at the present time however wondering if he maybe had a little too much to drink, due to the fact that he thinks he sees the ghost of a man from olden times watching him from the top of a nearby rafter. He shakes his head in disbelief, thinking it must surely be the booze.

The floors creaked with every step. The eerie noise could pierce through the heart of anyone fearful of adventure; for Alex, it was just a step closer to present himself to his foe.

One week had elapsed since the first round of the tournament, he had faced a cyborg with remarkable abilities and usage of weaponry, but the swordsman had emerged victorious. The second round took place in a clock tower within an empty town. The tower could be considered the eighth wonder of the world with its design and colossal structure, but perhaps the legend of the ghost was what kept people away. Alex didn't care, he was here to fight and move forward.

Tick.

Tock.

Tick!

Tock!

The clocked ticked louder and louder with each step, echoing and vibrating throughout the tower. Alex's teeth gritted as he stopped to rest. His right leg was bandaged underneath his pants. His former opponent had slashed him vertically across his thigh. At the time, the adrenaline from the fight kept him from thinking about it; one week later and he's still feeling the after effects. A deep breath was all it took for the swordsman to keep on going.

Up the eerie sounding stairs he went and the sound of gears grinding against each other was deafening. Alex looked to his right and gazed through the glass face of the clock. The town was empty. It was sad really, the world from this tower was hopeless... there was nothing.

A faint scent of alcohol caught Alex's nose as he turned away from the glass face and saw his opponent on his knees with his back straight. The swordsman walked closer as he observed the man with his eyes closed. Meditation? Alex was not to begin attacking without notice.

"I'm here." He spoke monotonously, "May the best fighter win."

Stryke fell to the floor as the swordsman ran toward the kneeling man, dragging his weapon across the floor. Blue kinetic energy swirled around his sword as he readied for the attack. A vertical swipe from the wooden floor to the air would launch a wave of blue energy toward Alex's foe. The wave would increase with each passing second and cut anything in its path, similar to the attack the swordsman made in the first round. The wood would splinter and break apart and the rotating gears high up would receive the same treatment if it were to spread that far. Alex aimed for his foe's body, the growing energy would cut him ihalf or at least injure him, depending on his durability. A simple attack allowed Alex to observe what his opponent's capabilities were with this attack

Like a rock Mack sits in place waiting inside the echoing temporal limitless bliss, of the clock tower. He understands this place and he respects its testament. A lone wolf breathes, and takes in the incoming thunder. He is not moved by it and he is not if anything remorseful about the outcome of the aftermath.

"Kinetic?" Mack mutters under his breath as a smile crosses his lips. Muichimonji is completetly immune to the effects of Kinetic energy, and blocks the effects of any energy based attack to cause any harm to Mack himself. He simply holds his sword out at a 90 degree angle as a shield of Qi energy blocks and soaks the attack outright.

Then Mack takes another drink of his Saki, before gathering himself upright and retaking his footing rising to his feet. Once his feet are planted firmly on solid ground Mack decides to greet his foe with a strike that causes swirling energy to attack the very ground that comes from underneath ones footing. Making it as if the man whom had just charged him outright, was standing on shifting plates, as he follows that up with a kick to the chin.

However the Kinetic attack was not stopped outright, as it did follow through and rend the foundation of the gears and mechanics that lingered in the background of Macks person. Cogs and gears unhinge and drop crashing through the very platform that the fighters now use for their own purposes. That of a warrior. He is just able to slip past the massive weight as it comes crashing down, splintering wood and bending beams of iron.

The Street Samurai in a rolling tumble pops back up to his feet, before taking yet another drink from his drinking gourd. He wipes the excess liquid from his lips, before smirking a charming grin and chuckling to himself. "Attacking a man while he is in a meditation... Not very honorable."

He was warned, but he didn't move. For sure he heard the cracking wood splintering apart, but he didn't move. Certainly he would have opened his eyes to see the attack, but it didn't open. It was all slow in Alex's eyes. He could see every little piece of the floor breaking apart slowly, his pace behind the attack going so slowly when in reality he was running. But the man in front of him only smiled after his lips made slight movements.

From what seemed an eternity in Alex's eyes became a flash. A sword seemingly appeared out of nowhere and absorbed the attack. His foe, a man who seemed to be in his thirties, gets up and begins to drink from a traditional saki bottle. He was drinking in a fight? Was he this confident? Those very questions circulated throughout Alex's mind. Although amazed by the action, the swordsman remained cold in expression.

Alex continued to charge toward his foe with his weapon at hand, he was preparing for a strike aiming for the abdomen of the samurai, but he was rash in his decision. His foe gracefully swung his sword, sending a spiraling wave of energy toward the ground. With every step the floor boards gave away. Alex's right foot fell through the floor and a kick to the chin made Alex fall backwards, taking his foot out of the hole. Stryke was still at hand, his habit of never letting go of his weapon proved useful.

The emotionless warrior opened his eyes at the sound of gears and cogs breaking and creaking apart. Massive pieces of metal fell as Alex instantly rolled over to evade being crushed. The Lou's crash beside him made him contemplate about the brash moves.

"Attacking a man while he is in a meditation... Not very honorable."

Again, alcohol. The smell was strong as it lingered in the air. Alex got up as he faced the samurai' giving him the cold facial expression.

"I gave you a notice of my presence, I didn't mean to offend you."

Metal creaked once more from high above as a large gear fell, breaking chains and the smaller cogs. The swordsman firmly grasped his sword as he looked up. With a swift motion Alex struck the metal gear with stryke, having the blade's edge lodged into the gear and swung the sword like a baseball bat. His muscles strained as the motion had to be precise with all that weight. The large gear would fly toward the samurai, flipping in mid-air like a coin. Alex would then grab a broken chain from the ground and twirl it, absorbing the kinetic energy. The chain would glow blue and Alex launched himself toward the samurai once again, leaping over the abyss-like hole. The swordsman would whip the glowing blue chain and grab him and fling him toward the glass face of the clock.

But in the midst of the planned attack, Alex heard a very tuneful sound.

"Cuckoo."

Memories wash over the cyborg in this place and in this time. Mack stands and faces his foe with defiant conviction, this man holding a sword glowing bright and blue with kinetic energy.

To haunt his days, he has played these games, has chose his way to escape his fate. Mack's age has passed and has not been kind, letting time rewind his cybernetic eyes analyze the situation.

This man seems hellbent on bringing down the fighting stage, by breaking this timeless piece of archetecture. The Samurai has to stand and watch in utter dread, now however he knows his eyes were not playing tricks on him. He sees the ghost o the designer, his own eyes and face seem to be filled with a look of anger and pain. Mack now knows that this man is in fact no longer among the living and that he is also very upset from the sight of watching his creation being destroyed. The man seems to be screaming out in horror. "Stop! Please stop!" But due to his current state of being, there is no sound. Only shadows and glimpses of memories.

"I don't look the way the average Samurai looks, I'll admit I've taken shit I never should have took. You can read a different tale in a lot of different scrolls, but even then you won't really know... How it was a long time ago." His speech is crystal clear and serious beyond any doubt. "Don't ask me about the years I spent out in the rain, about the ones I spent in love, or the ones I spent insane. And don't ask me who I gave my seat to on the train of life, I think you already know. I told you that a long time ago." Mack seems to be talking to his past in this place, the sight of the ghost makes him think about his own shadows. He takes yet another drink of Saki from his drinking gourd, before impact.

Alex is able to shift the element of gravity and kenetic force, multiplied by the massive weight of the falling gear. It strikes true, slamming Mack's body into the clocks face, breaking out the glass. And sending the gear soaring down to great the empty city streets located far below. The Samurai however is able to hold on to a broken beam and regathering himself leap back inside the clock tower. His body is thrashed by the impact, but the nanobots that make up over 70% of his body, are already hard at work repairing the damage done.

"You're going to have to do better then that!" Mack says as he leaps off his perch, with a mighty swing of his own sword. Using a technique that uses Qi energy to cause the targets body to relive old trauma. The pain of old wounds comes rushing back fresh and new. A funnel-cloud of this Qi energy colored purple with black streaks comes racing towards Alex, in the form of a wave that starts off small but expands and fans out as it reaches out towards him. Then Mack attempts to strike Alex in the side of the neck with his open palm, using a nerve strike that if successful would render most men unconscience.

Every thing became slow once again in Alex's eyes. His leap appeared graceful and precise, the form was excellent, and his attack's success was to be determined. In front of him, the gear flipped as it made its way to the samurai. For a split second as the flipping gear was in a horizontal position, the swordsman's crystal blue eyes made contact with the samurai's. For that split second he was mouthing something, for another flip and another second, his foe continued mouthing something else before he sipped his saki once more.

Time fell back into place in the swordsman's mind as the gear smashed through the face of the clock, taking his opponent with him. Broken glass, broken floor, broken gears, the tower itself was a mess. Broken beams were protruding out of the tower from the impact and glass continued to fall, cutting through the air as it shattered into dust as it hit the pavement far below.

Boom!

Alex immediately stopped as he skidded across where the samurai used to kneel. The chain was still glowing blue with energy. The swordsman crept closer and closer of the impacted area to see if the the samurai had survived. He clutched his sword and dragged the glowing chain across the wood. Alex's eyes fixated toward the bottom half of the impacted region of the clock's face; his gut told him the battle was far from over.

The samurai leapt back into the tower. His body was evidently affected by the gear, but his wounds fizzled as it slowly regenerated.

"You're going to have to do better then that!"

His foe sent a funnel of energy toward Alex with a swing of his sword. The purple like energy was unique to the swordsman, never had he seen such energy or power. Similar to his wave, the funnel widened as it closed in on Alex, consuming him with the energy.

His eyes bulged out in pain. His right thigh began to bleed as the warm liquid ran down his leg. His arms began to ache, his back began to pinch. All of those injuries were familiar. With every moment of pain, the swordsman had a flash back to each moment the injury occurred. Alex would normally mask the pain, but this was all individual. Like a tsunami crashing upon an island, all the pain came in one powerful wave.

Alex let out a scream. His eyes shifted as he caught his opponent making a move toward his neck. He quickly lifted his arm for a block. Both forearms met with great strength. The swordsman's eyes locked with the samurai's, revealing a stern expression.

"Aaaaaaghhhhh!"

Alex would push his arm against his foe's in order to push off the force being put on. The swordsman transferred the energy from the chain to his body. Alex would then aim to whip the samurai's leg with the chain, wrapping around it and swing his opponent through the hole. If successful the swordsman would follow through with a blue aura surrounding him. Using the kinetic energy, he would increase the speed of the fall and aim to slash the swordsman with stryke multiple times, utilizing only his enhanced strength as an extra force behind the blows.

Anger fairies are swimming in the cyborgs mind, he is seeing red and he has been drinking "Mugi"... The nerve strike is intercepted by his opponents own forearm, causing the intended strike to be effectively blocked. However the Samurai is quick to process actions while locked in the thralls of combat. His nervous system creates a strong pulse as the nanobots who are still working hard to regain complete control of Mack's regeneration, are ultra defensive at the moment. They have protection measures in place, and as Mack's eyes sense the engulfed in energy chain that is grasped in Alex's other hand, which reading by his body language he intends to strike the cyborg yet again. They sense the attack and make appropriate counter measures, namely sending a massive electrical charge throughout Macks nervous system. The charge erupts from Macks hand that is currently in contact with Alex's own forearm. The charge is large enough to drop an angry elephant, and the nanobots hope that it is enough to render the mans arm useless for at least a short while.

The once proud clock tower now stands in ruin, from the effects of this battle. The spirit of the designer has also seemed to leave this place, it is now just as dead as the city that surrounds it. A tragic end to a timeless romance between a man and his creation, but all things eventually come to an end. All things in life come from either positive or negative furies, and when these furies become unbalanced, that is when reality becomes unbalanced as well, that is when the world is forever changed, like it has been this day.

After the charge is sent, Macks own reflexes take over as he intuitively leaps off the ground in response to the possible chain strike, his vertical leap is superhuman in any case and he rockets upwards towards the summit of the clock towers interior. And as the Samurai is suspended in mid air, he removes his dress shirt as well as his jacket, revealing his skin. The skin of an ex Yakuza, covered in tattoos that have great meaning behind them. The centerpiece located on Mack's entire back is the rendering of a Samurai of old, dressed in the traditional armors of a Samurai and carrying a Katana.

Their is a chill in the wind of the evening sky, a storm is settling into this city, coming from the north-west. There is a light mist which is being carried by these winds and they feel cool and refreshing on Macks bare skin. He still senses the beauty of this place, the beauty of this moment, the beauty of this battle, and even that of the inner beauty of his opponent. There is something to be honored in a kindred spirit being met on the battlefield, it is a pity that the Samurai feels he must end it now.

As the discarded now tattered from the gear clothes skater to the four winds, Mack takes aim at this man once more with Muichimonji in hand. The attack is not one of Qi energy, it is simply a series of complex swings. Slicing at angles that are proven effective against human opponents because they are designed to bypass the way any human body can move in order to avoid them. The slices are made with the intent of only rendering his opponent unable to continue the fight, not meant to be fatal however. Mack has absolutely no wish to kill this man, as he feels a common bond to his warrior spirit."Hykatta!" Mack roars a battle cry as he attempts his attacks.

His fist clenched tightly, his teeth gritted with pain. A shock of electricity was sent from the samurai's body. Alex had planned out an attack, but the moment that chain twitched, the samurai reacted swiftly. Alex had to acknowledge the counter; his foe was precise and observant, using any movement to his advantage. But perhaps he underestimated the swordsman.

Alex did the exact maneuver to combat the cyborg in the previous round, he absorbed the electrical energy and converted it to kinetic energy and used that to block off any further damage. The constant cycle of absorption and redirection took la toll on Alex. The amount of watts generated from this charge was extreme. For the first second, a tear dropped from the swordsman's eye. For the second he gritted his teeth. For the third, his arm began to feel numb. The blue aura of kinetic energy was growing around him but his arm was losing its feeling. The chain slipped through his fingers like sand.

Immediately the samurai leaps high into the air, hanging there for a small moment; a small moment indicating the climax was nearing. For that small moment, Alex glanced what remained in the clock tower. The was nothing left to it. Gears and cogs had fallen, the glass face which revealed a hopeless world was shattered. For this small moment, it seemed as if time had stopped for Alex to realize how much damage these two warriors had done battling each other inside a beautiful clock tower.

The samurai remained suspended in the air for a short time as he ripped off the clothing on his upper body, revealing his chiseled physique and tattoos that covered his entire upper body. A chilling breeze softly brushed against Alex's face; his arm still a bit numb but his body with an aura reminiscent of a blue flame surrounding his body. Both men were warriors fighting until a victor was reached. Each man had a goal and his own set of skills. The Samurai charged toward Alex with his long sword as he let out a cry.

"Hykatta!"

Alex smiled, breaking his emotionless mask once more. The swordsman rocketed toward his foe using his energy. The aura leaving a light blue trail behind him as he charged toward the samurai in the air. He manipulated his energy to be away from stryke as he remembered the capability of energy absorption the samurai's sword had.

Clingclingclingclingclingcling!

Swords danced with one another as both men were falling from the sky. Alex's foe utilized his sword very well, targeting parts of the swordsman's body that a normal warrior would not have been able to block. Sending his energy toward his working arm, Alex increased the speed and strength of his movement but yet not sending that very energy toward the sword.

Alex slowly moved his numb fingers, perhaps a distraction toward the observant warrior. The swordsman would have two figures emerge from the blue aura. Two large falcons would form from his energy and Alex would manipulate it toward the blind spot and the back of the warrior. As that was being done a third strike would erupt from his chest, breaking through his coat and aim it toward the torso of his foe. In case the sword absorbs his energy, there was room for a series of precise strikes; the same exact series of strikes the samurai attempted to do on the swordsman.

A view from within a warrior soul...

Perhaps it is because in order to simply survive I had to remain so much more in tune with the inner workings of my body, or perhaps it was my Oda Nobunga training, but whatever the reason. I find that I am more apt than the average person to understand the subtle clues offered to me by my unconscious soul. So many things were revealed to ourselves without ever realizing they even existed.

The lightness of my step when I departed the platform of the inner sanctum of the clock tower, for example, weather in guise of the Samurai or of that of the Yakuza, buoyed me; I felt as if I could leap hundreds of feet off the ground. With the road straight before me to greatness, the hopes of seeing this man, my enemy, I know not his name, filtered throughout my being and lifted my spirit.

Consciously, I wasn't even thinking about such things, Consciously, I told myself, berated myself, that the entire journey was no more than procrastination. The real road to greatness was within my own soul, but I was deliberately a long way from there.

But despite my pangs of guilt, I felt that buoyancy clearly and acutely, a sense of excitement, and not just because I had successfully deflected and delayed facing my inner most self. Nay, on this road to the crown, I felt as if I was moving forward on my journey, as if I was betraying my commonsense, my oneness. My road seemed to be leading me to the man who I had become, not the man I had yet to be.

I ponder these many angles, my mind jumbles and shakes and darts in directions unasked for. And to all of them, I have no true answers, I recognize, for I will not know how I feel about my inner most self, until I have met him. I will not know his answers to my concerns until he has explained them. I will not know the effect upon the legacy of oneness until long has past, I am sure.

A moment captured in fury...

Mack hovered beyond the reaches of intercepting as he danced a warriors dance with a gifted swordsmen. The clanking of steel off steel echoes throughout the cold empty reaches of the nameless city below. The cyborg can feel a pressure building within his foes body, the same spiritual pressure he felt with the first strike... Kinetic energy, infused, manipulated, chaotic... Mack prepares for anything, his senses go primal, causing the Samurai to perceive even the most subtle details with superhuman acuteness. His eyes can see the energy building up in the swordsmen, it tells him that he must act now... So the Samurai clears his mind of all outside influences, as his spirit drifts into a direct channel of Qi energy. Mack fills Muichimonji with his own personal inner Qi... Holding firm to it for the right moment to send it forward. Through this technique the Street Samurai can effectively transport himself through space and time, channeling his body of flesh and nanobots, into Qi and filtering it outwards.

There is a large burst of energy from the swordsmen, they take the form of two large falcons that seemingly are under their creators complete mastery, he moves them with his very will. A beautiful attack, and Mack feels that there is more yet to come. The cyborg activates his own mastery over Qi, as his body filters into pure life energy and filters out around his enemy in several thin beams of gold glowing light. As the energy beams shoot outwards they bend around the swordsmen, coming back together as one behind him. A moment later, and the Samurai is reformed to his physical form. He is holding Muichimonji in his hands still, and he strikes at the back of the mans head with all his might. Macks movements are liquid and hypnotic, traveling at superhuman speeds. He intends to hit the mans head with the bottom of Muichimonji's hilt however not its blade. He still does not wish to kill this warrior, only defeat him honorably in combat.

The counter does not go off without a heavy price however, Mack had to use up all of his remaining Qi in order to preform such an amazing feat. He is feeling totally drained, and if this attack does not pay off, he will surely be hard pressed to avoid another attack like that. His system is overloaded from the act of the repairs and his spirit jumping Qi technique, pushed him over the edge. His body is drenched in sweat, and he is very thirsty for his Saki, which he dares not draw from at such a serious moment.