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the flojo 
Flojo Murasame
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(2/22/06 7:28 pm)
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Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
(OOC: The purpose of this thread is to show where my character was and what he was doing while I was not RPing on this board.)

Flojo sat calmly in the park, sipping a bottle of water from time to time. He was wearing a Chinese suit and trying to fit in. He'd never been to Hong Kong before, and traditional dress wasn't too popular here, as it often was in other parts of China. In any case, ha couldn't fit in too well here. Although he was half-Japanese and a quarter Chinese, he didn't really look like an oriental, and his suit drew some funny looks, since he was a westerner.

He sat back and sighed. He still had no idea what the hell he was doing here. A note in his dorm room back at Manga High School had told him to be at a certain restaurant in Pittsburgh, where he got a message to go to New York, then one for Tokyo. Now he was in Hong Kong, and God only knew where he was going next. Supposedly this was the end of his insane trip, and he would get his information here. He pulled the somewhat wrinkled note from his pocket and read its clear, concise Japanese writing again:

Good afternoon, Murasame-san. I believe that you have been searching very hard at this school of yours for the person who ruined your hometown. I know where you can find him. Meet me at theFlying Dutchman restaurant in Pittsburgh this Friday at one o'clock. I'll be waiting.

The restaurant in question had sucked on top of it, adding further insult to injury. In fact, the food had made him rather sick that night. He crumpled up the message and threw it over his shoulder onto the grass. No sense in keeping it, anyway.

Moments later, he felt a slight pressure in his pocket. He spun around, thinking it might be a pickpocket, when he realized he didn't sense anything. There was no one around. A passing pair of joggers gave him funny looks as they went by, which he countered with a cold flat stare, causing them to pick up their pace significantly.

Flojo reached into his pocket, and felt a piece of paper there. He pulled it out and unfolded it.

Follow the black trenchcoat. Bench on your right.

He glanced right in time to see a man in a black trenchcoat stand up off the next bench, stretch and walk off down the park's path with a newspaper under his arm. Flojo stuck the paper back into his pocket and began following, at a safe distance, so he would have a chance to react in case the guy's intentions weren't all that honorable.

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Edited by: the flojo  at: 2/27/06 5:55 pm
the flojo 
Flojo Murasame
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(2/22/06 7:30 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown!
He summed the guy up in his mind as he followed him through the park. Pretty tall, at about six feet. Blonde-haired caucasian. Wearing a pretty nice English-style suit under his trenchcoat. He looked like your average Hong-Kong businessman. Except Flojo couldn't sense any chi. This guy had to be supressing it. Not many people could do that. Flojo certainly couldn't. That made this man dangerous by default.

They reached the end of the park and crossed a busy street, heading away from the park. Flojo kept following the man, keeping an eye on everything around them, ready to fight at a moment's notice, should the need arise. They walked on for another half hour, and Flojo began to see a gradual change in the buildings around them. They were no longer in the nice parts of Hong Kong. They were heading toward the more slummy areas, and that was never a good sign.

After another ten minutes of walking, the man turned around at the mouth of an alley and gestured for Flojo to enter. This he did, with one eye on the man, and a lump of ki in his arm, ready to form into a katana for self-defense. He walked into the alley until he reached the wall. Flojo wasn't stupid, and spun around. The man was right behind him, only inches away. There had been a rain the night before, and the alley was wet. How had he followed so quickly without making any noise.

"You've grown up, Flojo," the man said calmly in a strong British accent, as he took off his jacket and hung it on the back of a chair next to Flojo. Flojo wondered if the chair had been there before. He didn't think so.

"...have we met?" Flojo inquired, backing slowly away from the seat until his legs bumped into something. He turned around to find another chair.

"Have a seat, and we'll talk. Something to drink?" Flojo turned to face the man again, and bumped into a table that now stretched between the two chairs, sitting on it were a glass and what appeared to be a bottle of mineral water. What the hell is going on here? Flojo thought, sitting down slowly.

"No thanks," Flojo answered, calmly stretching his arms out on the table, giving a show of being at ease, while at the same time knowing that it probably wasn't working, "you wanted to talk. Let's talk."

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the flojo 
Flojo Murasame
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(2/22/06 7:34 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown!
"Straight to business, eh, Flojo?" the man said, his icy blue eyes gleaming with mirth as he opened the bottle, poured himself a glass of water and took a sip, "first, I suppose I must introduce myself, although I suppose it is rude of me to wait until our second meeting to do so. I am John Clay."

"Second time? I've never met you, Mr. Clay," Flojo replied, calmly pumping more ki into his hand. He might need to blast this guy real fast, and wanted to be ready.

"Yes, you have. Although, the last time you were trying to kill me, although you probably don't remember that. Of course, that was and understandable reaction, considering the fact that I'd killed your parents and layed waste to the pathetic little village you called home only moments before," he replied calmly taking another sip of mineral water.

Flojo snapped. A kiai ripped itself loose from his throat as a blast of his energy erupted from his hand, splitting the table in half and hitting Clay's chair, where he had been only a moment before. Suddenly, Clay was in front of him. Flojo threw a side kick that Clay easily caught and countered with a throw into the alley wall, cracking the stone. Flojo fell to the ground and rolled, his back aching with a horrible pain.

A ki katana appeared in his hand instantly as he ran toward Clay full speed, raised the blade overhead, and slammed it into Clay's head. Normally, a person would be sliced clean in half with a strike like that from a ki blade. In Clay's case, nothing happened. The blade stopped on his forhead and wouldn't go further. No cut at all. Clay grabbed Flojo's wrist and pulled him forward, using the other hand to slam a punch into his ribs, breaking a few of them, causing flojo to cough up blood. Clay then performed a series of lightning fast strikes to almost all of Flojo's vital areas, then dropped him to the ground. Flojo could barely move, and his breaths were rasping and jerky. Most of his ribs were broken, and he was bleeding from at least a dozen places. All in a matter of less than three seconds.

"I let you live because I don't like to slaughter children. We needed your puny little village, and you're the only one who knows what happened to it. I was the one who sent you to MHS, hoping youd forget this. I sent you on that crazy chase around the world, hoping someone else would finish you off. I killed Tajiri-sensei to kick you out of his dojo so you would forget this samurai revenge crap he was feeding you. But, it seems I'll have to do this myself." A glowing sphere of ki appeared in his hand, more than enough to kill Flojo. He stretched his hand out and released it toward him.

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the flojo 
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(2/27/06 4:59 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown!
Another ball of ki flew from the mouth of the alley, hitting Clay's and slamming both glowing blue balls of energy into his chest. They exploded, and caused him to stumble backward.

"I'm afraid I can't let you kill him," a voice called out from the mouth of the alley. Flojo, still barely conscious, recognized the voice.

"And who, may I ask, are you?" Clay responded, not in the least bit concerned, or so it seemed on the outside. Flojo slosly tried to turn himself over and get up, but only got a kick in the side from Clay as a reward.

Dark Flojo stepped out of the shadows and into the alley. It wasn't exactly bright either, but shock registered on Clay's face as he saw who he was facing. Dark Flojo smirked, stretched out a hand toward Clay, and formed a power ball of glowing blue energy in it.

"You see, killing Flojo is a privilege only I will have, although you have made it quite a bit easier for me," he replied, releasing the ball of energy, and it slew toward Clay's head. Clay tilted his head to the side, allowing it to pass. He then jumped into the air, landing behind Dark Flojo and throwing a knifehand strike to the side of his throat. Dark Flojo spun around, caught the strike and punched Clay in the chest, sending him flying out of the alley. He then spread his hands out and fired a barrage of ki blasts toward Clay.

Clay disappeared. Dark Flojo looked around a moment for him, then turned and walked toward Flojo, still lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, now unconscious. Suddenly, the sounds of wailing sirens reached his ears, and Dark Flojo sensed people coming closer. He didn't need this complication.

"Good thing for you I still need you alive, for now." Dark Flojo told the unconscious man, then looked straight up and flew off into the air. A police carr stopped in front of the alley, tires screeching. A young lieutenant jumped out with his gun, shouted "Freeze!" in Chinese, then, upon seeing no one, ran to the figure on the ground. He cursed and called for his partner. They'd need an ambulance.

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the flojo 
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(2/27/06 5:02 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
Colonel Fred Wong was a loyal Chinaman. A part of the Chinese Intelligence's anti-espionage branch, he had thirty years of experience, and was a loyal member of the communist party. He ran his hand through his short black hair as he looked over the report on his desk, as unlikely as it seemed.

Florian Murasame, a German teenager, was found half-dead a few hours ago in a Hong Kong alley. He had a paper in his pocket telling him to follow someone, and investigation had shown a rather strange set of travel plans for the last week, all seemingly random. He was young, sure, but that didn't mean he couldn't be a spy. He was currently in a military hospital, and faced some serious questions when he got out.

The question was, what the hell had happened. A call came in to the Hong Kong police department reporting a gunfight in the alley in question, but that was extremely unlikely. Spies only ran around with guns and bombs in the movies; in reality they drew as little attention to themselves as possible. That was only one of the few things wrong with this scenario.

Another was the man's age. According to his identification, American in origin, he was only sixteen, and his green card backed that up. And no western spy would be so foolish as to run around in Chinese clothes. That was far too conspicuous.

It was Wong's call as to whether or not this man would be arrested and questioned, and to be honest, he wasn't sure. An inspection of his wallet found a list of phone numbers, most of which belonged to Westerners, but one was that of Chen Wailing, a very powerful and well-known Kung Fu master in China. He was a close friend of a number of powerful people, and a spy connected with him would be major trouble.

The best way to find out the connection between the two was to simply call Master Chen. Wong had met him several weeks before at a state dinner, and doubted very much that he would be involved in espionage. If he turned out to be wrong, then he would be in a lot of trouble for calling someone suspected to be connected to a spy, but he had what Americans referred to as a "gut feeling". He lifted the phone and began to dial.

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the flojo 
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(2/27/06 5:05 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
Master Chen Wailing was busy working on some papers. His martial arts school was one of the best in the country, and that was a source of pride, although it was also a pain in the butt. He would only take the best students, and that meant a lot of checking on student history, everything from past training to jobs, to schools. He wanted hard-working, focused students, not lazy slackers. That was what the lousy schools in cities were for.

This young man was an interesting prospect. Strong grades and work records, along with the star reviews from his former instructors. There was one he wanted to reread, but he couldn't find the damned thing. He searched the desk in hopes of finding it, when the phone rang. He hated phones, but they were necessary.

After digging frantically through another pile of papers for his old-fashioned telephone, he picked it up and answered.

"Hello, Chen Kung Fu School. This is Master Chen speaking." he said into the phone by way of greeting, continuing his search for the report.

"Hello, Master Chen. This is Colonel Fred Wong, we met a while ago?"

"Ah, yes, Mr. Wong, I remember you. What brings an intelligence officer to call my humble school?" Chen replied, as a joke of sorts.

"Intelligence officer?" Wong replied innocently, wondering how the hell Chen knew what he was. That was supposed to be classified information. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Master Chen searched on for the report, finding a number of bills, other papers, and an issue of Playboy he had been looking for the day before. He put it carefully to the side as he replied, "Of course you are a spy. This old man knows much more than you give him credit for. What did you need?"

"I'll cut right to the chase. A few hours ago we found a young man half-dead in an alleyway. We found your name and phone number on him, and wondered if you knew him." Wong answered calmly.

"What's his name?"

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the flojo 
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(2/27/06 5:06 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
Flojo lay in the Intensive Care Unit of Sai Li Fu Military Hospital in Hong Kong, unconscious. Three intravaneous lines went from various bottles of vital fluids to his veins, and he had multiple casts for broken bones. He breathed slowly and laboriously, with an oxygen mask on his face providing a bit of help.

Although he didn't know it, his hospital room was guarded by two military officers with assault rifles, with another guard down the hall near the stairs, and a fourth for the elevator. They didn't know what he might be, nor did they need to know. They had orders to keep him in his room, and if that was what they needed to do to earn their pay, then so be it. In fact, the guards were so busy looking in to keep him from getting out that they didn't notice that someone else was coming in.

The guard near the stairs reacted first. Unfortunately, the only reaction he had time for was a quick gasp as a fist slammed into his throat, snapping his neck and killing him instantly. The second guard near the elevator had no warning at all. He didn't even have a chance to feel the bit of chi that severed his spinal cord before dying.

The other two guards guarding the room door, though, saw their comrade fall, and reacted immediately, shouldering their rifles and firing at the attacker. He was too fast for their bullets to hit, and ran up to them and slit one guard's throat open with what appeared to be an invisible weapon. The other guard had just time enough to realize one thing before dying. This man was the one they were supposed to be keeping in.

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the flojo 
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(2/27/06 5:10 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
Most people don't like hospitals, and Fred Wong was no exception. He had had quite a few nasty problems during his years of service to his country, most of which happened during his more conventional service as a military officer during his youth, as a member of a unit that didn't exist, who went on missions that had never happened. Thus, he had more than a few unpleasant memories of infirmaries.

Although he had traded in his rifle for a briefcase, Wong's instincts were still sharp. A trained killer can never become anything else, and that's what Wong was. He instantly knew something was wrong halfway up to the thirteenth floor, where he had agreed to meet Master Chen at Murasame's room. He didn't need to see or hear anything, but a part of him just knew something was afoot.

He slowly reached into his suit's jacket, easing his automatic out of its holster. Most spies didn't carry guns, but Wong had enough combat experience to know that it could be the difference between life and death. He had never really taken the time to master the pistol, but was a fairly decent shot. He hoped fairly decent would cut it.

He glanced up at the display showing what floor he was on. The seventh. Why did elevators go so damn slow when you wanted to hurry somewhere. He waited somewhat calmly until he reached the tenth floor, when he heard gunfire from above. Automatic weapons. That would have to be the military guards.

Fuck, Wong thought, pulling his weapon out and pulling back the hammer. He felt the inside of his jacket, making sure his two extra clips were there. That gave him a total of twenty-one rounds. He prayed they would be enough.

The elevator let out a ding, and Wong flattened himself against the wall next to the door, so that he wouldn't be seen. The door slowly opened when he realized that the entire back of the elevator was a mirror, and he was in plain sight. Too late for that.

The door slid open, and Wong saw that the hallway was empty, unless you counted four dead guards and a dead nurse. This was not good. Where was a squad of Marines when you needed them?

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the flojo 
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(2/27/06 5:15 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
Chen Wailing hung up the phone and immediately walked out of his office, setting a brisk pace for himself. What the hell was his grandson doing in Hong Kong, much less half-dead in an alley? The boy should have taken his advice and found a pretty girl to settle down and raise a family with. Why did the boy insist on this fool quest for revenge.

That must be it, Chen thought to himself. He knew how strong Flojo was; he had had a large hand in his training. There weren't many people who could beat him, and most of those were Kung Fu masters who were too mature and enlightened to beat up on a young man.

Okay, so he'd probably found the man he was looking for. And gotten beaten like a four-year-old at K-Mart. And now the government thought he might be a spy. Why did he always do stupid things like this? The young man always got into trouble, then Chen had to come and save him before he got himself killed trying to do some damned idiotic samurai posturing.

Students bowed as the master passed them in the hallway, but he payed them little heed, his mind working furiously. He entered his assistant teacher's office without knocking as usual, finding Ren lying back in his recliner, snoozing. Also as usual.

"Ren! Wake up!" Master Chen said, storming into the room. He didn't have time for this.

Ren started awake and jumped up out of his recliner, coming back with his usual excuse: "I apologize, Master. I was just resting my eyes for a moment - "

" - and I startled you. I've heard this plenty of times before. Anyway, I have to go," Master Chen continued, "my grandson needs saving again. Keep the school in one piece until I return."

"Yes, Sifu." Ren replied.

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the flojo 
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(2/27/06 5:23 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
Wong's pistol grip tightened as he moved out from behind the protective wall of the elevator and into the hallway. It appeared empty, but one could never tell. He quickly rolled behind a counter near the elevator, and looked up over it and down the hall. When he was certain the hallway was empty, he moved out slowly and cautiously, moving toward the downed elevator guard. He was bleeding from his back and lying face-down. Wong flipped the body over to see eyes already filmed over with the glaze of death. Damn.

He flipped the man over again, examining his wound. It seemed to be a cut, like a sword attack, rather than a gun wound. That was unexpected. How could someone with only a blade kill four armed guards, and skilled ones at that?

Wong holstered his pistol and appropriated the man's assault rifle and a few clips. The guard sure as hell didn't need them any more. Wong lifted the phone on the counter to call for backup.

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the flojo 
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(2/27/06 5:26 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
The gunfire had woken Flojo from his unconscious state, although he was in no condition to move. He glanced to his left and right, silently cursing the brace that held his injured neck in place. His body felt like a massive wound, but he held in the pain without showing it. Had he heard gunshots? Or were they his imagination? He wasn't sure. He'd had dreams, or rather a dream while unconscious.

It always began with Clay. Him, killing Flojo's parents, two faceless people Flojo couldn't even remember. Him, beating Flojo to a pulp in that alleyway. Him, always laughing crazily as he killed and destroyed his village, his friends, his life. The dream kept repeating with no end in sight, until the gunshots.

Were they gunshots? Flojo wondered. He was no expert on firearms, but he'd been shot at enough times to recognize the sound of gunfire, and to know that it was something best avoided. He heard footsteps to his left, and his neck brace suddenly popped off. What was going on here? Flojo tilted his head slowly to the left towards the door, grimacing in pain, only to see the last thing he needed now.

"You know," Dark Flojo said as he walked into the hospital room, "getting you to this point has been a serious pain in the ass. But now I can finish it."

He walked to the edge of the bed, his black trenchcoat swishing along his legs as he stepped on the blue tiles of the hospital floor. He reached inside his coat and pulled out a slip of paper with a series of lines and a kanji on it. He regretted needing to do this, but Flojo was useless to him in this state.

Flojo looked impassively. So, this was it. He'd trained, fought, traveled through half the Goddamned world, and it came to this. Death before he could get his revenge, being killed like some animal while he lay injured and helpless. But why a Kuji-kiri? Dark Flojo simply needed to use a bit of ki, or unplug his breathing equipment if that was too much to ask. There was no need for overkill.

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the flojo 
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(2/27/06 5:31 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
Dark Flojo heard the click of a weapon and had just enough time to spin around and find Wong standing outside the room's entrance. Then, Wong loosed a bursst of rounds in his direction. Dark Flojo was quick, but still based on a human body. Two rounds caught him in the chest and he evaded the others. He ran over to Wong, pulling back and punching at his head.

Wong moved quickly, his days of military combat coming back to him. Besides, his kung fu skills were also quite formidable. He sidestepped quickly, slamming the butt of the rifle in Dark Flojo's chest. He then stepped back, reshouldered the weapon, and fired as the man reeled back from the blow. All five rounds went into Dark Flojo's chest, sending him back a few more feet.

Dark Flojo straightened himself and looked Wong in the eye. This man was quick, and quick meant dangerous in this kind of game. Wong was badly startled when he realized that no blood flowed from the either his enemy's chest nor shoulder, although bullet holes were clearly visible. What the hell was he fighting.

"Don't move," Wong said, trying to remain calm. He had just noticed that this man wasn't Florian Murasame; he was still in the hospital bed a few feet behind Dark Flojo. "You are under arrest."

"Fool," Dark Flojo replied darkly as he made a glowing blue ball of ki energy in his right hand, "you can't kill me!"

Dark Flojo loosed the ball, and Wong dodged, but the defensive move was ineffective. The ball slammed into the floor below Wong and exploed like a grenade, sending Wong, a number of floor tiles, and pieces of the doorway flying back. Wong slammed into the whitewashed wall on the other side of the hallway and fell to the floor unconscious. Dark Flojo spun toward Flojo and stepped back toward bed, picking the kuji-kiri up off the floor. It was time to finish this before there were any more distractions.

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the flojo 
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(2/27/06 5:34 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
Human beings have a tendency to try to plan things out. Their lives, relationships, schooling, job, finances, everything. This seems like a logical thing to do until one examines the fact that very rarely do plans actually work as they are supposed to. More often than not, something interferes with the plan, preventing its completion. In most normal cases, this is easily dealt with by an emergency backup, or hard work on the part of the executor of the plan. This, however, was not one of those cases.

Before Dark Flojo reached the bed, an old man appeared in between himself and Flojo, seemingly out of nowhere. He was a short Chinese man dressed in a traditional green suit, with little hair and a short beard. It took Dark Flojo a moment to place the man, before realizing that he was looking at Flojo's grandfather, Chen Wailing.

"Interesting..." Master Chen said, calmly looking over the chaos with his chi, examining the bodies in the hall in an instant. As well as the kuji-kiri in Dark Flojo's hand. "All of this killing was unnecessary. These people have friends, and families. So does Flojo. Do you really want to do this to him?"

"So," Dark Flojo replied, gesturing to the paper in his hand, "I take it you know what this does. Well then, let me explain it to you. I'm tired of having lived as a part of this idiot's mind, little more than a secluded memory. Even worse, a memory that is forgotten and secluded. He stole my body, and I want it back."

Master Chen had suspected as much. This Dark Flojo was, in fact, the original Flojo, before he'd lost his memory. It was his original personality and way of thinking, and angry killer. Chen hadn't taken much of a role in Flojo's life because of his strength and anger, but that had changed after he had lost his memory and become a new person, more disciplined, and just ... nicer all around.

"It doesn't have to be this way, grandson," Master Chen said.

_______________
the flojo 
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(2/27/06 5:39 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
Four hours later, Colonel Wong stood in the same hospital room with a newly repaired and now fully-conscious Flojo. He didn't ask for an explanation; he knew that nothing he was told would make any sense to him anyway. The only thing he had learned was that Flojo was in fact Master Chen's grandson, and had been following a suspected international terrorist and mass murderer.

Flojo, now fully functional thanks to Master Chen's amazing acupressure work, felt fine. The healing process hadn't even left a trace of a scar behind.

"Colonel Wong, before we leave, I want to thank you for saving my grandson. If you hadn't interfered he would be dead now." Master Chen said to Wong, bowing politely. Wong bowed back, saying he was unworthy of such praise, having done only his duty to his country. Flojo had little knowledge of what had happened in the past hours, but was smart enough to see that keeping it shut up was a good idea. He bowed politely as well, giving his thanks, so that everything would seem normal to Wong's superior, who was out in the hall and probably listening.

In a matter of minutes they were back at the Chen Kung Fu school, a somewhat familiar place for Flojo. Although physically healthy, he was still crushed by his defeat. He hadn't expected to be beaten so easily, especially after all of his training. Then again, he knew he wasn't strong enough to win, not yet anyway. It was just that he'd expected to last longer than this in the fight.

"Now, I suppose this beating has failed to dissuade you from your quest for revenge. Am I correct?" Master Chen asked him as they walked down the halls, Flojo wearing his normal clothes again and glad to be out of that damn hospital ... whatever they called it. He had his possesions in a large bag slung over his right shoulder. Those he hadn't left in storage, anyway.

"I have to, gramps. It's a matter of honor." Flojo replied nonchalantly. He'd been through this conversation plenty of times already.

"Well then," Chen continued as they stopped in front of his office door, slowly sliding it open, "you will need help. Meet yourself."

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the flojo 
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(2/27/06 5:47 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
Flojo gasped as the door moved to reveal Dark Flojo. Only, he seemed different now. Dressed in a black silk chinese suit, with dragons entwining his arms, he seemed more solid than ever before. Of course, this could also be because it was the first time Flojo had seen him doing something as normal as sitting in a chair and reading... was that a Playboy?. Dark Flojo grinned and raised his hand in a wave.

" - the hell?" Flojo asked, too surprised to think clearly.

"Have a seat, Flojo, and I'll explain," Master Chen said, guiding Flojo to a seat, and sitting down behind his large desk, gesturing to Dark Flojo, who'd put the magazine away, "this is you."

"This," Flojo said, voice full of surety, "is an anomaly. A piece of my ki that broke off and became a thoughtform of its own. A very strong thoughtform to be sure, but still not a living thing." Dark Flojo's eyes narrowed slightly at the remark.

"No. This is who you were before you lost your memory. This is the original Flojo. He was attempting to take your body as his own, because you were unknowingly suppressing him in your mind. He wanted his freedom," Master Chen said.

"So, I broke a piece of my mind off from you in a weak moment with a bit of ki. As more pieces of myself broke off over time, I gathered them together to construct a new soul. It was a whole shitload of work. Anyway, all I needed was a body. Naturally, I wanted mine back. I was pretty pissed that someone else was driving it. Lucky for you, grandfather knows enough of ki that he was able to build me one. This," Dark Flojo continued, spreading his arms, "is that new body."

Flojo was stunned by this revelation. He'd seen some weird things in his time, but this topped them all.

"So ... you don't want to kill me any more?" Flojo asked carefully. This was an occasion for caution.

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the flojo 
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(2/27/06 5:52 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
"No," Dark Flojo replied calmly, with a smile, "in fact, technically I suppose you're a member of my family, a brother or something like that. Besides, we need to get along if we are to avenge our parents and hometown, right?"

"You're right, err ... what should I call you?" Flojo asked, wondering. It would be far too confusing to share the same name.

"It's Ren. Means 'ruler' in Welsh. Fitting, isn't it?" he replied.

"Yeah, I suppose. What's next?" Flojo asked, glancing from Dark Flojo to his grandfather.

"Training." was the reply they both gave him.

_______________
the flojo 
Flojo Murasame
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(2/28/06 12:13 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
The next four months were as extreme as any in his life. Flojo found himself doing any and every training exercise his grandfather could concieve, with Ren right there with him. It was a little odd, getting used to thinking of the former Dark Flojo as a friend, much less family, but training together was boosting their camaraderie.

Work continued throughout the whole week. Leaping kung. Iron-fist kung. Iron-body kung. Light-body kung. So many kungs that Flojo and Ren didn't know what to do with them, but they kept training. When they became exhausted, Master Chen did ... something ... with his ki to restore them back to full stamina, repair muscles and everything. They didn't even need to sleep with this technique. Whatever it was, it was keeping them training nearly twenty-four hours a day, with the only breaks being six rather massive meals every day, of which they ate every bite.

More training. Forms. Meditation. Sparring. Defensive Sparring. Offensive Sparring. Team Sparring. Limited Sparring. Every kind of sparring. Weigtlifting. More of those damn kungs. Chi Kung. Golden Bell Kung. Four-Fold Breathe Kung. Here a kung, there a kung, everywhere a kung, kung.

One evening, during a weighted sparring match, Master Chen showed up in the garden where they were sparring. Master Chen advocated sparring in such places, because fighting without damaging the flowers required precise control of one's skills. The master told them to stop and they halted their match, bowing to Master Chen with the respect and dignity that a martial arts master, and their grandfather, deserved.

"Tonight, you will both rest," Master Chen announced, "you will eat now, then go to bed."

"What about our training?" Ren asked, "Why can't we simply continue through the night as we always do?"

"Because too much work without play can be damaging to the spirit. You've been training nonstop for four months now. Both of you are much stronger than before, but you must rest, and do things that normal teenagers would do. Thus, you will sleep tonight, and tomorrow you will go down the mountain and into town. There is some kind of festival or something going on; some local thing. It'll give you a chance to unwind." the Master replied patiently, "so go on."

The master left, and Flojo and Ren began undoing the ties of their weights, leeting them drop to the ground. They were both tired, and training was beginning to become a chore. Perhaps this was a good idea.

"Y'know, the old fart's only doing this so he can hit on the girls around here without us interfering, right?" Ren asked with a grin.

"Yeah. Well, as long as we get a day off..." Flojo replied wearily.

_______________
the flojo 
Flojo Murasame
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(2/28/06 12:20 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
"Okay, I found out what the hell this is all about," Ren began, as he came into Flojo's room the next morning, dressed in a red silk suit that was considerably flashier than his usual style. Flojo was busily squirming into a t-shirt.

"Enlighten me," Flojo replied as he put on his white, Chinese-style jacket and began doing up the buttons.

"Okay, I've asked around. This local festival is based on some legend about the town from a long time ago. Apparently it's about a girl who saved a goat that turned into a prince or some crap like that. Anyway, it's a romantic festival. A sort of Chinese Valentine's day," Ren explained, knowing exactly what was on Flojo's mind.

They both ran down the hall to their grandfather's office, knocked, then entered without being asked. They weren't very surprised to see their grandfather's second-in-command, Chung Ren, dozing behind their grandfather's desk. Flojo thought he knew what was going on, but he asked to be sure.

"Hey Ren, have you seen Master Chen?" Flojo asked. Ren jerked upright in his seat, hurriedly wiping some drool from his chin, then faced Flojo and Ren Murasame.

"Errr... what? Chen?" he replied, wiping his eyes and yawning, "he went down to the village this morning. He said he had to take care of some stuff for you guys. Why?"

_______________
the flojo 
Flojo Murasame
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Posts: 523
(2/28/06 12:23 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
"Okay," Ren said as they ambled along the path down the mountain. They were taking their time, in no great hurry to reach the bottom, "so the old man has another idiot scheme to make you marry and settle down. Wonder what it is this time?" Ren grinned, recalling Chen's past attempts to marry off Flojo and their hilarious aftereffects. This one would probably be hilarious.

"That's if it's me he's trying to marry off," Flojo replied, "remember, you're the same age as me, with the same 'idiotic goal', as gramps so wonderfully puts it. It could very well be your neck on the chopping block. Or both of ours."

Ren's grin disappeared, and he realized that Chen's ideas were a lot less funny from the receiving end than they were from an outsider's point of view. He began kicking a rock at his feet, thinking furiously. Whatever he had planned had to tie in with this holiday somehow. He felt a little sad for whatever poor little village girl had gotten caught in this idiotic scheme, but hey, that was life. He had his own problems to worry about.

Flojo, at the same time, was thinking about other things. Manga High School, to be specific. He missed the place, and actually felt a little ... homesick. Honestly, that did make sense, since Manga High was the only home he'd ever known. After losing his memory, he'd simply chased Clay around the world, no even knowing who he was or why, before coming to Manga High School. Two whole years that had been, with no one to call friend or family. Well, now he had his grandfather, for all that was worth, and his new "brother" Ren. Even so, he missed Manga High and all of the people there.

_______________
the flojo 
Flojo Murasame
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(2/28/06 12:24 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
Thirty Minutes Earlier...

Master Chen moved at a modest pace toward the small warehouse he had rented, a line of people following him. He didn't like using normal street thugs for this, but they were cheap, and Flojo and Ren knew a lot of the schools students. It was likely that they'd recognize one if he used them, and then the entire plan would go up in smoke. So, he want with the street thugs. He dug keys out of his pocket and opened the warehouse, motioning the men inside. There were twelve of them, enough to appear a gang.

"Now," Master Chen began after turning on the lights, and everyone found seats on crates lying around, "you all know who I am, do you not?"

Most of the thugs shook their heads, not really caring. He was probably a rich businessman from out of town or something, who needed something dirty done. It was a normal part of life for them. The ones who nodded, however, sat up straight, and acted much more respectfully as their less-enlightened peers lounged around and smoked cigarettes, waiting for Chen to speak.

"I am Master Chen Wailing, from the school on the mountain," Master Chen said, and the cigarettes disappeared as postures and manners improved. Students from the school frequently visited the town, and their prowess was well known. The master of such a school was to be respected.

"What do you need us for, Master Chen? We will be honored to help." one of the more polite thugs asked, bowing slightly in a show of respect.

"I offered to pay you well if you helped me, and that I will. What I want you to do, however, is probably something you wouldn't expect, but I will explain it as best I can. I have two grandsons who I need to get married. I have found a girl, a good one, but convincing either to settle down and marry her would be next to impossible," the Master explained, "so, this is what I need you to do..."

_______________
the flojo 
Flojo Murasame
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Posts: 527
(2/28/06 12:35 pm)
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Re: Hong Kong Throwdown! (closed)
Ren and Flojo continued down the mountain, still not exactly looking forward to what was obviously going to happen not too long from now. They simply hoped it wouldn't be too embarassing, like some of his raunchier past attempts. Their grandfather was a wise man in other things, but almost everything he knew about women came from the inappropriate magazines and videos he perused so much.

Suddenly, a scream sounded from their right. They looked instantly, but there were boulders in the way, and it was pretty far away. Flojo could sense a female presence, being attacked, it seemed, by some male ones, while other males stood by. Flojo and Ren glanced at one another, then began running full speed toward the sound, leaping over boulders and rocks.

When they arrived, they found a scene that wasn't very pretty. A girl about their age was backed up against a rock wall, with nine thugs creeping up on her. Another three were sitting on boulders nearby, apparently taking their leisure and enjoying the show. The one on the highest rock was obviously in charge of this group; the other two standing nearby were probably his guards or just some lackeys who got out of doing the work.

Flojo and Ren walked into the clearing, and one of the gang leader's buddies was the first to notice, alerting his boss, who looked in their direction. He grinned oddly, then spoke.

"Well, look what we have here. Care to join us, guys?" he asked jokingly, then the grin disappeared, "scram. And I mean now."

Ren laughed out loud. "I doubt ou could make us go if your life depended on it. Leave the girl alone and we might not beat the shit out of you punks. Of course, we could always do it my way, where I beat the hell out of the lot of you," he shrugged, an evil grin lighting up his face, "either way suits me."

The gang leader, who was probably used to having his way, didn't seem perturbed by this speech. In fact, it seemed as if he had been expecting it... The leader whispered a few words Ren didn't catch and the two guys near him came ambling over toward Ren and Flojo.

So, this will get ugly, Ren thought.

_______________
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