SNK vs Capcom: Savage Blood
The heady smell of sweat and adrenaline saturated the air. There was an utterly feral atmosphere that rose high above the raging crowd and soared higher than the skylights. Iori Yagami had already done three songs, and medlied his fourth from the third. With his prized Richenbacher guitar giving sweet voice to his agony, his joys, his most basic emotions; he was totally lost in it all. Every rev and reverb, every bass soulful note, every carefully played score could be paralleled with some chapter in Iori's troubled life.
Trained since youth for the sole purpose to kill the heir of his family's rivals, the Kusanagi and their scion Kyo, Iori yet did not care for battle, though it be in his blood.
Yes, within his blood contained the very essence of war-searing agony, for within his blood carried the taint of Orochi. His family long ago made a pact with the demon in order to destroy their newly turned arch nemeseses; centuries later, he is the final and most deadly product of that pact.
With a merged style of his family's Yagamiken Karate and his own base animalistic instincts, reinforced by the Orochi enhanced purple flame, Iori would be more than the match for the final member of the Kusanagi clan, he would write Kyo's final epitome.
Even while lost in thoughts, Iori played in such a way that made him appear more of the main attraction instead of just warm-up. Finally finishing his final song, Iori threw his guitar pic out into the crowd, unceremoniously pulled his guitar strap onto his shoulder, and walked off stage, leaving the crowd starving for more.
Walking offstage, he met with the actual main attraction for the concert, KMFDM. Courteously giving them a nod, Iori walked through the group members as they rushed out onto stage. After shouting several almost inaudible things, the band went into "Leid Und Elend."
Iori entered his dressing room right as the group hit the second verse of their song, "Ich liebe deinen mond in meiner Nacht, Ohne Deine sonne is kein tag." Almost slamming the door behind him, Iori set his most prized guitar down carefully in a burgundy felt covered chair that matched the decor of the rest of the room. In front of the chair Iori picked up a set of keys from a burgundy framed glass table, and used them to unlock the wet bar.
Pulling out a bottle of an 82 vintage Californian wine, Iori yanked the cork out with his bare hands and collapsed onto a circular bed with valuer sheets. With his head being propped up by down pillows, Iori's eyes were able to center onto a bouquet of deep red roses, almost too dark a color to be natural. Setting up in bed, Iori began to study them until his tired mind could comprehend what they were.
Upon that realization Iori allowed Leona's name to softly escape his lips with his breath and began to examine his room, "I'm afraid if this Leona is who you were expecting, you may be greatly upset."
Jerking his head to follow the suprisingly deep and male voice, a disappointed Iori's eyes fell upon a stranger with dark Lennon glasses and a jet black suit with a blood red shirt, "I only like women," replied Iori in a voice coated with boredom.
"Heh, quaint," mused the man, "but that was far from my intentions."
"Then what business do you have with me," questioned Iori, standing to his full height to tower the man who had just sat down in one of the other felt coated chairs.
"I felt the color of the roses was most apt for you, I didn't think you would be a man to appreciate yellow roses after all," jokingly spoke the stranger, "I have long been a fan of yours and have much to discuss with you."
"Interesting, since I have not been known in this music business for long," scoffed Iori. The visitor stood up to his full frame, now it was Iori's turn to be impressed.
"Not only music, but I have been a fan of your fighting as well. You are a skilled fighter, and I would like to employ your services."
"I do not fight," replied Iori with a sullen tone to his voice.
A smile broke across the gentleman's face as he in too replied in sarcasm, "Of course you don't." Not caring to be mocked, Iori made a glance to the door and finalized the conversation, "you may go now." The black suited man had held his temper but now it was taunt to the point of snapping. This didn't escape Iori's notice and the crimsoned haired man took a certain pleasure from his frustrations.
With that, Iori himself got up to walk towards the exit as the suited man seemed to almost glide with no sound into the front of Iori, barring his escape. The gentleman placed his hand firmly upon Iori's shoulder and in a low yet firm voice said, "This is something you should sincerely reconsider."
Iori considered himself a pacifist (which to those who know him consider this his most brutal and cruelest irony), but now his rather finite patience had come to an end. Iori's hand subtly curved into a fear-bringing claw, as he torqued his body, and connected with the other tall man's gut.
"YOU'RE IN MY WAY!" Iori bellowed, as he drew his hand up and across his visitor's torso, sending him flying through the door and shattering it to pieces. With the door broken Iori could hear the song being played, 'Inane', as he peered out the door frame to see no body laying unconscious. Iori felt the gentleman's hot breath upon his neck before he even spoke.
"Boo."
Iori slid his right foot further back, as he twisted towards his guest, bringing his right hand from his mid-level, up into a raising backfist, which was easily redirected by the gentleman. Iori followed with his left hand raking upward, which plainly missed the man's face. The Crimson haired man gave attack after attack, yet nothing connected solid if at all. Iori began to see that his foe was ENJOYING this, and that made Iori even more determined to wipe the smile from his face.
As Iori's tolerance waned, wave after wave of blows became faster and faster; and as the attacks became faster and faster, the black suited gentleman began to focus harder and harder on blocking and redirecting the attacks. As the harder he had the focus, the more his face turned from a look of amusement to a face of grave seriousness.
Seeing an opening in Iori's onslaught, the man turned out of his way leaving Iori wide open for an attack to his side. Sure enough Iori felt a punch to the open flank that caused him to stumble forward. Iori quickly regained his footing, and brought his left leg up into an almost clumsy hook kick that nonetheless looked devastating.
FINALLY, Iori scored a hit which landed heavily on against his opponent's jaw. Iori quickly pressed the attack again and was managing to land a blow every so often through the other fighter's almost iron defense. Neither of them noticed they had taken the fight back to the stage.
The black shaded man regained his focus from the strong kick just in time to duck under and around Iori's spinning flame uppercut, and jumped back a meter or two. Iori turned to follow him and saw that the suited man was now darting towards Iori. The crimson haired fighter readied an Orochi tainted flame and was beginning to hurl it along the ground when he saw his aggressing opponent flicker out of existence for a split second. When he came back he was almost upon Iori and he no longer wore a black suit or shades. The only thing Iori could make out before getting caught in a spinning backfist, was a blood red lined cape.
The punch Iori received was enough to knock him into a frenzied crowed, both turned on by the industrial music and the fight going on onstage, and knocked at least 10 people down under him as he came down. The black and red caped man jumped down from the stage, eagerly awaiting battle. Iori winced at the pain of having to open another Orochi flame and hurled it towards his opponent and shouted, "I will not make dying easy for you!"
The other tall man barely raised his hands in time to counter with a flaming bat, unfortunately for him, he wasn't able to force the ground swell of purple flame back and ended up being caught in an exploding pillar of purple lightning, that seared and engulfed him in a potent energy.
A growl came from Iori's direction as he darted at the helpless opponent, yelling, "PLAYTIME IS OVER!" As soon as he was upon his opponent, Iori began a series of rapid blows and rakes across the purple frozen man. As he was attacking, Iori screamed out, "CRY, SCREAM, AND...." Iori grabbed the now gasping man and threw his head back, then jerked forward and finished with "DIE!" With that, his opponent was once again engulfed in purple flame and thrown back against the stage.
After pausing for a few second to see if his opponent was going to move again, Iori finally relaxed and put his hands in his pockets and calmly said to his fallen opponent, "Heh, you amaguer. Fool. Die just as you are."
As soon as the last syllable left his throat, his opponent's eyes opened back up, covered with a red energy. Iori immediately fell back into his fighting stance, and began to summon another purple flame. Already exausted from the fight, and his previous performance, Iori was unable to fight back the pain as it took over.
Iori's vision faded to red and blurred everything else out but his opponent. His hair turned purple as his pupils dilated until they almost seemed to disappear. Iori folded forward and hunched over as he began to froth at the mouth; his hands bending once again into sinister steel claws.
"I am Demitri Maximoff, the greatest of all the Darkstalkers, and now that we have thrown off these weak facades, we can TRULY do battle." With that, Iori bent backwards at a spine straining angle, as he cried into the night air, being audible enough to be heard over KMFDM playing "Mercy."
Next: The Greater Demon?
The heady smell of sweat and adrenaline saturated the air. There was an utterly feral atmosphere that rose high above the raging crowd and soared higher than the skylights. Iori Yagami had already done three songs, and medlied his fourth from the third. With his prized Richenbacher guitar giving sweet voice to his agony, his joys, his most basic emotions; he was totally lost in it all. Every rev and reverb, every bass soulful note, every carefully played score could be paralleled with some chapter in Iori's troubled life.
Trained since youth for the sole purpose to kill the heir of his family's rivals, the Kusanagi and their scion Kyo, Iori yet did not care for battle, though it be in his blood.
Yes, within his blood contained the very essence of war-searing agony, for within his blood carried the taint of Orochi. His family long ago made a pact with the demon in order to destroy their newly turned arch nemeseses; centuries later, he is the final and most deadly product of that pact.
With a merged style of his family's Yagamiken Karate and his own base animalistic instincts, reinforced by the Orochi enhanced purple flame, Iori would be more than the match for the final member of the Kusanagi clan, he would write Kyo's final epitome.
Even while lost in thoughts, Iori played in such a way that made him appear more of the main attraction instead of just warm-up. Finally finishing his final song, Iori threw his guitar pic out into the crowd, unceremoniously pulled his guitar strap onto his shoulder, and walked off stage, leaving the crowd starving for more.
Walking offstage, he met with the actual main attraction for the concert, KMFDM. Courteously giving them a nod, Iori walked through the group members as they rushed out onto stage. After shouting several almost inaudible things, the band went into "Leid Und Elend."
Iori entered his dressing room right as the group hit the second verse of their song, "Ich liebe deinen mond in meiner Nacht, Ohne Deine sonne is kein tag." Almost slamming the door behind him, Iori set his most prized guitar down carefully in a burgundy felt covered chair that matched the decor of the rest of the room. In front of the chair Iori picked up a set of keys from a burgundy framed glass table, and used them to unlock the wet bar.
Pulling out a bottle of an 82 vintage Californian wine, Iori yanked the cork out with his bare hands and collapsed onto a circular bed with valuer sheets. With his head being propped up by down pillows, Iori's eyes were able to center onto a bouquet of deep red roses, almost too dark a color to be natural. Setting up in bed, Iori began to study them until his tired mind could comprehend what they were.
Upon that realization Iori allowed Leona's name to softly escape his lips with his breath and began to examine his room, "I'm afraid if this Leona is who you were expecting, you may be greatly upset."
Jerking his head to follow the suprisingly deep and male voice, a disappointed Iori's eyes fell upon a stranger with dark Lennon glasses and a jet black suit with a blood red shirt, "I only like women," replied Iori in a voice coated with boredom.
"Heh, quaint," mused the man, "but that was far from my intentions."
"Then what business do you have with me," questioned Iori, standing to his full height to tower the man who had just sat down in one of the other felt coated chairs.
"I felt the color of the roses was most apt for you, I didn't think you would be a man to appreciate yellow roses after all," jokingly spoke the stranger, "I have long been a fan of yours and have much to discuss with you."
"Interesting, since I have not been known in this music business for long," scoffed Iori. The visitor stood up to his full frame, now it was Iori's turn to be impressed.
"Not only music, but I have been a fan of your fighting as well. You are a skilled fighter, and I would like to employ your services."
"I do not fight," replied Iori with a sullen tone to his voice.
A smile broke across the gentleman's face as he in too replied in sarcasm, "Of course you don't." Not caring to be mocked, Iori made a glance to the door and finalized the conversation, "you may go now." The black suited man had held his temper but now it was taunt to the point of snapping. This didn't escape Iori's notice and the crimsoned haired man took a certain pleasure from his frustrations.
With that, Iori himself got up to walk towards the exit as the suited man seemed to almost glide with no sound into the front of Iori, barring his escape. The gentleman placed his hand firmly upon Iori's shoulder and in a low yet firm voice said, "This is something you should sincerely reconsider."
Iori considered himself a pacifist (which to those who know him consider this his most brutal and cruelest irony), but now his rather finite patience had come to an end. Iori's hand subtly curved into a fear-bringing claw, as he torqued his body, and connected with the other tall man's gut.
"YOU'RE IN MY WAY!" Iori bellowed, as he drew his hand up and across his visitor's torso, sending him flying through the door and shattering it to pieces. With the door broken Iori could hear the song being played, 'Inane', as he peered out the door frame to see no body laying unconscious. Iori felt the gentleman's hot breath upon his neck before he even spoke.
"Boo."
Iori slid his right foot further back, as he twisted towards his guest, bringing his right hand from his mid-level, up into a raising backfist, which was easily redirected by the gentleman. Iori followed with his left hand raking upward, which plainly missed the man's face. The Crimson haired man gave attack after attack, yet nothing connected solid if at all. Iori began to see that his foe was ENJOYING this, and that made Iori even more determined to wipe the smile from his face.
As Iori's tolerance waned, wave after wave of blows became faster and faster; and as the attacks became faster and faster, the black suited gentleman began to focus harder and harder on blocking and redirecting the attacks. As the harder he had the focus, the more his face turned from a look of amusement to a face of grave seriousness.
Seeing an opening in Iori's onslaught, the man turned out of his way leaving Iori wide open for an attack to his side. Sure enough Iori felt a punch to the open flank that caused him to stumble forward. Iori quickly regained his footing, and brought his left leg up into an almost clumsy hook kick that nonetheless looked devastating.
FINALLY, Iori scored a hit which landed heavily on against his opponent's jaw. Iori quickly pressed the attack again and was managing to land a blow every so often through the other fighter's almost iron defense. Neither of them noticed they had taken the fight back to the stage.
The black shaded man regained his focus from the strong kick just in time to duck under and around Iori's spinning flame uppercut, and jumped back a meter or two. Iori turned to follow him and saw that the suited man was now darting towards Iori. The crimson haired fighter readied an Orochi tainted flame and was beginning to hurl it along the ground when he saw his aggressing opponent flicker out of existence for a split second. When he came back he was almost upon Iori and he no longer wore a black suit or shades. The only thing Iori could make out before getting caught in a spinning backfist, was a blood red lined cape.
The punch Iori received was enough to knock him into a frenzied crowed, both turned on by the industrial music and the fight going on onstage, and knocked at least 10 people down under him as he came down. The black and red caped man jumped down from the stage, eagerly awaiting battle. Iori winced at the pain of having to open another Orochi flame and hurled it towards his opponent and shouted, "I will not make dying easy for you!"
The other tall man barely raised his hands in time to counter with a flaming bat, unfortunately for him, he wasn't able to force the ground swell of purple flame back and ended up being caught in an exploding pillar of purple lightning, that seared and engulfed him in a potent energy.
A growl came from Iori's direction as he darted at the helpless opponent, yelling, "PLAYTIME IS OVER!" As soon as he was upon his opponent, Iori began a series of rapid blows and rakes across the purple frozen man. As he was attacking, Iori screamed out, "CRY, SCREAM, AND...." Iori grabbed the now gasping man and threw his head back, then jerked forward and finished with "DIE!" With that, his opponent was once again engulfed in purple flame and thrown back against the stage.
After pausing for a few second to see if his opponent was going to move again, Iori finally relaxed and put his hands in his pockets and calmly said to his fallen opponent, "Heh, you amaguer. Fool. Die just as you are."
As soon as the last syllable left his throat, his opponent's eyes opened back up, covered with a red energy. Iori immediately fell back into his fighting stance, and began to summon another purple flame. Already exausted from the fight, and his previous performance, Iori was unable to fight back the pain as it took over.
Iori's vision faded to red and blurred everything else out but his opponent. His hair turned purple as his pupils dilated until they almost seemed to disappear. Iori folded forward and hunched over as he began to froth at the mouth; his hands bending once again into sinister steel claws.
"I am Demitri Maximoff, the greatest of all the Darkstalkers, and now that we have thrown off these weak facades, we can TRULY do battle." With that, Iori bent backwards at a spine straining angle, as he cried into the night air, being audible enough to be heard over KMFDM playing "Mercy."
Next: The Greater Demon?