The King of Fighters '94: Dawn of a New Era

JIrish

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Joined
Apr 14, 2001
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53
*This and the two posts that shall follow are a "test screening" of sorts. Since playing KOF '94 for the first time, a fire was lit under me, and I decided to chronicle my own personal take on the Orochi saga based on story guides, character guides, playing the games, and what-not. But in writing it, I was kind of worried as to how the KOF "fanatics" would react to it. So, I'll post a few chapters, and any and all feedback, good or bad, is encouraged.*

March, 1994
The Blacknoah
Somewhere on the Atlantic Ocean

A man reawakens from his slumber, and takes in his surroundings. He is in his Master Bedroom, and once again he has full control of his vision. Looking in the mirror, he sees a black orb where once was his right eye. He smiles at the improvement over having nothing there but an empty socket, satisfied with the work his electronics experts and bioengineers have accomplished. “Now that the menial work is taken care of”, he thinks, “time to see to more entertaining prospects.”

He puts on the jacket of his blood-red suit, and walks out to the main hall, and into his gallery, where he is greeted by the macabre sight of a number of lifelike statues, each of a strong warrior. He looks at he plaque at the base of one of the newer ones, “Fei Long”, as one of his secretaries enters the room.

“Mr. Bernstein,” she says. “Your wine, as schedualed.”

“Thank you, Mature”, Bernstein utters.

“I see the new sight orb is working just fine, Mr. Bernstein.”

“Indeed it is. How could you tell?”

“The fact that you haven’t ordered anybody on your staff to be killed over it, yet.”

Bernstein laughs at Mature’s observation. She’s quite right, in fact. Any major problems with the sight orb would require him to correct them in a gruesome fashion. He takes a sip of his wine, and smiles.

“You have no idea how amazing this new power feels, Mature. It is as if I have been remade. I cannot wait to use it to help me expand my collection. But who to add… perhaps one of the heroes of Southtown that I’ve been hearing so much about these past years… or maybe it would be time to find that fool Heidern again…”

Mature simply smirks to herself, content that her boss does not know her secret. Such a powerful, ambitious man is Rugal Bernstein… were his new power actually granted to him by his bloodline, she might have been serving him earlier…

“How to decide,” Rugal continues to ponder out loud, as he looks through his collection. “So many of these fighters are tournament veterans… perhaps, I should hold my own tournament? Yes… that is the answer! It has been a year since Wolfgang Krauser has made the King of Fighters tournament an international event. And he has become a recluse since his defeat at the hands of Terry Bogard. Perhaps it is time that King of Fighters found a new host…”

Mature decides to speak up, now. “Mr. Bernstein, if may interject, you have more than enough power to handle one man alone. Why not make this years King of Fighters tournament a team event? This way, you can have an entire band of fighters added to the gallery.”

“Hmm… Mature, you have an excellent idea! Why just settle for just one fighter with my new powers? Prepare invitations to the following individuals. Let them know that they will be representing an assigned country where I have interests, so that my contacts in the black market can inform me directly. And do provide specific instructions to the ones who are not actual fighters themselves.”

“Yes, Mr. Bernstein.”

“These are the names…”
 

JIrish

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Joined
Apr 14, 2001
Posts
53
Late March, 1994
Brothers in Arms Gym
Southtown, USA

“Alright, Duck, give me everything you’ve got this time!”

“You know I will, Terry!”

Two unusual friends and rivals stand at opposite ends of a small ring in a gym. One, Terry Bogard, is a Caucasian blonde in his 20’s wearing faded jeans, a red jacket over a white shirt, and a red hat with the words “Neo Geo” emblazoned on the front. The other, called Duck King by those who know him, is an African American man, about as old as Terry, who has a large mohawk dyed blond save for the blue streak in front. Sometimes what looks to be a baby duck peeks its head out of his hair. He’s wearing loose pants, a black tanktop, and an orange hooded sweatshirt with his namesake logo on the back. Both have adopted their fighting stances, though Duck’s could just as easily be mistaken for dancing…

The two close in on each other, slowly, then Terry makes the first move. “BURN KNUCKLE!”

Drawing energy and focusing it on his right fist, Terry rushes right at Duck, who just dodges right out of the way to counter. With his trademark “WHOOO!!”, he tucks into a ball and spins in the air right at his sparring partner, hitting him at near point blank. Terry reels back at the blow, but barely stays on his feet as Duck comes out of the move. Duck follows up his attack with a sliding kick, which trips Terry up, and sends him to the mat. He quickly jumps back to his feet, though.

“You’re getting better, Duck,” Terry observes to his opponent.

“Thanks,” Duck returns.

“But not good enough yet. CRACK SHOOT!”

Duck King tries to roll under Terry’s famous flying kick move, but instead finds himself getting stomped on his back as Terry comes down from it. Duck gets to his feet, only to be met by Terry’s fists, which after a few blows knock him into the air, and then…

“RISING TACKLE!”

That sends Duck out of the ring, which is enough to end the match.

“Aw, man! My jaw’s going to be killing me for the whole week now!”

“Hey, you know what to expect when we do this,” Terry retorts. Neither of us hold anything back.”

Duck sighs. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Terry climbs out of the ring, and the two combatants shake hands. Just from the looks on their faces, you can tell they both had fun fighting, as an as yet unnoticed observer claps his hands.

“I see neither of you have lost a step.”

Both Terry and Duck immediately recognize the voice as belonging to Terry’s younger brother, Andy Bogard. He’s, for once, in simple street clothes. The two brothers look like they’re going to embrace, then Terry tries to punch Andy, who promptly blocks it. Then the two finally hug.

“What’s going on, little bro?”

“Just back from Japan, as you probably guessed. Hanzo Shiranui’s doing well… so’s Mai, who decided to come up with me for this visit back.”

“You still got feelings for the ninja doll, huh,” Duck jumps in.

Andy just ignores that. “Anyhow, I grabbed your mail on my way up. Looks like you got an invitation, Terry.”

This takes the elder Bogard by surprise. “Funny, I wasn’t expecting an invitation.” He takes the envelope from Andy. “Let alone one with this official red ‘R’ seal, with the word ‘Italy’ inscribed above it.”

Terry breaks open the seal, and reads the official-looking invitation to himself, as Duck and Andy read over his shoulders.

“We are opening King of Fighters 94 following the time honored custom. This year we will adopt a special rule of competition between teams of 3 fighters. That’s all… [R]”

Duck King is the first to break the silence. “Who’s ‘R?’”

“Not a clue,” replies Andy. “Looks like they want you to head up a team to represent Italy, Terry.”

“Yeah. I’m not sure why, though. That’s usually your turf, Andy. I guess that’s supposed to mean they’re expecting you to be on my team. Not that you weren’t the first person to cross my mind, anyway.”

Andy smiles smugly. “Is that an invitation?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be on your team, and we’ll see which one of us is the better fighter by how we perform.”

“It’s times like this I’m glad I don’t have a brother to compete with,” Duck King chimes in. “But who are you guys going to grab as your third? I’d love to, but after getting my clock cleaned by you today, Terry, I don’t think I’m what you have in mind.”

Terry laughs at Duck’s rare show of modesty. In spite of his talent, fighting isn’t the first thing in Duck King’s heart anyway. “Well, I appreciate the sentiment anyway, Duck. But I think Andy and I would work best with Joe Higashi. I’ll give him a call tonight, and see what he thinks.”

“Then it’s settled,” Andy says. “The three of us will represent Italy in this years King of Fighter tournament.”

Terry’s eyes gleam at the prospect as he puts his right fist in his left hand. “I can’t wait. It’s been a while since I’ve had a good professional bout. I wonder who else is going to be participating this year…”
 

JIrish

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Joined
Apr 14, 2001
Posts
53
Same Time
Kyokugen-Ryu Dojo
Southtown, USA

A lone young man trains in the center of the dojo. A blackbelt in his style, he wears a simple orange gi. He goes through the motions of his exercises, punching and kicking the air with a finesse matched by few in the karate world. He jumps into the air with his fist extended, uppercutting with authority. When he lands, he then begins a spinning kick through the air, chanting the name of the move on the way. He lands from that, and with a shout, he gathers energy in his fist, and sends it forth in a burst of power.

He bows his head, and throws his arms out slightly to either side. “Oosu.”

Mostly satisfied with his practices, Ryo Sakazaki exits the dojo into the office of his father, Takuma. Once there, he’s greeted, in addition to Takuma himself, by a young girl in a pink long-sleeve shirt and jeans, and a man Ryo’s age with a ponytail, wearing black slacks, a matching black shirt, an expensive looking maroon vest and a gold medallion. The girl is his younger sister Yuri. The man is his friend, Robert Garcia. Takuma himself is wearing his usual white gi, as his “Mr. Karate” mask hangs above him on a mantle. On the desk is an open envelope with a broken red “R” seal on it.

“What’s that, Father?” asks Ryo.

“That,” Takuma replies with his gruff voice in it’s usual serious air, “is an invitation to represent Mexico in this years King of Fighters tournament. The host is apparently known only as ‘R’, and the tournament is a three-man team affair.”

“I’m guessing this might have something to do with my Dad’s company having some of it’s major offices there,” Robert ventures. “That’s the only reason I could think of as to why Mexico would want us to represent them in this tournament.”

“Interesting, Father. So I take it there will be a team to represent the Kyokugen-Ryu school?”

“Of course. You and Robert will be my partners in this endeavor.”

This does not set well with Yuri. “But father! I’ve been training my heart out over the past year! I want to see how good my skills are by fighting some new opponents! I’m ready for-“

“Oh, come on!” Ryo interrupts his sister. “The only skills you seem to posses are goofing off and making a fool out of yourself!”

“Why you overbearing big-“

“That’s enough, both of you,” Takuma interrupts authoritatively, to which Robert breathes a sigh of relief. “Yuri, maybe you are experienced enough for this tournament, but Ryo and Robert are my most advanced students in the school, and they are the best qualified to represent the dojo with me in this tournament. Is that understood, daughter?”

“Yes, father…” a dejected Yuri answers. She then sulks off on her own.

Takuma returns his attention to Robert and Ryo. “The two of you had better begin training soon for this tournament. I will not have the name Kyokugen-Ryu be associated with lazy slugs!”

“Yes, sensei,” both Robert and Ryo respond. They bow, and they both exit, where they find Yuri sitting next to the door.

“Happy, Ryo?”

“I’m not happy that you’re upset, Yuri,” Ryo replies. “I do seriously think you need to take fighting less lightly than you currently do. And you’re my only little sister. I hate seeing you get hurt.”

“I understand.”

Robert speaks up, smiling warmly at Yuri. “Hey, cheer up, Yuri. Your time will come eventually.”

Ryo glares at Robert, who immediately sobers up his look. Yuri gets the message, though.

“Thanks, Robert. I’ll leave you guys to train.”

Yuri gets up, and exits the dojo, to walk over to talk to a friend of hers… on her way, she overhears a conversation between a man with long blonde hair, and a voluptuous woman with reddish-brown hair.

“You mean you guys already have a third partner?” the woman says in surprise.

“I’m sorry, Mai, but Terry and myself know Joe as a fighter better than anybody else. We also know we work best together,” says the man.

Yuri thinks nothing of it, as she walks towards her destination.
 
Joined
Apr 12, 2001
Posts
33
Nice imagery, nice writing... just nice overall. Can't wait to see what's planned for the USA sports team (if you're gonna write one for them, that is).

I haven't had the time to read all these stories, so I'm going back and checking 'em out now. Keep up the good work.
 

JIrish

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Joined
Apr 14, 2001
Posts
53
<font face="Verdana, Arial" size="2">Originally posted by EvilMattMUN:
Nice imagery, nice writing... just nice overall. Can't wait to see what's planned for the USA sports team (if you're gonna write one for them, that is).

I haven't had the time to read all these stories, so I'm going back and checking 'em out now. Keep up the good work.

You're going to hopefully like what I have in mind for the Sports Team. They will NOT suck here, I'll say that much.
 

JIrish

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Joined
Apr 14, 2001
Posts
53
That Night
King’s Palace Café.
Southtown, USA

It’s a quiet evening for King, as she relaxes with a shot of her favorite brandy. It’s a Tuesday, so it’s a slow night in her bar, with only a few quiet patrons. “If only every night could be this relaxing,” she thinks to herself, as she mulls over the invitation she had received that afternoon from an “R” individual.

Her respite is interrupted by a young girl who King immediately recognizes as Yuri Sakazaki. She walks right up to the bar, and over-dramatically pounds her fist on in. “Give me a drink, NOW!”

“Yuri, please, you’re underage!” King tries to reason with her, but Yuri doesn’t even flinch. “Look, I can give you a non-alcoholic cocktail, how about that?”

“Alright, whatever. Just so long as it tastes strong enough to get my mind off my dumb brother!”

“Problems with Ryo? What’s going on?”

Yuri sighs. “Dad got an invitation to this years King of Fighters tournament. It’s three on three this year, and Ryo wouldn’t let me on the team. He says I’m not serious enough! I am so serious!”

“That sounds familiar,” says a woman just walking in the door. Yuri recognizes her as the one she overheard on her way to King’s. And both her and King recognize her, from her rather busty figure, as Mai Shiranui, the ninja fighter who participated in the last King of Fighters tournament. Mai takes a stool at the bar between Yuri and King. “Andy told me just a little while ago that I couldn’t be on his team since they already picked Joe Higashi.”

“Let me guess,” King ventures as she mixes Yuri’s drink. “Andy is as stonewalled as ever towards you and your affections for him.”

Mai only nods, holding back a tear. At this point, Yuri recognizes the envelope on the other side of the bar as being another invitation to the KOF tournament, this one with “England” inscribed on it.

“Hey!” Yuri exclaims at King. “That’s an invitation! You got one too, King?”

This breaks Mai’s depression. “An invitation?!”

“A chance to show up my stupid brother,” Yuri thinks…

“A chance to finally impress Andy,” Mai thinks…

Almost immediately the two start arguing over who King will take as her partner. Not amused by this in the least, King shouts out quickly, “QUIET! BOTH OF YOU!!!” They shut up. “Alright, if the two of you are going to be so insistent on being in this tournament, then you can both be my partners. But you two have to be serious! I do not want to lost this thing because one of you is distracted!”

“I’ll be serious! I promise!” Yuri says quickly.

“You can count on me, King!” Mai adds.

“So be it, then. Let’s meet here tomorrow afternoon at 1 PM so we can begin to discuss our strategies.”

Mai and Yuri agree, and they both exit the bar, buzzing with excitement. King, however, just shakes her head.

“Great. I have a busty bimbo and an overeager kid for partners. I wonder if I’m going to regret this…”
 

JIrish

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Apr 14, 2001
Posts
53
The Next Day
Kyoto High School #3
Kyoto, Japan

“Ah, the rigors of maintaining such beauty…”

Benimaru Nikaido admires himself in the mirror, while he arranges his hair to it’s usual straight-up style. It’s a common sight around this area to see the blonde, half-American half-Japanese fighter making sure his hair is in place, or his earrings aren’t lopsided, or whatnot. It’s been said that he spends as much time fixing and admiring himself in the mirror as he does training, and he trains quite a bit.

Of course, all this primping and training does not equal success with the women in the slightest. For all the preparations he makes, Benimaru’s haughty air and smug belief in his own beauty in fact does more to turn off the women than his looks and grace to attract them. Still, he did manage to bring about a good crowd of hangers-on, and so long as he has the spotlight, all is right in the world of Benimaru Nikaido.

So when the spotlight goes away, things get ugly.

And today, Benimaru’s spotlight just went towards a new kid in town…

“WHAT?! You can’t be serious!’ Benimaru said to one of his “fans.”

“I’m serious, Benimaru! This guy is so handsome, he puts even you to shame!” retorted a now nervous young lady. “You should see this guy. I hear he’s a fighter, too.”

“Well, that’s just fine and dandy. Where is the upstart?”

“Over here! I’ll show you!”

Sure enough, there he was. He had dark hair, cut longish, but not shoulder length. He wore a leather jacket, a white shirt, dark pants, and a white headband. He was certainly handsome, Benimaru would give him that much. But this “upstart” student was not as handsome as Benimaru believed himself to be, and the very presumption that he could possibly be better looking practically made him mad!

After sizing him up, Benimaru decided to take the matter into his own hands…

“You there! Who do you think you are stealing my crowd away from me?!”

“Excuse me? Is there a problem here?” the new kid asked back.

“You heard me!” Benimaru returned forcefully. “Before you came around, I was the top dog. And I want my spot back! Let’s fight for it… whatever your name is!”

“It’s Kusanagi. Kyo Kusanagi to be exact. And I have no intentions of stealing your ‘crowd’, nor do I want to fight you over what you presume is an insult to you.”

“Oh, you’re really asking for it now, pal! Now I want to beat you just to shut your wise mouth up!”

Kyo shook his head in obvious frustration. “Very well. If you insist on fighting me, there will be a tournament tomorrow afternoon at Kyoto Sangyo University. It is being held to determine who shall represent Japan in a team fighting tournament to be held in the near future. If you are anywhere near as good as you think you are and if my own skills prove to be enough, which they should, you and I will likely meet under the tournament rules. We shall then see who is the better man amongst us…”

“Benimaru Nikaido. And I will be at the tournament, and I will humiliate you there!”

Benimaru storms off, while Kyo just stands there puzzled.

“How can one man think so much of himself?”
 

JIrish

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Joined
Apr 14, 2001
Posts
53
Same Time
Somewhere on the outskirts of Songnam
South Korea

Two very dejected men, one barely five feet tall and thin as a rail, wearing a simple hat, sunglasses, and suspenders over his green shirt, and one well over seven feet and very much overweight dressed in simple black, stand before a average-seeming but strong man in a white gi with blue trim.

Today, their torture continues.

For Choi Bounge (the small one) and Chang Koehan (the large one), life used to be so much fun. With Chang’s iron ball and Choi’s twin steel claw gloves, the two were the most feared criminal duo in all of South Korea. Only once had the duo as a team been caught, and they had managed to escape from that fate, to resume their wonderful criminal career. In fact, a few nights afterward, they were about to mug a woman with some expensive-looking jewelry when HE stepped into the picture. He seemed like nothing to the two hardened criminals…

Kim Kapwhan. They did not know he was a Tai Kwan Doe master. They did not know he had gone toe to toe with famous fighters like Terry Bogard. They did not know he was a frickin’ fanatical believer in justice, and he was going to make them his personal prisoners and try to rehabilitate them in his own fashion! They certainly did not know this when Chang wondered what such a puny man could do to the infamous duo of Chang and Choi, and he then proceeded to knock them right to the pavement, and single-handedly take them to his home.

That was a month ago. Since then, they have made a couple attempts at escaping this cruel fate for two successful criminals, but each time, something went wrong. Usually, it was Chang saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, and then Kim would quickly wise up, and give the two of them a piece of his mind with his scholarly feet, and they’d be right back at square one with this mad taskmaster who’s hell bent on making them honest men.

“Gentlemen,” Kim said to his two captives.

“Yes, Master Kim,” they say back, halfheartedly.

“I have good news. I have received an invitation to represent our fair country in this years King of Fighters tournament. I will be leading a team of three, and I’m sure the two of you can guess who will be my partners in this endeavour.”

“Us?” Chang asked.

“Of course, the two of you! In fact, I’m going to unlock your weapons right now so you can practice with them, in the event they are in fact allowed.”

Kim turns his back, and Choi whispers to Chang, “This could be our chance! We could be free men once again!”

“AND NO FUNNY STUFF! I’ll be keeping my eyes on the both of you for the time you will have your weapons! I may be optimistic about your rehabilitation, but I’m not stupid!”

“So much for that, then,” Choi whimpered.

Chang, however, was more optimistic. “Hey, cheer up, Choi! This might not be so bad. A fighting tournament, where we can use our weapons. This could be a good chance to at least cut loose a little and have some fun.”

Choi brightens up a little bit. “Yeah, that’s a good point, Chang. And maybe we might impress the life of the party over there enough that he’d let us go free again!”

“Even better, then!”

“But keep your yap shut about it!” Choi fires back quickly. “If we screw up again, it’s another meeting of foot and head for us.”

The two criminals go off towards Kim, who gives them their weapons, and they go out to train in the nearby woods in their own fashions; Choi slicing trees to ribbons, and Chang simply knocking them down.
 

JIrish

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Joined
Apr 14, 2001
Posts
53
Same Day, in the Afternoon
Gold’s Gym
Brooklyn, New York, USA

A muscular African-American man is working out on a weight machine in a well equipped gym in the best side of Brooklyn. His name is Daniel Knight, but all his friends call him Heavy D!. The gym is his, equipped and furnished with the money he saved for most of his life, mostly from prizefighting. Practically every minor-league boxing promoter, and even some major league ones, had pegged Heavy D! to be an eventual great in the boxing world, but for whatever reason, he never caught his big break. But he didn’t mind that, since Heavy D! figures he hasn’t yet reached the peak of his skills, anyway, and he’s content to be a neighborhood hero and role model.

Into the gym walks a large Caucasian wearing a beat-up football jersey. He seems to have a sour look on his face as he glances at Heavy D!, but he pays it no mind, since D! knows he’s always like that.

“What’s going on, Brian?” Heavy D! calls out to the man.

“Usual bull, Heavy. Nothing seems to be working out for me.”

No big surprise there, for D!. “Look, Brian, I hate seeing you falling on these hard times, man. And it all seems to stem from this aggressive streak of yours. Maybe we need to get you some hel-“

“I DON’T NEED NO STINKIN’ SHRINK TELLING ME TO BE SENSITIVE!!!”

“Okay, okay, jeez, man, scare away every customer I have, why don’t you?” Heavy D! quietly snaps back. He’s used to this; Brian Battler was thrown out of pro football for unnecessary roughness, which Brian took to mean that pro football players were soft.

“Sorry, Heavy. I’ll just go over to the heavy punching bag.”

“Yeah, you do that,” Heavy D! tells his friend. At least this way Brian can relieve some of that tension and be reasonably sociable. Just as Brian hits his first few punches, in walks a lanky young African-American dressed in the colors of the Los Angeles Lakers, complete with baseball cap, holding a basketball.

“Yo, Heavy D! What’s going on?”

“Well, Lucky Glauber! Long time, no see! What have you been doing?”

“Same as always, D!. Been practicing my fight both on the court and in the dojo. I think my little hybrid style might be ready for an amateur debut.”

Now Lucky was somebody Heavy D! could get along with easily. Lucky was probably the most easygoing guy he knows, and is one smart guy to boot. He could have easily been in Major League Basketball, but stardom isn’t quite Lucky’s thing. Besides, he has his own ambitions on the fighting circuit, where he wants to succeed on his own terms with his own style.

It was just then that Heavy D! remembered an invitation he received yesterday in the mail, which he decides to share with his friends. “Hey, Brian, come over here! I got something you might like!”

Brian lumbers over, and Heavy D! makes his pitch. “Listen, guys, I’m a good enough boxer. Brian, you love to crunch heads, and you’re good at it. Lucky, you have your own style, and it might be enough to catch people off guard. The three of us would make a natural team for this tournament!”

“I don’t know about this, D!” Lucky says. “King of Fighters has been some heady stuff in years past. That Terry Bogard guy is a freakin’ legend, and I’m sure he’ll have a team on this thing.”

“Aw, that lightweight prettyboy doesn’t have a chance against me!” Brian grunts back. “I’d make him into hamburger quicker than you ever could, Lucky!”

“Brian…” Heavy D! quickly warns his friend.

“I’m serious, D!! What can this telephone pole do that would be good to us?”

“Relax, Heavy, and take this.” Lucky pulls out his wallet, and hands Heavy D! a $100 bill. He then walks over to the punching bag Brian was pulverising a moment ago.

“What’s this for?”

“You’ll see. Woo hoo!” Lucky shouts has he jumps into the air, and kicks right through the punching bag, leaving sand all over the place. “You were saying, Brian?”

Brian just stands there, with his mouth gaping in awe. After he collects himself, he simply utters, “Not bad.”

“Pretty good, actually, if it gets a compliment out of Brian,” Heavy D! says. “But you’re cleaning up that mess, Lucky.”
 

JIrish

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Joined
Apr 14, 2001
Posts
53
That Evening
An undisclosed location
Brazil

“Well, we got the job done, but what the hell are we going to do about the chopper?”

Two men in matching military fatigues, save for one’s red bandanna and the other’s sunglasses and blue cap, are not in a particularly good mood. They stand in a lush rainforest, where before them is a wrecked military-issue helicopter. The rudders are torn off. The windshield is shattered beyond basic repair. The propellers are all but missing. And to cap it off, the thing is lodged between two old trees. It’s a grand old mess, when you get down to it. They left it in this small clearing where they thought it would be safe from vandals while they completed their mission, but they never exactly counted Mother Nature as a vandal.

The man in the red bandanna speaks up again. “Well, Clark, at least we have the money in the bank to get this stupid thing repaired, though getting it to a shop from here is going to be a real trick.”

Clark just nods, and walks over to see what is inside the helicopter that can be salvaged. The other joins him, halfheartedly, and in a few moments they find the one silver lining in what is a very dark cloud: the communications radio still works.

“Well, let’s hear it for minor miracles! Now we can contact Heidern and he can get us the hell out of here!” The one in the red bandanna selects the frequency that Heidern’s mercenary group uses. “Hello, anybody in range! This is Lieutenant Ralf Jones of the Ikari Warriors, and we need to get our helicopter unit out from this jungle for repairs. Over.”

“We read you, Ralf, and there is already a helicopter on it’s way to pick you guys up. It should be there in about an hour. Over,” the control center answers back.

“Really?” This took Ralf a little by surprise. “Alright, we copy. Over and out. Well, how about that? What do you suppose is the rush?”

Clark simply shrugs as he pulls out an equipment trunk. “Probably an urgent mission calling us.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it. It seems we’ll never be done with this work of ours, old buddy. Always some group being oppressed, or some country who needs a quick wetworks operation against some terrorist group who’s taken hold.”

Clark just keeps on working, and Ralf just chuckles. If ever he met somebody who could go for days without saying a word, it would probably be Clark. Not that it matters; the two had been working together for years now, and they both usually know what the other is thinking anyway. And at least Ralf knows his taciturn buddy is at least listening to him.

The two had salvaged all that was really usable in the helicopter by now, and it was only a half an hour longer until they finally saw and recognized their ride arriving.

“Hey, that’s Heidern’s personal chopper! This must be serious!” Ralf shouts over the propellers as the helicopter approaches the land. Once it hits the ground, a tall man in his mid 40’s, wearing a light brown commanders uniform with matching beret, and bearing an eye-patch on his left eye, walks out. He carries a commander’s baton with him, and his demeanor is grim.

“Commander Heidern!” Ralf and Clark salute simultaneously.

Heidern faintly smiles at his two top mercenaries. “At ease, gentlemen, and get in. What I have to tell you is of dire seriousness.”

They all climb in to a custom designed sound-proof chamber, and Heidern presents Ralf an envelope with a broken Red “R” seal with the word “Brazil” engraved above it.

Ralf looked it over, and was a little puzzled. “King of Fighters… teams of three… ‘R’? What’s this about, Commander?”

“That ‘R’ is Rugal Bernstein, a man who, as you know, I have a long, bitter history with. This,” he motions to the broken seal, “is his insignia.”

Immediately as Heidern says that name, Ralf and Clark very quickly become concerned. Heidern not only lost some of his best mercenaries trying to find Rugal, but his family as well. Heidern had taken every security measure he could think of to protect his loved ones. It was not enough to keep them safe in the end.

“We are entering this tournament, gentlemen. Together, we will finally put an end to this madman. Or I will die trying.”

[This message has been edited by JIrish (edited April 24, 2001).]
 

Goenitz2.0

n00b
Joined
Apr 18, 2001
Posts
39
Good stuff, thus far.

The only thing I have to say is about ages.
Here's the URL for a site with birthdays and DATES on it, which is what I use for references.
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Ginza/7551/bday_index.html

I believe Heidern ends up being something around 50 or 52 in KoF 98, so that puts him in his 40s around KoF 94.

Just a minor thing.

-Forrest "Of course, it doesn't help that everyone shaves 4 years off for KoF 2k" Walker

------------------
Goenitz2.0: Stronger, faster, and 1.5 times more alive than ever before.
 

JIrish

New Challenger
Joined
Apr 14, 2001
Posts
53
That Night
An Apartment Building Downtown
Kyoto, Japan

A young girl stands on the balcony of the apartment she and her family lives in. She closes her eyes, and lets the high winds blow her long, purple hair back. She inhales, and as she exhales, she opens her beautiful eyes to take in the Osaka skyline. For Athena Asamiya, hers is a life of excitement from which she seems to have finally found respite from, if only for a moment. Being a psychic crime fighter, after all, takes a lot out of a person, let alone a teenager still in high school.

And what a day in high school it was! That new kid, Kyo she thinks his name was, getting under the skin of that brat, Benimaru! Not that she was too surprised by this; Kyo was actually pretty attractive. But then Kyo brings up a tournament for who will be in the team representing Japan in some “King of Fighters” tournament, and when Athena gets home, she finds an invitation to represent China addressed right to her!

She guesses that whomever “R” is, he or she must have known about her partners. Sie Kensou and Chin Gentsai are natives of China who traveled to Japan, and eventually had to be rescued from some local street thug by Athena. Though the two were skilled fighters, they needed Athena’s help that day, and she decided to offer the two to become her sidekicks. Kensou couldn’t have been faster in accepting the offer, while old Chin just sort of followed along drinking his sake and smoking his pipe. Eventually he became as much a mentor to Athena as Athena was a leader for him. In fact, it was Chin who taught Athena so much about the principles of fighting, and she owes him a lot for that. And when Kensou developed his own psychic powers to a level similar to Athena’s own, the trio soon became known as the “Psycho Soldiers!” They fought crime all over Japan and China with their impressive fighting abilities, ranging from your average mob bosses to more… esoteric adversaries.

Once Athena had told her friends about this tournament, they were both very excited. Chin had competed professionally for a while in his prime, and would love the chance to give it another go in spite of his age. Kensou, meanwhile, wanted very much to impress Athena, when she really doesn’t seem to be interested in the boy. But no matter how many times she instills this in Kensou’s head, and no matter how forcefully or nicely (depending on her mood) she does it, he never seems to give up!

Still, these two are probably the best partners Athena could ask for, since she knows and loves them with all her heart. Tomorrow afternoon, the three of them will travel to China to make their final preparations for the King of Fighters tournament. The promise of the new day fills Athena with excitement, but for now, she must go to bed and rest for the many long days that no doubt lie ahead of her…
 

JIrish

New Challenger
Joined
Apr 14, 2001
Posts
53
The Next Day
Koyama Stadium Complex, Kyoto Sangyo University
Kyoto, Japan

In the large athletics complex of Kyoto Sangyo University, the tournament to determine which three fighters shall represent Japan in the King of Fighters tournament will be held on this day. Though anybody who thinks they can succeed can enter, several fighters prolific in their styles have been specifically invited to this tournament. One such fighter is Goro Daimon. This large, imposing man looms over quite a few of the men and women who hope to win a spot on the Japan Team. Daimon is a multi-time National Judo Champion, who eventually retired from Judo competition, since he felt he had nothing left to prove in that arena, and wanted to test his might against fighters of other disciplines. And today will be one of his greatest tests.

Daimon enters the complex, and after signing in at the desk, he scans the crowd to take in the competition. He notices a former Muitai champion, Hwa Jai, who’s still drinking out of that old jug. Ryuhaku Todo is also back in the country for this tournament. And over in the corner, wearing a simple red blouse and long black skirt, and talking to a young man in a leather jacket, is Shizuka Kusanagi, an old friend. Daimon decides to approach her and catch up on old times.

“Greetings, Shizuka Kusanagi! How is Saisyu? Who is this young man you have with you today? Is that Kyo?” Daimon asks as he approaches Shizuka, who immediately recognizes his booming voice.

“Greetings, Goro. It’s been a long time since we’ve talked. So long, in fact, it’s no wonder you don’t recognise Kyo. Saisyu is away on a journey, so I’m here in his place to be in Kyo’s corner.”

Daimon wasn’t sure at first whether the young man was in fact the boy he knew so many years ago, but Shizuka’s words were more than enough for him. “Kyo! I haven’t seen you since you were five years old! You seem to have grown into a strong young man!”

Kyo smiles at the compliment. “Thank you, Mr. Daimon, coming from the National Judo Champion that’s quite flattering. So-“

Kyo is interrupted by the blaring public address system. “Attention all participants. The brackets for the tournament have been posted. Competitions shall begin in one hour. That is all.”

Kyo, Daimon and Shizuka go over to the bulletin boards where the brackets have been posted. And there they also find Benimaru, wearing a single-shouldered, sleeveless black shirt and light pants. Benimaru quickly notices Kyo. “You’re lucky, Kusanagi. We’re in separate brackets, so you’d have to get to the finals if we’re to settle this score. Too bad you’re probably not skillful enough to make it.”

“We’ll see about that, Benimaru,” Kyo calmly says back. “Good luck.”

“You’ll need it more than me, Kusanagi!” With that, Benimaru goes off on his own.

“Who was that man?” asks Daimon, confused at what just happened.

“That was Benimaru Nikaido,” Kyo answered back. “He’s come hotheaded egomaniac who thinks I’m taking away from his popularity at school.”

Daimon nods. “Ah, jealousy over such a petty matter. Youth can be so easily ruffled over such simple matters.”

“’Ruffled’ is hardly the word I’d use, Daimon,” Shizuka says. “This man seems to think his very position is being jeopardized by Kyo. Anyhow, if you will excuse me, I’m going to look for something to drink.”

As Shizuka searches for liquid refreshment, she overhears a conversation between two of today’s tournament’s officials.

“So, have you heard from our sponsor?”

“He said to have the final list of the Japan Team’s members wired to him at this frequency.”

Shizuka pays it no mind at this time, but she has no idea that the host of the tournament is the very man her husband is searching for…
 

JIrish

New Challenger
Joined
Apr 14, 2001
Posts
53
Beijing, China

“Well, we made it! Looks like a decent place, too,” Athena observes to Chin as they exit the airport while Kensou waits for their luggage to come off the conveyer belt.

Chin looks through his ratty gray hair. “Oh, yes, it’s very nice. Though it’s been a little while since I’ve been in town. What is keeping Kensou?” he asks nervously.

“You’re just asking that because they wouldn’t let you bring your sake jug with you on the plane as a carry-on,” Athena scolded him.

“Exactly! I’m thirsty here!”

Athena shakes her head at that, but she knows better than to stand too close between Chin and his sake. Besides, Kensou was just turning the corner with all of their bags and equipment.

“Alright, here’s everythi-“

“GIMMIE THAT!” Chin rips his bag from Kensou’s hands, and rummages through it with alarming speed. He quickly finds what he’s looking for, an old, hardened wine skin he uses for sake. He takes off the cap, and takes a few loud swallows. “Alright, let’s go!”

Chin starts walking, while Kensou gives Athena a worried look. She simply shrugs at him, and the two Psycho Soldiers start walking after him.

Venice, Italy

Terry, Andy and Duck get off the plane and into the airport, where they’re expecting to run into Joe Higashi in a little while.

“I still don’t see why you insisted on coming along, Duck,” Terry inquired.

“Hey, even if I’m not on the team, I wouldn’t miss this for the world! I hardly got the chance to look around in Italy when I was last here, and I’d love to see the sights. The Leaning Tower, The Coliseum, Tung Fue Rue…” That last one didn’t strike him as Italian. “Wait a second! Tung Fue Rue?!”

Sure enough, just as Duck King said that name, he had passed it’s bearer: an small, old bald man with a gray beard and moustache wearing what looked to be teal pajamas.

“Master Tung!” Terry and Andy put their right fists to their left palms, a martial arts salute, out of respect for the man who had trained their late father in the Happiosaken style of martial arts. “We’re both glad to see you here!” Terry adds.

Tung smiles through his wiskers. “I am glad to have come to support you two. This new King of Fighters tournament is certainly an exciting prospect, and I’m sure you will do well. But where is Mr. Higashi?”

“His plane should be here in a couple minutes,” Andy answers.

“Actually it was early,” a familiar voice shouts out from down the hall. It’s Joe Higashi, a Japanese-born man, with a white headband with red circle just under his straight-up brown hair. He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt and beige shorts.

“Joe!” Terry, Andy and Duck all shout back at him. Joe quickens his pace to catch up as the three head over towards him.

“So,” Joe asks his longtime running mates, “ how are you guys doing? Are the Lone Wolves ready to bust some heads again?”

“Oh, Terry’s ready,” Duck answers for Terry. “I got the bruise on my face to prove it.” He points out the spot where Terry connected with that Rising Tackle.

“OW! That must still sting, Duck! So, who else is about?”

The four return over to Tung, as they catch up on old times and discuss strategy…

London, England

King, Mai and Yuri have been in England for about an hour, and they couldn’t be more disoriented. At least, Yuri couldn’t.

“What’s the matter, Yuri? You’ve been anxious since we got off the plane,” a concerned Mai asks her partner.

Yuri sighs. “I dunno. I’ve just never been to England before, and this place is kind of overwhelming. The people may be speaking English, but I just can’t comprehend a word most of them are saying!”

King places a hand on her shoulder. “Relax, Yuri. Me and Mai have both been here before, and we’ll be more than happy to help you around. I’ll admit, Kings English can be a little tricky when you’re used to American English, even as a second language. So, anyhow, we know two of the teams who are in this thing. What can we expect in case we meet either of them?”

“Well,” Mai starts, “for Andy on the Fatal Fury team, he’s got a good energy attack called a Hishoken. His Shoryudan is a rising uppercut type move where he becomes a whirlwind, spinning up while extending his muscular arms. Also, his Kuhadan, which is a flying kick where he spirals gracefully into the air…” Mai just sighs and stares into space. “Where was I?”

“Yuri,” King turns to her other partner, “promise me you won’t zone out like that over Robert, alright?”

Yuri laughs. “Okay, I’ll try.”

Mai is quick to protest. “Aw, c’mon, you two! I can’t help it if I think Andy’s so handsome!”

“We know, Mai, but we can’t get distracted. It could cost us the match,” King reminds her. “Besides, we want to be taken seriously as equals in a man’s world here, right?” Both Yuri and Mai nod. “Then we have to prove we won’t act like brainless bimbos when it’s time to get serious. That’s the only way women will be taken seriously in the fighting world; we have to be able to break the stereotypes.”

“I see what you’re saying! But,” Mai gets a little worried. “You’ve seen my regular fighting outfit, right?”

“Yeah. What do you mean?”

“Does playing up the stereotype to catch a guy off-guard count as a bad thing?”

King laughs. “Hardly, Mai. In fact, it might give us a slight advantage.”

Southtown, USA

Ryo grabs the mail, and notices a letter in a security envelope addressed from Mexico City. “Hey, Father! You might want to take a look at this!”

Takuma and Robert both stop their training and come into office of the dojo to see what’s up. Ryo quickly scans over the letter. “It seems we won’t have to travel to Mexico after all. A couple members of the Mexican Senate are coming here to Southtown.”

Takuma holds his chin in thought. “Is that so? Well, at least we’ll be able to have the hometown advantage in this case, if our first round is in fact here.”

“Yeah, that is good news,” Robert concurs. “But still, where are we going to host our home fights? The dojo isn’t much as far as having an audience goes, especially if we’re trying to impress foreign politicians.”

“Good point,” Ryo says. “Let’s see… South Beech is out, since we don’t want bad weather getting in the way… what about the Pao Pao Café?”

“You mean Richard Meyer’s place?” Robert snaps his fingers and points at Ryo in agreement. “That would work perfectly for us. It’s certainly big enough for fights to be held at, and the food and service there isn’t bad, either. I’ll call him now to see how much he’ll want to rent it out when we need it.”

Takuma calls after Robert. “Don’t forget, you can use the dojo’s funds for this!”

“Oh, relax! I’ll front it,” Robert shouted back. Ryo just shakes his head. Even though he’s less the spoiled rich kid since he joined the dojo all those years ago, Robert still loves to flaunt his wealth when the opportunity arises. He loves expensive cars, expensive hotels, expensive restaurants, and so on. It seems whatever Robert wants, he can get with only a minimum of trouble. Of course, it’s no secret he and Yuri are very much in love, but Ryo quickly puts that thought from his head. His best friend and his sister… he just does not even want to think of it…

[ May 15, 2001: Message edited by: JIrish ]
 

Tekyo

Tarma's Gun Polisher
Joined
Apr 20, 2001
Posts
107
Continue Dude
 

ThePunisher

SouthTown StreetSweeper
Joined
Jun 5, 2001
Posts
1,080
That's great JIrish!! You should continue. as EvilMattMUN said you write well!! <IMG SRC="smilies/glee.gif" border="0"> <IMG SRC="smilies/glee.gif" border="0">
 

ThePunisher

SouthTown StreetSweeper
Joined
Jun 5, 2001
Posts
1,080
Oh man I guess you're not doing any more I really liked em you're a great writer. <IMG SRC="smilies/ohno.gif" border="0"> <IMG SRC="smilies/ohno.gif" border="0"> <IMG SRC="smilies/crying.gif" border="0"> <IMG SRC="smilies/frown.gif" border="0"> <IMG SRC="smilies/frown.gif" border="0"> <IMG SRC="smilies/crying.gif" border="0">
 
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