Blood and Fists story hour [Updated March 25]

“Hong Kong Knights, Part 3: Lessons”

Kata pulled up into the parking lot of the Enkai.

Despite the rain he was wearing only a black t-shirt, refusing to wear a jacket other than his Shinku Kobushi jacket which that bitch had ruined the night before. Weaving through the Lincolns and Cadillacs waiting for valet parking, he pulled his bike around back, pausing briefly to meet the gaze of a hard-eyed teppodama holding a barely concealed Uzi under a rain-slicked trenchcoat. He stopped at the door before another guard, one seemingly cut from the same block of granite as the one who guarded the entryway to the rear parking area and stated his business, “I need to see Mr. Takamitsu.”

The guard just grunted and knocked on the door. It opened into a small room where three more guards stood at the ready. One of the guards went deeper into the labyrinth that made up the back of the Enkai while Kata waited in silence, shivering in the air conditioned club.


Shogu stood motionless in the dimly lit room. His vision narrowed until he saw nothing other than his target. The sound of his breathing became the only sound, it’s measured beat like a metronome to a dance inside his heart. His katana was tucked into his belt the way the ancient Iaijutsu masters wore their blades. The metronome quickened, and with a Kiai he began to run. At the last possible instant he drew his sword. Like lightning the blade arched over his head and came crashing down on his target, the arm of a headless corpse stretched out on a table, severing meat and bone cleanly. In an instant he had cleaned his blade and resheathed it. Only after he had turned his back did a servant scurry from the darkness on the far side of the room and retrieve the severed arm, ferrying it into away. Shogo turned and stood motionless, once again facing his target.

The door behind him opened and Kata slipped in. He crossed his wrists behind his back and lowered his gaze, waiting in silence. After a moment Shogu turned to face the boy. “Where is your jacket, Kata?”

Kata stood completely still, never raising his eyes to look at his superior, “There has been a problem, Oyabun. I need guns…”

The backhanded smack rocked Kata back on his heels. He kept his arms crossed behind his back, his gaze lowered.

“You have all that you need Kata. You and your bosozuku must maintain a low profile until we have established ourselves here. You assured me you could do this. You have all that you need. If you cannot cement control of the streets, I will find someone who can.”

Kata nodded, remaining motionless as Shogu talked momentarily with a servant, who scurried quickly into the darkness and returned.

He handed Kata a small knife with a string tied around it.

“Now go.”
 

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Max sat on the balcony, watching the sun come up. He took a long drink of strong coffee and wished he had a cigarette. He didn’t turn as the door slid open behind him, but held his cup over his shoulder. Brianna took it and slipped one arm around Max’s waist. After taking a drink she handed it back, then rested her chin on his shoulder, watching the sun come up over the harbor with him.

Finally Brianna broke the silence, “So what’s on the itinerary today?”

“I was thinking Lantau island.”

“Thinking of exploring Buddhism?”

Max chuckled, “I’m starving. I wonder if we can find Dim Sum this early. Let’s hit the Soho district and then catch a ferry.”

Brianna arched her back, listening to it crack, “Sounds good. Mind telling me what’s been on your mind lately? You’re not usually so quiet.”

Max turned around, regarding her intently. “I invited your father to join us. I wanted to let him know.”

Brianna stiffened slightly, “It’s not exactly safe for him to be here.”

She got flustered as Max laughed, then suddenly became serious, “I was thinking it would be easier to tell him if we could also tell him we were engaged.”

Brianna studied him for a moment, frowning, “You know that might be the worst proposal I have ever heard.”

Max laughed, “Well I’ll bow to your wisdom on that. You’ve obviously gotten more proposals than I’ve given… ow!!!”

Max stood on one leg, cursing. Now it was Brianna’s turn to laugh, “Sometimes the first shot does land. All right you sexist oaf. You can marry me. And you can ask my father for my hand like it’s the eighteenth century too.”

Max growled, cursing under his breath, “That is not why I invited… ow!!!”

v

Kimiko stood, watching critically as her students went through their kata.

“Technique is everything. Concentrate on your breathing. Let it become your entire world.”

Looking at the pictures on the walls above the mirrors that ringed the dojo, she remembered someone else saying those exact words so long ago.

From outside she heard motorcycles, a lot of them, roaring to a stop in front of the dojo. She tapped Ari on the arm, “Go call the police. Now.”

Tucking her father’s sword into her belt, Kimiko hurried the younger students into her office. She opened a small glass case, handing some of the older students the small assortment of traditional weapons she had on hand: Sai, Jutte, Nunchaku.

Boy after boy filed into the dojo, all wearing red silk jackets. On the back, in black, a fist with a dragon wrapped around it. She allowed herself a slight smile as she noticed not a single of the boys were armed. At least her demonstration had done some good.

v

Katsumoto quickened his pace as he saw the motorcycles stop in front of the tiny nondescript building. He had a sense about some things, and he felt like the building getting all the attention was his destination. Hong Kong had never been a safe or boring place for the old man to visit. He counted the bikes and frowned. Fourteen.

As he neared the door he could hear the sounds of battle from inside. He glanced through the glass door, seeing one boy in a red jacket standing guard. Glimpses of the chaos inside told the old man all he needed to know about what was happening inside.

He opened the door and grabbed the boy by the hair, pulling him into the street. A sharp chop to the neck and the boy was unconscious. Steeling himself, Katsumoto brought his heel down hard, breaking the boy’s ankle.

The old man then reached into his duffle bag and pulled out a rope woven of horsehair. At either end of the rope was a stone weight the size his fist. The old man then slipped inside the tiny dojo like a ghost.

v

Kimiko winced as another of her students went down. Only two of the thugs were down. They were much more ready for a real fight than these children, some of whom had only had a few lessons, and it was showing. Several of the thugs also had knives. Despite her threat, she would only unsheathe her blade as a last resort. Silently, Kimiko hoped against hope that the police arrived before she reached that point.

Ari waited, trying to focus on the sound of his breathing as one of the Crimson Fists approached him, grinning devilishly as he waved his switchblade, cutting the air with it as he approached. Ari steeled himself, preparing to strike, as a look of confusion came over the boy’s face. Suddenly he toppled over backwards. Only when an old man Ari had never seen before sent the boy into an unconscious oblivion did Ari notice the small black cord around his neck.

Several of the thugs were down in seconds after that. The thugs could no longer concentrate solely on Kimiko, and every time they focus on her or the old man, the other seemed to be behind them, sending another of the Fists crumpling to the matt. It was a ballet of destruction Ari would remember to the end of his days, beautiful in its savage simplicity.

At the sound of sirens approaching in the distance, the remaining few thugs broke and ran. The old man caught one around the ankle on the edge of the doorway, snatching him back inside. Katsumoto sat him against one of the mirrored walls while Kimiko talked to the police.
 

Great stuff Vig. I'm lovin' the martial arts goodness.


We recently had a martial arts showdown in a side campaign we've been doing, BnF style. It was absolutely fantastic. We made a quick house rule that every time someone attacked with a BnF feat they had to announce their next martial arts move wuxia film style (we are doing a cheesy 80's cop movie one-off called Action Squad); things were going pretty well until we got to the Burning Crabs Slap countered by Monkey Jumps on the Coconuts :eek:

Well then it just got silly ;)
 


Money? You mean you can actually make money doing this?

We have always known you had a wonderful imagination, but don't you think this is taking it a bit too far?

[Starts counting pennies to figure out how long must save to buy next new vigilance product]

zen
 

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