Description: Amy meets Mimiru Kasagi at the point where the throe of nature's wrath laps at the fragile shore of man's dominion. She asks for a display of conviction, of power, and receives exactly that. From this unlikely origin, from an even more unlikely union, the ingredients come together. Light and dark, humility and pride, technique and power... in the balance of all these things may be found the power to change the world.
Sound Beach. The ocean's swell laps at the outer limits some way from the eerily-quiet boardwalk, like the frothing breath of some titan within the deep. Clad in casual garb - a navy hoodie, baggy gym pants, and battered Doc Marten's - Amy Johnson steps out onto the slumbering tourist attraction and looks out across... nothing.
The sands shift beneath the Templar's feet. Stormy blue eyes regard the distant waves upon the horizon with a fullness of passion she finds unreachable in warmer, busier months, the relative solitude induced by the climate keeping all but the most bundled-up dog-walker and determined athlete at bay. It's in places like this that she finds cities most beautiful, where civilization yields and nature asserts her dominion over the Earth. God's hand can be glimpsed in everything, and yet to most? Truly, nothing to see. It's the perfect place to be tested, and test in turn.
A simple text message sent to Mimiru, the younger woman who's already impressed her so much with her character and conviction, has invited a like-minded soul to join in precisely that activity; but with this done, Amy has defiantly left her cellphone back in the city limits. She can't be certain that she waits in vain. In truth, it almost doesn't matter; just being here is enough, smelling the salt-tinged air, reminding herself of who she is - why she pursues what she does. But there is, within the satisfaction of being, an impatience she can't deny. She's more than curious...
She wants to step further down this path. But she has to be sure of those she takes with her. In a sense, this is the second test, hubristic though it may be.
Breathing deep, Amy turns her gaze back over her shoulder. A hand lifts to toy with the loose ponytail striving to hold whipping strands of silky black from her face.
Only partially bidden, the mists of the Dragon's Breath surface in proximity to the Templar, inky-gray wisps coiling semi-visibly about her limbs and torso.
Is that a familiar figure she sees approaching?
Many things that cross Mimiru's mind often just come and go -- like some spasm in her brain that makes her want to try something new all the time, a brilliant idea she has to try out or a new hobby that lasts only a few moments. Fleeting bubbles in her brain that pops after a moment...
The one that involves vampires and supernatural stuff though? There were just too many exciting possibilities into all of it to actually go away, unlike the others. Mimiru craved the new experience and thrills, and this had to be amongst the rare things Mimiru hadn't tried to do in life... And now that it might be a possibility...
Once she saw the text message from Amy, Mimiru's lips curled into a wide grin. Time to go out for a little jog with her dog so she can meet up with her. Clad in her leather jacket and earmuffs, Mimiru is sprinting along the beach's sidewalk. The woman didn't seem to mind the potential ice on the pavement, as if she was used to jogging during the winter.
Once Mimiru draws closer to Amy, she gives her a wave and she slows down. The dog followed Mimiru without a leash on, by her side, running like it knew exactly where Mimiru was going. He slows down as well as she does, "Oh, heh! Dame Amy!" Mimiru says, a wide grin on her lips, as if she took pleasure to call her Dame Amy. It amused her, or rather, the thought of her potentially being called Dame Mimiru amused her even more.
"You called me? For secret meeting? Want me to snuff Alma in his sleep 'cause he turned into an evil vampire or something? I mean, it'd be a shame but... If it has to come to that..." It's hard to know with her intonation whether she's joking or not... Probably the former.
It's what this place, this setting, reminds Amy of: that the world is there for the taking, unyielding and utterly unflinching. The hard and the soft, the cruel and the lovely, all the flavours of life presented for the bold and brave to seize. For all she's done and seen, for all she is and might come to be, that urge for excitement is never far away - it only grows with time and experience, all-consuming...
She may not be psychic, but the Templar senses the same spirit within Mimiru.
Once she's certain of the approaching figure - figures, she corrects with a small but relaxed smile, her initial reticence to coming at odds with the big Bernese fading fast - the older woman's hand throws a wave in turn. It's a slow, cool gesture, more quiet acknowledgement than furious wrist-action. And then she's being referred to by that very formal title. On the lips of Mimiru Kasagi, it sounds... not wrong, but different. She has to relinquish the urge to flinch, and breathes a laugh as much at herself as the boisterous pink-haired girl. Girl, indeed; for all her womanly attributes, it's hard to think of the Southtown native as anything but. She embodies youth.
It's spoken with a thoughtful warmth that even touches those oceanic eyes, and the words that follow spark the mischievous enthusiasm within the lady knight. Her smile emerges anew, tugging without effort to a crooked grin paralleled in the arch of a dark eyebrow. Amy doesn't blush visibly, but there's a telltale heat in her breast.
"Please, let's not talk about the things we'd do to Alma in his sleep..."
She lets that hang with another peal of laughter that's far more vocal, a subtle toss of her head phrasing both her own devilish side and a mote of embarrassment - she is, in many ways, entirely at odds with herself. The devout Warrior of God, and the eternally-teasing wild child beneath. She and Miss Kasagi aren't quite so different.
The mist continues to billow subtly, building slowly along the sands around the Templar's heavy boots, intensifying with the emotions of its mistress.
"No, I called you here for a couple of reasons. One; because it's absolutely beautiful," she looks upward, exhaling a fog of steamy breath unto the seawinds. It's cold, and the lightweight hoodie seems to be ample covering for Amy. She revels in it. "And two," she cants her gaze back to Mimiru and brings her hands together, stretching out her digits and flexing her palms. Limbering up. "Because I want you to come at me with everything that you have. I want to feel your passion. I need to know that, if we stand together, I can match you and complement you. That you can do the same for me."
A shadow dances across stormy eyes, a shadow falling beneath great light.
"There's no greater bravery than facing a friend with the totality of your being."
The blush on Amy's cheeks and her retort makes her laugh. She rests her hands on her waist, a wicked smile spreading on her lips. She glances at Amy, her smile widening as she says, "Oh, Dame Amy," She shakes her head slowly, "Such naughty thoughts," She lifts her hand up and wiggle a finger back and forth, "Bad, bad girl... Tsss," She scolds teasingly.
Considering her titles, Mimiru would have expected Amy to be more stuck-up and stern, but it seems she had misjudged Amy. Which is only for the better. After all, Mimiru tends to make people rather uneasy with her questionnable sense of humor. Mimiru hums thoughtfully and she arches a brow, "Hum... Though a Succubus disguised as an Holy Knight... Wicked..."
The pinl haired girl shakes her head at the thought, focusing on the matter at hand and why Amy summoned her here. Lips curling into a smile, Mimiru glances off into the distance, into the sea, "Yeah..." With all the landscape Mimiru had seen across the world, the beaches in Southtown were far from the most beautiful sight she had seen. Though probably the best natural spot in Southtown.
Mimiru arches a brow and she glances back at Amy, "What? You're asking for an ass kicking?" She grins at the thought, waving her hand up dismissingly, "Very well!"
Mimiru slides into her combat stance -- the dog with her instinctively moves away from Mimiru, backing up. She grins confidently at her and then aslks, "You ready?" Though Mimiru doesn't wait for an answer, she lunges at Amy, flames flaring up around her forearms. She lifts them up and swings them roughly at Amy, sending a cross-shaped wave of flame at Amy.
COMBATSYS: Mimiru has started a fight here.
COMBATSYS: Amy has joined the fight here.
COMBATSYS: Amy slows Balefire from Mimiru with Ophidian Snare.
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Mimiru 0/-------/-------|===----\-------\0 Amy
There's beauty everywhere, in all things, but it's in the cold solitude of harsh abandonment that Amy finds the deepest resonance; where God's love appears to retreat, begs to be found in the vestige of its own undying spirit. She couldn't think of a better environment to plead for Mimiru's strength to be shown. The way the sand moves so treachorously, betraying even the nimblest of combatants, it's a test for body and soul both - and one to which, here and now, the pink-haired girl rises admirably.
"Look hard enough, and there's evil here too," murmurs the Templar, the brief distraction of channelling her copious energies overwhelming the crisp clarity of her distinctly British tone. "Let your guard down for an instant--"
Suddenly, she's moving to meet her quirky friend-turned-foe, athletic form bending with the motion of a whipcrack, carrying her through a three-sixty spin that sees a rising hand lead the way. Her fingertips cleave through the opening volley of crimson shear, parting Mimiru's wave as the Dragon's Breath hums roaring defiance beneath the salty winds. A looping tendrils bursts forth from the aether, setting off a chain-reaction of sympathetic mist. It settles in the air to either side of the remaining Balefire, which continues on to smash against the Templar's toned flank.
It comes out in a pained hiss, as Amy plants her Dr. Marten's firmly, sand spraying into the smoothly-spreading fog. The summoned finger of the Templar's own chi falls short of Mimiru, flicking upward in vain even as it drifts toward the worn grit of the beach. The lady knight stills with a heavy breath, stormy blue eyes lidding and then opening wide to focus with a brisk renewal of heart upon her bold opponent.
Flame still clings to her arm and shoulder, the semi-illusive smoulder lighting the dark fabric of her hooded jacket. But her stance is fixed, defensive yet subtly yielding, as if the glancing shot has done nothing but awaken her instincts.
"At every turn you impress me," she states plainly, beckoning just once with an open hand, "Show me more."
With a wide grin, Mimiru regains her composure, both hands at her side, "There's plenty more from where that came from!" Mimiru shouts back at Amy, "And we're just getting started, ahah," She adds, a challenging grin growing on her lips.
If Amy is anything like her, she's not going to stop until she's unable to move -- if not... Well, she'll just have to beg for mercy for this to stop, she supposes! "Very well! Prepare to have a taste of my crimson flames!"
Mimiru moves closer to Amy and she focuses on her chi. She lets a loud scream out of her throat, as if to empower this attack : flames start dancing and rising around Mimiru, a torrent of flames swirling and circling around of her, quickly rising like an infernal tornado. She got just close enough to Amy to hopefully catch her into the blazing inferno. It lasts only a few seconds, enough to cover up all of Mimiru until the flames rise up way over Mimiru and vanish almost as abruptly as they appeared.
COMBATSYS: Amy interrupts Defiance from Mimiru with Wyrm Waker.
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Mimiru 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Amy
"I'd hope for nothing less."
Amy's voice, projected with the slightest motions of her drawn lips, seems almost to billow through the spreading mist and intensify by so doing. Echoing through her impressive aura, it carries a weight of purpose and a depth of passion beyond the often cool and enigmatic exterior exhibited by the Templar. It tells Mimiru the inevitable answer to her unspoken assumption-- neither fighter is taking this lightly.
As the pink-haired girl approaches anew, her would-be comrade-in-arms doesn't shift remotely - at least around the torso and arms, her guard remaining loose and light if unquestionably present. She doesn't answer the yell verbally, instead sliding a foot through the sand to point her toes at the cityscape lying beyond. Flames rise to consume Mimiru, and Amy just watches, the reflected fire dancing in her eyes; it's a compelling sight and an even more breathtaking feeling imparted unto the Templar, who only relaxes further when the bloom seeks to immerse her in its fury. It burns, yes...
But so does she.
Sweeping into the extended foot, she half-turns, loose strands of her silky black hair billowing in the firestorm and her clothing suddenly confining against the heat. But heat relaxes muscles, and she thrives on that fact; the nature of her style is inherently soft, yielding like water only to crash like a wave, and it's this she uses to extinguish the fervent blaze of the younger woman's spirit. A hand strays through the energetic barrier, looping beneath Mimiru's chin and then around behind her neck. A quick tug off-balances the lunging girl, and then the palm turns up and outward.
"You're bold," she interjects, words coming hard now through the pain and the wild pumping of adrenaline, her other hand grabbing the back of Mimiru's head and entire body now bending like a reed. Twisting until she stands alongside her bidden challenger, Amy twists her forearms through a drum-beating motion, barely gripping onto the skull - she just needs to use the gathered momentum...
...to send Mimiru head over heels to a crashing finish in the sand. Or so it would seem; the next moment may be a blur, as the spreading mists suddenly coalesce into twin, phantom-like limbs that surge through an identical motion to Amy's arms, roaring upward and then down with a blistering fury to smash Mimiru into the gritty ground.
"But we reap what we sow." It sounds almost cruel, if not for the breathless edge and the heaving of Amy's breast as she straightens up and takes a sliding, carefully-balanced step back through the shifting sands. The humour creeps back in as she steals a moment to push strands of hair from her eyes, that hand falling easily back into its afore-stationed guardianship. "An eye for an eye, I think?"
Behind her, around her, the mist is thickening. It's happened so gradually, and in rhythm with the Knight Officer's actions, that it's hard to remember when it became so dense...
Mimiru's fighting style was inherently opposed to Amy's own. It felt like it lacked any technique, her flames were wild, untamed, burning fiercely like the fire of passion itself. The waves Amy uses to quench the blazing inferno Mimiru manifested, while similar, had a whole different feel to it. A serene force of nature that can be gentle yet incredibly unforgiving and powerful.
In the end, Amy's focus and calm, manifested through the powerful waves are enough to snuff the burning flames that were created by Mimiru's burning spirit. The girl's eyes widen in surprise at how Amy managed to dismiss her attack, leaving her vulnerable in the midst of her own quenched inferno.
It all happens in a flash : keen pain courses through her forearm and Mimiru's body spins as she's taken down into the sand. She growls a bit in pain, but the true onslaught happens when she's squirming on the ground, unable to shield herself from the onslaught of blows that occurs to her midsection.
When it finally ends, Mimiru feels the pain echoes through her body. She squirms slowly back on her feet, staggering a bit as she recovers from Amy's technique. She is panting loudly from the fatigue and exertition, but Mimiru seems to draw into her inner reserve and vigor to reduce her fatigue, a wide grin growing on her lips, "Now we're talking... Nothing like a good little rush of adrenaline..." Mimiru says.
"It'll take a lot more than that to take me down..." Mimiru regains her composure and she adds, "Bold, reckless, relentless... Kasagis are like cockroach -- you don't get rid of us easy... I'm gonna give you one hell of a rough time!"
Mimiru lunges at Amy once more, taking the offensive, giving her no quarter. Flames erupt from her right leg as she swings it for Amy's midsection with a loud "Kyaaaa!" The flames empower her kick, and should it connect Mimiru quickly follows with a powerful hammer blow with both of her hands atop of Amy's head to knock her down.
COMBATSYS: Mimiru successfully hits Amy with Heaven's Diminisher.
- Power hit! -
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Mimiru 0/-------/--=====|=======\===----\1 Amy
The nature of battle has been, throughout Amy's life, an endless dichotomy - to stray toward caution and careful, exquisitely-timed technical know-how, or simply to drive forth with your all and seek to crush an opponent with sheer power. She has learned to hone the latter solely through mirroring her greater challenges; to defend, to seek an opening through allowing the foe to over-extend and make a critical error. Or many. That's the path to victory she has come to seek, and yet...
...in the face of enough fury, enough passion, it's a philosophy that can crumble.
Despite her words, Amy is not growing cocky - this has been at best an entanglement on equal terms, the two embodying their respective extremes so aptly that either could gain the upper hand. That she stands above Mimiru, however briefly, is only further proof of this fact: they are at odds, and in strange harmony. Yin and yang. She only sounds so confident because it's so encouraging, and because she fears so little.
She's wordless in the face of the next assault, a cool smile naturally spreading upon her countenance as she controls her breathing and strives to harness the mist around her. She knows what's coming - spotting the pattern in Mimiru Kasagi is no trick at all - and she's already felt the stinging punishment that the girl brings to bear.
It doesn't help. The Dragon's Breath surges around a mobile, 'x'-shaped guard as her forearms seek to ride the flaming kick and turn it aside. There's too much force behind it, though - more even than she bargained for - and Amy's guard is scattered to the seawinds along, momentarily afterward, with her breath and senses. She turns outward, because remaining within is too disorienting, and by instinct alone turns her eventual crashing fall into something less-than-final. It would be a knockout blow on so many, she's sure, the pink-haired spitfire proving she's FAR more than mouth and spirit.
Amy catches herself in ungainly, grounded acrobatics, kicking up a torrent of sand as she thrashes her limbs and bends her lithe, small-breasted frame once more, making a parachute roll against the beach before kipping-up to her feet with a gasp. Her stormy eyes are clouded and uncertain, not quite focusing on Mimiru as she calls, because it's the only thing she can think to say:
"What do you believe in, Mimiru Kasagi?"
It comes from her heart. It's something she needs to know. Knew she'd have to ask. As instinctive as it is, so too the thrumming note that runs through the mists of the Dragon's Breath. It's only grown denser as Amy is more vigorously challenged, and surges in furious synergy with the scattered motes of her own spirit. Looping unto itself, in the heartbeat prior to her speaking it has coalesced into a trio of hazy forms, which all scream as one toward Mimiru - one toward each flank, and another toward her back, eerie simulacrums of the Templar herself, forged from her distinctive chi and aiming to catch the younger woman in a simple, forthright rush.
In their path beyond her opponent, Amy raises her arms, eyes blazing once more.
"What makes you fight like this?"
COMBATSYS: Amy successfully hits Mimiru with Night Errant.
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Mimiru 1/-------/=======|=======\====---\1 Amy
So far, Mimiru's fighting style do not show much technique into them. Raw talent and pure brute force, like a brawler or wild animal fighting. With every blow, she gives all the power she has, keeping an aggressive stance to keep the pressure on Amy, as if her purpose was to trade blows until one would fall with little concern for her own safety.
The pink haired lass arches a brow at Amy's question as she recovers from Mimiru's attack, "What do I believe in?" She asks, obviously not having expected that sort of question in the midst of battle. Her lips curl into a wide smile at the thought and she closes her eyes, "I always say... In life, you have to look foward and never look back. Living your life with no regrets... Always enjoy and grasp the moment, before it slips out of your hands,"
The moment Mimiru reopens her eyes, there's not one Amy but four Amy -- the misty forms lunging at her to assault her together, in unisson. Mimiru's aggressive stance quickly shifts into a more defensive and evasive one as she attemps to avoid the the incoming charge. Unfortunately, there's so many of them that Mimiru's sleek maneuvers aren't enough to slip around them.
The charge knocks her back on the beach, sending her flying a short distance. She falls and rolls on her back, recovering with a semi-graceful roll. Mimiru pants softly and winces in pain, one arm wrapping up around her midsection to lessen the pain she felt from the chi projection rush she took.
"To fight is to keep on going... And to keep on going is to live," Mimiru answers plainly, "Nothing makes me feel more alive than a fight... The pain is a reminder that you're still alive..." Mimiru lets her words trail off. She growls and charges at Amy, a large flame like whip growing out of Mimiru's forearm -- as she approaches Amy, she flails the flame at her direction, intending to scorch her with it before it dissipates.
COMBATSYS: Amy dodges Mimiru's Firebrand.
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Mimiru 1/-------/=======|=======\====---\1 Amy
The Templar remains stalwart in the face of her summoned apparitions, their impact with Mimiru only causing the strange doppelganger to lose their consistency and fall back into individual tendrils, still driving forth toward their mistress before they spin around her in a loose, ethereal tornado. No wind is generated, only the brisk breeze off the sea stirring Amy's hair as she keeps her gaze focused upon Mimiru. She doesn't even seem to be concentrating, at least on the Dragon's Breath. It just... is.
"It sounds to me..."
She speaks clearly, her tone ringing with clarity as she gently windmills her arms, fingers flexing against the air, nails briefly talonlike as they seize a tenuous grip upon the mist and drag it under control, back to a more natural stirring. It's dangerously thick now - enough that were the two to part by more than a dozen feet, they'd start to lose sight of one another. The beach is a sight, nature's beauty overwritten by the prodigious workings of Amy Johnson.
"As though you believe in nothing more than yourself."
Raising her chin, she smiles, her cheeks dimpling with the profundity of the gesture. She doesn't say it - she doesn't feel she needs to - but she likes the younger woman a great deal, appreciates her drive and her honesty. It's rare to find a kindred spirit, and she'd never have imagined in a thousand years that she would feel this way. By the rhythm of their introduction they should only be at odds, and they are...
At odds, and yet bound to the same path. She feels it more than ever.
Even as she too-smoothly sidesteps the encroaching flail of furious energy, her breath catching in her throat as she does so. Her ponytail comes free with the quiet vigour of the motion, allowing long, silky black hair to tumble about her features. It remains free from her eyes by grace of the Dragon's Breath, the mist rippling about Amy's countenance in reactive defence of its mistress. It's a sight to behold--
--though it's not one Mimiru can behold for long. Quite uncharacteristic to her manner thus far, Amy tenses and then surges forward in a manner much more like Miss Kasagi herself, the mist following her in a dizzy spiral, rushing off her shoulders and then screaming with a windy howl down the suddenly-extended length of her arm. Driving with her full, surprising bodyweight, Amy proves she's more than a chi wizard; that body has solidity and strength within it, the culmination of the strike coming at her tensed and quivering palm. The energy coils there as she seeks to drive it with brutal efficiency into the girl's solar plexus, mist-turned-hurricane spiking into a savage burst that drives not just against but *through* Amy's empassioned opponent.
It strikes to the core, to the soul, wearing on body and spirit before tossing her away with one last flexion of the Templar's forearm. In the aftermath she gasps, flexing her wrist and shaking the hand out, needing a moment to collect herself.
And then she says, "The God that I believe in doesn't need lipservice, he needs warriors who believe in all that they are, who give their everything in the name of bettering this world... It will be a pleasure to fight at your side, Mimiru."
The last is soft, but weighted with absolute sincerity.
COMBATSYS: Mimiru counters Trembling Palm from Amy with Ippon Seoi Nage.
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Mimiru 1/------=/=======|=======\=====--\1 Amy
It's rather unsettling for Mimiru to have someone attempt to comprehend her. After all, most persons who've seen her would just classify her as an happy-go-lucky lad, always seeking a good time and a good adrenaline rush. Which is a good way to describe her (not to mention her questionable fashion sense).
Was there more to Mimiru than simply that? Was she more bi-dimensional than just this? Hard to know if she has more depth than all of this, and one fight might not be enough to do her truly justice. "It's more than that," Mimiru replies as she recovers from her failed swing, staggering back to get into her defensive stance, expecting Amy to use this opportunity to strike back.
The pink haired lass appreciated Amy : almost like love at first sight. Through her wanderlust, she constantly sought new experiences, and Amy was, in herself, someone entirely different than all the other persons she met... Alas though, most of Mimiru's friendship tends to be ephemereal for some reason...
When Amy decides to show what she is able to do in melee, Mimiru is ready for her. Apparently, Mimiru's not purely just bulk and brawn and she knows a few techniques of her own. When her arm extends to strike her plexus solar with her palm, Mimiru swiftly sidesteps : one hand reaches for Amy's wrist, while the other goes straight for Amy's armpit. She quickly turns on her heels, pressing her back against Amy and she bends over. Giving a good pull, Mimiru hurls Amy over her back and she throws her over her shoulder, slamming her down to the ground.
She holds her arm momentarily, before letting go and taking a few steps back, allowing Amy a few seconds to recover. "You can always expect me to give it my best," Mimiru replies, buffing her chest proudly, "Kasagis aren't quitters -- we're tough son of bitches," She says with a wide grin, "Resolve, determination, whatever you want..." She laughs at the thought and says, "Others call it 'we don't know when to give up'," She grins wickedly at the thought and glances down at Amy, "Had enough, or want me to spank ya while you're down?" She teases.
So, as it transpires, Amy speaks from her back.
There was effort in her blow - it was a forthright, oncoming storm much like those presented thus far by Mimiru; an exhibition of her opponent's style turned against her, an eye for an eye. It was only too natural that the younger woman should respond in kind, displaying the technique thus far lacking at what would be a key moment in any battle: they're moments from deciding a victor, if it comes to that...
It only makes her words resonate all the more. From her position in a furrow upon Sound Beach, soaked in sand and beginning to work up a cooling sweat as her body prepares to strive for that familiar limit sought in battle, Knight Officer Amy Johnson isn't sure whether to smile, laugh or get up and instantly resume the conflict. Mimiru leaves enough of an opening that she doesn't have to decide, and she settles for breathing in and out slowly, a smile touching her lips at the last as she rolls into a shoulder and uses the quick application of a hand to spin to a crouch. She's not too dazed; the dramatic turnabout at least lacked the sheer *impact* of all exhibited thus far.
But she's feeling it. She's feeling a lot of things.
"No spanking," she interjects with a warily raised brow, the promised laugh finally coming out in the form of a soft snort as Amy begins to circle across the ever-shifting sand, keeping her stance as balanced and steady as she can. She hesitates briefly, wondering if this opening will be seized by her opponent, and then she kills two birds with one stone-- she springs back in a near-horizontal leap, dropping to a half-crouch to land with one hand before her and the other extended, fingers open as if to throttle Mimiru from afar. She's smiling past her digits, as the mist ripples around them.
"Not," she adds with a further quirk of her mouth, "Yet, at least." With the tease comes a closing of her hand, and the gathered mists deepen further, as though drawing in a long breath there's a howl of chi-inspired winds. The Dragon's Breath closes in tight, the air becoming uncomfortable, cloying. The beach below almost disappears from view as tendrils seep rapidly across the ground, and the air-- is it disappearing too? Is that possible? It becomes hard to breathe in the next moment, when Amy herself is consumed in a blanket of grayish fog, stormy blue eyes the last thing truly visible.
It all happens in one of those bizarre instants that the brain can only recall as if in slow-motion, as at no point does the progress of the mist cease. It just keeps closing, and closing, until the area around Mimiru is settling upon her like grasping fingers. Worse-- if she doesn't escape quickly, if she can form no defense against it, those fingers work their way INTO her, like water rushing to fill a hole. Like sand finding the tiny cracks between the toes. Amy's chi invades her, presses her, crushes her.
In the end, it will only last an instant, her whole body compressed at once, and then like the same breath being released the mist retreats back to a slow, coiling ebb. Amy - if undisturbed - is where she was before, and everything is normal.
But for the pain.
"I don't give up so easily, either. Maybe I won't be the one getting spanked."
COMBATSYS: Mimiru dodges Amy's The Dragon's Breath.
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Mimiru 1/------=/=======|=====--\-------\0 Amy
The howl of wind causes a shiver down Mimiru's spine : it was almost like a warning. Something saying that the storm was coming. Mimiru arches a brow and she glances around her nervously. It was rather difficult to defend oneself against some manifestation of chi, and Amy's control on the matter seemed to exceed her own.
Despite Mimiru's obvious wariness, a smirk spreads on her lips at Amy's reply. The wisecrack and how she plays along with her amuses her. "You're right -- no spanking before the fourth night, almost forgot the rule," Mimiru says, taking a step back as the unnatural grayish mist submerges Amy and approaches Mimiru dangerously.
She wouldn't run away, but she had to find a way to avoid this crushing fate. When she feels the chi tightening around her, Mimiru growl as she squirms and breaks through it, slipping through its deathly embrace that was meant to crush her. The slender girl manages to slip out of it, pressing herself away from what felt like solid fog within the mist, pushing herself out of it and staggering away.
A lucky shot, perhaps? Fortunately, the mist dissipates and Amy reappears, "Man, that was sort of creepy... Not sure between the Silent Hill kind of creepy or the pervert creepy kinda..." Mimiru straightens herself up and she arches a brow, "Like, did you just try to grope me with mist-like tentacules or something!?"
While Mimiru might seem outrageous at first, a grin spreads on her lips as she adds, "Kinky.."
Mimiru charges at Amy -- no flames or special tricks this time, only brute force as she attempts to punch her with all her might straight for Amy's midsection. A good old gut punch.
COMBATSYS: Amy fails to interrupt Medium Punch from Mimiru with Roundhouse Kick.
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Mimiru 1/------=/=======|=====--\-------\0 Amy
As keen as Amy it is to test her own abilities, this is a battle she's approaching almost as observer - she wants to gain the full measure of this feisty, energetic woman, to experience not just her resolve and focus but the sheer power she brings to bear. Where the Templar is deceptively flashy, the mist providing special effects in grotesquely theatrical counter-point to her steadfast movements, Mimiru brings it like a more traditional sort of champion; she keeps it coming, and she doesn't quit.
Amy would be the first to admit she didn't see this next occurence from a mile away, their separation in physical terms enough to provide her a more-than-competent shot at crushing the younger woman and perhaps even closing the battle.
The tide is turned with a rapidity and conviction she's so rarely encountered, the banter still ringing in her ears when that simple, direct assault is driving for her taut abdominals. She's prepared to take it-- and take it she does, her attempt at twisting with the momentum of the blow ill-advised following her concerted effort to drive Mimiru to her knees. Fist impacts flesh with a meaty thump, and the Templar staggers, for the first time losing her footing through ill grace. She just can't stay up, teeth clacking hard as she eats the blow with a grunt.
Spitting out a mouthful of sand, she throws up a hand and rises to a half-crouch, warding Mimiru off as she catches a breath and shakes her head, a breathless smile coming with the utmost admiration and the humility of surrender.
She asked for Mimiru to come at her with everything, and despite throwing everything back... they've reached an inescapably ugly stage. This is either going to leave one of them unconscious - and, she's forced to admit with no real shame, it may well be her - or...
"Enough," she utters with as much calm as she can, before unavoidably laughing once more. This is more sheer joy than she's taken in a fight for a long time, her freckled cheeks flushing with a blend of excitement and pleasure that's - despite possible appearances - little to do with the teasing edge in their traded words. "You're incredible." She shakes her head again and rises, "I believe every word you've told me."
The mist still surrounds them, and shows no sign of thinning. There's an almost electric air about it, the tendrils looping more unnaturally still now, bobbing and weaving like *they* want to finish the fight with this quirky foe.
"I call it the Dragon's Breath," she offers by belated way of explanation, straightening her back and breathing a sigh to release some of the mounted tension. "I can use it to contain or even kill, if I've done enough to weaken my foe. We're..." She pauses, furling and unfurling the fingers of one hand. The mist makes a sympathetic motion, following the path of her fingertips from a small distance hence, the motion curling back through the fog like an eldritch echo. "Bonded. Always have been. It seeks in others what it finds in me, turns it against them. I wondered, once, if I might be like Alma. If I had a power others didn't."
Amy tips her head slightly, stormy blue eyes slightly damp and bloodshot from the shock of that last blow as she examines Mimiru, her breath still coming heavy.
"But you, your style, it's all you, isn't it? Your belief. Your courage. Your determination." Forcing greater calm, she smiles. There's a bittersweet note to it that's distant, far from Mimiru, as if the Templar were recollecting an event of her past. "I admire that. Did you train yourself?"
Despite her lust for battle and the desire feel this constant rush of adrenaline, Amy's soft command and laughter are enough to stop Mimiru right in the middle of another attack. She was just about to kick her, even while she was down, taking advantage of her previous punch to capitalize on some momentum.
Her lips curl into a smile and Mimiru's aggressive stance quickly fades into a casual one, offering Amy one hand. It was good sport, after all, and while both would have fought to the very end, it didn't have to finish into unconsciousness for either of them.
The girl rests her hands on her hips and she listens to Amy's words. There was that childish innocence and admiration in her eyes when she listened to Amy's words -- as if there was something magical and mystic surrounding her. She was, after all, a knight who chased Vampires and Demons... And now she's the holder of the Dragon's Breath?
Awesome. And Mimiru literally voices her thought, "That's sick.." She admits with a slow nod of her head. Mimiru tilts her head to one side when Amy mentions Alma's power, "The hell you're talking about? Alma's most notable trait is being a metrosexual artist who wants to paint me nude badly," Mimiru says, waving her head dismissingly. "... Who also encountered a vampire, apparently. Then again, I suppose he'd make a good boy toy..." She trails off.
"Anyway!" She says, waving her hands up dismissingly. Alma wasn't the subject of this conversation after all! The girl stares back at Amy, silently. Likewise, she is panting from the exertion this fight has brought upon her, though it was a good sort of fatigue. Her body ached with pain, and pain was the best of drugs...
Mimiru arches a brow at the question about her fighting style, "I..." Mimiru says, averting her gaze. "Yes," She says, her smile fading away. A hint of saddness crosses her features, something that seems totally out of place on Mimiru's face, "I spent the last few years trainning and mastering my brother's fighting style and moves..."
There was no joy in her voice, no playfulness, a distant and dull monotone. The pain itself was not enough to repress the sensation she felt mentioning her brother, the euphoria of the fight fading away... A cruel way to bring her back to reality.
"Let's go back to my place," Mimiru says with a voice that sounds too serious to be hers. She chases away the grim thoughts though, a wide smile on her lips as she reaches over to give a pat on Amy's back, "I've got the best of beer to share -- an hibiscus amber brew. You'll love it... Best way to do an after fight," Mimiru says with a grin.
Alma's most notable trait...
The Templar's smile quirks a bit at that, as she considers what it might be-- and has to bite back further laughter at the younger woman's meandering thoughts yielding once more to sexuality. For all her apparent devotion to the Lord and the quest she's assumed - at this point, almost entirely of her own volition - Amy can't help but lose herself in the more reckless and lighthearted aspects of this budding friendship. How long has it been since she palled around with someone who doesn't call everyone 'thee' and 'thou'? Who's prepared to joke around and have fun in spite of the inherent seriousness and conflict of life? And yet, there it is, the depth behind the doubtless equally-genuine facade. That resonates with her too; they have much to discuss.
"I'm sorry," it's spoken without awkwardness, a simple profession of the sadness the lady knight feels for anyone who's suffered without necessity. Not oft given to physical displays, she nonetheless reaches out and settles a hand upon Mimiru's shoulder, digits squeezing with a firm gentility that says more than words need to, now. When the gesture's closeness is returned, when 'fantasy' resumes...
She's willing to immerse. Not everything needs to be thrown wide open.
Some pain is best resolved in other ways.
"That sounds nice," she decides with a bob of her head, the brief conflict in stormy eyes resolved to simply enjoy herself - whether that be a form of therapy or no - and immerse in something light and joyous before they move on to tackle the darkness. "Since you gave me a spanking, it's only right I drink you under the table."
For all that awaits, the future may be bright after all.
The morning after, they can deal with when it comes...
COMBATSYS: Mimiru has left the fight here.
COMBATSYS: Amy has ended the fight here.
Log created on 16:11:21 01/27/2015 by Amy, and last modified on 22:48:35 01/27/2015.