Description: Having discovered the modern marvel of the Neo-League, Riki uses it to have a fresh fight delivered right to her!
Night has long since fallen by the time the call goes out. The Neo League, ever thirsty for fresh contests to feed its eager followers, never sleeps. But, while those hungry for glory might be willing to burn the midnight oil, the rest of the city has long since drifted into restful slumber. As such the venue for this particular match is situated well away from the heavily populated residential sectors.
Nestled into the canal between one of the city's towering overpasses, the arena is unusually narrow and cramped. Tall concrete slopes jut upwards around a strip of flat paved ground perhaps twenty feet across at the bottom. The artificial barriers are meant to keep runoff water from the country's occasional monsoons funneled into the long trench where it can safely be directed back into the ocean. At the moment, no such torrential downpour plagues the city, leaving the canal bone-dry - the perfect place for a pair of street fighters to engage in their brutal sport.
With the setting of the sun, the drone of passing traffic across the overpass has dwindled to naught but the occasional rumble of a lone taxi. Southtown might have a bustling night scene but out here near the outskirts of the city it's downright peaceful. The brilliant glow of the city's ever present lights fills the sky with enough illumination to make the stars difficult to pick out in the dark above. Instead neon spotlights cast their blazing eyes down from the street above, too high to dispel the darkness but close enough to blot out the twinkling of distant suns.
Within the canal itself dozens of old iron barrels form a long row down both sides of the trench. Bits of broken wood, old trash, and discarded tires have been stuffed into each and set ablaze. The stench is awful and the EPA would probably start frothing at the mouth at the sheer amount of dark pollution pouring into the sky in lazy columns. It's hard to argue that the flickering shadows cast by the flames don't create a strike ambiance to the venue though and what's more important than some good mood lighting?
One of the contestants is already present and has been for some time. With most of the dark stalkers roaming the countryside having been dealt with over the past few months, Riki finds that she has a lot of free time on her hands lately. Free time that, according to her tiny ward, should be spent doing work. Of course, whenever her clumsy attempts to actually assist in said work inevitably create more problems than they solve, she ends up getting the same earful she would have had she simply lazed about and done nothing. Sigh. The life of a demon is never easy.
The discovery of the Neo League had practically been a dream come true. All she has to do is pretty a little button and people line up to fight her whenever she wants? She might have actually swooned a little upon finding out about this miracle of modern technology. Not only was fighting second only to drinking on her list of hobbies but this would give her an excuse to slip away from the temple and Ayame's persistent, if well meaning, nagging.
She had be so eager to test this new found avenue for entertainment that the ogre had spent the better part of the afternoon simply camping out in the location of the future match. It had been rather boring at first but as word spread through the magic of the Internet she'd found herself with plenty of company. Despite her now almost constant forays into Southtown, most people still haven't heard of the demon or her exploits. She has been happily rectifying the latter for several hours now, regaling the steadily growing crowd with tales of her unflinching bravery from the present and stories of her terrible might in ages past.
"...and then, I took up my mighty club and clouted the serpent atop its head! The beast was so dazed that it forgot we were fighting and slithered off into the forest! Perhaps it is still there, wandering about in a stupor, hahaha!"
Riki flashes a broad grin, her lips peeling back to reveal a wicked set of fanged canines. As usual, a rapid series of flashes quickly went off all around her as cameras and phones snapped pictures of her fearsome mien. She'd discovered quite early that these humans were easily impressed and was going out of her way to show off at every opportunity.
Sitting cross-legged upon the concrete floor of the canal and dressed in her ancient battle garb, a loose garment of gray fabric that resembles some primitive combination of a toga and a kimono, she must look like an ancient village matron passing on stories of wisdom to a gaggle of children. A massive gourd wrapped in bits of rope to create a make-shift carrying handle rests at her side, providing an apparently endless flow of crystal clear sake into the bright red lacquered bowl she holds in one hand. Considering she's been drinking for somewhere close to four hours straight now, she seems remarkably sober, though the flush of red across her cheeks is impossible to miss.
Even in the Neo League, a lot of people may well be discouraged by just the concept of facing a giant possibly-demon-woman. But then, just as many may well end up taking up *that* particular challenge foolhardishly. Afterall, what kind of glory could one claim after taking down such a foe?
For a certain Finn, such pickiness on either side of the specturm just isn't a thing that exists for him. Life is a battlefield! And any fights to fill that battlefield with are all welcome ones.
Though he would be lying if he were to claim just the promises of this particular fight relayed from the few rumors he heard weren't exciting.
Even if the exact venue itself isn't... exactly at the top of his list of desired locations. Not that you really get to complain all too much with that either, when it comes to these things.
For once, Tarmo is actually on *time* for the arranged bout! ...And yet, he finds that his opponent has been left waiting for him *anyway*. At least it isn't his fault this time around. After the several times he'd gotten lost in this city, he finally had the foresight to actually researching the correct route beforehand. It even gave him the chance to drop by that one chinese shop that made those amazing meat- and sauce-filled buns without having to worry about being late. A bagful of which he now holds in one huge hand while stomping through the underside of the overpass, with one of the hefty buns (the shop started making larger ones specifically for him after he became a regular customer) held up in one hand, already half-eaten.
"Yo!" The Finn calls out in a loud, rumbling bass tone as he approaches, holding the partially-eaten treat up in a faux-salute. The northern-european in the... bizarrely-chosen field jacket with a fur-lined hood draped to frame an entirely bare, heavily muscular chest might still be smaller than Riki (not that he might fully realize the extent of such while she's still sitting amongst the children), but he *is* still fairly massive in his own right. Certainly in comparison to the average citizen of Southtown.
"Looks like ya already gathered an audience, huh?" The Finn observes with a wide, toothy grin. A considerable part of the crowd parts in the wake of the massive finn's approach, clearing the path for him to close in on his opponent-to-be -- all the way to where he can stand right in front of her. Openly drawing his eyes over her, sizing her up, with the occasional curious lift of one thick eyebrow. She is certainly... more than he expected.
"Hungry?" He asks regardless of all that, holding out the bag in his right hand, though he doesn't presume to outright sit himself down at this point. For all he know, the Oni might just want to get right to things. "Got the stomach rumbles on the way here. Figured I'd bring enough to share just in case." And cue the remaining half of the bun in his other hand getting shoved into his hungry maw in one quick chomp. NOM.
The people arrayed around the oni for story time aren't actually children, though one could be forgiven for making that mistake considering the size difference between herself and the average human. The crowd parts to make way for another figure of considerable size, if not quite on the same scale as the demon, allowing him to approach.
Riki turns her attention to the new arrival, her grin widening in delight at the unusual size of her opponent. She'd expected someone more bite-sized but apparently the organizers behind the League went the extra mile to find her an appropriately large meal. Not that she plans on eating him, those days are behind her. Especially when he comes bearing tribute!
"Oh? Is it customary to offer gifts before a match?"
The oni lifts her hand from the gourd and scratches at the back of her neck, looking slightly sheepish. She didn't bother to bring anything with her that might be constituted as a gift. There is, of course, her sake which she might offer but that isn't really the sort of thing mortals were meant to partake of. It takes some mighty strong brew to affect a demon, even one trapped in a body of flesh. More than a little of its potency comes from the infusion of raw spiritual energies imparted to the booze by its magical container. On the other hand, he looks like a hearty specimen. Perhaps he can handle it? And if not that might be an amusing way to win the fight.
"Tis mine first foray into this human contest," she says, reaching over to pluck the massive gourd from the ground and set it down between them. "I was unaware of this custom. If it pleases thee, I offer this as recompense. You may drink your fill, mortal, though I warn thee that this brew comes from the gardens of the spirit realms. It is the finest drink that exists, in this world or any other. Its potency may be more than thou can handle."
She grins at him, flashing her teeth again. The way she phrased it sounds more like a challenge than an offer. It might be a little underhanded to goad the man into drinking himself into a stupor before their fight but since when has a demon ever been able to resist the chance to play a trick on a mortal? Hasn't she spent the last few hours telling stories of doing precisely this sort of thing to the samurai of eld?
The oni's smile widens noticeably and her eyes sparkle with mischief as she proposes the offer.
"Well? Is this an acceptable exchange, mortal?"
"Hmmm, probably not," the Finn confesses, on the matter of human customs. Still, he gives the hand holding onto the bagful of buns a bit of a wiggle. "But so what? Just 'cuz we're 'bout to get to tryin' to kick the shit out of each other in a minute don't mean we gotta treat each other like shit too, yeah? So don't even worry 'bout it. Just think of it as a man wantin' to share his bounty an' all."
However it is that they might end up viewing the particular exchange, the Finn does still give the offered gourd of (literally) divine booze an intrigued look. And ultimately, he makes the choice to lower himself down to sitting on the ground, mimicking the oni's posture in crossing his own legs with one elbow propped onto a thick, meaty thigh.
"That 'bout right? You wouldn't happen to just be tryin' to get me plastered for the fight, lady?"
Not that he seems to hold that against her too much, not judging from the good-natured grin he flashes right back at her look of mischief while setting the bun-bag down between them, right next to the gourd.
"Don't be underestimatin' a northenerner with booze, huh?"
And with that said, the Finn does, indeed, reach for the gourd, to hoist it up with one hand.
"Figure ya already got it, but gonna say it anyway: The name's Tarmo. Real pleased to make ya acquintance."
If the Oni has a drinking bowl to offer for him, too, he would certainly pour a serving of the offered drink into it. But if not, then drinking straight from the gourd is certainly not beyond him, as long as she has no opposition to it.
But either way, be it from drinking bowl or straight from the source, with a rumble of "Kippis!" he does bring the bounty of booze for a big, (un)healthy swig. Eyes closing briefly with the few swallowings before deciding he's had enough, letting out a content breath after lowering the container away from his lips.
"See, that's--" He begins, but then--
His eyes suddenly pinch shut, and a few nearly-violent coughs force themselves up from the man's chest, along with a share of expletives in his native language.
"Sheesh--!" He groans with one wide paw of a hand held against his bare chest with red color already spreading visibly over bearded features from the warmth brought on by the liqour. "You weren't kiddin', huh--! That does have a helluva kick... Think I burnt my throat a lil' there..."
Sadly, Riki does not have another bowl to offer him. She's rather used to drinking alone with her primary companion being a girl who is probably far too prudish to touch a cup of liquor even if she was old enough to partake. But, being a literal ogre, table manners aren't high on the woman's priority list. She motions for Tarmo to indulge straight from the gourd with an encouraging nod, her smile remaining wide with amusement as he gulps it down.
When he breaks out into an explosive fit of coughing, Riki throws her head back and lets out a hearty laugh. The noise rumbles out of her in a wave, deep and rich and full of genuine mirth. That he literally could have died by accepting her challenge doesn't seem to particularly weigh upon the demon's soul. At least he'd have gone out with one of life's best experiences on his tongue! And besides, she did warn him. The choice was his. Fortunately for Tarmo, it seems his constitution was up to the task of tasting a little slice of heaven.
Hoisting her own fancy bowl up at him in a toast, Riki gulps down the entire contents in several large gulps, an amount that is easily ten times the mouthful he barely managed to endure. She lets out a deep sigh of content once the brew has joined the keg's worth of sake already in her stomach, her eyes closing halfway in an expression of indolent pleasure. Several cheers go up from the crowd at the display, though considering she's been downing this stuff for hours most of the crowd isn't particularly surprised. Tarmo's reaction to the booze does lend a bit more credence to her claims about its potency though.
"Well, thou hath impressed me, mortal. Not many manage to survive tasting the fruit of the gods."
Reaching forward, Riki pulls the gourd back to her side followed by the bag of meat buns. Rather than attempt to rummage around inside with her massive hands, she dumps a couple of the meat buns into her palm. One is popped whole-sale into her mouth and she chews vigorously, the array of noises that accompany this task further cementing her lack of etiquette.
"Hmm," she says, swallowing after a few moments. "An excellent dish! Just the thing to sate my hunger."
The other meat bun vanishes just as quickly and the oni resumes her assault on the bag, emptying it in short order if not stopped. She leans back onto one hand, licking the juices from her fingers like a child that has just gorged itself on candy.
"Aaaah! Most pleasing, this offering! But, these people did not come to watch us feast!"
Planting a hand on the ground, Riki unfolds her legs and slowly pushes up to her feet. While the posture before may have given the impression that she and Tarmo of a similar height, the truth of the ogre's gargantuan stature makes itself known in full now. Towering nearly a foot and half over even the bear of a man, she absolutely dwarfs the onlookers to a frightening degree.
Riki's body is a strange mix of dynamic opposites, marrying the soft curves of a woman with the rock-hard musculature of an inhuman brute in a way that seems aesthetically pleasing. Rather than look like a grotesque pile of muscle, her proportions seem to match those of a human just scaled up to a ludicrous degree. Her toga-kimono-thing is well suited to displaying both of these attributes in their fullest, the loose garment only barely attempting to conceal her generous bust while the chiseled definition of her legs is left bare for all to see.
A loud thwack fills the air as the demon punches one meaty fist into the palm of the other. She grins down at Tarmo, flashing her fangs at him with an eager look of anticipation. The faint smell of brimstone and sulfur starts to waft across his senses as a flicker of literal hellfire roils up the length of her brilliant red horn.
"Come now! We have dawdled enough! It is time for the contest to begin!"
"Hhh, woulda been a real anti-climactic end to the fight if I didn't survive," mutters Tarmo with a quick wipe of the back of his hand over his lips. And for the record, while he does not stop Riki from gorging on the buns, he doesn't simply let her devour *all* of them without snatching a few for himself too. They're to share! Greedy demons.
But as she says, all the people here did not come here just to watch them feast upon their shared bounties of food and drink. As amusing as an eating contest between the two massive specimens might be under different circumstances.
As the two rise up to their feet, the height difference is laid bare for even Tarmo to see -- but he is clearly not put off by it. After deliberate, possibly-longer-than-necessary look-over given to the Oni once more, he lets out an impressed whistle. "You really are one huge lady, lady."
And as it turns out, the sight and smell of actual hellfire doesn't disassuade the large, powerfully-muscled finn either. No, instead he just grins *wider* with pure excitement of the fight put ahead of him.
"Then let us!" He agrees with a roar of laughter, spreading his arms a bit wider with the fingers on each hand flexed out as one foot stomps down hard enough onto the ground to send a vibrating *THUMP* echoing through the canal. "Show me what you got!"
So eager is he to see the power within the demon's own massive body, indeed, that-- in an act that should certainly be against all common sense and good judgement, he actually decides to start off by engaging her in a direct contest of physical strength. Another heavy stomp brought in to close the distance left betwen the two as both hands thrust in -- potentially colliding and grabbing onto her own if she decides to engage him in like, otherwise simply grabbing onto shoulder and bicep. Still grinning wide even then, even if his teeth are brought to gritting tighter from the inevitable exertion, muscles flexing all along his body in pitting his strength against that of the demon, twisting and pushing-- and if he can through some miracle exert enough power to not only set them into a stalemate but outright push through her, then leverage her weight over to tipping enough to drive her down onto the ground with his own body dropping onto hers.
COMBATSYS: Tarmo has started a fight here.
COMBATSYS: Riki has joined the fight here.
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Riki 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Tarmo
COMBATSYS: Riki blocks Tarmo's Moukariheitto.
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Riki 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Tarmo
Riki's surprise is obvious as her opponent eagerly throws himself at her, clearly attempting to engage her directly in a shoving match. Neverminding that the sheer size difference alone puts him at a hefty disadvantage, her unnatural strength all but makes the attempt laughable. And laugh she does as she lowers herself to meet his rush, her powerful legs spreading into a wide braced stance. Her hands thrust forward to grapple with his own, dwarfing the foreigner's mitts in a way that he is probably not used to being on the receiving end of.
Attempting to move the oni now that she has planted her feet is like trying to uproot an ancient oak tree. There is the barest hint of give as his momentum collides with her titanic form but he's stopped as thoroughly as if he'd shoulder-checked a brick wall. The amazon grins down at him, the muscles of her arms bulging with raw power as she holds him in check.
"Thou wish to engage an oni in a contest of strength? Bold... but foolish!"
The demon's fingers close tightly over Tarmo's fists and she takes a step forward, using sheer mass and power to drive him backwards. The strength in her hands becomes even more apparent as she starts to squeeze her down on his fists, attempting to crush them to pulp within her massive palms.
COMBATSYS: Tarmo blocks Riki's Crushing Grasp.
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Riki 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Tarmo
Apparently this doesn't disappoint Tarmo in the least. The pure show of strength from Riki simply draws out another joyful glint in his eyes.
"But why of course!" He offers in answer with a mirroring of her laugh. "One has to be bold with challenges, no? And sometimes... hhh... a man's gotta be a little foolish too!"
Even under the physical stop of such an immense force and weight ahead of him, even when that same force and weight starts pushing back at *him*, the Finn doesn't hesitate in the least. He even makes the point of keeping his eyes firmly locked on the Oni's own.
And perhaps shockingly to her - or a the very least the spectators around them - he doesn't buckle under her pressing advance. The ground underneath his feet might crack while his legs brace down for more support, but the Finn simply doesn't move. Smaller he might be, but his own physical strength, it turns out, is nothing to scoff at either, even in comparison to hers.
"That's what makes... hhhh... all this so excitin'!"
And of all things, she actually will start to feel her fingers pushing outwards, as his fists start opening up within her grasp. NOt just withstanding the squeeze that would surely break the bones of a lesser man, but actually slowly working his way to freeing himself from it. But, still, that would take time. Time that would give her the chance to adjust the grip or do something else entirely in place of maintaining the stalemate.
And thus, the Finn decides to make that move first. A kick down at the ground to send his weight just an inch or so further forward, before sweeping that same leg to the side and up, aimed to spike his knee at Riki's side.
And in that instant-- pain surges through that same leg.
The fabric of the cargo pants tears over the knee.
Several transparent, tiny, blue-hued blades spike out with a splatter of the Finn's own blood, right before the potential impact.
And just as quickly as it appeared, it's gone again.
COMBATSYS: Tarmo successfully hits Riki with Light Kick.
- Power hit! -
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Riki 0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0 Tarmo
It's been a long time since anyone with the power to simply match her strength has come along. However, while Tarmo's strength is surprising for a mortal, it takes more than simply muscle to win a contest such as this. The difference in size puts him at a, pardon the pun, sizable disadvantage compared to his demonic opponent. Even if they were somehow perfectly matched in raw muscle strength leverage and weight would make it all but impossible to overcome the difference without any technique to back him up.
Such wrestling matches were the sport of choice among oni when such demonic brutes wandered the Earthrealm in number many centuries ago. In many ways, the styles of fighting that humans have developed over the years draw their inspiration from the might of demons and spirits. Sumo, a famous wrestling form native to Japan, is no different. Practitioners gorge themselves into veritable hulks of muscle and fat, turning their bodies into sledgehammers which they hurl at their opponent like wrecking balls. But, contrary to popular belief, there is a great deal of skill behind the art of those titanic grapples, skills that were gleamed from watching oni at their sport.
Long story short, Riki's actually really damn good at this. She might not have the grace and agility of a master martial artist but she centuries of experience to draw upon. Tarmo's attempts to free his hands seem to gain ground but only for a few moments at a time, each twist and push met with a shift in grip from the gargantuan woman. She leverages her mass like someone who knows how to use it, leaning hard on him from above, though she seems content to simply let him squirm for the moment rather than just flatten him. He'd challenged her pride as an oni by engaging her directly; now he's going to suffer for that hubris.
The downwards kick is met with a subtle shift in posture from the demon. Her wooden sandals scuff the concrete noisily as she adjusts her grip and repositions her legs to keep him under control. The kick at her side is largely ignored - such probing strikes are a common way to try and make space. Inflict enough pain, however brief, and the opponent's grip might loosen or they might be forced to move to a disadvantageous position to avoid it. But an ogre has nothing to fear from a human.
Such is the thought running through Riki's mind when the blades tear into her unprotected side. Her eyes widen, more in surprise than pain, and she lets out a snarl through clenched teeth.
"Agh! So, thou wish to play rough, eh?"
Rather than loosen her grip, Riki's fingers tighten even more firmly and she lets out a bellow of challenge. The intense pressure that had been bearing down on Tarmo suddenly reverses as the ogre shifts her direction, pulling him towards her rather than pushing against him. Her own huge leg lifts from the ground as she pulls and she drives it towards his chest like a battering ram, attempting to drag him straight into the path of the oncoming freight train.
COMBATSYS: Tarmo endures Riki's Earthshaker.
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Riki 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Tarmo
Riki isn't the only one surprised. Tarmo's attention has actually momentarily turned away and down from Riki to look at his own knee and the blood staining it. No blades there anymore though. "What--?"
Rather than being allowed to ruminate on the implications of what just happened for very long, the Finn is violently pulled away from that line of thought and towards Riki's own knee!
He still has his senses where he can maintain control of himself, however. But rather than using that control to try and wrest himself out of the way of the ramming limb, he instead... leans right in towards her, and the knee. "Rrraaahh!"
It's a sudden twist of motion, one that surely, decisively, brings him into the path of the knee that winds up slamming hard into his gut with a hiss of air spilling past his grit-together teeth. And yet, it doesn't drive the wind out of him as roughly as she may have expected. Certainly, it *hurts*. It hurts a lot for that matter.
But the forward, tiwsting motion doesn't stop-- and in a burst of pure strength, it's made further use of with one hand suddenly breaking free of the vise-like grip of the oni's mitts.
"Ain't gotten rough yet--!"
Almost belatedly, the recoil from the strike takes hold to drive him back with an extended backward swing of the now-freed hand. One boot stamping on the ground halts the retreat before it spins out of control and his hand, now held far back behind himself, curls into a tight fist.
And back inwards it swings, in an upward-rising crescent arc, in time with his other hand making use of Riki's still-maintained grip to yank her towards him and force her to lean over towards the powerful, explosive burst of force.
Such force that even in spite of the immense, *gigantic* weight of the demon woman, it's still enough to send the both of them flying up if she doesn't stop it in it's tracks. Maybe not as high as he could juggle other opponents before. But high enough, nonethless, that when a mid-air twist of the Finn's body pulls him right into her, the driving force of the fall will be enough to shake the earth and crack the cement upon landing.
COMBATSYS: Riki interrupts Ilmahyokkays from Tarmo with Charging Ox.
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Riki 0/-------/---====|=======\===----\1 Tarmo
The problem with attempting to draw an oni closer towards you is that the oni is now moving in your direction. That is the worst possible direction for an oni to be moving for many reasons, though in this case the most prominent issue this poses for Tarmo is that the oni is moving in his direction very fast. Why the man believed that this was a desirable outcome the world may never know. Perhaps he was under the impression that tugging the oni towards him would confuse the oni, since no sane person would want an oni closer to them. However, when an oni is confused, it tends to react in much the same way as it does when not confused - which is to say, it simply runs over anything that gets in its way and figures out the details later.
Riki's roar of challenge almost literally shakes the ground, the wordless bellow possessing some otherworldly quality that transcends a mere shout. The sound rattles the bones of all present and touches upon some primitive forgotten instinct. The majority of the onlookers find themselves brought to their knees, legs quivering and unresponsive in the face of the demonic entity's battle lust.
Tarmo is not afforded that luxury. As he yanks at the massive ogre in an attempt to draw her into his massive swing, the titan doesn't attempt to fight him, instead simply leaning into the sudden shift. Her shoulder catches him square in the chest as he rises from the ground, the blow meant to hurl her from her feet proving to be his undoing. The fist slams into her midsection but her counter-charge is too quick and she's much too close when it lands for it to have the needed power to hoist a being of such mass into the air.
With his feet no longer firmly planted on the ground, Tarmo finds there is little he can do to resist as the oni barrels into him like a stampeding bull. Momentum keeps him flattened against her broad shoulder for a couple of seconds as she thunders down the channel. When she stops, however, that force suddenly changes directions, sending him hurling to the hard concrete several feet away.
Resting her fists on her hips, Riki grins triumphantly down at the Finn, clearly pleased with herself.
"Hah! Stand in mine path at thy own peril, mortal! No one can stop an oni!"
This probably should have been expected, in hindsight. The sheer force of violence is so overwhelming the Finn is barely left with the sense to fully realize what has happened. One moment, he was striking into the demon with everything he had. The next, his back is striking into the concrete side of the channel with enough force to crater it and surround the finn in a spiderwebbing of cracks.
And down he goes slumping onto the ground again, thumping down to his side first and rolling further towards Riki, only to be left panting there in a mix of fatigue and pain. "Hgghhh..."
Slowly, he pushes himself upwards with his arms to his knees, spitting a nasty goblet of blood down onto the ground.
"Hhaaahh... So what..." He rumbles. "Wouldn't be... fun without the peril... right?"
The Finn's eyes snap up to stare right back up at the demon woman from the floor with a grin that, somehow, manages to be even wilder than ever before. With it, comes another sudden surge of strength-- on that sweeps him up, and in the same instant, snap his hand out to behind one of her legs, the joint behind her knee, in a wild pull meant to buckle her footing from right underneath her.
But that's not the main intent of the move, no. The Finns upward surge continues, reaching up high with his other hand after releasing her knee to clamp his hand right into her face, intending to drive her down her onto the ground, backside of the head -first, with violent force.
COMBATSYS: Riki blocks Tarmo's Hakkaa Paalle.
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Riki 0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0 Tarmo
Tarmo's attempt to shrug off the obvious injuries he sustained in his ill-advised attempt to play chicken with a charging oni earns another bark of laughter from Riki. She throws her head back, confident enough in her own might to casually take her eyes off of her opponent to indulge in some jovial banter.
"Hahaha! Indeed! What fun is there to be had without a little dang-erk?!"
The Finn's wild-eyed glare of defiance goes unnoticed by his towering opponent as she current has her eyes closed in haughty triumph. That gives him all the opening he needs to rush in and try to earn a little payback. Riki's smug monologue is cut short as she senses the danger, her eyes opening wide in a brief moment of surprise as one leg is unceremoniously yanked out from under her. Unprepared as she is, the demon doesn't have time to brace against the joint strike and her leg buckles like a tree that's just been sawed in half.
Both figures tumble to the ground in the aftermath, Riki tumbling backwards to try and blunt the fall while Tarmo hurls himself forward to try and get a grip on her face for whatever violence he has in mind. Seeming to succeed more out of sheer luck than any attempt at defending herself, Riki's wild flailing as she falls manages to strike Tarmo in the side just as he moves to follow through on the surprise trip attack. The sheer mass of her limb is enough to jostle him off course, shifting his grasping hand from her face down to something more... soft.
The eventual impact with the ground isn't particularly pleasant for Riki. Being tall has the major disadvantage that you have a much longer way to fall before you hit the ground and are thus traveling a bit faster when it rises up to meet you. The entire arena shudders as the amazon thuds onto her back but she manages to roll with the fall somewhat. More importantly, whatever Tarmo had planned for her is cut decisively short by his unfortunate aim, unless it had something to do with copping a feel.
Upon realizing that her opponent hasn't yet leaped upon her and starting pummeling away, Riki blinks and glances down. While most human women would react in a rather predictable manner upon finding themselves in such a predicament, the hedonistic ogre seems thoroughly amused. She turns to Tarmo and flashes him a wide grin, then plants a hand on his chest in return - and promptly shoves him backwards with enough force to send him sprawling.
"Interested in a different kind of wrestling, are we? Perhaps after the match I shall humor that desire! But only if you can impress me, mortal!"
Pushing back to her feet, Riki takes a moment to adjust her robes, an event which every camera in the vicinity seems keen to capture. Either ignorant of her own appeal or more interested in focusing on the fight, the oni ignores the gawkers. She drops into a low stance, her legs spread wide for balance and her powerful arms flexed tightly at her sides. The smell of sulfur and brimstone quickly starts to grow thick in the air once again as she flashes her teeth at him in another broad grin.
Flickering tongues of scarlet flame dance inside of her mouth, visible as she exhales a long heavy breath. Behind her crimson eyes yet more flame seems to gather, the irises glowing with hellish power. Even her hair begins to smolder, the tips of the long golden locks turning a bright ruby red like freshly stirred coals.
"Come, human! Let us see if thy strength is up to the task of felling a denizen of Meido!"
COMBATSYS: Riki is starting to get fired up!
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Riki 1/-----==/=======|-------\-------\0 Tarmo
Best laid plans and all that. It's not entirely uncommon for people to react in such a way when getting swung into a very much dangerous kind of fall down, but most people? Most people don't have such strength and massive limbs that just a panicked flail is enough to disassuade Tarmo.
The difference here is learned the hard way when the Finn grunts with surprise, but in an equally panicked motion, he too makes a grasping motion--
But be as it may, the jostle is enough to completely throw his mind off the course too, and need to play some catch once they reach the ground.
"Guh... you're real..." He starts to say, but then he realizes his hand can feel something... soft? Doughy? His eyes draw down in tandem with Riki's own gaze, to find the sight of his hand... and the placement of it, more specifically.
Without even really realizing it, he ends up giving a briefly-tighter squeeze, just before he's shoved away to rolling onto his back.
"Not really the kind of night I was expecting, tell ya the truth...!" He mutters, flashing a grin in good-enough nature to the woman while he gets up again, in spite of the failure in his earlier gambit. "Seems like I'll have even more reason to do my best, huh?"
He's just about to launch himself right into the Oni again-- but he halts himself short at the sight of her honest to god spitting out flames. His eyes narrow-- he can recognize the danger ahead of him. But still, she's presented him with a challenge. One that he
One that he is actually briefly-hesitant to approach, instead opting to keep his guard up for a moment, while circling around her. Watching. Studying.
"You got some real fire in ya, lady," he rumbles, still keeping up a mirror image of her own grin... you know, other than the lack of actual fangs.
"Why don't ya show me how it burns first?"
COMBATSYS: Tarmo focuses on his next action.
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Riki 1/-----==/=======|-------\-------\0 Tarmo
Power wells up within the ogre, power that most mortals couldn't hope to comprehend or contend with. Fortunately, it is but a fragment of the true inferno that is the kingdom of Lord Enma-O, but even that tiny sliver of its potency is enough to set the mortal flesh currently entrapping her ablaze, unable to contain the spiritual energies completely.
Riki is no stranger to the heat of the hellfire coursing through her body. She is a being of pure spiritual energy, at least in her true form, and that flame burns hot enough to wither even the very souls of those who find themselves damned to the kingdom of Meido once their mortal life has come to its conclusion. Yet, as she calls upon that empowering fire in preparation to unleash some of her greater potential upon the hapless human, she finds that the energies feel different somehow. The heat is more vibrant, more intense than she remembers it being. It wells up inside of her like a raging maelstrom of blazing vitality, its searing might strong enough that she can feel it burning away at her insides.
Is this a gift from her Lord? A burst of hellish power meant to reward her for her diligence and courage? The sky remains pointedly quiet on that subject as she casts her gaze upwards. No flashes of lightning or dull rumbling thunder issues forth to answer her silent query in her lord's typical fashion.
Strange. But she cannot allow herself to get distracted by that riddle now. The heat continues to grow in strength, singing her insides with every moment that she holds it in. Fortunately, she knows just what to do with all that pent up energy.
Turning her attention back to Tarmo, the demon grins at him with renewed amusement writ large across her face. The unnatural flames roiling within and without seem to grow more intense in those few moments, glowing hotter and brighter with every passing second. When she speaks, the interior of her mouth glows as if there is a literal flame burning in her belly, which might well be the case considering how intense she's starting to feel the scorching sensation inside.
"Thou wish to experience the flames of hell? Hahaha! Thy foolishness never seems to end! Very well, mortal! Taste suffering and repent thy sins!"
The earth beneath the giant's feet splits apart as she shifts her weight, the concrete cracking in a spiderweb pattern that spews tiny tendrils of hellish flame into the air. Riki lets out another bellow of challenge as she hurls herself bodily at Tarmo, one of her massive fists drawn back in an obvious but still entirely deadly wind-up for a killer punch. Despite her size, the ogre seems to move with incredible speed, collapsing on top of the Finn in the span of a couple heartbeats.
Blazing red fire erupts around her fist as she swings it forward in a devastating haymaker aimed at his center mass. Riki's eyes widen slightly in surprise as if she herself wasn't even expecting such a thing to occur. But, she recovers quickly, her shock rapidly transforming into gleeful pleasure. The initial punch proves to be nothing more than the opening strike. Moving faster than anything her size has a right to do, the oni's fists become a blur of searing red color as she wails away at Tarmo in a flurry of furious destruction.
The flames about her hands seem to burn with such heat that not even the demon's flesh can withstand it, the skin around her knuckles beginning to turn black and charred from the overwhelming outpouring of power. Riki roars as she lays into him, the pain and elation of this strange swell of power forcing its way out in a wordless bellow. And even that seems to radiate sweltering heat into the air.
COMBATSYS: Tarmo blocks Riki's Raging Demon.
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Riki 0/-------/------=|===----\-------\0 Tarmo
Most people would almost certainly piss themselves and take the shortest route to Anywhere But Here. Some of the spectators might well already be backing off away from the truly demonic display of power Riki displays even before her attack has started.
But Tarmo? Oh, no. It really does seem as though the more powerful his opponent is, all the more overjoyed he is, no matter how much the odds might be stacked against him. His eyes all but shine with joy while he watches her, with all the fire erupting around here.
"Give it to me then!" He declares in urging, with one foot rising up just enough to spread it outwards, slamming down with a hefty stomp, akin to a sumo wrestler preparing for a bout.
And then she comes at him. WIth such speed he nearly misses it just by blinking once--
But in an instant, both his thick, meaty arms are up in front of him, crossed together in front of the blazing fist. Between the sheer shockwave of fire and kinetic energy both, the impact of her massive fist to his thick, log-sized arms ultimately results in the sleeves of his jacket outright evaporating.
The Finn's teeth grit with the ensuing pain, but he stands still. He holds his ground and maintains his guard. Blow after blow after blow that the muscles in his limbs soak up, he still stays standing defiantly before the raging demon.
Up until he sees the smallest opening, to suddenly sweep his arm to the side and redirect one of the follow-up blows from the demonic blonde. Just enough to the side that he could follow up with a quick grab to her side-swept arm and use her own momentum to send her plummeting into the wall of the canal. It's not a particularly powerful shove by his standards, no-- it may well be just for the sole purpose of clearing some space between the two of them.
COMBATSYS: Riki barely endures Tarmo's Quick Throw.
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Riki 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Tarmo
Riki's furious war cry dies out as the last of her punches is pushed aside, a timely maneuver by the foreigner managing to redirect her flaming assault to the side. It doesn't buy him a lot of time but it's enough to slip under her guard and try to dissuade her from continuing the onslaught.
The ogre stumbles sideways, attempting to pivot her momentum in such a way that the throw will leave her in a prime position to retaliate. She somewhat succeeds, managing not to trip over her own big feet in the process of being hauled around, which is an accomplishment in its own right for the often clumsy demon. Strength she has in spades but grace is not one of her strong points.
The effort of her attempt to ride out the swing in an advantageous fashion earns her a sharp wrenching pull at the shoulder when she collides with the wall. A grunt of pain explodes from her lips, the first sign that he might be starting to wear her down. Whatever that hellish assault was it seems she isn't able to maintain that sort of barrage for long. Even now the intense heat is already starting to fade to more reasonable levels though the tips of her hair continue to glow like a lit cigarette.
"Nrgh! Thou have not escaped judgement yet!"
Pushing herself off the wall of the canal, Riki thunders forward in a reckless charge. As usual, it isn't hard to see what she intends. Both arms are extended forward as she closes in, her hands held wide as if preparing to snatch hold of her opponent. Which is precisely what she'll do if he doesn't manage to stop her!
COMBATSYS: Tarmo interrupts Hellish Judgement from Riki with Moukari-Isku EX.
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Riki 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Tarmo
Tarmo's breaths are starting to grow heavier, now. Sweat beading along his brow, dripping along his bare chest and arms, leaving the muscle-stretched with a faint sheen of the perspiration. It's a hell of a workout Riki is giving him, that much is obvious.
"Judge me... hhaaah... As you like then..." The Finn growls just as she bounces herself off from the wall he sent her into. His arms come up, first, to mount a defense--
But of all things, he actually ends up ducking down. It's not usual for an opponent to have height advantage on him, and in contrast, he usually isn't the one taking advantage of being smaller either!
But hell if this isn't the kind of opening he can't help but exploit anyway.
The Finn's head narrowly sweeps just below the demon's reaching arms, and his own arms go wrapping around the woman's waist. Her barreling charge is still a hefty one, and it damn near drives the air out of his lungs when she collides with him like that. But with his arms held tight for a moment around her, he stamps one foot down, bracing it enough to use it as a pivot point that sends the both of them spinning around--
Into a sweep across the channel that sees Riki getting slammed back-first against the opposing wall now, with Tarmo's arms loosening and slipping back just in time to avoid being wedged in between her and the wall before the loudly-resounding, cement-shattering impact.
The momentum does still result in him getting carried further into her, his body ending up all but pressed to hers, and his face... well... cushioned.
In his defense, he doesn't normally fight a woman with the kind of height difference that would allow for *this* kind of accident.
The massive amazon likewise seems to be tiring. While her ages of experience might make her a grizzled veteran in the art of war, she's used to a body that can fight for weeks without tiring. Even the many months she's spent trapped here in the Earthrealm haven't fully broken her of the habits that were forged over centuries. She's prone to using up too much energy, exhausting the weak mortal flesh that, unlike her spiritual form, is quite capable of tiring.
That fatigue slows her down enough that Tarmo is able to slip the noose, barely avoiding being crushed like a beer can by a pair of giant hands that even his bulk wouldn't be able to resist for long. Once again, her own speed and weight is turned into a weapon to be used against her. It's just common sense, very few people are capable of standing up to her directly once she's in motion. She's gotten rather used to stumbling about with her own redirected momentum, as such the impact against the wall isn't quite as titanic as it could have been despite what the minor earthquake might suggest.
Once more her rather bold opponent finds himself in a compromising position. Once is an accident, twice is starting to suggest a pattern. But as before, Riki seems unaffected by the shame or embarrassment this might bring other women. Peeling herself out of the Riki-shaped crater in the canal, she peers down at Tarmo's predicament with a jovial grin. Rather than push him away this time, she reaches down and encircles the Finn with her arms, trapping him quite firmly against her body.
"Thy boldness continues to grow, mortal. Eager as thou might be to take this contest to the bedroom, I believe we are not yet finished with the match."
Fresh hellfire begins to lick at him from all around as the demon's eyes start glow. The putrid stench of brimstone becomes almost overwhelming in such close proximity as the demonic power starts to gather up within her, a sharp cloying odor not unlike rotten eggs. Not the most pleasant perfume for a lady to wear on Earthrealm perhaps but it's all the rage down in the depths of the underworld.
"I hope thou hath a plan to extricate thyself from this... unfortunate blunder."
She grins at him even more broadly, her biceps flexing as she starts to crush him against her. Perhaps its just the position that he finds himself in but the sensation is a lot softer than he might have expected. The rising heat quickly starts to make proximity with her a great deal less pleasant, however. Already her hair is starting to shimmer like iron fresh from a forge while tiny tongues of flame lick at the inside of her mouth as if trying to escape.
"It hath better be an impressive trick. Because mine next strike will certainly be the end of thee!"
COMBATSYS: Riki is starting to get fired up!
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Riki 1/-----==/=======|=====--\-------\0 Tarmo
Though Tarmo might not actually have any complaints to offer regarding the position he's found himself, he does still present a protest to Riki regarding his original intentions with the counter that ended up resulting in this situation!
Unfortunately for Tarmo, seeing as Riki is making a point of keeping him squeezed up to her, the sounds that do leave him don't come out as anything intelligible thanks to the muffling caused by the woman's close and, er, abundant cushioning pressing against his face that just barely lets him peek up at her face.
And as comfortable as being snuggled up to her might be otherwise, the warning signs of the rising heat do give the Finn the very clear sign that he needs to get out of this situation and *fast*. Through instinct alone his body begins to writhe and wriggle within her grasp already while his brain racks itself for some clever solution--
And in the end, the only thing he has to fall back on is his own pure strength.
While he might not be able to completely free himself from her grasp, he does manage to push her arms up enough to give some freedom of motion to his own limbs. And in quick order, she will see his powerfully-muscled arms wrapping about her waist all over again while he deliberately pushes himself further into her burning form and coils his legs to gather strength in them.
It requires a truly herculean effort, to be certain. But if Tarmo is able to gather that much strength, then that will prove to help him take advantage of Riki's own choice of keeping him so close, in the form of a sudden hoisting up into the air -- and a further push in the form of one of his feet kicking at the wall behind her to send both of them up. Twisting and turning back in the air, then, to flip their bodies around, in a desperate suplex aiming to similiarly make use of their height difference, again, to slam the top of her head down into the ground behind him!
COMBATSYS: Riki blocks Tarmo's Pommitus.
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Riki 1/---====/=======|=====--\-------\0 Tarmo
Silly mortals. You'd think they'd learn sooner or later. Pitting himself in a contest of strength directly opposed to the demon's own has not yet proven to be a particularly effective course of action and this time isn't any different.
Riki's grin remains frustratingly unfazed as the human attempts to wriggle himself free from the bear trap that he unwittingly threw himself into. Eventually he manages to squeeze out just enough space to use his arms but even that proves to be an almost impossible task as the steadily building heat quickly starts to sap away at his remaining strength.
"What troubles thee, mortal? Thy strength seems to be waning! Is the heat too much for thee?"
Her laughter rumbles through the darkness as she begins to glow like a pyre, her demonic flames adding to the dramatic illumination cast by the rows of burning barrels. Struggle as he might, it seems as if the demon is simply too strong to overcome. For a few brief moments there seems to be a glimmer of hope as the Finn puts everything he has left into a final desperate attempt to slip free of her grasp. His mighty grip tightens around her waist as he crouches, attempting to hurl both himself and the demon skyward.
Alas, it seems that his cunning plan may not have been so clever after all. Seeming to have anticipated just such an attempt, Riki shifts her posture at the last moment just before he jumps, leaning heavily to one side. The planned vertical power bomb instead becomes an uncontrolled sideways flop that sends both combatants rolling across the arena floor in a heap of tangled limbs.
Despite her efforts to direct the worst of the impact towards her opponent, Riki still comes out of the messy tumble the worse for wear. A few angry red patches dot her arms and legs where bits of skin have been scraped off by the cement. A stinging injury but not a particularly dangerous one, though beneath the superficial wounds she can feel her flesh starting to wear out. It won't be much longer before it simply stops responding to her commands, no matter how much she might want to keep the brawl going. Time to wrap things up with a dramatic finish.
Somewhere along their pell-mell tumble, Riki's grip on the human seems to falter and the two of them wind up sprawled a fair distance apart, her greater mass carrying her further along the canal. Rising to her feet with a little more effort than usual, the demon turns to give the burly wrestler another grin. Her eyes blaze with fresh hellish power, another swirling surge of unnatural flame churning within.
"A good effort! But this is where our game comes to an end!"
Reaching up with one hand, Riki's fingers grip tightly around the bright red horn protruding from her forehead. A flash of reddish power floods from between her fingers and she grits her teeth, tugging on the crimson spike with obvious effort. An audible wave of astonishment travels through the spectators as the horn suddenly comes free from its seating in her forehead.
Rather than a spray of blood or some vile display of gore, what follows after the horn is a thick length of dull black iron. Riki lets out a sharp growl as she yanks the rest of the object free, revealing it to be an impossibly huge club of solid metal. Easily as tall as the demon herself, there is no obvious explanation how such a thing could have been hiding inside of her skull. But impossible or not, the knobbed kanabo now clutched in her mitts is very much real.
"Do not worry, little man," Riki says, hefting the weapon up to rest it against her shoulder. She gives Tarmo a smug smirk, flashing her fangs at him once more. With her iconic weapon now in hand and her eyes ablaze with radiant fire, she looks very much the part of a proper oni - huge, arrogant, and menacing. "I promise I shall try not to break /all/ thy bones!"
Tilting her head back to give a final roar of dominance to the pitch black sky, the ogre comes for him. Attempting to engage the demon when she was unarmed has already proven to be an uphill battle. Now things are just plain unfair. The sheer size of the weapon allows her to lay into him from nearly ten feet away, the length of her arms combined with its long haft offering unparalleled reach. The club makes audible whooshing noises as it swings through the air in deadly arcs. Each blow is a titanic arcing smite that could likely snap full grown trees in half like toothpicks. Each wild miss puts fresh craters into the canal, sending shattered chunks of powdery concrete flying in all directions like miniature detonations of shrapnel. And should he find himself caught in the maelstrom of whirling iron, the final blow would see him lifted up by the weapon and slammed down hard to create one final thunderous impact.
COMBATSYS: Tarmo endures Riki's Oni ni Kanabo but gets knocked away!
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > ]
Riki 0/-------/-------|=======\=====--\1 Tarmo
At least Tarmo isn't caught within a blazing fire anymore, even if he didn't quite manage to drive the Oni's head into the ground as he might have wished. Not that he can really consider the folley of his actions too much while he's rolling across the hard, cold cement.
His body's slowly reaching it's limit, however. He shakes subtly as he forces himself back up to his feet through sheer defiance...
Just in time to see his opponent tear her horn off, just for it to turn into a massive club.
Tarmo might still hold the usual degree of awe over his opponent, but it doesn't quite come through the same way anymore. Less a grin now, and more him just staring with mouth agape at the otherwordly display of self-armament.
His body doesn't answer him like it should anymore. It's all he can do to just force his arms up to try to so-
It's no use. The first strike from the enormous club alone is enough to nearly cause him to black out. And then come more. A whirlwind of iron seemingly striking him from every single possible angle all at once, straining muscle and bone both.
Defiantly, when there seems to be just the tiniest break in between the swipes, the bearish finn stomps forward with one fist raised up, poised to drive it into his opponent with a furious battlecry.
A battlecry that is cut short just the same as the intended punch when an explosive, spear-like thrust slams square into his gut with such force that he is sent flying straight back, slamming against the wall of the channel with a shockwave blasting through the air. The cement cracks and shatters, flooding the air with light-grey dust.
And amongst it all, Tarmo has been left laying limply against the cratered wall, with his eyes rolled up in their sockets. The cracks continue to spread and web further along the wall, until... the lower portion just begins to crumble. Making way for an enormous chunk above Tarmo's head to fall down, poised to squish him underneath it's weight...
But. Only one end of it reaches the ground, having slammed just inches ahead of Tarmo's feet. It wobbles, it heaves--
And then rises up, revealing the Finn standing defiantly there, with all the muscles in his body swelling and flexing from the effort of holding up the gargantuan chunk of environment.
"Hhhh... this has... been a lot of fun..." He rumbles past grit teeth, managing only the weakest of smiles at his opponent. "Here's... one last... gift from me..."
A powerful stomp forward, a wild roar. One final, defiant attack in the form of the absurd improvised weapon getting swung from overhead at Riki.
One final swing, the momentum of which finally sweeps Tarmo's own weight with it, seeing his body falling face-first onto the ground regardless of if the cement slab hits her or not.
COMBATSYS: Tarmo can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\ <
COMBATSYS: Tarmo successfully hits Riki with Raskaat Tyokalut EX.
[ \\\\\\ <
The oni lets out an exultant cry as her final blow sends Tarmo blasting away like a cue ball on the end of her mace. She shows little regard for whatever sort of horrific damage her wild rampage might have wrecked upon his body. In much the same fashion as she had offered him the deadly divine brew, he had been warned that facing her in battle would be a dangerous prospect. Even if it is just a exhibition match, demons aren't well known for their discipline and restraint.
The thrill of claiming another victory is all the sweeter for how much effort it had taken. She isn't used to being pushed to her limits in such a manner. While her body might be a construct of flesh bound to the laws of mortal capability, it is a particularly well crafted vessel. Powerful, resilient, and enduring. Perhaps she had just been overeager to indulge in the joy of combat again after several weeks of drought, a bit too reckless with her aggression. Or perhaps the big man was simply capable of pushing her this far. He certainly was foolish enough to throw himself bodily at her, though that clearly didn't work out for him particularly well in the long run.
"Are you still alive, mortal?"
Riki tilts her head to the side, resting the kanabo on her shoulder like a major league batter might. She peers at the slumped over form curiously, only the barest hint of concern noticeable in her voice. While protecting the innocent might be her sacred duty as a divine guardian, no one said anything about protecting anyone foolish enough to challenge her to a contest of might. If he is worthy enough to call himself a warrior then he can accept the consequences of his own choices. Death is an ever-present possibility for any mortal. Few have the honor of being clobbered into paste by someone of her divine heritage, especially after nuzzling up against her so brazenly!
A sharp cracking sound from above draws all eyes up towards the concrete barrier, Riki's included. Several gasps and panicked screams start to mingle in the air as it becomes obvious that a huge chunk of the wall it about to come down. The ogre frowns, shifting her club to a more ready grip in case she needs to whack some errant bits of debris away but otherwise leaves the Finn to his fate. If the gods have ordained that today is his time to go, she's got no business interfering in a warrior's death.
When the concrete slab comes crashing down Riki shrugs and turns to walk away. A shame. He wasn't the brightest mortal but he had guts. Hopefully Ayame will be too busy to poke her nose into the League. No doubt the little miko would foist responsibility for this onto--
Fresh noise from behind makes her pause. Blinking in surprise, Riki turns around to see the foreigner, not only alive but still kicking as well. She gawks at him openly as he gathers up the strength to heave the massive concrete chunk in her direction, too stunned to respond properly. After a couple of seconds the misfire in her brain finally sorts itself out and she moves, though a little too late. The heavy club swings up to smash the toppling stone with a mighty upwards swing but she only manages to slows it descent rather than smash the thing apart.
This time it's Riki's turn to display a final heroic feat of strength. She lets out a grunt of effort as she rises to her feet, shrugging the heavy slab off her back with a heaving push. Pushed to its limits, the concrete block shatters apart upon hitting the ground a third time. Letting out a sharp exhalation of relief, the oni leans on her club for a few seconds and tilts her head to give Tarmo a suspicious side-eye. She's half tempted to go over there and give him another whack just to make sure. Fortunately, one of the organizers rushes out to declare the match's conclusion before she has the chance to follow through on that thought.
Returning the club to its hiding place, Riki turns and trudges over to the gourd, abandoned at the start of their battle. She hefts it up and tilts her head back, guzzling greedily from the sacred wine. After chugging what must be enough booze to kill a small elephant, the demon finally lowers the container and lets out a deep resounding burp. Her cheeks flushed and rosy, she turns and staggers off into the night in more or less the general direction of home.
If only every night could be this fun!
The battle was a fierce one, and for all the defiant feats of strength that the Finn managed to leverage against the Oni through it all, even after being so thoroughly pummeled... in the end, he doesn't manage to force himself to moving even after the organizers have called out Riki's victory. For a good moment, he remains in perfect stillness, silent. Knocked out cold, perhaps...
But just after the Oni has turned to begin her leave, there's the subtlest of stirs, a low groan of pain.
If she cares to look back, she'll see Tarmo... well, still laid out in a pile of hurt down there, but he's at least managed to lift and turn his head to direct a weak smile after her.
"Let's... do this again sometime... huh?"
Log created on 21:05:36 05/27/2021 by Riki, and last modified on 09:14:07 05/28/2021.