Description: It's a fun little date in Chinatown as two terrible contests are undertaken by Tarmo and Shina. One a test of physical and mental acuity that takes everything two have in order to surpass. The other is a fight in a carpark.
"I ain't doin' anythin' right now, ya wanna come see where I got those buns?"
It was a fairly simple invitation that Shina got. And truth be told, as far as excuses go to hang out with someone go, it was a pretty flimsy one, all told. Not that the boisterous finn really is the type to put much thought on to things like this.
And the invitation brought her right to the long foot street cutting through chinatown. Perpetually busy with pedestrians on thheir way through along the multitude of businesses and restaurants here -- or the equally large amount of food carts lining the center line of the street that fill the air with the alluring scents of variois delicious streed foods fried and grilled.
And her mark is found the instant she sets foot on the mouth of the street. Even on a place like this, it's easy to spot the massive Finn towering over everyone else: caught up by some meat cart, idly nibbling on skewered pieces of chicken. And he has now even finally forfeited to the heat of the summer, and forsaken his usual jacket... in favor of actually just going completely topless What an absolute goober.
Jeanne "Shina" Gado wasn't about to turn down the opportunity to know where good food would be in Southtown. Even if that did mean Chinatown and its noise and smells. A kind of place that screamed of a seedy underbelly with bright lights, noise, and potential for thrilling conflict around every corner. A please where Shina would thrive as a young mercenary. Where everyone needed someone else fought and would plenty of dosh to avoid bloodying their own knuckles.
But since the workshop was shut down. Since she came out of that place, she'd been a bit too sensitive to the sights and sounds. Too keyed in and too quick to show her claws. And now they were literal. It was one thing to love a good fight, a wholly different one to be a berserker. And in that difference lay her honor as a mercenary. The principles her adoptive father instilled in her. Principles he may not be faltering in.
But the weight of thoughts are quickly dissolved in the enticing pull of the dining line. Close in crowds clamor for their share of the customer base. Offers called out, promises made and broken. From sweet to savory to spice, anything might yet be possible to find here. Or maybe it's just mostly meat on sticks and noodles. That works too. Shina isn't a picky girl.
As a fashion plate, the big Finn stands out among his peers. It makes it easy for Shina to find him. Harder should be slipping the crowds to get to him. But it's a task Shina makes easy. And when she finds him, she greets with a heavy slap at the base of his back. The higher parts of the torso are a little too tall to clap onto. "Why don't you wear a flag? It was almost impossible to see you in all these people."
She grins up at Tarmo, it carries a faint grimace of someone in a position just outside of comfort. Dealing as she is with the sounds and smells and sights all around being just a little much. But she needs to bring herself to habituation to these kinds of things once more.
Shina could surely get a pretty weighty clap even against Tarmo, but the massive finn doesn't so much as twitch on the initial contact. But it *is* enough to draw his attention for sure -- right in the middle of his teeth getting sunk into a big chunk of barbaqued chicken on a skewer.
"Mmmpphph?" The northerner mumbles out past the mouthful while his head turns to direct his eyes to the side and then down over to Shina. The piece of meat is quickly torn off the rest of the way and swallowed, to free the space for him to flash a toothy grin to the woman.
"I thought about it," his voice rumbles, loud enough to carry easily over the ambient noises of the busy street. "I also considered a jacket with, like, neon lights on it. To really make sure you'd find me, huh?"
A throaty chuckle, and the skewer - with a couple pieces of chicken still impaled on it - is held over to her. "How ya been? Those chucklefucks give ya any more trouble?"
Shina shrugs up at Tarmo's mumble of potential indignance while most of her attention was focused on the skewered meat in Tarmo's hand. She blinks when he brings up the two goons that had accosted them before. She shrugs the thought off, quite literally, with a casual shake of her head. "Haven't seen them since that fight. But I'm not afraid. Not after that showing. Let the little gang boss play tough at me."
Shina points to the chicken. "So where did you get that? Because it looks good, and I don't want to stare at all of these carts." She slips her hands into the back pockets of her cargo pants. "And I cannot let you get a head start in the food, non?"
She laughs. Light hearted and carefree. Her mission statement for her time with the Finn is to find the fun in things. Not dwell on her personal problems or some mid-level mobster's wrath.
"I didn't figure you would be afraid of some idiots like that," Tarmo notes with a waggling gesture made with the skewer of chicken. "Just wanted to be sure I didn't miss any fun while I was looking away from ya, eh?"
But then, he's slooowly quirking one thick brow at the woman, followed by his lips twisting steadily towards a wicked sort of smile.
"Right behind me basically," he offers in answer to her question proper with a jerk of a thumb over a bare shoulder. "But if you want to make this a race, then..." Suddenly, he snaps the skewer up, shoving it and the meat impaled on it into his mouth! And when he pulls it out again, it has been cleaned of the delicious morsels of barbaqued goodnes. "Mmmh. You're already late to the starting line!"
A quick look to make sure of the lay of the land. The sight of the site of the barbecue gets her attention. "I'll catch up with you," she tell Tarmo, knocking on his arm with the back of her hand in parting.
She is not gone long. But in the time she is, a simple yatai wheels through the group to find a place among the other carts. The rotund man pushing the cart waves a fan in the heat, he wears a silly looking Tengu mask, and a loosely tied top. A goofy looking middle aged man offering his noddles like so many others.
It doesn't take long for Shina to return to Tarmo with a triumphant look about her and a skewer in hand. "Alright. We begin now!" she says before she takes a tearing bite out of the chicken. It's a moment before her eyes go wide and happy at the succulent barbecue taste bursts from the food.
The yatai isn't given much thought to by Tarmo. It's not that he's entirely oblibious to his surroundings typically, but... he can get very focused on specific things. And right now, that particular specific thing is *this*. The plethora of food lining the entirety of this street -- and for that matter, that look of pure joy on Shina's face when she gets the bite of the barbacued mana.
"Good, huh?" The Finn rumbles with a brief bark of laughter, turning to give a light clap to the woman's back with his enormous hand and urge her along to stepping with him. To the next cart! "Street food might not be fancy gourmet stuff, but it sure hits the right spot."
Speaking of noodles, he barely has even finished that sentence before he's already dipped into another cart (Wait, wasn't there a line?) and come back with a steaming bowl of ramen mixed with grilled veggies and bits of pork in sauce.
"This kinda thing is one of the things I really like about big cities--" He goes on, only to pause for a few seconds to bring up a good heaping of noodles and pork with two chopsticks he apparently has much less trouble with handling than most foreigners, magicing them away into his hungry maw with a *SLURP!* and a low groan of satisfaction. "...Even if I kinda like spendin' my time in smaller places otherwise, ya know? There's like a million different things to taste and try."
"So good!" Shina agrees with a pep coming over her in that moment. She hadn't considered how hungry that she is in actuality. She's just as quick to follow Tarmo, as well, using the bigger man as a sort of ice-breaker ship to allow her swift passage through the crowds and lines.
She pops out, gnawing on the barbeque stick while Tarmo orders the noodles. She considers the veggie heavy meal but decides the kind of carbo loading is not what she wants to take part in. "This one is all yours. I'm going to find something with more bite," she tells Tarmo, slipping from the Finn's wake to find something with spice.
Split up, she tells herself, she can find more and better options. Then coming together will mean having covered more grounds. Internally, she's already decided that a food race might not be in her favor, but she bets she can find the better meat out of the duo.
"Bite?" The Finn manages to mumble past another slurp of noodles with a briefly-confused blink of his eyes. After the carb explosion has been properly inhaled, the meaning behind the word catches on properly -- and he can't help but flash a wicked grin after Shina before she's fully turned away. "Figures you'd be the type for spicy stuff, huh?"
The noodles themselves are hoovered up pretty quickly, and Tarmo does set to seperate from Shina... only to halt momentarily to look back over his shoulder.
He's not entirely sure what he's looking for, among the crowds there. He might not be particularly observant, but the odd feeling still hits him briefly. Long enough for him to frown for just a few seconds at the crowds -- before quite literally shrugging that feeling off, and setting off to browse the goods again.
It takes a while of delighting in the foods offered among the streets, but eventually Tarmo actually finds the cart that he'd originally tempted Shina to coming over this way with. But despite his original boasts of trying to go for some kind of bizarre, undefined race, he doesn't actually go scarfing down with that one right away.
Instead, he finds himself with a take-away bag full of chinese meat buns -- and roaming through the crowds, trying to find his friend again. She is, unfortunately, not as large as he is, so she doesn't quite stand out to him and his lesser senses as well as he did to her.
A spicy dish of dumplings packed with the kind of heat that Shina was looking for now sits in a fat and happy back clutched in her right hand. She's not too terribly troubled at keeping an eye on the big man, figuring she can just look slightly above eyeline in order to see the man. Even if she is not as tall as he, she's on the taller side and her unique blonde hairstyle makes her stand out in the Chinatown crowds.
But it is, as to be expected, Tarmo's height that allows Shina to pop up nearby and hold up the bag of treats with triumph. "These!" she tells him, "You have to try." Her insistence comes with a quick hand and a sudden bun that reeks of spice and salt held up toward Tarmo's towering jaws. "These are going to weep," she says, relishing a tiny degree of sadistic schadenfraude that comes from watching people eat spicy things.
Or maybe the big Finn will prove himself the powerhouse of palates and take everything in stride. Either way, Shina is certain to get a show.
But not far away, shoveling noodles into a cup, the fat man in the tengu mask watches through the side gaps of his face covering. The puffed face and silly expression of the mask doing well to hide his true targets.
Tarmo himself probably expected that Shina would ultimately end up spotting him before he spotted her. But he might have still held out some little hope that he could have actually snuck up on her for a change.
Kind of hard to be sneaky when you're his size, though.
This time he does actually twitch in a jumpy little motion out of surprise, too, what with the blonde actually shoving a bun towards his face, leaving him staring down at the offered treat with eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.
And that looks turns into one of suspicion for a few seconds. Like there's definitely some kind of trick behind this. But Tarmo being Tarmo, he can't really bring himself to deny an offer of shared food either.
And since she's holding the bun that high up already, he elects to not reach for it with his hand. Instead dipping in close enough to snatch it up with his teeth right out of her hand-- tipping his head back far enough after to let the treat fall into his mouth fully.
Chew. Chew. Chew. So far so good. He doesn't seem to be reacting at all to the spice.
"Well," he says then, with a toothy smile. "That's pretty go-"
The Finn's jaw is left hanging open for a good moment while he just sort of... stares off forward blankly. And steadily, beads of sweat begin to drip down across his forehead, and the skin of his cheeks where they're not hidden by facial hair is shaded in bright red color.
".......T-thats.... pretty... hhh... good..." He's at least trying to play it off. Keep a straight face and not react. But it's obvious. It BURNS.
A rich, meaty pork doused in furious pepper sauce and packed with tiny strips of carrot that gamely attempt to undercut the spiciness with a dry sweetness, the bun's contents are strong enough to power through the sticky dough of its bao wrapper. And it is that punch that Shina is waiting for as she watches the Finn start to sweat under the intensity of the snack. She snickers at the sight, but she's also breaking out a dumpling of her own to stuff into her mouth.
What is good for gander is indeed very good for the goose in this case. She is, simply, just as quick for her own face to shift a few steps toward red and for her eyes to water with the spicy joy. Her fingertips grip harder and harder on the bag, tearing tiny holes as the tips of her fingers thicken and split with rending claws that start to do that very job to the bag of goodies.
Eyes wide and wet, she leans forward and almost breaks. Her free hand slaps against Tarmo's chest once, twice, and then she manages a swallow and a gasping, cooling breath. The breath drifts to a laugh and she looks up at Tarmo. "C'est bon, non?" she coughs out between gouts of laughter.
For a moment though, there is a look in her eye. A thin, predatory pupil narrowed by sudden and intense pain and survival need. But it slicks to human when the threat of spicy pain passes. Shina thrives in the rush, whether it's a ring, or just some particularly spicy food.
Well, at least Shina isn't taking the chance to call Tarmo out on how the bun's contents are burning him through to the soul. The fact that she's sharing in that equal measure of pleasure does help dampen things a bit, too.
Not that his face is getting any *less* red, mind you. He actually starts coughing even before her hand finds it's way to slapping at his broad, firm chest -- and his massive paw goes grasping right over hers. As if that might provide further support in this particular fiery time of need.
"S-s-sure," he utters out in the middle of a rough cough of pain, voice all breathy and panting with the illusion of the need for ventilation growing. "R-real good..."
His eyes meet hers, then. In that brief instant the strange look crosses her eyes. The more beastial vision. The Finn's eyes blink even in the wake of the sweat-inducing heat inside of him -- but it might very well be gone quick enough that he may be left wondering if he actually even saw it in the first place. Or if the spice is causing him to hallucinate.
The true esprit de corps of shared suffering! The young "Fighting Marvel" finds that in her moment of sharing the pointlessly overly spiced pork bun with a Finnish giant. And she shows that feeling while wheezing painfully and laughing at their stupid looking faces. She punches Tarmo's chest, not with any intent, just a slug as she keeps trying to gulp down enough air to cool herself down. In the moments she does, she pulls herself away from the near release of her concentration. Eyes widening to human, and the claws on her hands becoming short and well maintained cuticles once again.
The holes in bun bag remain, however, slices in the paper sack.
Finally reclaiming herself from the heat, she laughs and steps back from Tarmo, wiping her lip with the back of her fist. "Okay, okay, okay, that was better than it should have been. I thought it would just be hot." She holds the bag up for Tarmo. "More?"
Tarmo's sturdiness does mean that she can probably get away with a punch with a much more satisfying *thump* to his chest than she would with most people without getting some unintended hurt involved. The coughing that still continues from the finn has much more to do with the nearly-debilitating spiciness of the food than it does with the blow from her knuckles.
"You... hhh... Have an interestin'... taste for sure..." The Finn rumbles amidst those coughs, now needing to even wipe his hand across his forehead to clean off the beads of sweat drawn out by the Spice. "Weren't kiddin' about bite..."
Though even he gives a curious look at the tears left behind in the bag in the wake of her momentary spill of wildness. Tarmo's eyes narrow at it, first-- only to flick right back up to meet Shina's eyes with a surprised blink. "N-nah, I'm... I think I'm good," he murmurs in declination of the offer with a rapid shake of his head. "You still wanting more even after it made you grip that thing *that* tight?" Apparently not *entirely* aware of the brief presence of claws.
Shina looks proud of herself at Tarmo's judgment on her tastes. To her, it's a badge of honor. As much of one as drinking hard or fighting. So she stands to bask in the acknowledgement of the foolish bravado. But that moment of potential happiness is dashed at the question.
She looks at the bag and frowns a little bit. And then she shrugs. "Okay, you called it out. Couldn't keep it this way forever." She opens the top of the bag for a new bun. Holding it in hand, she sniffs and takes a more tepid bite of the bun.
Chewing, facing the heat, she looks at Tarmo with all honesty and states with blunt intent, "You really want to see my cut loose in a fight?"
Tarmo's head cocks sideways slightly while he still maintains his eyes on the woman. More curiously now. The look might be undercut a bit by the lingering effects of the killer spices that were inflicted upon him, but that doesn't take away his own confusion on the meaning behind her words.
And the question from her brings him to steel himself towards a more firm posture, to wash away the pain left behind from the bun -- and let himself give a much more decisive look upon the blonde.
"Absolutely," he rumbles, with a slight inclination of his head in a nod. "Want nothing else more."
Shina's look is a serious one. But then she cracks the smallest smile of sharp-edged interest. "Good," she says. A look at her bun bag and seems to get an idea. "Loser buys the winner a round. C'mon."
Too many people around in Chinatown proper. At least within the streets and narrows of food cart and yatai central. Shina knows a throwdown can't be done here. Her eyes dart this way and that. And she sniffs at the air. Something catches her attention and she nods toward Tarmo. "Let's go. This way. Think there's less people here."
Now is her turn to act the ice-breaker. She moves forward, cutting through the crowds with a purpose. Twist left, twist right, she steps around and slides past the dinners, breaking lines, breaking groups, in her way toward an alley. Down a set of steps. Down a way and finding a route into an underground carpark. A place dotted with a few cars and fewer people. Where the light hangs low and dim, maintenance cuts and unconcern left this place with a certain quietude and ragged peace.
Despite the kind of serious look Tarmo might be unused to seeing on Shina's face, the quick implication of a fight to be is quick to get the Finn's face lighting up, and his feet to stomping along and carrying him after her.
The purpose she's leading him along with is another point of curiousity. Maybe bit of admiration, too, just the force of will alone that she manages to carve a path through the otherwise blocking crowds like that. "Don't think I've seen you even vaguely like this before," he murmurs from behind her, just loud enough for her to hear even amidst it all.
But it doesn't keep him from following. Certainly doesn't drive away his eagerness to see the woman cut loose, like she promised.
Dipping into the undergroudn car park earns a fairly approving look from him, after he's taken the few moments to study the lay of the land. "Think most of these are probably from commuters and what have you," he suggests. "Shouldn't be coming around to get in the way anytime soon."
"You haven't seen me much," Jeanne Gado says. Walking ahead of the Finn, she looks back over her shoulder to him. A quick toss sends the bag of buns to flop atop the trunk of a nearby car. A steady, single breath brings the muscles of her back to rise and fall.
She adjusts the strap of her fingerless gloves and rolls her neck. "Underground pit fights are not bread and butter to me. They pass the time. I am a mercenary. I live to fight. And me, I fight certain kinds of things."
She turns about to face Tarmo. "This time, it's no show. Give me the best you have, big man. Impress me and I'll show you what I'm all about."
COMBATSYS: Shina has started a fight here.
Now Tarmo's eyes narrow at her. Mercenary. He knew about that already, but he hadn't entirely considered the weight of it. He fought for the sake of fighting. On the streets, in the ring. She fought on the actual battlefield.
And not only that, she says she fights certain *things*. A few things pop to his mind as possibilities for what exactly she means. But...
Now is really not the time to be lost in contemplating that very much. For she has given him a challenge and a promise both.
"...You know I wouldn't have it any way," the Finn rumbles, while he tips his head from one side to the other to stretch out his neck, drawing out a few quiet pops from the joints. "So in that case..."
A deep, steadying breath-- and in the next instant, Tarmo's eyes flash with all-too-eager focus, and his massive form is barreling right across the empty space to bring him for her.
"I'll have to come at you hard enough to make you try to kill me!!"
The charge comes to a sudden halt with one foot stomping down hard onto the curb ahead of Shina -- but the leftover momentum of it is used to bring his other foot swinging over forward, sweeping for her and arcing up high enough for his heel to point nearly directly upwards. The boot-clad foot is not held there for more than half a second, however, before it's plummeting right back down again, to bring it stomping down on the shorter woman.
COMBATSYS: Tarmo has joined the fight here.
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Tarmo 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shina
COMBATSYS: Shina blocks Tarmo's Kirvespotku.
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Tarmo 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Shina
Big and quick. The kind of approach that Shina can appreciate. She's seen him before, though, and she wonders if he's the kind of big guy that's open to falling victim to the same tricks. She plants her position, not using speed or momentum at the moment. She takes the brunt of the heavy kick on crossed forearms. A heavy grunt of exertion as she fights against his bulk, boots sliding on the pavement.
"Nothing less on the battlefield!" she calls back from under his crushing step. And that's when she makes her attack. Shoving aside Tarmo's foot, she spins back on her heel and slides closer in to him. Purple lightning crackles at her ankles and over the soles of her boots. It bursts out with a series of sharp and bullet precise kicks for Tarmo's chest.
Where he's struck with the force of a howitzer, she blazes in like a machine gun spraying for the body of her target.
COMBATSYS: Shina successfully hits Tarmo with Trident Shout.
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Tarmo 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Shina
She's still just as fast as he remembers. Even before she's really shown him what she's about. The consideration behind that does frighten him a bit. But at the same time, it also excites him.
Excites him, even while he's getting viciously struck by lightning-like energy and a machinegun burst of kicks both. He never evne had the chance to bring up his arms in the wake of his high axe kick getting swept aside to carry his weight with him.
"Ggghhh--!" The Finn growls from the weight of it all, only managing to barely stomp his feet down properly after that initial jostling from his attack being shoved away, so that he might end up merely skidding along the groudn instead of falling over whole.
"Gghh-- you're fuckin' strong--!" He rumbles, somehow managing to keep himself steady long enough to withstand up to the point where the kicks halt and give him an opening to move for himself again.
With a low grunt, he quickly stomps back towards her, trying to grab onto her arm while she's still recoiling back from her own series of kicks. It's not exactly a complicated technique or grab of any form -- just enough of a shove to try and slam her down to the floor for a moment.
COMBATSYS: Shina interrupts Improvised Throw from Tarmo with Rising Razor.
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Tarmo 0/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Shina
COMBATSYS: Shina blitzes into action and acts again!
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Tarmo 0/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Shina
Tarmo grips onto Shina's hand. His hold tight, firm around her wrist and forearm. She is not the largest of humans, particularly compared to the strength and size of Tarmo. But as he maneuvers her to slam her down to the pavement, he sees a change come over his opponent.
From under his hand bursts a rapidly spreading pelt of fur; a vibrant yellow-tan and spotted with thick rosettes. The change passes over Shina with a liquid ripple of her own body as it's overtaken by a beast. Muscle and sinew snap and twist as mass builds and the monster within the mercenary breaks free from its bonds. Tarmo looks at close in eyes slicking yellow with slit pupil, cold and predator as the young woman's face twists to the distant glare of a wild leopard.
Muscles knot and ripple as she twists toward the man, claws bursting free, their razor edged tips sparking with the same violet violent chi that she had just pummeled him with. She rolls back with a roar, and the cat's claws cut. A raking rip upward. She grips onto the Finn and rakes him into the air. Left lingering in the moment like a bird snatched from the sky.
But as he drifts back down, he can see the woman's body ripple again, twisting down to her human self in a low crouch with her arm cocked and ready. She bides her time all coiled and taut and ready to pounce. "Try this for strength! GYAHHH!" her cry tilts to the inhuman yowl of a jungle cat as her body rips forward with violent speed and furious lightning. Shina leaps for the falling Tarmo, swinging a raging right cross to connect with his descent. Setting out to prove that in this fight, lightning strikes twice.
COMBATSYS: Tarmo interrupts Assault Blow from Shina with Moukari-Isku EX.
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Tarmo 1/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Shina
The sound of surprise is brought out equally by the vision of Shina's change and the quick strike with claws that hoists even him and his heavy form up into the air. He wasn't sure what exactly he was expecting when she promised to show him her going all out-- but this is probably, almost definitely not it.
ANd yet, deep inside of him, he can feel himself happy to have actually seen it. To have seen the truth of the beast inside her.
And he wants nothing mor ethan to take that beast down now. To the point that while he witnesses her form shift back towards something more human, he actually seems disappointed for just the fraction of a second.
And down he falls, right towards that hook. But his large hand thrusts right in, massive paw slamming into her knuckles. The force of the crossing punch itself jostles deep into his bone -- but he persists in spite of it, with fingers clamping down into her hand.
It gives enough of a push there to let him shove his other hand slam down into her opposing shoulder. It's not so much a shove or even a grapple anymore. It's simple a maneuver to make sure that his fall directs him right down on top of her -- with all of the weight behind his enormous form.
And right down to the floor the both of them go, with her brought down to be squashed between the floor and Tarmo's weight, with cement-cracking force.
"That..." He groans out with a breathy laugh. "That was... nnnhhh, fuck... worth waiting for...!"
A clever retort to a physical assault. Grabbed, cracked, crushing down. Shina hits the pavement. The breath squeezed from her body. The pressure keeping her down, down, down with Finnish bulk. She knows she just gave him a taste of things for now. But he's seen her. What she is inside. What she really is.
And she's having a ball.
She's down though, and she needs to find a way out of this position. A twist of her crushed position. She reaches for his arms, something to grab onto so she can squirm out of the position to get her legs about Tarmo's head and bring him crashing down to the ground.
Anything she can use to yank herself out of the current situation at hand.
COMBATSYS: Tarmo endures Shina's Medium Throw.
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Tarmo 1/-----==/=======|=======\==-----\1 Shina
She wriggles under his weight, her legs come reaching around him. But just before they clamp down-- his hand suddenly slips up, in the middle of her re-maneuver. It doesn't stop him from getting rolled over with a weighty *THUD* of his back onto the floor, no. But it does stop her from securing proper hold, at the very least.
"Rrrrh... Thought you woulda wanted... dinner or something before this kinda thing...!" Tarmo growls down there with a joyous laugh painting the joking words. And with his hand wedged between his head and her legs, he manages to clamp down hard on her thigh, and that roll continues. Knee propping into the floor to suddenly hoist him up, too -- and pull her off of him, and simply swing her down towards the floor by that hold on her limb even while he continues his rise.
COMBATSYS: Shina fails to counter Hakkaa Paalle from Tarmo with Mad Trap.
-@- Dazing Hit! -@-
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Tarmo 0/-------/---====|=======\=------\1 Shina
Tarmo's fingers dig tightly into that thigh, on the way to swinging her down into the cement flooring of the parking lot. Only releasing after the fact -- and even then just long enough to adjust his hold to her ankle while her back is still on the ground.
"I'm not done yet--!!!"
Risen up to his feet, he swings her up again over his head like she was littel more than a rag doll, and rapidly swings her back down and up again. Into the ground, against one of the cars nearby, over and over in a violent surge of overwhelming force.
And when he finally releases her, it's in the middle of an upswing that sends her up into the air. And even then, he is not fully finished. His arm draws far back while he watches her arc -- and then steps forward in a furious stomp that carries his arm to swinging in a clothesline into her back before she hits the ground, sending her flying across the parking lot from the force of the impact.
"Hhaaaahhh...! Haaahhh.... Hahahaha!"
His breathing unsteady now, his large body wobbling for a moment in the wake of that swing, perspiration glistening across his bare upper body. And he grins with the most maddened of all joy.
"I am... So glad I met you...!"
A bellowing yowl. Shina's form ripples and bursts forth. Her body tenses, muscle rippling as a fine pelt of rosettes cascades over her. Her jaws jut, facial structure cracking outward to the gnashing teeth of a leopard. Boots burst open, claws gripping the pavement as she takes a base. She leaps up. She opens wide.
There are reasons big cats don't hunt hippo.
Tarmo's bulk smashes through with crippling force. He cracks the ground and dashes the manufactured pseudo Darkstalker to the earth.
Her yowl is inhuman, and she staggers as she rolls back, tumbling and smashing hard off a nearby car. A thudding sound and a screaming alarm splits the garage. Lights flash. The bestial woman lashes her head one way to the other. Disoriented and lost, ears flatten and teeth bare at phantoms in the carpark.
Another nearby car turns into a leaning post for the massive finn in the meantime. The opportunity is taken while the now-beastial woman is left staggered, to steady his breathing. Even with his coat missing, the pure rush of everything has left him sweating, worked up by fatigue and pain both.
He pushes away from the car with enough force to jostle the vehicle on it's own suspension, lunging into a stubborn charge at the feline woman.
"You wouldn't give me a break either!"
His fist is wound back and down, with his leaned posture almost low enough to scrape the ground. Coming in for a positively furious uppercut -- with enough force weighed behind it, with his own mass, to aim to launch her up off the ground and into the air -- only to reach right after her, if she's brought airborne, to grab on and pull her right back down into the ground all over again in a sharp slam, assisted further with his free hand brought to pressing againt her ribcage.
COMBATSYS: Tarmo successfully hits Shina with Ilmahyokkays EX.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /// ]
Tarmo 0/-------/---====|=======\====---\1 Shina
Tarmo's fist connects with gnashing jaws. A heavy blow that carries the young woman into the air. He takes a firm grip of her in flight and wham! Down she goes to the ground. He rests atop her, her form writhing, tail lashing, claws digging into the concrete. She snaps up at him, spitting like, well, an angry cat. She thrusts up against Tarmo, trying to roll and buck the big man off of her. Even shifted, Tarmo's a giant of a person that still overtakes Shina in size by a good measure.
But she is on her reserves, and in the throes of a desperate situation. She throws herself up at the man. She goes into a deathspiral. A twisting roil of claws and crackling violet lightning. Raging with claw and fang to rip herself from the ground, wrench herself from the man, and to wreck him before the final ebbs of her strength leave her and she falls to the ground, taken down and tamed.
COMBATSYS: Shina can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
COMBATSYS: Tarmo blocks Shina's Tornado Blast.
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
She launches up with the kind of force he didn't expect even from her. Not while pinned down in between his massive form and the ground below. Such force that even his weight is pivoted up along with her!
The Finn's eyes widen out from the shock of the sudden momentum and realignment of both of them -- and it's only just barely in time that he manags to shove his hands back in to clamping to her biceps. Even then, she likely gets one revolution in -- enough to draw blood with claws that swipe over pectoral muscles first, and then the man's own biceps in that instant his arms come curling in for that grab. While that might halt her rapid spiral of death, it doesn't stop the crackling lightning from burning the hairs off his arms -- or the momentum of the force that sent him flying up, first, and now backwards. On the way to pivoting the rest of the way, though, he does manage to guide himself to turning so that the both of them land on their sides on the ground with a hefty *THUMP*.
Witth the Finn burnt, battered and clawed, it's tempting ot just let go there. But he can'tlet himself, not yet. Upon impact with the ground, he quickly rolls over onto one knee, propping himself up over Shina just long enough to raise his fist up--
But seeing her slump there, without much fight left in her anymore, he does relent. He merely glares down at her for a few seconds-- and then turns himself to slumping to the side, groaning out from exhaustion and pain both in time with his backside hitting the floor.
"That... hhaaahhh..." He rumbles out amidst a heavy, exhausted breath, one hand coming up to wipe sweat forced out by the exhausting exchange away from his brow. "...Was something else..."
COMBATSYS: Tarmo takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
COMBATSYS: Tarmo has ended the fight here.
Bone snaps and crack, muscle shifts. Shina returns to her human state; outfit worn and stretched a fair bit, but they are made of tougher stuff. On hands and knees, she returns to her normal state and begins to laugh. Ending with a sigh, she falls back onto her knees and runs her hand through her hair. She sags backward and lolls her head to look up at the carpark roof.
"Fucking sloppy using my own trick," she laments. "Opened myself up too much. M'not used to it like I should be."
She shakes her head and lurches forward, still not quite going to hop to her feet. "Don't compliment a joke. I got cocky. You got better."
Tarmo isn't *significantly* better off, all things considered-- but in the end, he manages to push himself up to his feet first.
"You're really callin' yourself a joke because of that? Get the hell out of here," the Finn growls with laughter rumbling behind the words, while he stomps over towards her. And when she looks up again, she'll be greeted by the man's massive paw held down towards her in offer -- and his wide, toothy smile.
"You were still great," he insists. "THanks for letting me see that."
Shina kip ups to her feet. She crouches down to check the split seams of her boots. "Every time," she comments, flopping at the toe. "And do not give me that. I have beaten you before, I have not been pushing myself to the extent of my capabilities. It's left me weak in the very way I should be strong."
She tenses her fist at her side. "If you were a darkstalker, a threat, then I may well be dead. Simple as that."
She turns about to look at Tarmo. "But aside, congratulations. You are stronger than I gave you credit for. And I owe you a drink."
"You're not about to go all defeatist on me, are ya?" Tarmo rumbles with a twitch of his brows leading towards a momentary frown before he steps up to Shina--
And claps his hand against her back. It's purposefully kept fairly light on account of the exercise they already went through, but it's still enough to let her feel it. Not quite enough to create a sound that can be heard easily over the car alarm ringing through the underground parking space now though.
"We'll just keep goin' at it another time. And then again another. And we'll both get stronger, huh? But, uh..."
A quick look back over his shoulder to gauge the damage they left behind. "...WE should... probably get the hell out of here real quicklike."
Log created on 12:44:05 07/26/2021 by Shina, and last modified on 12:56:37 08/05/2021.