Description: A blind girl debut with the fire of hell vs a blind girl strippers with the wind. Who's going to be the winner and why are there colleral damages? Someone has to get fired for this.
It's going on nigh close to a week now and Junko still hasn't really adapted to being in a big city. While her village back in the mountains is one of the larger of the hidden ancient settlements, its population numbering somewhere in the low thousands due to all the branch families and their various relatives requiring accomodations, it was never hard to get away from the noise of human habitation and find a quiet place to sit and relax. Here, however, it is the exact opposite. No matter how far she seems to walk or where she seems to go there's always dozens of people around. Even the handful of nature parks scattered around the metropolis have failed to provide her with the solace she yearns for, unable to go more than five minutes without some jogger thudding by or the sound of barking dogs and laughing children echoing through the trees.
Needless to say, the venue of a world-wide publicized fighting event proves to be no better for offering the young miko a moment of peace. Already a popular tourist and dining attraction, today the Skywalk is all but packed to the bursting point. Though a handful of hired muscle organized by the NFG themselves had managed to clear a relatively open path through the crowd the sheer noise and heat of the massed bodies is almost overwhelming to her senses.
For the past several minutes, Junko has been doing her best to reign in the anxiety and irritation of her situation. Being unbalanced before the fight even begins is a quick road to disaster - if not for herself, then for the poor soul fated to go against her. The flames at her command are fickle at best. Even when she is calm and in control of herself the entity to whom they truly belong is ever eager to inflict suffering without cause. But calm is something she rarely feels these days and with her rising ire so too do the flames burn ever hotter, ever more chaotic.
This is meant to be a glorified sparring match, a matter of entertainment for the masses. Roasting someone alive might count as fun for her inner demon but the miko has more than enough blood on her hands. She doesn't need another charred corpse haunting her dreams every night.
As such, Junko is tried to find somewhere to sit as far away from the press of the crowds as she can. The venue has provided her with a small if comfortable folding chair to await her call to action on the sidelines but it quickly proved too close to the milling spectators and the various camera crews setting up their equipment to broadcast the fight.
Without bothering to ask for permission, the young woman rises from her seat and stalks pointedly to the center of the large roped off area designated for the fight. Without so much as a word of explanation, she sinks down onto her knees and rests her hands in her lap, reclining in the traditional Japanese fashion with her eyes closed.
Better, if only slightly. From here she can't feel the intensity of the heat radiating off the countless spectators nearly as strongly and the din of background conversation isn't quite so crushing that her own thoughts are drowned out in the tidal wave. Taking a long deep breath, she tries to settle her mind, but it's a doomed endeavor and she knows it. The monster instead has been roused by the commotion and she can feel its eagerness for mayhem stirring inside.
She was ready to listen to previous matches her opponent would have had before. Yet she is against one of the new recruits. So she couldn't prepare that way. She can't deny ,however, the excitement of being the first opponent for someone new in NFG. It fits with the Djamila 2.0 she's been throwing around.
Though, she knew it wouldn't be an easy fight. She was going to give it her all, and was sure her opponent would do so as well. DJamila went throught the rumble, so whatever happens here, it won't be as bad. One on one, it's the best.
She is now at the venue, waiting for her music to hit. She has her security with her. It was needed, especially with her father living in this particular city. Who knows if he would try something again. There was no chance to take. She's in peace with that though. The only thing that matters right now is the fight.
After a few moment, the announcer talks. "Now, for the moment you've all been waiting for. Djamila vs Junko, is about to start. First she needs no introduction. It's the blind stripper Djamila!" As soon as he says her name, Cherry Pie comes on the speakers, and she comes into view. She is pumped for the match, and it shows. She makes her way to the fighting area, waving to the people with her free hand, the other holding to her staff. Once in the ring, she blows some kisses, then goes in her corner so Junko can have her own time, whatever that may be.
What little peace she had been able to eke out by moving away from the crowds is thoroughly shattered only a short time later as Junko's opponent makes her arrival. Loud obnoxious foreign music blasts out from mounted speakers hammering her fragile composure with a wave of chaotic noise. It's a struggle for the girl not to visibly mirror the snarl of disdain that she feels in her soul. She manages, if only just, merely scowling like she'd bitten down on a fresh lemon instead.
Exhaling slowly, the miko pushes back to her feet and stalks towards her own side of the arena. Before the match began she had been given instructions on how things would go down since this was her first public match. It all seemed a bit gaudy and pointless to her but her uncle had insisted that she follow whatever rules were laid out by the tournament organizers, no matter how foolish they might sound.
Once she has retreated to the safety of her own corner, the loudspeaker erupts with another cacophony of noise as the announcer introduces her to the masses for the first time.
"Aaaand, facing off against this NFG veteran, we have one of our many new contestants! Hailing all the way from the Land of the Rising Sun, this young lady has traveled from afar to set the fighting circuit ablaze! Don't let her looks fool you, folks! She might be cute but underestimate this contender and you're liable to get burned! Please give it up for, Junkoooo!"
The miko's glower focuses intently on the ground for several seconds as the crowd erupts with cheers for both of the fighters, her teeth grinding slowly as the song chosen to represent her starts to play - some horrific bastardization of classical Japanese instruments intertwined with the sort of warbling electronic chaos. Of all the things she has found the most distasteful since leaving her village this has to be close to the top.
Fortunately, the audial assault lasts only a few short moments. With introductions out of the way and the crowd worked up, the time for the fight is now at hand. The announcer orders both of the contenders to the center of the ring and Junko once more stalks sullenly towards the epicenter of what is about to be a small cataclysm. Tongues of flame lick at her heels as she goes, her footsteps leaving slender black outlines on the concrete behind her.
Once her opponent chooses to come out and join her, Junko offers a slight bow, bending at the waist just far enough to incline her head to the other girl in a show of respect. Angry or not, she was raised to have manners and if she can bring even a tiny sliver of respectableness to this clown show then all the better.
With that out of the way, Junko shifts into a fighting stance. Martial arts aficionados would likely recognize her style quickly. The pose is aggressive and low, her legs spread wide for balance and power while the fingers of her hand are curled in vaguely claw-like fashion. Southern Dragon, a kung-fu art renowned for its power and ferocity. But, despite the threatening posture, the teen does not launch herself into the fray immediately, seemingly content to let her opponent take the first action in this brawl.
COMBATSYS: Junko has started a fight here.
COMBATSYS: Djamila has joined the fight here.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Djamila 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Junko
She listens, she listens to the announcer talking about her opponent. She listens to the music of her entrance. It is some Modern japanese or something. It's interesting, yet she can hear some other sounds. It doesn't feel like Junko is the one who chose that music. It sucks when people take all the decisions away. But what she can do...
Djamila comes in the center when requested. The black blindfolds over her eyes contrasts with the orange sport bra and the orange short shorts she is wearing. Her hair on the right side of her head has started to grow back. Oh time passes. When her opponent gives a bow, she returns it. She has nothings against her. "Give it your best." She also says. Something she does every match as she doesn't want someone holding back because of her blindness. That would be bad.
Now, just like that, she focuses, strength she usually keeps for later, she lets forth now. She feels it's better in this fight to do so. She follows her instinct.. She moves arounds a bit, then slams one end of her staff against the concrete. If Junko can feel Chi in general, she might feel the chi holding the staff in place, vertically. Djamila then jumps high up on the staff and extends both of her legs. She lets them spins in helicopter kicks all the way down, landing in a split.
Whether she manages to hit or not, she gets back up, but currently her staff stays attached to the ground.
COMBATSYS: Junko blocks Djamila's Chopper Spin EX.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////////// ]
Djamila 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Junko
Junko's opponent may or may not be aware, depending on how much she's been paying attention to the promotional material, but the young miko herself is likewise visually impaired. At least, technically. As far as any doctor would be concerned, her eyes are completely non-functional, the optic nerves burned to complete uselessness. Of course, in a world of spiritual powers and living myths, the mundane is not always the end of the story.
The miko can sense her opponent, after a fashion, the older teen's body heat putting off traces of recognizable energy for the fire-attuned priestess to keep track of. There are limits to this 'heat vision' of hers, however, offering little more than a general idea of where someone is without providing much clarity on the details. She can't see the exact shape of Djamila's form nor notice the expression on her face; even the specific position of her limbs is difficult to discern.
As such, when the stripper decides to open the fight with a very thematically appropriate use of her talents, all Junko can really see is a blur of red-orange heat that comes swirling down at her from the top of the pole. The smart thing to do would be to retreat - with her attack anchored to that staff it's unlikely that her opponent would be able to follow. But that sort of patient game is better suited for people whose own powers aren't as much a threat to themselves as their foe. No, this is not a game of attrition for Junko but a contest to see who can withstand the heat of her flames longer.
Gritting her teeth against the impact of those swirling legs, the miko takes an aggressive step forward. The first of the blows is avoided by her low ducking lunge while the second she stops cold, throwing her shoulder and forearm into the path of the whirling kick. Djamila is never allowed to fully complete the attack, her slide down the pole arrested mid-motion as Junko catches her on the upraised arm.
A brilliant flare of scarlet power fills the center of the Skywalk as blazing red fire engulfs the girl's unoccupied hand. Tilting her head up to glower at the blindfolded warrior, the miko lets out an unlady-like snort of disdain.
"My best? No... I'm going to do my worst!"
Twisting in place, Junko pivots her legs and twists in a sharp motion. The power of the turn is transferred into her torso which in turn unleashes it in a violent and sharp upwards thrust of that flaming fist. The uppercut is aimed squarely at the stripper's jaw, the two fighter's in close enough proximity that Junko can mostly make out the details of where that is.
It isn't the punch that proves to be the real danger, however, but the flaming torrent of scarlet fire that erupts around both combatants in a vertical pillar that shoots up to the heavens. The fire spares neither of the young women, eager burning and charring away at Junko's flesh as happily as it will Djamila - unless she finds some way to escape the hellish torrent!
COMBATSYS: Djamila dodges Junko's Hou-ou Shoten Ha.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Djamila 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Junko
Djamila has heard rumor about it, but she didn't dare asks. They didn't know one another. It doesn't change the fight anyway. If Junko is here, she can fight. That's all Djamila has to know. She takes her seriously.
The way Djamila has been acting during her matches and out of them, she must have a way to see as well. Either that or her other senses are sharp beyond belief. Either way, if she can see in some way, she hasn't said anything official about it.
Her attack nicely dodged, then blocked by her opponent. She never gets to finished her spin. It's ok. She's fine on her staff. At least she's fine until Junko starts her own attack. At first, Djamila gets on top of her staff. But when she feels the heat coming. She takes a bet. She jumps from her staff, and a gush of wind chi pushes her further away, before she gets too badly burn by the fire. If anyone would ask, she would say again it was her instinct that allowed her to be fast enough and some luck. The staff isn't so lucky. It took some damage, but thankfully it's still in working condition, though quite blackened. There must be more than just wood in there.
She decides to let it cool. She simply comes back, jumps at the staff, and rebounds off of it to do a jumping kick toward Junko. It also allows her to feel just how hot her staff is without grabbing for it. She's hoping to land on her feet, but who knows. All Djamila knows at this point, is her opponent is a bit similar to Hawksley.
COMBATSYS: Junko endures Djamila's Light Kick.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Djamila 0/-------/-----<<|====---\-------\0 Junko
A noise of pure frustration escapes from Junko's lips as the agile dancer flips to safety from her outpouring of flaming retribution. The irritation of an elusive opponent is no doubt an all too familiar sensation for just about any warrior, be they fledgling or master, but the primal aggravation of being denied the chance to singe that pale flesh stirs from something much darker within.
Junko sucks in a sharp breath as the flames die down, focusing on reigning in that wicked impulse. It's a constant struggle, the battle she must wage to keep the corruption from seeping entirely through her soul, but even more so when her emotions are roused. Anger, sadness, shame - hell even the occasional glimmer of happiness can set her off if she relaxes her guard.
Turning her attention back to the fight, Junko returns her to neutral stance just in time to catch her opponent making a quick rebound. The sheer speed of the vaulting kick proves far too swift for her to react in time to make a proper defense. Instead, the teen grits her teeth and once again leans into the strike.
This time the flying kick catches its target square in the chest. Pain lances through Junko but that's something she has had more than enough time to learn how to ignore. With a snarl, the miko reacts, snapping one of her hands down tightly around the stripper's leg to try and trap it in place against her body. She takes a step forward and pivots again, this time slashing her free hand, once more wreathed in scarlet flame, in a claw-like rake across Djamila's shoulder. The maneuver would see her opponent hurled to the ground at her feet, slammed flat on her back and set ablaze with Junko looming overhead ready to take advantage of the compromising position should her foe fail to slip free of her machinations again.
COMBATSYS: Junko successfully hits Djamila with Enryuzan.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Djamila 0/-------/-<<<<<<|======-\-------\0 Junko
Djamila's jump kick hits. That's about the only thing going right at this moment. But she's unable to leave and land correctly as Junko catches her leg. That was a quick catch.
Then it goes from bad to worse, as Junko, with her hand ablazes, claws her shoulder and sets it on fire for a moment, as she is slammed hard to the ground. Strangely, it's not the worse pain she had in this tournament, but it still hurts like a bitch, and a scream shows everyone hwo much. The fire has time to do damage before more wind chi comes to take care of her shoulder, which is easily seen. Once the fire is gone, it shows the damage the fire did. Another gush of wind comes and gets the staff. It is detached and hurls toward Junko as a rather strong projectile. With Djamila hurting and trapped on the floor, it's about the only think she can do to try to surprise her opponent.
COMBATSYS: Djamila successfully hits Junko with Thrown Object.
* Attack Of Opportunity! *
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Djamila 0/-------/--<<<<<|=======\==-----\1 Junko
One of the primary downsides of only being able to see heat is that Junko's ability to perceive most of the world is extremely limited. Humans and other living things put off enough natural warmth that picking up on them is relatively easy. Even at a distance she can sense vague blobs of temperature even if she can't make out any details.
But as a fighter facing off against someone wielding a weapon she finds herself at a distinct disadvantage. The staff might as well be invisible to her, or close enough for the difference to be academic in the midst of a quick-paced battle. In this case, however, Junko gets a slight warning of the impending danger thanks to her previous assault. The flames may not have scored Djamila but they left her staff with enough residual heat that when the winds suddenly hurl the slender rod in her direction she isn't caught completely unprepared.
But, prepared or not, the impact of the spiritually guided missile is enough to send the miko reeling. Letting out a cry of frustration and surprise as she stumbles backwards, Junko's control falters for a moment. Bright red fire swirls behind her unnaturally crimson eyes, the girl's lips peeling back in a feral snarl - a warning that the actually blind dancer will unfortunately not be able to pick up on.
Junko lands hard on her back but turns the landing into something of a controlled roll, flipping ass over teakettle to land in a three-point crouch several feet away. More carmine fire explodes to life in her hand almost instantly, flickering wildly in the wake of Djamila's windy technique. The miko's eyes narrow dangerously, her hand clenching into a claw around the raging chi and the flames suddenly shrink down into the grasp of her palm, condensing into a small but potent orb of light.
Without even rising to her feet, the girl thrusts her hand forward aggressively and lets out a howl of anger. The orb in her hand explodes, blossoming into a solid beam of glowing red light that lances from one side of the arena all the way to the other. As wide and tall as Junko herself, the blast is a wave of pure burning destruction. Waves of heat ripple off the attack, searing the concrete solid black where it passes and distorting the battlefield like a shimmering mirage for the duration of its hellish life.
COMBATSYS: Djamila fails to reflect Shakkahou from Junko with Power Strike.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////// ]
Djamila 0/-------/-======|=======\====---\1 Junko
Djamila gets a bit of a breather by actually hitting with her staff. She will take any breathing room she can. It at least pushed Junko away.
The problem is Junko is quick to come back to life, and there's something really nasty coming. She can feel as such. Despite the weirdness or perhaps even the stupidity of it, she tries to send it back toward her with her staff that was left nearby and some wind. It had about as much effect as breathing on a concrete wall and it hits her hard, burning her to hell.
Now that's even more like Hawksley. She can only hope the wind will help her further, because with that stupid failed counter attack and the beam hitting her, she's unable to do anything beside laying on the ground and focusing herself away from the pain as best as she can.
Amist the outpouring of cheers and jeers coming in a constant stream from the onlookers, a sudden cry of panic goes up from the far side of the arena. Those unfortunate enough to have positioned themselves on Djamila's side of the arena quick discover that the size of said battleground was not properly planned out against these particular combatants.
Junko's colossal outpouring of power rips through the breezy attempt to divert it without even slowing down, a brilliant spear of red hellfire empowered by the unnatural fury within the young miko. Djamila is left to suffer that wrath all but unprotected, the flames seeming almost like a living thing eager to burn her away to ash.
Worse, however, is the fact that her failure to protect herself has left the spectators directly in the path of the blazing assault. If Junko either notices or cares about the collateral damage she inflicts on the innocent bystanders it doesn't show. The infernal heat blazes away as bright and hot as ever until the last of its energy is finally spent.
As the light of her power dies away, Junko all but slumps to the ground with sudden fatigue. Sweat pours down her face as she gasps for air, her chest heaving with deep ragged breaths. Unleashing that sort of firestorm seems to have cost her almost as much as it did her opponent. The constant wielding of those cursed flames is starting to take its toll on her fragile constitution. The end of this fight is fast approaching, one way or another.
The miko lunges to her feet with a quick burst of motion. Her lungs burn from the effort, her body crying out for relief from the soul-burning power that surges through them once more. She ignores the pitiful mewling of her muscles and hurls herself at the fallen dancer hoping to fall upon her before she regains her senses and slips away again.
Should she manage to catch her foe still prone or perhaps tackle her back to the floor once again, Junko straddles her waist starts to wail away with reckless abandon, raining a torrent of rapid flaming punches down upon the stripper's face and chest in an effort to overwhelm her.
COMBATSYS: Djamila dodges Junko's Mugen Ranbu.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Djamila 0/-------/-======|=======\=====--\1 Junko
She can hear the screams behind her. Not only did she fail to protect herself, but she fails the spectators. Then again, their security should be on her. Whoever is the dumb person who was responsible for the fighting venue security. They should be fired. But that's not what she needs to think about anyway. It's the fact Junko is a real force to be reckon with. She can either let herself be stunt by the pain she feels or push herself further. 'Remember that fight. They thought you were out, but you came back, and you knocked him out too. Just not long enough. If you're not dead, you can heal. ' She thinks to herself.
Junko comes at her again, but just before she falls on her, she's suddenly to the side, with a curse at the pain. BUt better that than whatever Junko had in mind for her.
She would like to press this, and attack again, but she needs to think of her body. She force herself up, her body complaining the whole way. She sets her staff, which mysteriously is still in one piece and starts undulating her hips. Winds flows around her, and she chants 'om.' The wind sooths her. Enough so she can continue better. "Ok Junko, bring it. You're impressive." She keeps undulating her hips and focus on what is going on around her.
COMBATSYS: Djamila makes the om sound and wind chi flies around her for a short moment.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Djamila 1/-------/=======|=======\=====--\1 Junko
So committed was she to the idea of pouncing on her opponent and beating her senseless is Junko that when the dancer manages to roll away at the last second the miko practically throws herself onto the pavement. It's a painful and humiliating experience, her hands already charred black from the effort of wielding her tainted power now skinned and cracked from abrasions.
But, embarrassed or no, Junko is nothing if not tenacious - though vindictive might be a better term for her current state of mind. Denied twice now the pleasure of hearing the older girl cry out in pain as her flesh chars and sizzles beneath the destructive power at her command, it's becoming all but impossible to shut out the influence of the her darker half.
Hitting the ground in a tight roll, Junko once more shows herself to be more than a mere berserker as she deftly turns the failed attack into a kip up to her feet. Seeing her opponent take the time to try and recenter herself brings a small twinge of twisted amusement the girl's face. She answers Djamila's positive comment with a scornful reply of her own, scowling at the dancer as if she might feel the intensity of her gaze if not see it.
"And you're annoying. You want to see what I can really do, huh?"
Such a statement might cause her opponent to grow wary, preparing herself for another violent lunge from the fiery miko. Instead, Junko stands up straight, her feet spreading slowly into a wide stance as if bracing herself against something. Both of the girl's charred hands clench into tight balls at her side, pain shooting through her limbs as fire gathers around them again. But this time the fire does not remain contained to the pale girl's limbs. It spreads, well, like fire - engulfing the entirety of the medium's body until she is burning like a witch at the pyre.
"Then allow me to make you regret that!"
The temperature of the battlefield suddenly shoots up as a wave of raw invisible heat blasts out from the blazing miko once more distorting the air as if the entire bridge were suddenly being baked like a pie in the oven. That first shockwave proves to be but the prelude to the actual attack, however, as the scarlet flames grow ever hotter and more intense until finally erupting in wild conflagration. Hellfire spreads out from Junko in all directions, washing over the bridge like a wave of liquid crimson as she unleashes a guttural scream of pain and fury as her soul-fire tries to consume everything it touches and leave nothing but ruin.
COMBATSYS: Djamila blocks Junko's Suzaku no Gekido.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Djamila 1/-----==/=======|=====--\-------\0 Junko
Sometimes things work out. Djamila learns. Her opponent is a force, there is no doubt about it, but there's always a way, if you stay centered. That's probably what her sponsor tried to teach her at one point. Well it's working now.
"Yes I want to see what you can do. Show me, let me learn." She stops dancing, and she gets ready. There is nothing else to do. There are not a lot of choices. You either brace yourself, you aren't there, or you perish. The third option was not really one.
She can feel the heat from her opponent it's already starting. "I used to have a lot of regrets. You're not one of them." She simply says, and she braces herself even more. The temperature keeps raising. Djamila stands her ground, and she concentrates. The fire surrounds her as it goes in every directions. It passes. One would expect her to be a pile of ashes perhaps, but she's there, worse for wear, the fight certainly taking it's toll on her, but she's standing in one piece. Skin red all over, but chi protected her, didnt let her perish in this fight, despite the enormous strength of her opponent fury. "What do you know, when you keep getting burnt, at one point it doesn't hurt as much." She manages a half a smirk, smile kind of deal. "Let see if my body can go on a bit further."
She forces her legs to push her in the air, in a jump, to land in front of Junko. She has no idea if the spectators have been hit too, and she couldn't think about that now. At one point, it would be up to her opponent's sponsors to deal with the lack of control. Right now, to finish this, maybe.
She lands in front of Junko, and she sweep at her feet. If she has her way and Junko falls to the ground, she then slams her staff on her, using some wind chi to push it in.
HEr opponent is giving her a run for her money, she does her best to give back the favor.
COMBATSYS: Junko interrupts Jade Split EX from Djamila with Hou-ou Shoten Ha.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
[ \\\\\\\\\\ <
COMBATSYS: Junko can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\ <
Scarlet power floods out from Junko like a tidal wave, a rolling torrent of heat, flame, and hate. As before the girl shows no signs of having put any thought into who or what might be destroyed by her wrathful outburst. The fires burn anything and everything they touch, spreading out with the speed of a roaring explosion.
Ribbons of vile inky corruption ripple through deluge of hellfire like living serpents, seemingly drawn to the living flesh caught in the blast. The tainted power courses around the miko's body in bolts of obsidian lightning, empowering her while simultaneously leaving dozens of smoldering black stains upon her pale flesh and clothing. Those closest to the epicenter of the unleashed flames get the worst of it - Junko included. The girl herself is starting to look like an overcooked hotdog that was left on the grill too long, her arms blackened from fingertips to elbows and her pale face half covered in ragged burn marks.
A handful of the camera operators still foolish enough to remain close to the action after her initial display of disregard for collateral damage get caught in the destruction. The initial heat wave is enough to send them sprawling to the ground, a stroke of luck that spares the men from the worst of the fire as it washes over them leaving them merely scorched and in pain. The camera they were operating fares far worse. The lens cracks and shatters under the intense heat and its thin metal exterior bends and warps as the fires briefly engulf it leaving the device utterly ruined.
The spectators are spared the worst of the flames this time by virtue of sheer distance. While Junko's hellish inferno might be deadly up close, it cannot defy the rule of thermodynamics leaving those caught in the splash zone to suffer only a few mild burns as the fire gutters out at the edge of its reach.
Being the closest to Junko and the intended target of the attack, Djamila catches the worst of the cataclysm. But it would seem that being repeatedly subjected to trial by fire has tempered her resolve rather than burned it away. She faces the inferno without fear, calmly diverting the worst of its furious onslaught away with her own power over the wind.
That damned wind again! The arrogant xian who would be her teacher had used the same element to blunt her attacks, parting her flames as easily as if they were fluttering curtains. At least this time her opponent's mastery over the gale is less focused. She doesn't crumble to ashes but Junko can sense the lingering heat of the burns left on her skin. The darkness inside of her delights in the torment it inflicts but her foe's continued resistance vexes it.
'When you keep getting burnt, at one point it doesn't hurt as much.'
A final trite utterance from her optimistic opponent. Yes, under normal circumstances one might indeed grow immune to the pain that flames bring with them should they be subjected to them often enough. There are stories all throughout human history of prophets and holy men undergoing trials of that nature, striding boldly through roaring bonfires and walking barefoot across hot coals with nary a cry of pain.
But those people never had to endure what she does on a daily basis. The fires burn her flesh, leaving it tender and cracked, raw exposed nerves screaming in unimaginable agony every time she calls upon those tainted flames. But rather than grow numb and calloused, her flesh always heals after every use, the burned blackened skin renewed to its hale and healthy luster. Under normal circumstances, she might consider such regenerative powers an incredible boon but the miko understands the twisted mockery behind such longevity.
The fires inside her burn and consume and with every painful regeneration she is left alive and whole to endure that pain anew; her blessing and her curse.
Having endured some of the worst that the miko might throw at her, the dancer boldly hurls herself into the crucible once more, confident that she can withstand whatever the young medium might throw at her. But, as is often the case, is it when driven into a corner and left with no other choices that a wild animal becomes the most dangerous. In many ways, Junko is little more than a beast, driven more by primal instinct now than the careful discipline that was instilled into her during her youth. And like a cornered beast, when her infuriating foe launches herself close to deliver would should be the finishing blow the miko simply reacts on raw aggressive instinct.
Djamila lands only to find her opponent already in the midst of rushing forward to meet her, eyes ablaze with fury. The miko's slender fist drives upwards with a snarl, slamming heavily into the bottom of her jaw. Another maelstrom of wild chaotic flames erupts around the two combatants, red and black power ripping and tearing at the both of them with reckless abandon.
More! MORE! She must burn everything until there is naught left but cinders in that infuriating breeze!
And then, without warning, the fires die away, guttering out like a candle in the wind. Junko staggers backwards, a hand going to the side of her head as disorienting nausea washes over her. Her body feels heavy, leaden, as if her arms and legs have been hollowed out and filled with sand. In a brief moment of clarity she realizes that her body has hit its limits. The unnatural rage had pushed her to the edge and now she is falling, both literally and figuratively.
Silently, Junko falls to her knees, the baleful light of her crimson eyes fading away as she slumps over to the ground and is embraced by the blissful void of unconsciousness.
Djamila's life has not been easy. Granted, her own power doesn't consume her, but she survived things that no child, no teen and no 18 years old should have to deal with. But we don't choose the basic life we have, just what we do with it.
Djamila can almost feel pity for the poor girl, but she doesn't voice it. She doesn't think it would go too well with her opponent if she said anything along those lines. So instead she resists as best as she can with the win. She doesn't have the most powerful wind, but she has a certain mastery with it, which allows her to do pretty much anything with it. A connection that started when that missile strike killed her mother and took her eyes, and a connection that kept growing since then.
So yes, she jumped to attack. She didn't expect Junko to meet her head on, but she can adapt. Or rather, she does her best to support it. She received a punch in the jaw, and she feels it crack and burn. More hits come, and more flames. It is an onslaught of a cornered beast indeed. But Djamila takes it out. She thinks of that missile. She thinks of that bullet that made her leave home. She thinks of that beating from her father. She thinks of that other father who thinks her ass is for sale, and she takes it all. The worse for wear, but protected and when the flame dies down, and junko falls to her knees, somewhat, Djamila is still standing, and she laughs. She's not laughing at Junko. She's laughing at the pain. She might never know what Junko goes through each time, but she knows hers. As Ichika would say, she knows her truth. "Look at that Dad, I am still standing! And you." She doesn't say name, but that person certainly knows who they are. "You can kiss my ass." And she smacks it. Before she falls on one knee. She forces herself to stand back up, her staff anchored to the ground once again helping her do so.
The announcer speaks up. "Well folks, it looks like we have a winner. It was a close one. It was destructive fight with quite the collateral damages at times, but Djamila is left standing! Djamila is today's winner. A big hand of applauses for both our combattants."
Collateral damage... She wonders how bad it is, but she's not foolish enough to believe she could have protected anyone else. Maybe one day.
She lifts one arm in the air, and then she falls back on one knee. She needs a long, nice session of her healing winds. Junko did a number on her. "Well done Junko. Give my salutation to Ichika and Chevy, if you will." She then takes a minute to do some partial healing on her legs. As things were, she wasn't sure they would take her out of there.
COMBATSYS: Djamila has ended the fight here.
Log created on 16:52:44 09/07/2023 by Djamila, and last modified on 03:25:40 09/09/2023.