Match of the Millennium

Description: "Now what could be nicer than a lovely romantic meal at an Italian restaurant? Imagine, if you will, low lighting, delicious food, fine wine and ambient music. You've got all dressed up for your date and then in walks...Buford! That would make me angry enough to fight too. Let's see how long Djamila can cope with the Canadian's own unique brand of charm before she's smacking him with her staff. I'm cheering her on in this match, and after her perfect performance in the prison, who would bet against her?" - Kitty Fantastica

[DJAMILA]
A black car drives and parks in front of Vito's Restaurant in Metro City. A very different setting from the scrap yard Djamila was not so long ago. With her blue top and her white skirt, she looks like she's ready for a date rather than a fight. Her white boots look like fighting boots, however. She also has a charm bracelet and a smartwatch.

She gets out of the car and makes it inside the restaurant. She plays the game. "I am here to meet Mister Buford. I am sure he has a reservation." The hostess nods her head and takes her to the area. No, it's not a table. It's rather an area with the table pushed aside to allow them to fight. Djamila wonders if that will be enough. Well, they are probably insured.

The fight like all the other NFG ones, is filmed. However, since it is inside a fine restaurant, it seems to be a crew of cameramen instead of drones that Djamila is used to. There is also a crowd who are here to eat as well as watch the fight.

Djamila goes into a corner while she waits for Buford to make his appearance. She knows he doesn't seem to be super popular with the ladies from what she heard, but it should still be a good fight. Let's give the guy a chance. Win the fight either way.

Some supporters of Djamila are already cheering her. There is a good feeling in the air with her first two fights of Metro City being a win. She waves at them and then goes quiet, setting her staff upright and swinging her hips lightly.

[BUFORD]
As it happens Buford does has a reservation.

The round Buford is currently dressed in a fine red red T-shirt, carefully wrapped over his form tightly. He is wearing a long white tie, bearing the image of a single anime girl in repose, laying on it all the way up and down the tie. His pants are actually pants, ironed by Mad Gear types, neat and trim khakis. His cowboy boots are still there, as well as his sword in the sheath still tied to his belt. He even had the beard on his neck carefully trim and styled, and the heavy scent of axe body spray hangs around him for such a fine dining experience. Out of respect for the other patrons, he was far away at -another- corner, opposite of Djamila His fedora is placed on the table at his side he is going to be having the Italian Breaded Chicken Cutlets with the Senape Al Miele, balanced with a Bubbling Chinotto Beverage. Two of them in fact, in fine wine glasses. As for the cutlets? Several baskets of it, of course. Naturally there was a place set up across from him, with a rose on it, and a small garden salad. He hadn't noticed the arrival of his opponent, naturally, as he was too busy with his food. But he =does= notices Djamila a little -too- late, peering up from his fourth basket of breaded cutlets. Slurping it down noisily, he scoots his chair back. Standing up with a lurch, he quickly grabs his fedora, and places it on his head. The Canadian scoops up the tablecloth off the table, hoarding all of the baskets and the small garden salad up. He holds the two glasses, sticking his fingers in the drinks as he clinks them together. And there, he swiftly strides over to the corner. He gives a tip of his hat.

"Ah, M'lady, I am pleased to meet you."

Buford places the tablecloth full of food on her table. He rearranges the places on the table, copying the setup of the other table he had before. "Do not feel embarrassed you didn't notice me! I am all too aware of your disabilities, and it would be unbecoming of a gentleman like myself to not serve a queen like yourself, no matter your handicap." He quickly adds as he gestures at the presentation of chicken baskets, he still rearranging them. "I got a broad selection for our appetizers, naturally with your figure and profession I showed great initiative on choosing the proper dish for you, and enough to whet your appetite!" He slides aside a basket, and reveals the small garden salad. He places it front of Djamila, along with the smudged glass of chinotto. "Of course, I ensured that the dishes are Halal, out of respect for your faith as an Iraqi! Certainly while you are a bedlah beauty, well, a wise and studied ronin of rationality like myself is aware of certain cultural nuances." Buford smugly groans at his pure intellectual empathy, wiping his hands on his pants. "Oh, and the chinotto is non-alcoholic. If it doesn't serve your tastes, well." He gives a burbling chortle, as he gives a sip of his own glass of the bitter drink. His mirth melts away into a sneer of disgust. "They are have assured me that they are a Coca-Cola venue, and have that wretched Mello-Yello if you so prefer." Buford places the glass back down, as he pulls out the chair across from Djamila. "Shall we begin with our appetizers? Or should we go to the main course!" He gives a pause, before interjecting with a finger in the air..

"That is, our fight, M'lady!"

[DJAMILA]
So apparently, he was already here. Now she has a feel for him, if nothing else. "Oh, M'lord. The pleasure is all mine." Let's keep the charade for now. This could be fun. "I did notice you, but having never had the pleasure of meeting you before, I didn't know what I was feeling is you." She almost could laugh, yet she did not. She does not hate Buford, not yet. She's going to form an opinion of her own. Why not everyone deserves a chance.

"So you did your research on me. For the fight or to impress me?" She inquires, as he talks about a lot of things that in different circumstances, would be perfect and showing someone caring about who she is. "Either way, thank you, this is nice attention." She ponders a moment.

"I think the food should wait until our fight. If there is a table still standing, I am sure we will both need nourishment after our fight. I think I could use some company then, how about you?"

"Give it your best. Or if you prefer to dine right now, give me victory, and we shall." She's teasing on the latter, not really expecting him to do that.

[BUFORD]
Buford immediately blushes bright red.

While his offense could hardly be stated as anything less than overwhelming, it seemed that he was not able to accept compliments as easily as he gave them. The moment she called him, M'Lord, Buford almost fainted. Literally, all the blood seemed to have filled his cheeks, as he gives a boyish titter. Squeaking lightly, the massive Samurai turns shyly away. "Well, I do happen to frequent some of commentary streams and certain communities focused on our fights. You certainly have quite a fanbase you know, with amazing storytellers and artists, yes, the a-a-artists especially supporting you. But if you are impressed by my, my studious, my studying smartness, oh my g- goodness."

Buford suddenly trips over the chair, breaking it into pieces.

Groping around for the table, he nearly tears the tablecloth off as he wrenches himself back up. "M-M'lady, I would gladly endure a thousand losses for but one taste of fine Italian Tendie with you." Buford could only imagine like that one scene with Lady and the Tramp, with him being the rugged Tramp of course, not Djamila, and delicately rolling a single nugget with his nose on top a pile of steaming hot cutlets. "But a woman of your magnet- magnetic, a ba-ba-ba-be of your va-va-va-voom, oh, it's quite hot in here." Buford grabs his glass, and drinks in with a single throaty gulp. Gasping out the harsh bitter taste, he shudders. And then, relaxes. "A woman of your profession only deserves the finest a Daimyo Of Dignity like myself can offer! We dine later, but now, we must fight!" Buford puffs his chest out, as he brings the hook of his elbow arm out for Djamila. "If you please, I would like to escort you to the place they have set aside for our fight, M'lady."

"It is the least I can do, for a young maiden so charming as yourself."

COMBATSYS: Djamila has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Djamila          0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Djamila has ended the fight here.


COMBATSYS: Djamila has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Djamila          0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Buford has wandered into the fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Djamila          0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0           Buford

[DJAMILA]
"Not many have talked with you with the same care you've been talking to them?" She ponders. "it's alright. I don't check the internet a lot, but it's good to have a following and you to be aware of it. Thank you." She grins until...

A chair is broken. Buford trips and breaks it,and then the tablecloth incident. She can't resist. She speaks...

"Clumsy samurai,"
"Shattering a chair with grace,"
"Tablecloth's ally."

"Blind girl's gentle smile,"
"A serene acceptance shines,"
"Embracing life's trials."

Technically, it's a double Haiku, or perhaps it's null and void, but here she tried. She continues normally at that time. "You're kind of sweet, but if we're going to start destroying the restaurant now." She makes her way closer. "If I make you lose your footing just by being nice." She slams her staff down upright, Chi keeping it that way. "Wait until I show you this trick" She jumps on her staff and inverts herself on it, hanging by her legs, then she reaches for his ankles. If she gets her way, she pulls and trips him again. If she can she lands gracefully on her feet, on the ground. "See, no need for chair abuse. We need chairs to have dinner after. I intend to hold my promise, but for now, we fight."

COMBATSYS: Buford blocks Djamila's Inside Leg Hang.

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////////  ]
Djamila          0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0           Buford

[BUFORD]
Clumsy Samurai.

When Djamila gives her haiku, Buford feels as tiny as a mouse. When the second comes, he practically was putty. And when she calls him kind of sweet, why, he was practically ready to say 'I Do' right there at the altar. It was practically proposing to him, in his mind. Bashfully, he turns his head away. "M-m-m'lady, please." No, it wasn't going to be a mere elbow offer. IT was something more. He instinctively brings his hand up now, spreading his fingers wide. All five fingers, exposed and glove-free, naked as he was as the day his mother bore him. Ready to interlock with her own, hand holding openly and shamelessly. But Djamila wasn't leading up for a one on one moment of hand holding.

She was on the -attack-

As she inverts herself, Buford feels the push to his ankles. Pulled along, he has only two places to go. DOwn to the ground, or into the table. But if he goes into the table... then his dinner with the fair maiden would be soiled. Unarmed as he was, there was only tool he had on hand for defense: the tendies. Buford audibly sobs as he catches himself from falling by going straight for the table. Gripping the cloth, he rips free the avalanche of breaded cutlets, sending them flying in the air. Gasping aloud, he manages to catch a golden brown delicious in his maw, instinctively chewing and swallowing it in the scant microseconds before he recovers.

The after-fight meal ruined, his wine of his kindness suddenly turns to vinegar of hatred.

"Why you jezebel! You spangles! You uncouth woman of low character!" Buford bellows out, face red once more. Though from outrage, not shame of course. Steadying himself, he reaches for his belt. "How dare you take advantage of my innocence and honor! Especially when I offered you a feast! I deserve to be treated better! Now Face The Rapping Ronin Of Rationality!" Buford makes beat box sounds with his blubbery greased lips, as he draws his Suchimusodo. Pressing a button on the hilt, a thick cloud of mist pours out from it, as the hilt and blade begins to vibrate. Bringing it to his lips, he exhales a cloud of what smells like a blend of exotic spices and incense, a smell of cinnamon and saffron fill the air with the yellow cloud. HE is concealed for a moment. Then, Buford erupts from the cloud, bringing his sword into a single, powerful sideways strike through it, cleaving through the fog as he attempts to cut through Djamila. The mist would thin, as he would rest his head against the wall of the restaurant, as he holds his blade in the air. He speaks aloud.

"Serpent In A Skirt
Will Betray A Good Boy's Heart
A Lie For Tendies"

COMBATSYS: Djamila fully avoids Buford's Bushido Of The Blade.

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Djamila          0/-------/------<|-------\-------\0           Buford

[DJAMILA]
Buford manages to block that, but he's not nice anymore. And the meal is ruined. Though she's still willing to have dinner, she gave her words after all.

"Oh, is that how we are going to play it now? We have to fight, so we are fighting. I promise to hit you so hard, that you will forget the whole fight. How is that? How can one be so low? Tsk."

She is peaceful on her feet. She's waiting for him to strike. She can feel a new smell in the air, a thick cloud of something exotic. Though, allegiantly, on a blind woman, it might not give that good of a result.

The point is proven when Buford erupts from the cloud with a powerful sideways strike. Djamila is no longer there. She's out of the way higher on her staff."

"Child's spirit turned sour."
"Man's body harbors darkness."
"Silenced by a kick.".

Then she settles on her staff and extends her legs. She spins on it, doing helicopter kicks, hitting Buford's body if she has her way. She does to the ground, finishing in a split. Then, if able, she gets back up gracefully. During this move, she can't help but show she has black panties underneath that white skirt.

COMBATSYS: Djamila successfully hits Buford with Chopper Spin EX.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-

[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////////         ]
Djamila          0/-------/----<<<|=====--\-------\0           Buford

[BUFORD]
Buford was not ready for this.

Even as he recovers from the slash, of course Buford expected a counter attack. BUt as he turns to face the oncoming Djamila, the weight of her haiku washing over him, the elegant words and brilliant poetry is nothing compared to the upskirt display before him. Buford cannot help but stare in rapt attention at the contours of the undergarments. The lacy highlights, the smooth yet shiny texture. Oh, he understood underwear like that. He had done tons of research on the matter, and written several important blog entries on their analysis. But in reality, Buford had never seen a pair of black panties like that on a real human being. With the exception of his mother of course. ANd certainly he had seen them on some of the mannequins at some of the undergarments shoppes at the West Edmonton Mall, at least until he was banned from them after some odor-related incidents. And there was that one time in high school when he was experimenting with cat girls, and well, they had a cat at home.

Needless to say, none of that prepared Buford for this.

Buford was actually locked in place when the kicks come. There is no defense, as he stands fast, jaw slack, as each blow comes again and again. The only defense that matters is his own fortification and focus, to stare directly into the heart and soul of her underwear. But as the blows to his head come, eventually, the pain comes. By the time she finishes, Buford himself realizes that once again, he had been had. What he had originally had believes was to be a queen, it seemed, was something much more sinister. The last blow knocks him down, sending him slamming against the wall. For the longest time, the Canadian had believes a woman could do no wrong. Why, Buford had once made a stated boldly about how a bottom can never be soiled.

But perhaps his time in Metro City has taught him otherwise.

Rising up from his fall, he rubs his swollen cheek, face hot and red. Puffing out his chest once more, he gives a deep, heavy inhale through his nostrils, flaring them wildly as he sucks the blood and snot back him. Exhaling hot and heavy through his mouth, he gives a hit of his vapor hilt. Puffing out, he finally speaks, leveling out his sword straight at Djamila.

"It Is Not What's On
A Panty That Soils It
Darkness Comes Within"

And Buford strikes.

Charging forward, he flails his blade wildly, unleashing a savage diagonal slash. There is no theater now, just barbaric hostility, driven by a heart that was as broken as several facial bones and possibly his nose. It was a cruel and crushing blow, fueled by an anger that was dominating his mind. And a picture, of soft cloth and almost satin-like texture. Mocking him. Tormenting him. The devilish bloomers of malicious intent. Why.

NOt even his favorite streamers would have acted so brazenly before Buford, no matter the size of his donations.

COMBATSYS: Djamila fully avoids Buford's Crushing Strike.

[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Djamila          0/-------/---<<<<|=====--\-------\0           Buford

[DJAMILA]
Never has she hit this move so thoroughly, so strongly. All this because of panties. However, at the time, she did not realize it. She doesn't care if he sees her panties. She has shown much more in her job. She just feels all of her kicks hit, until she hits the ground, until Buford is sent against the wall again. It feels good, yet she can feel his anger growing.

This time, when Buford is ready to strike again, charging forward for a diagonal strike, she's back on top of the staff, with her arms down holding onto it, and her legs high up in the air. It does nothing to keep her modesty, but it does keep her out of arms way again. She can be so quick, almost anticipating what Bufords will do before it happens. Of course, the wind helps her too. Perhaps also a bit of luck. She needs to think of Iris for her charm bracelet.

From her position on top of the staff, she says.
" In search of desires."
Man fixates on mere garments."
Love eludes his grasp."

After this, she lets herself fall, to the ground, her legs stopping her drop and her hand touching the floor. She then kicks with both legs toward Buford's head before flipping back on her feet. At least if everything still goes as planned. "My poor Buford."

COMBATSYS: Buford dodges Djamila's Cross Knee Release EX.

[   \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Djamila          0/-------/--<<<<<|=====--\-------\0           Buford

[BUFORD]
"Love Cannot Be Bought
With Tender Offerings Of Meat
It's Earned With Kindness!"

He retaliates with his own Haiku against Djamila's, the samurai's face hot and red. Ever inch of her skin, every nimble movement, each and every thing she did now made Buford feel anguish. His respect for women was falling apart before his very eyes. As she kicks towards the swordsman, Buford breaks free, moving swiftly to the side in spite of his size. Narrowly, he evades the kick to his already swollen face. He is moving fast, faster. Aggression coming fierce and furious. When she flips back to her feet, Buford lunges after her. Throwing his weight behind it, he tears twice in the air in an X slash, left to down, then right and up. All while bellowing out a second Haiku, his temper flaring madly.

"The Cheapest Woman
Pretends She Is Like A Mother,
While She Denies Milk!"

COMBATSYS: Buford successfully hits Djamila with Fierce Strike.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Djamila          1/------</<<<<<<<|=======\-------\0           Buford

[DJAMILA]
Not only does Buford dodge her this time, her feet hitting nothing, but he also does another haiku, which doesn't make much sense. Is it what distracts her when he does an X-slash on her?

That or something else, she doesn't move out of the way fast enough and her beautiful sky blue blouse gets cut, and blood taints the blouse, making it purple. She winces hard. "If that's how you want to play it. She wasn't happy, but no swear words yet."

She grabs her still upright staff, and she starts undulating her hips, while she also uses the meditation sound 'om'. Winds can be felt around her, and it heals her enough to at least stop her wound from bleeding. The pain is still there. "Come Buford. Show me what you can. do."

"In strength he wields a blade."
"Yet inner worth remains small."
"Beware, hearts take heed."

COMBATSYS: Djamila makes the om sound and wind chi flies around her for a short moment.

[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Djamila          1/-----<</<<<<<<<|=======\-------\0           Buford

[BUFORD]
Buford smirks, as his blade tastes blood.

Buford stands fast after his terrible slash, her blood staining through her clothing. There is no remorse from the Samurai. He is utterly justified in his actions, in his mind. She deserves this, for the way she teased him, tricked him. He was learning something as he went through this NFG. That the only woman worth his time seemed to be his own mother. And of course, the fine ladies of the Mad Gear gang. Where compared to someone like Braun, well.

It seemed that men were much more reliable companions than women were.

As she steadies herself, Buford brings his own hilt to his lips, steadying himself in his own way. Inhaling and exhaling the spicy mist, it burns his body and lungs, building deeper and deeper in a yellow cloud all around him. Puffing away, he finally pauses, surrounded by the cloud. He coughs, before he gives his own response in haiku form.

"A Ronin's Spirit
Finds It's Strength In Self-Denial
It Says: Begone, Thot!"

And with that, gagging on his own vapor, he proceeds to puff puff puff on the hilt, his shadow outlining as the thick yellow cloud conceals him.

COMBATSYS: Buford pushes himself past 10% of his strength and chokes on his fattest cloud yet...

[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////////         ]
Djamila          1/-----<</<<<<<<<|=======\-------\1           Buford

[DJAMILA]
She expects an attack. Instead, she smells more smoke. It's like he wants to push people away from him. Then wonders why people stay away from him. It's kind of funny, kind of sad. It is what it is. We all have our weaknesses, and our own life to go through.

With those thoughts, she decides to attack. She unhooks her staff and goes through the cloud. She starts sweeping low with a kick but then winds push her up, and the kick ends up at his head, if she has her way, before landing back on the ground. At least, that's the plan.

As she does that, she says.

"In shadows, we hide."
"Fool's refuge, self-denial."
"Escape from the real."

She probably isn't very good at this, but she's having fun. That's what matters. Even the pain, makes you learn something. Too bad her top is ruined now.

COMBATSYS: Buford endures Djamila's Light Kick!

[      \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Djamila          1/---<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\=====--\1           Buford

[BUFORD]
Buford was waiting.

Certainly, the person who worked the hardest at pushing people away, was Buford himself. The Canadian always craved intimacy, but his very actions to get it, only served to push people further away. Buford was ignorant of his shortcomings. But instead of overcoming them, the difficult paths was becoming abandoned. In it's place? Violence, anger, and a growing cruelty and ruthlessness. Buford was coughing and gagging on his own vapors, but he was baiting the trap. As she launches into the fog, aiming for the shadow of his head, Buford steps forward, taking the blow head on. And with it, he bellows out from the cloud as he surges back at Djamila, stopping his coughing.

"Those Who Brave My Mist"
"Know Not Of Dangers Within
"Now I Have Caught You!"

Buford surges back, a blur of slashes cutting through the mists. Stepping forward, forward, a slashing storm, he breaks the assault by giving a single, pivoting full moon slash, unleashing a whirlwind of fog that surges through the whole of Vito's. It doesn't actually hurt, of course.

But it really messes up some dinners in the process, let me tell you that.

COMBATSYS: Djamila counters Tenderless Reaper from Buford with Jade Split.

[      \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////                      ]
Djamila          0/-------/------<|=======\====---\1           Buford

[DJAMILA]
Djamila is surprised when Buford seems to simply take the hit. That's how it feels like anyway. Too bad she didn't kick him even harder. But that will do. The wind seems to have protected Djamila from getting a coughing fit, though it is still nasty

He seems to think he trapped her... did he?

When Buford starts doing his blur of slashes, Djamila starts blocking some of them, winds spinning around her. It seems to make her faster as her staff is a blur itself. Before Buford can complete, she suddenly sweeps low with her leg, while her staff blocks another slash. As she takes his legs from under him and makes him fall, she stands back up and slams her staff in his sternum, using wind to push it even harder in, before setting back.

"Pretend as the prey."
"Predator in disguise lurk."
"Best trap, cunning guise."

[BUFORD]
Impossible!

Buford doesn't even seem to recognize what was going to happen, was going to happen. As he brings the finishing slash, his legs are swept right from under him. Knocked straight to the ground, the diners' meals are saved as she slams his staff into him, knocking out the wind out of him as she uses the wind in. As the mists thin from the power of the wind chi...

Buford puts on a terrible face.

Blood coming from his lips, he charges back up. He would lead in with a shoulder check, attempting to slam Djamila with a rather direct tackle to slam her into the wall. There, he would replenish the thick clouds of fog all around, burbling it out thick and heavy before he would begin to slash. A slash to the left, the right, all around, faster and faster, accelerating more and more as he flashes from side to side, unleashing a sword slashing frenzy that would finish with his back to Djamila, the mist fading away... except the one on his back. A symbol of kanji, as Buford would explain.

"NO NO NO NO NO!
"IT's Not Fair! I'm The Ronin!
"You're Just Some Female!"

COMBATSYS: Buford successfully hits Djamila with Musarama Wrath.

[                \\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////                      ]
Djamila          1/------=/=======|===----\-------\0           Buford

[DJAMILA]
Djamila smirks. But it won't last long. As something is coming.

She tries to move out of the way, but he can be surprisingly fast for his stature. She gets slammed into the wall hard. She then is defenseless as the slash comes from all sides. Left, Right, Left, Right. In a way, she understands how bread feels like at the moment. Her top is ruined, her body might be ruined at the moment, bleeding from several areas from the slashes. She falls to her knees, thinking this was a big mistake.

But then he says. 'You're just some female.' He dares say that. She gets back on her knees. "Ok, round two you little bitch."

"The female kicks ass."
"The baboon cries tears of blood."
"Go die already!"

Now that he has his back to her, she grabs her staff firmly, twirls around tries to smack the left side of his head as if she had a baseball bat, and then shifts back to the other side. She was going to win this now. Fuck this guy. Just some females. What the fuck. "You can shove our dinner up your ass. Not sure at what end it is right now!" Yes, she's pissed, even if she's bloody.

COMBATSYS: Buford blocks Djamila's Evasive Strike EX.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////                        ]
Djamila          1/------=/=======|====---\-------\0           Buford

[BUFORD]
"Hmph! Calm your hysterics!"

Buford tenses himself up, as she lunges in. Bracing himself, he brings his blade, catching the staff. It grazes his swollen head, nearly knocking him over. But anger overflows with his savage heart. Buford scowls, jowls shaking. "Perhaps fighting isn't befitting for women! They are all irrational, hateful teases, who distract with dirty tricks and lies! Even the very young ones!" It was very hard to breath. But as his stables himself out, he brings his hilt once more to his lips. The mist is thinning, he's almost all out. But when he thinks about how she is talking about a dinner, like she really -meant- that she wanted to spend time with him, well.

The misogyny becomes fuel for the Buford.

Buford bellows out a wave of mist, before giving a worrying defensive swipe. Shifting into the mists, he begins to dash and dance, dipping in and out with three more slashes from the fogs. With each slash from each flank, he gives a line of a haiku.

"To Describe Females,"
The Weaker Sex, Demanding
Protection From Men!"

Buford finishes with a dashing horizontal slice, escaping free from the cloud as he completes his waltz in three parts, leaping on top of a table to achieve the high ground.

COMBATSYS: Buford blitzes into action and acts again!

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////                       ]
Djamila          1/------=/=======|====---\-------\0           Buford

COMBATSYS: Buford successfully hits Djamila with Evasive Strike.

[                   \\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////                        ]
Djamila          0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0           Buford

COMBATSYS: Djamila counters Cloudchaser EX from Buford with Improvised Smack.

[                 \\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///                           ]
Djamila          0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0           Buford

[DJAMILA]
She can't help it. That idiot pisses her off. She can be nice to almost anyone, but this one can go hang. "I will show you if women can fight!" She seems quite livid right now. Her attack didn't hit clean but it's ok. She has more. "To think I was going to freaking dine with you."

The defensive swipe surprises her. She tries to move, but it hits her. She winces, but she's not done yet. Pain is nothing compared to his mouth.

But when he starts dancing around with slashes, she waits, moving as she needs, and at his third slash, she smacks him right in the chin with her staff, to stop him in his tracks. "Stay the fuck down."

Then she adds another Haiku of her own.

"Samurai pretends."
"Want penis in what he fears"
" But is simply gay."

If she could glare, she would. "Now stay the fuck down, if you know what's good for you. When it's all done, go and apologize to your mother for being such a rotten man-child! She doesn't deserve this!" She is tired, but she is standing, she's not going to go down, even if this continues. She's doing this for all women in the world.

[BUFORD]
Buford takes the most important blow to the head.

Staggered out of his slashing storm, he stumbles backwards. "I have a girlfriend! She's just on Hitscord and she lives in Europe, you probably wouldn't know her." Buford stumbles, his defenses falling away one by one. The mist is gone now, he is exposed in the open. "I have dozens of Hitscord kittens, each serving me. But... but..." He falls on his knees, his sword low on the ground. He breathes hard, as he justifies.

"What's wrong with a boyish girl, or a girlish boy!? What's wrong with a girl who can behave like a man? Or a man that behaves like... like... "

Buford roars defiantly, in a moment of important comprehension. Buford snarls, as he throws himself up into the air. Unleashing a full circular slash with his blade, he rips through the air, a razor sharp spin bringing with it, his final attack back at Djamila. All as he sighs a haiku with his final rising slash.

"The Perfect Woman,
The One Made For My Pleasure
Perhaps, It's A Man?"

Buford's heart gives out, as he falls from his ascent, landing with a crash into the remains of his soiled tendies.

COMBATSYS: Buford can no longer fight. Is this the end of lovable Buford?

[                 \\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Djamila          0/-------/--=====|

COMBATSYS: Djamila blocks Buford's Bury The Light EX.

[                    \\\\\\\\\\  <
Djamila          0/-------/----===|

[DJAMILA]
Djamila answers, "Nothing is wrong with any of those. Something is wrong with you. You're a disgrace to all the good men and an insult to every woman in existence. You have a problem, and usually someone who fears...

Before she can finish, she has to react. Her instinct analyses everything in a short amount of time. It was weird. She never felt like this before. If she takes the blow head-on, she's not sure to be able to take it. Her staff could take the brunt of it, however. So up her staff goes. The slash hits hit hard, and she feels the pain in her arms. Her body is tired. The slashes are still painful. She needs rest and meditation. But for now, she stays up. This did not take her down "If you find true love."
"You will truly realize "
"How nasty you are."

The last haiku of the match, it looks like. She allows herself to set her staff down and lean heavily on it. "I was going to have dinner with you. But you don't love us. I don't know if your mother did something to you, but you hate us and or fear us." She takes a deep breath to calm herself. She's tired, the adrenaline will leave her soon, and the pain will hit harder. She's victorious but physically, Buford held his own. It's too bad for the rest.

Log created on 09:36:29 10/05/2023 by Buford, and last modified on 11:10:15 10/10/2023.