Match of the Millennium

Description: An assassination contract goes awry when a meal in costume leads to a case of mistaken identity. Death is on the menu at the Sleeping Dragon!

[RAFFERTY]
Rafferty hadn't expected to be in Southtown again so soon. He'd left back in the Spring after graduating from Pacific High, intent on setting off on a luxury cruise liner for a Mediterranean vacation, before heading to his homeland of California in time for the start of production of TV shows in August. Upon arriving in Turkey however, he'd discovered that the boat was full of brawlers on their way to some fighting competition. Not his idea of relaxation at all! He'd taken a detour to Istanbul, followed by a stint in Santorini, where he'd got a gorgeously golden tan. Stays in Milan, Madrid, Paris and London followed, before the model turned actor had made his way back to Hollywood right on schedule.

Once settled in an apartment share with a couple of other young hopefuls, he took some shifts as a waiter in a Japanese restaurant, whilst working modelling jobs on the side. It was during the former that he'd been approached by a Japanese man in a sharp suit. Smiling his most dazzling smile (It's a wonderful way to earn tips), Rafferty had at first been sceptical when the man told him he was looking for a Westerner to star in a movie alongside an otherwise all Asian cast. He couldn't help but laugh as the man went on to explain it would be filmed in Southtown. As Rafferty shared stories of his schooling there, the man became convinced that his discovery was destined for the part. Reluctant at first, since he'd been hoping to be cast in something California based, the blond boy eventually agreed to an audition.

A few weeks later he'd found himself on a flight to Southtown airport, ready to start work on the movie set. He was thrilled to find out that he was to play the second lead, the sidekick to the main character of Isamu, and also that he was being put up in a rather plush looking hotel in the city centre. After completing the first few days of filming, the American teen has started to feel more confident in his role.

Following a long day on set, Rafferty has found himself hankering for some Kung Pao Chicken, so has headed straight to the Chinatown area of the city. He's sitting in a restaurant named The Sleeping Dragon, a place that still bears the scars of structural damage from the distant past. It serves incredibly tasty food though, so he's happy to ignore these visual issues to satisfy one of his other senses.

Still in costume, he's currently sporting a shaggy shoulder-length midnight-blue wig over his usual short platinum locks and wearing silver-tinted contact lenses that cover his bright-blue eyes. Throw in a pair of clear-lensed glasses and a long black coat and even his former schoolfriends or work colleagues would struggle to recognise Rafferty right now.

[CARISSA]
==*== EARLIER ==*==

The turquoise-haired assassin-for-hire turned the photograph and squinted slightly at the figure depicted in it with a slight look of annoyance on her face as her client awaited her response with shivering patience.

"You know, dumpling, going digital would make this way easier on everybody involved," Carissa said, voice dripping with ironic sweetness. "Like, is his hair blue or black? Does he always wear glasses? Are his eyes grey, or is that just the lighting?"

"D-dumpling?!" the stout client bristled. "Show some respect! This man has caused me unspeakable dishonour!"

"No need to speak it, then," Carissa said with a shrug as she looked for somewhere to put the photograph before tucking it into the cleavage formed by her leather corset. She examines her gloved fingertips. "Anyway, forgive the nicknames, dumpling. Murder makes me hungry, and I'm thinking Chinese."

==*== PRESENTLY ==*==

It might be a bit subtle at first, particularly if Rafferty's attention is on anything other than his environs, as the paper lanterns that illuminate the restaurant start to wink out one by one until the lighting has become especially faint and moody. By the time that a server approaches Rafferty's table with what appears to be his order, her features are masked in shadows, though her turquoise hair stands out in the darkness, as do the patches of pale skin uncovered by her white blouse and black skirt. The long gothic stockings are a bit much, but maybe that's just an attempt to drum up business for the restaurant in its fading glory. "Kung Pao Chicken?" the sing-song voice of a foreigner imitating a local accent comes as a platter is placed in front of Rafferty. Unusually, it's covered in a wooden dome, like a steamed dish, rather than served in an open bowl as one would expect.

And if Rafferty opens the cloche, he'll find (after a release of steam) that his Kung Pao Chicken seems to have been replaced with a lone fortune cookie.

[RAFFERTY]
As his waitress approaches, Rafferty looks up from his pearl-white cell phone with anticipation. He can feel his flat stomach growling with hunger, as he imagines savouring the blend of spicy, sweet and salty tastes.

The turquoise-haired female is pretty delicious too. He takes in the details of her costume, nodding in approval at the choice of stockings. They give a sexy touch to otherwise standard serving attire. "I'm looking forward to this." He declares, licking his lips as she sets the dish down on the table before him. His elegant nose twitches, ready to breathe in the aroma of the food as it's revealed to him from beneath the wooden dome.

"That's not what I ordered." He says, sounding somewhat sulky. "I will take it of course, but I do hope my food is on the way." Reaching out with his long fingers, he opens up the cookie, readying himself to read the message of wisdom contained inside.

[CARISSA]
"Oh, yes. Your order will be up any moment now, honeybun," the mysterious waitress says, her icy blue eyes almost seeming to glow in the dark behind Rafferty's back as they study his features, confirming what she's already ascertained.

Blue-black hair? Check.
Glasses? Check.
Silver eyes? Check.

He does look a bit hotter than the picture, though.

The message written on the slip of paper inside the fortune cookie is hard to read at first - when did the lighting get so dark in here? - but, helpfully, a pair of green lights rise up on either side of Rafferty's shoulders to illuminate the text as it's unfurled.

'Death isn't something you find. Death is something that finds you.'

Strangely, the word 'Love' appears to have been crossed out twice, with the word 'Death' replacing it.

How did somebody manage to edit the message while it was inside the cookie?

Rafferty might have just enough time to wonder as much before the light in the restaurant fades completely, the green points of ghostly flame having formed into the shape of a black scythe - now arcing through the darkness toward the model's neck!

[RAFFERTY]
Honeybun? That seems a little over familiar for a waitress, but he does often have that effect on people, particularly those attracted to men, or just pretty people in general.

As the inner message of the cookie is revealed, Rafferty looks confused, his smooth brow furrowing into a frown beneath his blue bangs. At one time he would have quickly moved to smooth this out, but right now he seems remarkably relaxed about letting his facial muscles do what they will. Perhaps it's the shock.

"What a horrible message." He drawls, crumpling up the cookie and discarding it on the table cloth. Is that a sudden chill he feels in his fine bones, or is it his imagination.? "I think somebody has been playing a mean trick on me and I don't appreciate it."

Turning to look at the deliverer of this message of doom, the disguised teen is startled to see the sinister scythe, glowing green in the dimly lit dining establishment. Letting out a shrill scream that causes several other customers to turn towards them, he leaps to his feet, placing his hands over his neck in protection and attempting to flee.

He doesn't get far, stumbling into a table and sending a glass of Sake into someone's lap as he hurriedly heads for the street outside!

[CARISSA]
There's a barely audible breeze that blows through the blackness as the scythe narrowly misses Rafferty's neck, sending a few freshly-severed blue strands floating slowly toward the floor. The weapon twirls before its base is planted against the wooden floor and twisted around so that its wielder can examine the blade - which remains pristine and blood-free.

The corners of the waitress's blood red lips curve upward.

"Oh, thank goodness, honeybun. I thought this was gonna be way too quick to be satisfying," the woman says as she reaches down to her blouse. With one swift motion, she pulls it over her head, loosening the bun that her hair was worn in in the process, before letting it drop to the floor. Underneath, she's wearing a black zip-front leather corset, strapped to which are a pair of black skull-shaped shoulderpads. Artificial black ribcages clinging to armbands wrap around her biceps, and a belt made of little black bones meshed into segments and covered with nine more black skulls wraps around her waist. It's now also noticeable that her boots feature skull kneepads.

"Five... four... three... two... one," the obviously skull-obsessed assassin counts down slowly as she pulls on a pair of black forearm-length gloves with skull elbow pads one at a time.

And then, head start given, she's off - or almost is, until the air fills with a sound of ripping fabric.

"Ugh. So impractical," Carissa remarks as she grabs hold of her pencil skirt's torn hem and tears it the rest of the way off, tossing it aside. Down to her black bikini bottoms, the liberated Murder Barbie lunges forward in leaps and bounds, sprinting with effortless grace through the front door and into the street after her prey. A single deep inhalation through her nostrils should be enough to tell her where the freshly familiar scent of the victim-to-be's soul leads - assuming he isn't making it even easier by continuing to scream.

"Honeybun! Don't go running off on me, now! We've got a date!" she taunts, uncaring of who might witness her as she swings her scythe in a helicopter motion to gently encourage bystanders to make way.

[RAFFERTY]
Unaware that his character's wig has been damaged, the tall teen continues on through the restaurant, refusing to stop until he steps into the night air. Once on the street, he takes a deep breath and feels his heart pounding beneath the leather fabric of his coat.

"You know you don't need to run like a scaredy cat now, don't you?" Mocks a voice in his head. "You can cope with the likes of her after the gifts I've given you." Although he knows that the speaking comes from within, Rafferty can't resist turning around to seek out the source. It's then that he sees the wicked waitress in hot pursuit.

She's now wearing remarkably less clothes and her long hair flows freely around her face. "An improvement." He murmurs, unable to stop himself from admiring the aesthetic, even if she's threatening to be the death of him. As she starts to gain ground, he calls back to her. "I didn't agree to any date. I think you might be delusional."

Any crowds in Carissa's path don't hesitate to allow her through, not wanting to get anywhere near the weapon she's wielding. "I suggest you go home and call your therapist." The budding actor suggests. "Or maybe take a bubble bath. In fact, I think I'll go ahead and do that myself."

[CARISSA]
"It's a blind date, silly! Your friend arranged it," the turquoise-haired skull harvester taunts as she continues to sprint through Chinatown after the blue-haired young man. "You know, the one you caused unspeakable dishonour to? Don't ask me what that's all about, he didn't speak about it. I'm just here to let you know how he feels. Now, hold still! Otherwise, this is gonna get real messy."

Under the moonlight, the already pale girl's skin and hair take on an almost spectral, silvery glow, as if it were a ghost in pursuit of her quarry. As they race through the streets, Rafferty manages to cross a road right before the light changes and traffic resumes. What might have seemed an opportunity to escape soon fades, though, as Carissa leaps, flipping forward into oncoming traffic and rolling across the hood of a car as its owner slams on the brakes. Hope rises anew when she disappears from view completely as a delivery truck coming the opposite direction drives straight through the crosswalk, horn blaring. A second later, though, she tumbles out of the trailer of the vehicle and onto the sidewalk in a blink of ghostly green light, smelling faintly of motor oil and mangoes as she lands in a crouch.

"Great. Now I'm gonna need a bubble bath," she pouts as her scythe reforms in her hand and she pushes up to her feet. "Especially once I'm covered in your blood. Now, stop running already, honeybun! You're just gonna die tired!"

[RAFFERTY]
"Which friend?" Rafferty yells back, cursing the fact that he's having to over-extend his voice to have her hear him. He needs that to be in perfect working order for his part. "Do you mean Hinata?" He wonders, referring to the man who plays the main part in the movie.

"I most certainly did not cause him dishonour. It was a mistake that I sat in his chair that one time. It was just such an attractive design and I simply wanted to test if it felt as good as it looked." He huffs a bit as he continues to move through Southtown, managing to make his way safely across the road and hopefully out of this crazy chick's grasp.

"You know, some people just take themselves far too seriously." He mutters on, glancing back to see if she's gone. What he sees when he does is a ghostly figure, which must surely be a trick of the moonlight? He watches in horror as she fearlessly manoeuvres the traffic to turn up far too close to him!

"Leave me alone." He pleads with her. "I'm really not in the mood for you menacing me. I'm sure there's plenty of other maniacs in this city that would welcome the attention, so why don't you go and find one of them to play with?"

As he speaks, something starts to stir inside him. He imagines taking hold of the girl and gripping her by the throat. He gasps as the vision fills his mind and clutches a hand to his mouth, before shaking his head. "You smell like mango." He accuses her angrily. "It reminds me of Nena."

[CARISSA]
"Yeah, well, I'm not like I'm -one hundred percent- ghost," Carissa gripes as she tries to fleck away some of the strange melange of motor oil and mango juice that's somehow come with her on her metaphysical trip through the truck, sauntering ever closer to Rafferty as she rests her scythe across her shoulders. She twinges and touches her throat for a moment, clearing it. "Ugh. All these names you keep throwing around are totally meaningless to me, honeybun. I don't take names from my clients. Works better for everybody that way. Your friend - I'll just call him 'dumpling' - was clearly pissed off about more than just some chair. I'm guessing you diddled Missus Dumpling or something. Or maybe he really is just that defensive about his furniture. Frankly, it's none of my business, and all this talking is killing the mood for me."

The turquoise-haired assassin tilts her head to one side. "Why don't you try begging me for your life? That always gets my motor running."

As she makes the suggestion, she lowers the scythe into a ready stance, stroking one gloved hand along the length of its haft.

"Or you can try calling me crazy again, if you like it slow and painful."

[RAFFERTY]
"I've not been diddling Missus Dumpling!" Rafferty protests. "As delicious as she sounds. I've not had any such relations since I left Los Angeles."

Folding his arms in front of his chest in a protective gesture, the young actor shakes his head. "I don't beg to anyone or anything. At least not these days." He adds under his breath as an aside. "So if you want me on my knees you're out of luck. You'll have to find some other victim to target. Or..." A slow smile appears on his pretty face. "We can settle this with violence."

As he speaks his silver-eyed gaze looks down towards his right hand. A vivid-green glow starts to appear around it as he flexes his fingers. The glow mimics the gesture, following the boy's lead again as he forms a fist. "What do you say, honeybun? Are you in the mood to play?"

[CARISSA]
The green glow reflects in the spectral assassin's eyes as the smile spreads across her quarry's face. They follow the energy as it mimics Rafferty's gesture. She takes a deep breath in through her nostrils, then shivers as a grin splits her ruby lips.

"Ooh. I think I just got a chill down my spine. I can't remember the last time that happened, honeybun."

She runs her hand across the outer edge of her scythe's blade, stroking the cold metal affectionately as she keeps her eyes on Rafferty.

"Now, it's a real date."

She gives a pair of practice slices through the air with her weapon before holding it at the ready again. "Having a playmate that wants to give it to me just as much is always way more fun. But, honeybun, you're going to have to choose a new nickname for me. Pick something original. Now, let's play!~"

COMBATSYS: Carissa has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Carissa          0/-------/-------|

[RAFFERTY]
As the blades slices through the air, Rafferty stands his ground, his whole demeanour different to that of the terrified teen who'd fled the restaurant. "How about sugar pie?" He suggests. "Not that you seem too sweet. I figure you more for the spicy sort."

With his left hand he removes his glasses, slipping them into his coat pocket, before doing the same with the silver contacts, being careful to make sure that the pocket is closed. Beneath these disguises his eyes are a bright shade of blue, but soon start to shift to the same glowing green as the energy around his right hand.

Now free from any barriers between them, Rafferty fixes his gaze on Carissa as his eyes start to flash, sending out psychic lasers towards her. Should these hit, she's likely to be feeling the burn!

COMBATSYS: Rafferty has joined the fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Carissa          0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0         Rafferty

COMBATSYS: Rafferty knocks away Carissa with Smoulder.

[      \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Carissa          0/-------/--<<<<<|==-----\-------\0         Rafferty

[CARISSA]
"How do you know I'm not sweet when you haven't had a taste yet, honeybun?" Carissa taunts before sliding her tongue between her ivory incisors. She presses her lips together in a pout when he starts removing his glasses and contacts, though - steadily undoing the image that had previously matched with that of the target she'd been contracted for. "Hey! Don't tell me I've got the wrong mark," she whines. "That means I'll have to save something for later."

Her shoulders slouch for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "Eh, we're practically on third base now anyway. We can worry about that late-ahhhh!"

The blast of psychic energy slams into the corpus of the semi-spectral killer, sending her flying backward through a brick wall behind her with a cry of surprise - leaving the wall intact. A moment later, she jumps out of the building through a window, the sound of the building's occupants screaming emerging as the portal is smashed open. As she lands in a crouch, the scythe is gone, and instead, her fingertips now glow with ghostly blue claws.

"Somebody's underpaying me, honeybun," the assassin snarls, her demeanour now seeming more animalistic. "But that's not your problem. Now have some sugar and spice!"

Leaping forward like a predatory beast, she spins with clawed arms outstretched, attempting to slice not only into Rafferty's skin, but his very soul with the cold, ghostly talons!

COMBATSYS: Rafferty blocks Carissa's Full Circle.

[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Carissa          0/-------/--<<<<<|===----\-------\0         Rafferty

[RAFFERTY]
"Good point." Rafferty responds to Carissa's taunting tongue. "Maybe I'll give you a licking, after I've given you a good kicking."

He watches her reaction to the revealing of his eyes and continues stripping back the layers, this time pulling off his wig to expose the platinum hair beneath. Placing the wig into the other pocket of his coat, he remarks. "I think we've gone past the point of pretending, don't you? I don't know who this mark is you've been sent to slaughter, but I'm damn sure it isn't me. I bet he's not even half-way as handsome. I'm not too upset how things have turned out though, for the record. Who knows? Perhaps all this is fate."

Before the blond boy can continue his banter, his would-be-assassin is sent sailing through the brick building. For just the briefest of seconds, he wears a startled look on his face, still not used to the power he possesses. He's had his abilities for some time now, ever since shortly before he and his schoolfriends tackled that damn dinosaur, but he's been burying them down deep, like some guilty secret, much to the annoyance of some sources. It feels good to finally let his fighting skills get some fresh air.

As the blue-haired (and blue-clawed) beauty lands before him, Rafferty finds himself relieved that he hasn't scared her away. "It seems we're both glowing, sugar pie." He says in a silvery-tone.

As she leaps towards him, the lad spins around, using his back to block her cruel claws from penetrating his silky-soft skin. Somehow he can still feel them through the thick fabric of his leather coat though. "I suspect I may have some scratches there." He muses, not seeming overly concerned.

"Now." He continues, turning back towards her. "Are you happy to continue our dance or would you prefer to get dinner first?"

COMBATSYS: Rafferty strikes a dramatic pose!

[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Carissa          0/-------/--<<<<<|===----\-------\0         Rafferty

[CARISSA]
Carissa lands in a half-kneel on the far side of her foe after her deadly spinning attack, her claws held out to either side. If she hadn't already ditched the pencil skirt before, it definitely would have had it now.

"Maybe I'll keep that tongue of yours as a souvenir once I'm finished with you," the ghostly assassin purrs as she flexes her phantom-claw-tipped fingers in sequence like so many nail extensions. "I wonder if someone's setting one of us up here. That brief was pretty specific. Who put you up to that cosplay, anyway?"

Circling her hands at her side with her fingertips close to each other, she causes the ghostly essence that's formed her (super)natural weaponry to reshape itself into twin orbs of deathly pyrelight that circle each other, phantasmal faces appearing in both - before she spins around to unleash them toward Rafferty, the paired spirits leaping forth like twin missiles to try and pierce through his earthly body!

Should they do so, despite the appearance of flame, they would manifest as a chilling frost in his very soul, striking at his essence while leaving his physical form unharmed...

COMBATSYS: Rafferty blocks Carissa's Firefly.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////    ]
Carissa          0/-------/-<<<<<<|====---\-------\0         Rafferty

[RAFFERTY]
Rafferty waggles his tongue at Carissa, continuing to tease her. "Come get it then." He says coolly, as his green eyes flash with mischief and he positions his angular frame into a remarkably flexible pose.

As she ponders the possibility of a setup, the Californian seems to consider the suggestion. "Maybe so. My money would be on Lyraelle if it is the case. She still hasn't forgiven me fully for the Johnny Cage incident." He cryptically comments. "I was only in costume though because I'm an actor. I came straight from the set and that's what my character look like." He explains, referring to the longer blue hair, grey eyes and glasses he'd previously been wearing.

He watches her hands work the weaponry, seemingly mesmerised by the dexterous display. "Your friends are pretty frightening." He declares, though his voice stays steady. Once they are launched towards him however, Rafferty is quick to react!

He opens his coat, using it as a shield to absorb some of the supernatural energy, but despite it being struck, it seems strangely unharmed. He can't say the same for himself however. A sudden shiver passes through his body, causing him to bring the coat closer around him. This has little effect, given that the freezing feeling seems to be coming from within. He frowns at her, feeling at risk of the fun slipping away. He needs to shake things up some.

Flexing the fingers of his right hand, the telekinetic hand follows suit, it's green glow forming into claws. With a gleeful grin, Rafferty rushes towards Carissa with superhuman speed, swiping at her repeatedly.

COMBATSYS: Rafferty knocks away Carissa with Intensity.
- Power hit! -

[                   \\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////////////     ]
Carissa          1/=======/=======|=======\-------\0         Rafferty

[CARISSA]
"Names, names, names," Carissa scoffs with a glower as Rafferty rattles off his suspicions about a certain celebrity ex-succubus and Hollywood actor. The assassin-to-be seems unimpressed. "I already told you, I don't do names." With a swift and simple gesture, she beckons the bone-chilling ghostlights back to her hand, where they coalesce into a rapidly growing haft... and soon, a familiar scythe, tipped with a skull design. Apparently, the souls and scythe are one and the same.

"Don't be scared. They're friendly. They just want playmates," she says as she gives the scythe's metallic blade an affectionate smooch. "Of course, they only play with other ghosts," she adds ominously.

As Rafferty's own psychic energy forms into green claws, Carissa scowls openly. "Hey! That's my trick, honeybu-YAUUUGGHH!"

Rafferty is on her faster than she can anticipate, her sidestep too slow to avoid him as he drives her back with relentless, ravaging slices. "Oh, God... yesss! It hurts so much, honeybun!" she trills as the thrill of soul-savaging pain digs into her corpus. She's sent spiralling into the air by the final blow, leaving her to crash into the ground some distance away in a pool of blood and leaking spiritual essence. Her body twitches with ecstatic agony as she forces it to rise like a ghoul taking its second first breath.

"This ain't just between us, is it, honeybun?" she groans, her black eyeliner streaking as she staggers into a battle-stance, rearing back her scythe. "Where'dja get all that power from? I can see your shadow..."

The delirious gleam in her eye suggests that she's not entirely present anymore - but with or without her mind's cooperation, her body jerks forward, the scythe swinging swiftly through the air as it threatens to slice the model in half!

COMBATSYS: Rafferty deflects Fatal Harvest from Carissa with Magnum+.

[                            \\  < >  /////////////////////////     ]
Carissa          2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|==-----\-------\0         Rafferty

[RAFFERTY]
"Got it. No names then, sugar pie." Rafferty responds with a melodic laugh.

As he observes Carissa making out with her scythe, he raises his perfectly-groomed eyebrows. "Maybe you'd rather go on a date with your weapon." He suggests. "Well, it and the ghostly gang."

When he finishes his assault on both her body and mind, he edges backwards, surveying the damage done. She strangely seems to enjoy the substantial pain he's persecuted her with. "I'm glad I could provide satisfaction." He quips, the corners of his mouth curling up into a smirk.

He's soon silenced though, when Carissa refers to his shadow. He stares at her cautiously, before whispering in hushed tones. "You can see it?" He brings his left hand to his throat to clutch at it, whilst his glowing right hangs by his side, pulsing with potential energy.

"I don't think anyone else is aware." His complexion has noticeably paled, the remains of his golden tan gone for the moment. "Well, other than..."

He stops himself before he can say too much, sealing that particular subject back in the box it belongs in. Besides, he has other things to handle right now, such as the assassin threating to slice and dice him!

"I DO NOT THINK SO!" He yells, causing something of a stir as a group of tourists scurry by. Ignoring them, he turns his stunning face sharply to the left, his lips forming into a petulant pout, whilst his piercing blue eyes become green again. As they start to glow, he gazes at the ghostly girl, channelling all of the aggression aimed towards him right back at her!

[CARISSA]
"Ewww, no. They're way too old for me," Carissa manages to mention at some point between Rafferty's comment and the violence that ensues thereafter.

As she attempts to bring the scythe to bear, though, the force of Rafferty's dramatic eyeglint stops her in her tracks. Green energy washes over her, starting from the tip of her weapon and rapidly enveloping her entire corpus. She goes rigid as she starts to slump to the ground, hand tight around her weapon like a deathgrip.

"So... pretty..." she moans with ghostly detachment as she slumps to her knees, eyes wide with glorious pain. She lifts them up almost lifelessly to regard Rafferty.

"Can we do it again, honeybun?" the skull-clad spectre supplicates softly.

COMBATSYS: Carissa takes no action.

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

COMBATSYS: Carissa can no longer fight.

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

[RAFFERTY]
"Age is but a number." Rafferty states, sounding somewhat uncertain. After that it's all about the actions rather than words, until Carissa is left grounded and gazing up at him.

"You'll have to catch me first, sugar pie" He answers, deciding against helping her to her feet. "And don't be following me now. That would be cheating."

With that he's walking away, whistling a cheery tune that sounds suspiciously like SexyBack by Justin Timberlake.

Log created on 10:18:21 11/21/2024 by Carissa, and last modified on 14:36:16 11/22/2024.