Description: A No-Holds-Barred exhibition match in the Howard Arena after-hours pits Shermie against Vanessa. Sleep-deprived hijinx ensue.
It's well past the time SNF has gone down. Now, late into the night, the arena is hosting an entirely different kind of fight; No Holds Barred. Customary for after-hours brawls, especially for those restless fighters that can't find it in them to sleep-- or have a serious bone to pick, or are simple that bored-- there are still those who remain in the stands. Most of them have surpassed their ability to acquire more beer, which only makes them rowdier than usual, the lot of them intent on watching whatever spectacle is put out before them. The aim is clear: the audience that lingers calls out for blood, or something else equally entertaining.
It's enough to drive lesser fighters off, given the intensity of their shouting, or, alternatively, cat-calling.
Not so for Vanessa. Having gotten a few good drinks under -her- belt, the redhead is poised at the edge of the arena, waiting for the announcer to give a heads-up. And for an opponent, for that matter. Once it's made clear that there's someone else who's making their way into the fray-- someone unbeknownst to her, though it'll be amusing once she puts two and two together-- she steps out into the arena, her presence met with a wide variety of out and out slurs and other various kinds of heckling. Jeering. What have you. Comments that range from lipstick to the outright tomboyish attire. And then some.
There's nothing calm or sedate about the arena tonight. It -is- a touch intimdating, but it's all something to digest, and output into something far more lucrative. For the boxer, it comes down to a continued struggle to hone skill levels-- and, to get into a brawl that isn't about to fizzle out into something aggravatingly touch-and-go. Like the audience, she's out for an honest-to-christ fight, even if it amounts to cheap tricks and foul play.
No Holds Barred? Well, that's good. Because that's all Shermie is going to have for the fans and her opponent tonight. Holds, throws, maybe some sex appeal depending on her mood and/or opponent. As she makes her way down the hall that leads to her the entrance on her side of the arena, the French woman starts to smirk. She can tell just by the sound of the crowd what kind of match this is going to be. /Her/ kind. So when she finally makes her entrance, she does it... backwards. She steps leisurely out, with her hands up behind her head and fingers laced together like she just doesn't care. If one could see her from the front, of course, they'd probably think she couldn't see even when facing them, but that's relly not the point, is it?
"A redhead, hm?" Did she pick that up from the crowd, or does she just have eyes in the back of her head? "I'll make this fun, don't worry, party girl." Shermie's hands then come down to rest on her hips, and she turns around to lean forward just long enough to offer a free shot. She's not going to hold herself open like that for /long/, but it's long enough that if Vanessa doesn't take it she'll probably regret it...
COMBATSYS: Shermie has started a fight here.
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Shermie 0/-------/-------|
Whereas the boxer herself is more prone to the hustling of the more underground brawlings-- the kinds you see taking place in bar basements and street corners, with bloodied knuckles and even more bloodied faces-- she apparently comes from an entirely different world than the creature that makes her way into the arena. Blinking noticably-- hell, almost audibly-- at the entrance the other woman makes, Vanessa is, for once in her long life, stricken to absolute silence for a time. There's so many straightlines... she honestly doesn't know where to begin.
This one is just as rife with the possibility for verbal repartee as her poorly-dressed meatslab of a man-- not that she's in any way aware of the frenchwoman's connection with Yashiro -just- yet.
"You've -got- to be kidding me," she says, halfsmirking at Shermie as she readies herself, assuming a stance that's common to most boxers. Of course... the comment of 'party girl' just makes her quirk an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm sure you make it fun," she replies dryly-- "--But I was pretty sure that included a $10-spot and a trip to the bathroom." That said, there's no reason to hesitate. Shermie's wide open-- oh, the things that could be said about -that- --and there's no reason to hold back... except for maybe a -little-. Starting out with an outright dash to cover the distance, Vanessa's fist snaps up in an immediate attempt to slam it against the frenchwoman's jaw in a fierce uppercut, the attack acting as both a test and a means to stagger; after all, this could be just as much a trick as everything else she's seen since her arrival.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa has joined the fight here.
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Vanessa 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shermie
COMBATSYS: Vanessa successfully hits Shermie with Dash Puncher.
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Vanessa 0/-------/------=|===----\-------\0 Shermie
That's right, Shermie doesn't really come with much of a background in fighting. She's a newbie if ever you saw one, but she puts on a great show, and sometimes that's all you need. Or at least, that's how most people would explain it. There's a certain god that would say different. And of course, that beefy guy she fangirls over would tell a different tale as well. She herself though, she's not even going to say Vanessa's wrong when she calls her promiscuous. She will, however, play coy as always. "Oh my. You redheads really are feisty. That one stung just a little."
*CRACK*
And so did that. She of course, can't say as much, what with all the pain in her jaw when she tries to move it, but she can laugh! "Ahahahaha~!" Somehow? It seems like she liked that... Which means, no trick. There was no surprise counter attack. She was merely trying to judge Vanessa's strength just as much as she was trying to figure her out. Albeit, for seemingly different reasons. She just wanted to see if Vanessa could make her feel something. And now she's of course willing to return the favor. Her guard goes back up, her arms held haphazardly in front of her in what looks more like some kind of modeling pose than a block, and then she starts to dance her way toward the boxer before hopping up off the ground and flipping forward, attempting to sit herself down right atop Vanessa's toned shoulders and go for what one can only guess is some kind of unorthodox throw.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa blocks Shermie's Spiral.
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Vanessa 0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0 Shermie
Feisty. That's one way of putting it. Especially in Vanessa's case.
Scathingly acerbic, distressingly smartmouthed-- these, too, are phrases that come up often. Is it any wonder the team she's on is considering a name like 'Vitriol' for shits and giggles? That, however, is very much beside the point. At the immediate moment, the redhead's world is swallowed up by two things: a) pain, b) the junction of another woman's thighs. Let's just say this is one thing that Does Not Sit Well, no matter how hard she tries to parse it. The flailing that happens is bordering on hilarity, but the crowd? The crowd -loves- it. The jeers and howls that comes from that single move alone gets all -manner- of commentary, though there's a few 'awwwws' as the boxer's arms come up to visibly -pry- the woman off of her, the hold that she was put in causing her shoulders to ache plainly from the sudden weight that was there.
And then? Indignance.
"What the -fuck- was that?!" is shouted, the poor thing bristling quite noticably. "That a -come on- or an attack?!" The former would just be... distressing. "If you're gonna attack me, how about we try making it look like something -other- than straight out of the VIP lounge of a strip club? I don't know where -your- head is, but -mine- sure as shit ain't goin' back there anytime soon." While she could drive the indignance home, the boxer is more intent on making sure she doesn't get caught off-guard, her eyes narrowed as she appraises her opponent. No sense in being unprepared-- though it might come as a mild surprise that she's failing to move.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa focuses on her next action.
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Vanessa 0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0 Shermie
Those exact terms did cross Shermie's mind, but the problem with her using either of them os that they don't exactly have any sexual connotations. Feisty does. And on that same line, the girl of course chooses her attacks the same way she chooses her words. Whatever seems sexy to her at the moment. And if you think the crowd is disappointed that her attempt at sitting on the redhead's face was foiled, take a the French girl's lips! They're pouting out just about as far as they'll go as she reluctantly glides back off of Vanessa's shoulders and touches the heels of her boots down to the arena floor once more, unfulfilled. "That was a lot of nothing is what it was! You didn't let me finish! And don't even give me that! This is -no- -holds- -barred-! Now get back over here and take it like the dyke you dress yourself as!"
Then, it's up she goes once more, though this time it's more /floating/ up than hopping. It just doesn't look normal, especially not in that pose, with her legs bent at the knees so that her feet are clearly pressed up against her plush rear end and her hands are once more up above her head. If her knees happen to make contact with the boxer's head where they're aimed though... well, it's time for more of that place she just said she didn't want to go again. And it'll be a much tighter squeeze too.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa counters Clutch from Shermie with Parrying Puncher.
- Power hit! -
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Vanessa 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Shermie
Now... Vanessa could be extremely mean about this. Especially after that dyke comment.
Instead... well. Let's just say she wrestles with her conscience on this one. She's taken enough crotch shots that she knows -damn well- how much they hurt, and doing it to another woman just seems, uh... well... uh... -dammit-. She's tempted. OH so tempted. But a split second of temptation is not enough to stay her hand from its trajectory. Stepping to the side just enough to clear herself of any possible harm, her arm swings around to land in the dead center of the other woman's abdomen, forcing her plainly to the ground in a -powerful- strike.
"Sit... the fuck... -down-!" she snaps at her now-felled opponent, though the fight is -far- from over. If anything, there's a good chance this could turn on her at any second, but for now? For now she's riding high on her own ability to stave off another chance encounter with another lady's unmentionables. "And, thanks, but 'conservative attire' does not a dyke make. I may not be able to suck the chrome off a trailer hitch like -you- can, but last I checked, that wasn't a gage for someone's preference. Now-- care to step out of fantasy land and actually -hit me-, or are we gonna keep playing these games 'til you're plastered all over the arena floor?"
Regardless of where the fist went, it seems almost like the crowd felt that one more than Shermie herself did. She winces and gets the wind knocked out of her of course, and it takes her a good moment before she can get back to her feet, but she doesn't groan like the people of the audience do. It's just this overwhelming crescendo of "OOOOooooo... " But Shermie just doesn't seem very discouraged by it. Once she's no longer reeling, the shag-haired girl just waves a hand. "Whatever, whatever. It's more just plain butch than conservative, but call it what you like. I don't really care what your preference is. This is really how I fight, and if it's a problem for you, which it only seems to be on principle, I might add, TOUGH. It might not be working at all, but it's what I do, and it's what my fans come to see me do. This isn't my job, I do it for fun, and I'm not going to let you tell me how to do it! Yashiro told me that this was the way, and damned if I 'm going to make him a liar!"
There's no need for her to get up from where she sees things at the current moment. There won't be another attempt at going after Vanessa's head. She's after the legs this go-around. Her own come scissoring out to catch the redhead's own at rather surprising range, and should they get any kind of a lock, the fashion designer has plans to flip the boxer up over her head with them and then roll back onto her to grab her up and take her into a suplex.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa dodges Shermie's Shermie Whip.
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Vanessa 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Shermie
It's just not Shermie's night, apparently. With Vanessa not only enraged to the point of being Right The Fuck On Her Game, she's also as attuned as she can possibly be to any oncoming assaults that are coming in her direction. The only thing that strikes her, really, is that -one name-. Which... okay. That sets her into an out and out barrage of laughter, the redhead in absolute stitches over the mention of Yashiro, something that throws her off more than it should. It's all coming together! Since there was no announcer that brought them both into this, the name utterly eluded to Ikari affiliate, but now?
"You're -Shermie-?!" she says, letting loose more gales of laughter, either of her hands going down to prop herself up on her thighs, her momentum paused utterly by the uncontrollable mirth that's seized her. "It all makes sense now! -You're- responsible for that poor shit's inability to get the hell out've the 80's! And -you-!" Yet -more- laughter. "Good -lord- -- talk about a fashion -don't-. If -he's- regressed in style, you're straight outta some kinda drugged-up James Bond flick. -Look- at you! Do the prices go up the more outrageous you wear your hair, or is this a new trend? If it is, drop it."
And... you guessed it. More laughter. SO much that she's practically leaving herself wide open, her snickering making it impossible to launch another attack at the immediate moment. It's not a trick, that's for damn sure-- she's so wrapped up in her partially-alcohol-induced merriment that the notion fo striking is well beyond her.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa takes no action.
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Vanessa 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Shermie
That hair, it's primped and set back into place after Shermie flops herself right back over onto the opposite hip, with Vanessa -not- in tow. And then she glides back up to her feet and dusts herself off without a word. Nothing but a smile there plastered to her glossy, painted lips. It's like, you just can't make this woman angry. Not even by insulting her boytoy, or even her fashion sense. Though she's not Benimaru for chrissakes. Maybe it shouldn't be a big deal to her at all. It's only her livelihood. "Yeah, you know? No one seems to like it at all! I should change my whole wardrobe!" she chirps, all happy-like. And then she turns to the crowd, raising a hand to them and then sweeping it down to the top button of the little blazer that makes up half of her dress. The button is undone, and her bust comes spilling forward, the lower part of it bouncing down against the remaining few buttons and just threatening to pop them right off and leave her to the zero support of the purple leotard beneath the pink blazer. To make things worse, or better, depending on your perspective, the girl then goes so far as to -lean forward- and put herself on display for the part of the crowd lucky enough to be facing her, and one hand goes to her hip while the other stays held in front of her as a perch for her sizable breasts. When this gets the insane cheers the woman is looking for, she stops her posing and turns at the hip to look back at Vanessa over her shoulder. "Huh. I guess not then. You can keep your pants, and your stupid little tie and keep calling them fashionable. I'm going to stick to what I designed with my own two hands. Not what I ordered from IKEA! I'd much rather show off my tits and my sexy legs." Grin.
COMBATSYS: Shermie focuses on her next action.
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Vanessa 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Shermie
Well. This really is the show from the VIP lounge of a strip club.
Vanessa's laughter fades considerably as she watches the spectacle, that 'audible blink' thing coming back into the foreground as she observes the other woman bemusedly. Ka-blink. Kaaaa-blink. Holy... everloving...
"..."
That's about all she's got to say about it for the time being. Of course, the crowd -is- eating it up-- to the point where Vanessa, herself, is getting shouted at. Things like 'Your turn, Red!' among other lecherous phrases that are hitting the air, causing her to set her jaw in a noticable display of tension.
Well, then.
"Considering that's all you've got to go on," the boxer replies acidicly, though the acerbic smile is still plastered over her features, "I shouldn't be surprised that you see it fit to grandstand. I mean, hell-- you've got less between your ears than that walking behemoth you call a boyfriend. Iori was right; you two're just as ridiculous as you look."
Alright. No more talk. No more laughter. The boxer is back in action and just as quick to strike out against the other woman-- -this- time, the assault is much more poignant than anything she's levelled thus far, and while it's -slower-... it's no less effective than the others.
COMBATSYS: Shermie blocks Vanessa's Puncher Weaving.
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Vanessa 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1 Shermie
"...'all I've got to go on.' You act as if it can't get a girl -every- -thing- -she- /wants/. And before you chime in, no, I don't want respect. I've got two important boys that I'd give the world for, and that's all that matters. You're so bitter, I'll bet you've got no one. I feel sorry for you. Doubly so if you disgrace yourself by hanging around with that Yagami bastard. That's just sad. He'll kill you, you know. He won't even so much as blink after doing it. He'll just laugh that maniacal laugh of his and then walk away with his hands in his pockets." A shake of her head, and then one arm comes up, bent at the elbow with her forearm held just there under her breasts, braced at the wrist as she maneuvers to take each of Vanessa's strikes against it, actually cushioning more with her chest than the bone in her arm. The force all just passes right through that arm in fact and causes her chest to jiggle almost liquidly. "You know, actually, why should I even give a damn about you? You're no better than him, and you've got red hair and almost the same fucking haircut to boot. Lashing out at everyone, just like him. It's not my fault the gods gave you something to bitch about. Why don't you get the hell out of my face and just fight, huh? I'm tired of hearing your drunken insults. You're not funny at all Just shut that jealous trap of yours."
At that point, a hand comes out, and it looks like she's going to attempt to violently shove Vanessa backward onto her ass, like this is just some episode of Jerry and that's going to be -something else-, but she's really just thrusting her hand out so quick and forceful like that so she can grab on and pull herself up into a handstand, one that lasts all of a split-second. After that, she tries to get down around behind the boxer and lock her arms around her middle, grabbing on and holding tight to pull the other girl back into a series of suplexes almost too quick to be expected from a girl that should by all rights have trouble holding up her own chest without backpains. "Loosen up, party girl!"
COMBATSYS: Vanessa blocks Shermie's Shermie Carnival.
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Vanessa 0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0 Shermie
It's a catfight now.
It's not even -funny- how much Vanessa just wants to claw into the other woman like nothing else. Forsake all pretense of style and just go to town on every visibly fetching asset the french bitch's got. The more she talks, the more the boxer bristles. She -shouldn't-, really-- all told, this is stuff that should just roll off her back. But this is shit the people in the stands can hear-- and more to the point, shit that they're parroting back. The moment she's about to respond with something horribly scathing, however, the quick motions from the other woman are enough to stay her voice, the ability to get out of the way clearly obscured as she's seized around her midsection and thrown towards the ground. -Thankfully-...
There's some reprieve in this. She manages to contort her frame -just- enough to clear her from any major damage that comes her way, but she's still dizzied from the hit that she takes, an audible grunt coming from her the moment that she impacts with the ground. Helpless to the faint dizziness that comes in time with the attack that's taken place, she's nonetheless quick to roll to her feet, her expression darkening once more.
"Jealous of what, again?" she demures, her tone a low growl. "Your incessant nattering or the fact that all your brainpower's gone straight to your tits? Gimme a fuckin' break-- you're -useless-. Keep it up, sweetheart-- maybe I'll even give you a free shot if you keep doin' -this- badly. All this talk and you're -still- just as much've a two-bit combatent as that pathetic excuse for a fuckbuddy. Hope he's better in bed than he is in the ring; 'cause lemme tell you, -that- boy's got less finesse and power than -you- do." Let's... just not mention the fact that Vanessa actually -lost- that one, shall we? In the meantime... we'll go right along with the next in the repitoir.
In this case, it's another out and out uppercut. With the distance once again closed by a quick sprint, the redhead delivers a -fierce- uppercut, though this one is aimed, strangely, at the frenchwoman's lower abdomen. What, she planning on spaying her from the outside? Almost looks like it. But then, she knows how much that -hurts-. If she gives the bitch cramps for a straight week, she'll be happy.
COMBATSYS: Shermie dodges Vanessa's Dash Puncher.
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Vanessa 0/-------/=======|-------\-------\0 Shermie
The french girl clicks her tongue and gives a little flip of her hair upon letting go and rolling away from Vanessa in similar fashion, to the opposite side. The flick of her wrist sends a long ponytail back over her shoulder to join its twin, and then she shakes her head several times as she takes the time to dance out of the way of Vanessa's retaliatory strike. And she /saw/ the power on that one. Holy fuck. "So cold. So very cold. You really hate me, don't you? I may be useless -against- you, but look at you. You're built for this. You were trained for this. I wasn't. I'm here to make the ones I care about happy, to make myself happy. You're just here to bitch and talk down at people. Hit them as hard as you can.And oh, you must not have heard me. I said ...YOU'RE LONELY, AREN'T YOU?! STOP TAKING IT OUT ON ME JUST BECAUSE YOU KNOW I'M NOT!" She then tones her voice back down before adding, "Seriously. Calm the fuck down. Mother of god, woman. It's just a fight, nothing personal. And I won't even care if you want to /make/ it personal. I'll just giggle. So /that's/ what's useless. You getting all riled up. -I- -don't- -CARE-!" And then, this is all punctuated by Shermie's attempt at a nice big clothesline to the back of the redhead's neck. She leans forward, dashes to close the distance between them, then does a little turn to whip herself around at the last second to try and strike at the girl's back like that. Should it succeed and knock the boxer forward at all, the keyboardist will crunch down on Vanessa's spine with her heavy knees.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa counters Shermie Shoot from Shermie with Parrying Puncher.
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Vanessa 1/------=/=======|==-----\-------\0 Shermie
Wait! Hold on! Let's see...
Whipping around just as the other woman comes in to strike her, Vanessa's anger has reached a breaking point. The clothesline that's attempted is ducked under, and her fist snaps out to collide heavilly with the unawakened Orochi Queen's gut, her voice coming out of her in a brief, if not resonant shout. Shermie's right in one regard-- the former housewife -is- getting more riled up than she needs to be. Far more than she should've allowed herself, but it's there, a tangiable force. Something about fighting when drunk that completely destroys any inhibitions, any walls...
Straightening once the blow is landed, the seething boxer resumes her posture, staring straight at the frenchwoman's hidden eyes. The fringe of hair that obscures them is effective in one sense-- it renders her unable to the woman's own emotions as well as she'd like.
"So what if you're right?" she says, lowly, her tone oddly sobered, if not strangely personal. "So what if the assessment is true? I do what I do, you do what you do-- call it being natural enemies-- call it modus operandi. I shit-talk, you slut-talk. Alpha female syndrome. You learn to live with it." The more she talks, the more the words are snarled through gritted teeth, not unlike the analogy just given. Alpha females, displaying all manner of lupine mannerisms. And people wonder why expressions are sometimes referred to as 'wolfish.'
"And trust me, sweetheart," she says, some of the cocky edge, alongside that sardonic halfsmile, casting aside all manner of seriousness as she continues with, "If I hated you, you'd damn well know it."
Shermie laughs even that off, because hey, if she were in the audience and saw such a classic reversal as that, she'd be rolling in the aisles. Pointing and cackling Owfux. The woman brings the arm that was going for the clothesline back in to hold her busted diaphragm and stomps her foot a few times, starting to limp away to try and walk it off, lie to her body and act like everything's cool. "Y- yeah, whatever... Long as we both understand it's all just trash-talk. And seriously, all told, I kinda like your outfit. It was more your damn cut arms that made me want to say that. But /any/way... " *zoom!* She's off like a rocket, toward the stairs Vanessa used to enter the arena. And when she reaches them she uses the railing at the sides of them to help boost her up to the top of the arena wall. Rather than leap off of it onto Vanessa like some crazed Luchadore, she dives into the stands and snatches a beer bottle off of some guy that seems more than happy to give it up, and then sends it sailing down at the boxer.
COMBATSYS: Shermie successfully hits Vanessa with Thrown Object.
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Vanessa 1/------=/=======|==-----\-------\0 Shermie
DONK.
Talk about comical.
While the beer bottle didn't exactly cause a -lot- of pain, Vanessa finds herself pitched backwards by the hit to her head with a just as audible *thud* of her frame hitting the canvas, the smack of the object hitting her straight between the eyes doing more than enough to dizzy her considerably. Now, it's about -quality-, not quantity. And the direct nature of that? It's more than enough to leave her blinking a couple times.
Birdies? How cute!
"Holy..."
She smells beer. -Spilled- beer. That's... like... treason, or something. "...Dammit, woman!" she calls out, sitting up abruptly with an accusatory gaze, though it's... strangely lighthearted, actually. Seems those last words exchanged turned this away from catfight and more towards... god only knows what. "YOu can just go around -wasting hooch-! Sure, it's only a buckfifty and it's about as good as horsepiss, but come -on-! A beer's a beer! Now quit trying to be a fuckin' superhero and get your bouncy ass back down here!"
Not that she expects her to comply. In fact! Vanessa is quick to rush in, -throw- herself against the arena wall and make a hasty snatching motion to seize hold of the other woman's leg--
COMBATSYS: Shermie blocks Vanessa's Medium Throw.
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Vanessa 1/-----==/=======|===----\-------\0 Shermie
Alright, so. That didn't go as planned. With whatever motions Shermie makes, it throws Vanessa off balance just enough that while she manages to gain some -meager- purchase to actually heft the frenchwoman through the railing-- she's the one who provides coushining on the way back down as she's none-too-gracefully -landed on-. The *OOF* should make the turnabout obvious enough. But at least she did what she set out to! Just... let her breathe for a moment, here.
Shermie throws her arms up as if to say 'it's good!' and turns to the crowd. She's not quite stupid enough to keep her back turned to Vanessa for long without a /damn/ good reason, even if she thinks she's stunned, but she had a good reason! Weapons! Her eyes shift from side to side behind the shroud of thick bangs that covers them, and then she realizes the kind of thing she's looking for is right in front of her. A lawn chair! The problem of course, there's some fat bastard sitting in it. When Vanessa gets hold of the fashion designer's smooth ankle, Shermie's hands are already latched onto the arms of the chair. The only thing that really keeps her from being dragged down immediately is his tremendous ass. -But-, the French girl eventually dumps him out of it to flop like a beached whale onto the ground while she herself finally gets yanked back down to the arena, with the chair clutched to her like it's a lifejacket. Lucky for Vanessa, this keeps her from getting those tits bigger than her head planted directly against her own chest. That would be awkward, wouldn't it? Instead, the canvas of the seat of the chair shields the both of them.from body to body contact for the most part.
Rolling to her feet and taking a good few steps back from the boxing girl, Shermie folds the chair up and checks it down against the ground like she thinks it's a /steel/ chair, when it's really just four aluminum pipes, but hey! If she swings it right, and aims for the head! Which she now does... *whiff*
COMBATSYS: Vanessa blocks Shermie's Random Weapon.
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Vanessa 1/-----==/=======|===----\-------\0 Shermie
This is getting ridiculous. Funny! But ridiculous.
Nonetheless, there's a *CLANG* at Vanessa's hands meet against the aluminum of the lawn chair, the entire escapade involving said Fat Bastard utterly lost to her in the dizziness she made it a point to fight off. Honestly, it would've been pretty funny if she'd just beaned herself off the arena wall, but who's counting? She practically did with all that struggling. Right -now-, she's thankful she got back to her feet in time to catch the attack, though...
...that's around the time it starts to sting.
"OW!" is blurted out, either of her hands shaking rapidly as she hisses a breath through her teeth. "Motherfucking-sonofabitch- that -HURT-!" Well. Duh. Still, she's tempted to take off her gloves and make sure she didn't massively harm anything with that block-- for the time being? ...Well. Two can play at this game. But. There's a problem-- beyond vaulting the arena wall again and potentially KOing -herself-...
Ah, hell with it. No better projectile than herself, right?
In this case, Vanessa's only intention is to bring the other woman to the floor regardless of how she has to do it. And in this case? It's an all-out superman-style tackle that's meant to take hold of the other woman's midsection and drag her down towards the floor-- once -there-, she'll be pinned just as quickly. Should it land, there's more than enough cheering from the crowd that goes along the lines of HotLezboAction being next up on the To Do list. Should it whiff? Well. The boxer goes sailing, and skidding, in a none-too-comfortable fashion.
COMBATSYS: Shermie interrupts Medium Throw from Vanessa with Front Flash.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Vanessa 1/---====/=======|====---\-------\0 Shermie
Ah, but there's not quite any skidding to be done if there's someone catching and holding you up off the floor. Shermie is actually the one that does all the skidding, her designer boots getting almost no traction against on the slate tiles blow her. And of course, by allowing for this Vanessa gave up her chance at walking away from this without some kind of awkward contact. The thing the chair saved her from not but a minute ago, touching the eccentric French girl front to front, it seems like it was only delayed. Her breasts are smashed up against Vanessa's for what seems like way too long, and then Vanessa's head is suddenly colliding with the arena wall as Shermie German Suplexes her into it. She of course slips at the last moment because of those damn boots of hers and takes a fairly bad spill herself, but she's still kicking, and giggling. And the crowd is going nuts not because it was a massive hit or anything, but because they at least a second of the kind of thing they were hoping to see. Lezzy hugs are just as good as loss of clothing!
Apparently!
As is, Vanessa's expression is priceless. The moment she's mashed up against Shermie is the moment her eyebrows practically shoot up into her hairline, and her eyes go horrifically wide. Really, you'd think the contact absolutely terrified her, but! Here's a tip: being caught off-guard is a sure way to get that kind of reaction, though it -is- fed into by the out-and-out squeeze that's put into it. Nevermind the pain of being thrust against the arena wall in the first place; that, friends, isn't a good feeling.
However, it reminds her, in the daze that's created soon after, that it's -really- time to stop pussyfooting around with this. She's not forgotten her anger, though she's making it a point not to be overburdened by it. A little -outraged-, yes, but, come now...
Staggering to her feet, the boxer just... "...You know," she says, still looking incredulous, "For all the shit slung around, this's gotta be the most bizarre fight I've had since I got here." Was that a compliment? Maybe. Who knows? "One for the record books, at least. Sad to say... s'time to bring this to a close." In which case... she does. Sort of. If it whiffs, -then- she'll be mad. If it doesn't? It'll, to some degree, bring this little bout to an abrupt end.
COMBATSYS: Shermie dodges Vanessa's Champion Puncher.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Vanessa 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Shermie
Holy EVERYLOVING CHRIST THAT WAS NOT COOL.
Instead of actually hitting Shermie, which is her intention, Vanessa finds the initial punch sailing merrily through the air at nothing in particular. In which case, she doesn't continue-- at least, not in any conventional sense. Oh, no. She whips around, and starts beating the -shit- out of the arena wall, shouting a myriad of curses that'd make a sailor turn bright red. Seems the frenchwoman's done a whiz-bang job if igniting her temper again, as should be made obvious by the insanely loud grousing that's taking place.
Even the audience looks impressed. The wall wins, of course, but at least the redhead got that out.
"Jesus -christ-!" is the ammended phrase. "Sit -goddamn still- so I can go home and forget I ever decided to come here in the first place!"
"No wayyyyy! You're not gonna make me say it, are you?" is asked while the girl is still sliding herself far to the side of the heavy punch, her feet just seeming to glide like they did when she dashed in for the clothesline. Sometimes, her feet just don't need to move. And while Vanessa is still busy taking her frustrations out on the wall, Shermie pushes off of it to slide back into the middle of the arena and gesture to the crowd dramatically. "I'm not gonna have to tell her, am I?" she shouts. And the crowd yells back, with a resounding and unanimous, "SHE CAN GO ALL NIGHT!" And then she goes and turns around and flexes. Ohh she's gonna get hurt. And if so? Totally worth it now.
COMBATSYS: Shermie focuses on her next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Vanessa 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Shermie
Crowdpleasing. Pfffsh. Still something Vanessa isn't about to be privy to.
However, the fact is that she's currently being -upstaged- to some capacity. The innuendo, of course, isn't lost on her, nor is the frenchwoman's familiarity with the crowd at hand-- who are more than happy to continue nattering on at the tops of their lungs about how the fight -should- progress.
Right now, though... it's all about landing a goddamn hit of -some kind-. Shermie can't stay lucky forever, and the intended attack will all but assure some silence. At least, that's the -hope-. Gritting her teeth with an audible snort of frustration, the thirty-something ex-housewife is being reduced to teenager levels of reactionary conduct. She blames the alcohol. But come on-- these are conditions she's -reall- not used to. What comes -next-...
Is repetition. In a sense. It's the same general approach, the same overall hit that lashes out first to catch the woman off-guard-- and then? Then, it turns into an out-and-out -rain- of blows, one after another after another, knocking the pink-clad 'lady's head back and forth between them while still maintaining forwards momentum. Each hit is punctuated with gutteral issuances of exertion, not unlike growls, but hey, there you have it. You've got her snorting at snarling. Maybe she and Iori really -were- meant to to team up with one another.
COMBATSYS: Shermie just-defends Vanessa's Machine Gun Puncher!
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Vanessa 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Shermie
"Hey, hey! I'm telling you, mimicking that guy isn't going to get you anywhere! Look at you!" Shermie's dainty little hands, delicate and feminine as they are, actually come up and *catch* every one of Vanessa's rapid punches, and on the last couple she squeezes down and shoves both fists back at the angry widowed housewife with some kind of inhuman strength that almost makes a person think she might've been holding back all this time. This is technically true! But not really. If she knew how to *stop* holding back she would have already done so. "I'm serious. Hanging out with Iori Yagami isn't just dangerous, it'll ruin you. I don't think I want to see him maul you and leave you in some gutter somewhere. And god! Mimicking him like that just- That's almost starting to piss me off! You're not doing it on purpose now, are you? I'm just gonna blame it on the alcohol or maybe the beer bottle to the head and leave it at that. But! If you want me to go down? ...You're doing it first!" And now it's time for Shermie's favorite ride, the shoulder ride. There's crazy schoolgirl giggling, and it comes packaged with what she hopes with be her supple and yet powerful thighs wrapping around the boxer girl's head, and one hand up in the air like she's some kind of cowgirl.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa blocks Shermie's Spiral.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Vanessa 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Shermie
"I'm -not- mimicking hi--"
That, ladies and gentlemen, is the sound of an abrupt rebuttal being staved off, once again, by Unmentionables. That's the -second time tonight-, on top of everything else, and it's pretty damn clear it's the one thing out of this entire bout that Vanessa hates the -most-. Once -again-, she doesn't hesitate for a second to push the frenchwoman's thighs -away- from her, doing her level best to stay as -far- away from another bout like that if she can help it.
"-Christ-!" is spat out, once again. "For the love of -god-, the -least- you could do is change the fucking -angle- on that!" for real, though-- being Up Close And Personal isn't in her contract. "And for the last time, I'm -not- mimicking him. -God- -- I just want this -over with-! And -you-! For -fuck's sake-, calling -me- a dyke when that's the -second time- you've tried pulling that off?" Yes, yes. Technicality. It's a move, it's what Shermie -does-, but...
-Gah-!
Inhuman strength and resilience of -not-, this -has- to end fast. For the sake of her sanity, anyway. Silliness from earlier forgotten, the redhead makes another attempt at an attack, -this- time wheeling around in such a way that the -back- of her fist comes down to slam against the frenchwoman's face, a sharp arc of energy cutting through the air as her other fist comes in to join the other, aiming for the dead center of Shermie's forehead in the process. Here's hoping, anyway.
COMBATSYS: Shermie dodges Vanessa's Forbidden Eagle.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Vanessa 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Shermie
"What do want me to do, put my ass in your face instead? I'm not really into that. Isn't that Yuri's thing or something? And it's the *third*, third! But whatever! I'll aim lower! Third time wasn't a charm so I'll give it up, promise! <3" And then, after having been shoved off and clicking back onto the tiling of the arena floor with the heavy heels of her boots, she does a little stretch, and it somehow limbers her up just enough to be able to drop herself the hell out of the way of those slicing energy arcs the redhead's fists produce without pulling any muscles. While in this position, she reaches out just under the fading chi attack and tries to scissor her legs onto Vanessa's to pull her over her head with them.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > /// ]
Vanessa 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Shermie
That... tears it. Really, it does.
And -finally-, it seems as though Vanessa is privy to a stroke of luck. Without hesitation, using the momentum she's already got going for her in the initial attack that's attempted, she doesn't even come -close- to letting the hit land. Instead, she takes hold of the frenchwoman's ankle with both hands and, quite literally, swings her to impact with the ground. SHe doesn't do throws, usually, but in this case, there was no other choice-- she works with what she's given, and if hauling off and -tossing- the frenchwoman is what she has to do, she does it.
Nevermind that she feels like she pulled a muscle in her goddamn arm trying to pull -that- one off.
"Christ almighty," she breathes, rubbing either of her shoulders as the both of them see it fit to flare up with random spasms. Ouch. -Ouch-. "You gonna -stay- down this time, or am I gonna have to throw you straight into the open arms of your adoring fans?"
Yep, that's definitely it for Shermie. But you know, things like the all-too-obvious fact /Shermie/ /bounces/ should be taken into account in matter such as this. As soon as Vanessa up and swings her into the ground and lets loose? One of the woman's voluptuous hips smacks into the tile at just the right angle to make her bounce right back up to a standing position, propped back up against the arena wall. Right next to her bent-ass lawn chair she got from the fat guy in the cheap seats! So what does she do? She kicks it up with the tip of her boot and catches it before tossing it at the boxer girl like some kind of oversized boomerang. "I think you're gonna have to toss me up there!" Nevermind that she can't stay standing on her own any longer without the help of this wall plz. It helps this illusion that she doesn't look tired in the slightest though! Her legs just hurt!
COMBATSYS: Shermie can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\ <
Vanessa 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Vanessa dodges Shermie's Thrown Object.
[ \\\\\\\\\\ <
Vanessa 0/-------/=======|
And that's that.
While Vanessa's tempted to start laughing at the -ricochet- the other woman's got going for her, she, wisely, choses against it. Instead, she makes it a point to get the hell out've the way of the flying object, sidestepping it with relative ease though there's an audible *whiff* of air as it sails past her-- something that -threatens- to get her side, but, thankfully, doesn't. Standing where she is, however, she assesses the frenchwoman's positioning, her eyebrows raised somewhat as her lips are tugged into a broad, unrelenting smirk.
"Much as it'd be -fun-," she says, "I think I've wasted enough time here tonight. S'ides... given what those slobbering idiots might do to you if I -do- chuck you up there?" ... "Beyond you getting your kicks out've it, even -I'm- not that mean. You fought pretty damn well-- less dirty than your boyfriend, relatively speaking. And... for the record?"
Beat.
"Shit-talk is shit-talk. I may've been pissed to shit about your glomming my damn head with your thighs, but I sure as hell don't take my grudges outside the ring unless it's for a damn good reason. Whatever's between you two and Iori is your business-- I honestly don't care if that asshole gets dumped in the river in the next week with his pants 'round his ankles. Just tell your boy this: leave me out of it. I don't want any part in the fued you guys've got going."
COMBATSYS: Vanessa has ended the fight here.
Shermie grins a little bit as she stares back at Vanessa through all that hair, her smallish nose scrunching up as she hears the woman admit that she can see Shermie's done now. The French girl gives a shrug, and then starts to slide down along the wall to slump in front of it, legs stretched out in front of her as she finally stops to take a few breaths and let her exhaustion catch up to her. After a moment of resting, Shermie gives a little half-salute with one hand and then raises her hand to let the officials know for certain she's done without them having to send someone over to check, and Vanessa is announced the winner by whatever lazy bastard wasn't here at the start of the match to start things "Fine with me. I'll tell him. And since you've already figured out he lets me dress him, you should be able to believe wholeheartedly that if I tell him he'll listen. Au revoir now. o/`" And, she'll make them /carry/ her out of here.
Log created by Vanessa, and last modified on 08:44:48 05/23/2005.