Description: Another instance of Vanessa making a wager on a fight-- namely, 'I win, you buy drinks, you win, I buy drinks.' This in mind, Vanessa beats the christ out of King.
It's honestly amazing how dead it is in here. One would think that, on a Saturday evening, any restaurant in the city would be hopping, but not the Pao Pao Cafe. Though unmentioned in news reports, the attack on the owner has gotten around via workd of mouth, and the fear of Freeman has started to keep some of the more twitchy customer base out of the restaurant. Unfortunately, this makes up a good deal of the student population's parents. A whopping four couples are in the Pao Pao, as well as a group of six teenage guys whom have taken residence in a large back table, rolling dice and shiffling papers and books while they eat. King nromally wouldn't allow the activity, but the place needs the business. Let the geeks lie.
King, herself, is at the bar, sitting on one of the stools with her back propped against the bar rail. She sips deliacately at a goblet of a fine meritage, paying really very little attention to the flavours and, really, very little attention to anything else going on in the bar. Her face has finally begun to heal from the finger-slashing she got from the psycho, and barely looks evident anymore, and she actively hopes the paranoia surrounding her will disappear along with it. "Chrissakes," she mutters, shaking her head and setting the goblet down. "I don't think we've been this barren since... well... ever." The bartender behind her nods thoughtfully, leaning on the bartop on both of her elbows.
"Well, you know," she says, "every business has it's ups and downs."
King pffts. "Of course I know, Sasha," she retorts, waving a hand dismissively. "But still."
If the local press is expecting to breed fear in certain individuals-- this specific case being Vanessa-- they're going to have to try a lot harder. Nuclear warheads, terrorists, mutagenic waste... now, -those- might be reasons to turn tail and walk the other direction. However! An emo serial killer who's only use to her is a punching bag? Get real. There's -beer- here, and that's the -real- attention-getter.
Making her way into the Cafe' with a low whistle, the redhead can't help but be nonplussed at the utter -lack- of patronage, herself. Casting a glance at her surroundings, she moves over towards the bar, seating herself alongside King. Takes her a moment, but the other woman -is- eventually granted some recognition-- and, at that, a sympathetic smile.
"Christ, what're those guys doing, trying to kill your customer base so you'll think of selling faster?" she asks, remembering their little chat at the DMV-- the first and only time she's had a run-in with the blonde. "If so, consider me your one-day savior-- if those kegs're full, they'll be empty by the time I'm gone. With the lineup we've got going for the tournaments? I'll need as much fuel as I can get. Bartender!" her fingers tap lightly against the bartop, her tone still oddly jovial for the aforementioned commentary, "Gimme a few rounds've scotch if you've got 'em. If not? Biggest mug've beer you can manage."
"Good to see you too, Vanessa," King says with a slight grin. Spinning a bit in her seat, she looks over at Sasha and waves her off from her current direction, which is heading for the house scotch. Vanessa may have not declared her prefernece, but she doesn't need the cheap stuff, now does she? Cocking her hand back and then pointing up, she indicates the top shelf of the liquor display.
Sasha sighs. "Whatever you 'motion', boss," she mumbles, wheeling over the tracked ladder to help her climb up and snag a stocky bottle of imported scotch. Once down again, Sasha sets three shotglasses in front of the redhead, quickly filling all three to the brim with the amber liquid.
Meanwhile, the bouncer looks to the boxer and says, "So. What's the gen on the tourney? You and your team find yourself in some puggled schedule made by some sadist?" A brief sigh and a look of resignation crosses the blonde's face as she continues, "I wasn't able to clear my schedule up in time to get in on the punch up, unfortunately. So I'll be sitting sidelines this time around."
Sasha puts the bottle on the back counter, then waits a moment before stepping forward. "'Scuse... did you want a beer as well?" she asks, leaning in towards Vanessa. "We've got a decent selection on tap."
"Later," Vanessa tells the bartender before answering King's own queries. "You know the proverbs-- Beer before liquor..." She grins. "Throw in some Johnnie Walker Black if you've got it. A little pricey, if I'm willing to throw down a little extra." Much as she's got car payments and whatnot... well. You know how it goes. Life insurance being what it is, and her husband fitting into that category of middle class professional... she's got funds to burn, especially after getting some rather nice earnings from SNF.
"Aaanyway," she says, turning back towards King, "How's -this- for sadistic? They've got me, Iori, Ash an Ramon up against-- wait for it-- Mr. Big, Yamazaki, Billy Kane and Geese Howard his own self. If those are shit-nasty odds, I don't know -what- is." That said, she picks up one of the shotglasses, pounding it back in due time. Waiting for the burn along her throat to subside, she *ehms* lightly.
"Shitty deal about the tournament, but with the lineup they've got?" She snorts. "Have you -seen- the roster? I mean, beyond the fact that I'm fighting a psychopath, a pervert, an oi boy and a megalomaniac, we've got Zen Master Ryu with his merry men, and those three old geezers lookin' to tromp on anyone who so much as looks at 'em funny. Let me tell you, hon... the odds are -crap-. We're the long shot and it's not even past the first round." She chuckles. "Now I know how those jockeys feel, the one's who're ridin' the halfbreeds in Saratoga. Those long shots that're so ill bred they'd never be able to hold their own even if they tried. We've got a -chance-, but christ. I'm gonna need a whooole lot more training to go toe to toe with the Mob Squad."
The bartender nods with a smile, and turns to retrieve the other liquor. She gets to do something besides stand around and listen to King bitch! Yay! Heading up the ladder again, she retrieves the bottle and heads back down to pour another shotglass full for Vanessa.
"Oof," King mutters, grimacing. "All four of those have a serious monk on. Not nice people, them." Suddenly she looks around suspiciously, then leans in towards the boxer, whispering, "But if you ask me, I think half of those oiks you're going to be facing are poofdahs. Kane and Big put on too much of a show, if you know what I mean."
King leans back again, lifting her goblet and taking in a mouthful. Mmm, blackberry. Spice. Little hint of chocolate. "The other two blighters are just plain bonkers," she continues. "As for the rest, I can't say it'd be the puppie's privates to be sent up against them, but you still got a chance. I mean, yeah, you'll have to bust your guts, but still." She pauses for a moment. Waitaminit. "...You said you were teaming with Yagami? How did you get that hardhead to commit to being in a team willingly? Or is he still out to have it off with Kusanagi, and figures the tourney's his only route?"
"I don't know, actually," Vanessa replies to the last, shrugging her shoulders as she raises her glass, swilling the contents before, once again, knocking back the first in the row. "Hard to believe with everything I've heard, but -he- approached -me-. Him and Ash together. Not exactly my usual fare, but I was so shitfaced by the time they walked up to me and offered that I couldn't help but say yes. I mean... I know why they asked. Ramon and I are basically cannon fodder, the ones to send out for the sake of wearing the stronger opponents down for them."
She chews on her lip a little, at that. "And much as I'd like to agree that Big and Kane are all show..." She shakes her head. "Big knocked the crap out've me the last time we fought. Sick fuck, that guy, but strong where it counts. If I'd stuck to speed, made sure I'd played keep-away, I may've had something going for me. Otherwise, I can't say it looks all that hopeful." Hmn.
"Come to think of it, though... I've never seen you fight before," she notes to the other woman, eyebrow raised. "Whatcha think it'll take to drag you into a sparring match've some kind? Nothing fancy... nothing major... though if you want some incentive, I'm sure I could place a wager."
"Bah," King says with a wave of her hand. "Cannon fodder my bum. Nobody makes it into the KoF by being simply cannon fodder. Otherwise we'd see Howard fielding his secretaries in body armor." Lifting the glass to her lips again, she drains the contents before setting the crystal back down onto the bar. She's been doing that all day. "Nevertheless, it's at least a decent setup, right? You get to beat on someone for a bit, then watch Yagami claim he hates violence as he turns some poor bugger into swiss." She pauses for a moment, then adds, "And I didn't say they were 'all show', but they certainly do seem to be always trying to prove that they're manly men. To the point of being queer as a nine bob note." Rolling her eyes upward, she raises her arm a bit and makes limp-wristed motions.
Sasha giggles from behind the bar as she pulls up the wine bottle and pours the last of it into King's glass. King turns and looks at the bottle mournfully. That was a good vintage. And now, she's out. Vanessa's last few sentences pull her away from her thoughts and into the here-and-now. "Sparring?" she says, a smile creeping on her lips as she slowly turns to the boxer again. "Hmm. Tell you what. Finish yours, I'll finish mine, and we'll head out into the lot. For a wager... How about this. You win, we'll head anywhere you want and it'll be -my- duty to get us both pissed. If I win, though, you get stuck with the tab. Sounds like a fair do?"
"Honey," Vanessa replies, her grin positively vulpine, "You read my mind. But not -only- will I pick up the tab, I'll spend it here. You guys look like you could use the profits..." ... "What's this all about, anyway? Is it those assholes trying to buy your property, or is it something else entirely?" She's heard -some- press, mind... but given that she's spent a while off in Korea, well... Heh. She's not exactly paying as much attention to local news as herjob description dictates.
"As for the rest... psh." A light scoff, followed soon thereafter by, "I'll throw my own self-pity parties, thank you -very- much." While this could be called indignant, the facetious air she takes is enough to make it obvious that she's far from serious. Knocking back the second of four, the other two poured previously still left in front of her, all but begging for consumption, she pauses to swallow. Then, "Sounds like you've at least had some dealings with Geese's motley crew, there. I know Kane and Big practically hate one another, but that's pretty much a given in any down-home syndicate from what I can tell. Still... Kane... I don't know. I can't figure that fucker out. He doesn't seem like the type to pal around with Geese'n all. Big? I won't even go -into- some of the shit that came outta his mouth. Or what he pulled in the middle of fightin' me."
Taking up the goblet again, King whirls the liquid around in the glass. "I think the word on the street's been kinda difficult for us as of late," she says, sniffing the wine. "Y'see, I had a little run-in with Southtown's own mad psychotic." She turns her face, running her fingers down the remenants of the tracks caused by Freeman's claws. "Got jumped by Freeman outside the Pao a few weeks ago. Not a good thing for those customers concerned with thier safety, or the parents of 'em." She takes a small swig of the red fluid, swirling it in her mouth for a moment. "But, yeah, I've had some dealings with the blokes. Big, especially. The wanker used to own my old place of business before he took to kidnapping underage girls and trying to convince the Sakazaki's he was 'mad pimpin'. After he had the Kyokugenryu team break their foots off in his arse, he up and disappeared like a good little brown hatter. Leaving me in the lurch, mind you. Those antics also cost me a good shirt and my dignity."
"Well, no matter," she says, pointing at the idling scotch. "You've got a few more of those lined up. Knock 'em down, and we'll see what you can do about knocking -me- down." Wink.
Vanessa's expression ... quite literally falls the moment that Freeman is mentioned. With a look on her face that's partway between a grimace and an outright sneer, the redhead throws back the second to last shot in front of her, listening to the rest of the atle, as it were. The mention of Big, of course, earns another faint look of bemusement, which turns swiftly to humor as the loss of a shirt comes about.
"Sounds like him, yeah," she says, gently. "As for Freeman.. don't get me started. Maybe that's what made me ignore the news report... too many friends of mine getting caught up with him. Asshole stole my wedding ring and made me beg to get it back... didn't try -that- again, that's for damn sure. Every single time I've run into him since I've sent him running with his tail between his legs." Not this -last- time, but we'll leave that for a later discussion, won't we?
Chuckling lightly at the mention of her last shot, she picks it up, and just as quickly throws it back, finalizing the last of the rounds for the meantime. She doesn't look -too- phased by the alcohol that's already in her system, but given the rate of consumption, it'll catch up to her while they're sparring. Which should, of course, be amusing enough on ist own. "We'll see, won't we?" she says, offering her hand to the other woman in an oddly chivalrous gesture. "From what I hear you're a kickboxer, yeah? We'll balance each other out pretty damn well."
Knocking back what little was left in her goblet, King sets the glass to the side and leans on the bar. After listening to Vanessa's tirade on Freeman, she pulls a small rock from her vest pocket, no more than an inch in diameter. "This little thing is all that saved my bum from the looney," she says, spinning the thing lightly between her fingers. "Bounced it between his eyes and he dropped." Putting the rock back in her pocket, she continues, "Good thing you got that ring back. Would hate to hear what your husband would have said to you losing that."
Obviously, King isn't in the know about some things.
Taking Vanessa's hand, King shakes it firmly. Got a good grip, she does. "Haven't really had the chance to face a straight-up boxer," she says with a grin. "Should be fun." Especially since King already has four bottles of wine running through her system at the moment. She's not showing any real change in actions, maybe a bit in demeanor. Slipping off of her stool, she bows her head a bit and extends a hand out towards the door. "After you."
Ehm. Not exactly unprecidented. But, Vanessa will spare King the faint social embarrassment of being mistaken and refrain from telling her about the whole 'husband' fiasco until later. Tempted though she may be to correct her now, she just offers a knowing grin in response to the sentiment, relinquishing her hold on the blonde's hand once she's upright. Notably, the fact that they're both showing a bit of hackneyed chivalry is amusing enough, even if it's likely to earn a quirk of a brow from the bartender. Or not, dependant.
"Age before beauty, eh?" the redhead quips, opening the door to make her way out, careful to hold it steady so that King can make her own egress. Once outside, there's a clear space in the parking lot that doesn't look like it's about to start getting a huge amount of traffic. After all, if it were going to be busy, now'd be the time. Still-- a fight in front of the Pao Pao? That could gain some business right there. "Tell you what," she says, grinning over her shoulder as she makes her way to a proper positioning. "You make the call for half-price beer if people stay and watch, and I'll bet you you'll get a pretty sizable chunk've customers as a result."
Turning to face her would-be opponent, she sloughs off her blazer, throwing it onto the hood of... you guessed it. A Camaro. -Her- Camaro, god dammit.
"It's all you, sweetheart," she says, raising her hand in the familiar 'bring it' motion. "Let's see what you've got."
COMBATSYS: Vanessa has started a fight here.
COMBATSYS: King has joined the fight here.
The bartender is used to King showing this level of chivalry, so it earns nothing more than a smile from Sasha's lips. If there was something else going on, then perhaps it'd elicit a different response.
The blonde grins as her soon-to-be opponent makes a playful jab at them both. "More like, 'guest before host'," she says with a light chuckle, following Vanessa out to the Pao Pao. Sure, the fights that have gone on outside have usually brought in business, but today... Who knows. "Shame all the patrons I have right now are underage," King says. "Otherwise, I would. As it stands, however..." She snaps into her fighting stance, fists raised. "I think the dinner show's going to be entertaining anyway."
Taking several steps away from the cars in the lot, King motions Vanessa to do the same. "I know you wouldn't want either of us to go flying into your car, so let's just step away from it. You looked long and hard for that machine after all. And, might I add, it is a nice one."
COMBATSYS: King takes no action.
"You kidding?" Vanessa replies, clearly amused. "That thing can obliterate a deer without a dent." A -little- exaggeration, but still... "It'll be juuuust fine. But you're right; movin' out've the way'd probably be a better idea. Much as I've love to be put through someone's windsheild." Heh. Such as it is. "Thanks, though; sure as hell worth the wait. But... smalltalk later, right?"
All told, she has -no- earthly idea what to expect from this woman. She's heard bits and pieces, seen some of the fights, but the both of them are, for the most part, at a loss in concerns to one another. Moves, reflexes, the ability to take hits and, more importantly, dish them out... is all pretty much up in the air. But, since when has that ever stopped everyone's favorite loudmouth?
Given all of this, it's clear that, as she assumes a stance that's common for most boxers, either of her gloved hands raised and balled into fists, she's paying rapt attention to every motion King makes, careful to study her, and take in all of the subtleties of whatever stance is offered. Saying, then, "Like I said," her smile growing, "Your move."
COMBATSYS: Vanessa focuses on her next action.
Nodding quietly, the blonde smiles. "Yeah, smalltalk in the bar later, over drinks," she says, watching the redhead move out further into the open. For a moment, there's a pause as both fighters examine one another, analyzing the other's movements. But one cannot just stand there forever... King's been called out, after all. In a flash, the Thai kickboxer's body shifts from her stance to an all-out charge. Ducking low, she hops slightly to start a sliding kick right towards the feet of the boxer, but the move is truly a feint. Her feet plant about a meter in front of Vanessa, wherein the blonde accordions, then using momentum and all the strength in her legs she can muster, she rockets herself upward with a cry, jamming her right knee towards Vanessa's chest at breakneck speed.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa blocks King's Heavy Kick.
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Vanessa 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 King
Woah, there.
The trajectory is enough to make Vanessa's heart jump until she figures out that the blow is aimed more towards her sternum than anything else. However, given howm any people have beaned her in less-than-comfortable areas, well... she doesn't put it past any of her opponents, male or female. Raising either of her arms to absorb the whole of the blow, she takes a couple quick steps back to accomidate for the heavy shock of the woman's foot against them, her teeth gritting noticably.
Alright. She's got some serious power going for her. And speed, from what the boxer can tell.
Here's hoping she makes use of it.
The second King snaps out of her attack, Vanessa uses that moment of imbalance to her favor, rushing in to deliver not one, but two swift punches to either side of the blonde's head, the manuevering she uses erring more on the side of swift than on anything else. Breaking down defenses, more or less; staggering her opponent as opposed to all-out assaulting them.
COMBATSYS: King blocks Vanessa's 1-2 Puncher.
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Vanessa 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 King
Upon landing, King gets her hands up pronto, and it makes all the difference. The sudden, quick hooks would have overwhelmed her if not for those arms. Eyes widened for a split second, the first punch is blocked with her tricep, which stings like hell; the second with the outside of her forearm, which doesn't. She's got some skill, this one... This -is- going to be fun. The closer the match, after all, the better one can become...
Being in such close quarters is not something most people try to stay in with King, for some reason. A quick grin crosses King's lips, then fades as she reaches out towards Vanessa's shoulders with alacrity, trying to get a grip on the redhead for better momentum as she closes her eyes, rocketing her head forward to meet the other woman's. Maybe that's why.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa dodges King's Strong Punch.
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Vanessa 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 King
Hoo boy. A headbutt isn't exactly something Vanessa's expecting, but it's enough. And in -this- case... it's another opportunity to use the blonde's momentum against her. Ducking down and away from the hold that's placed on her shoulder, the redhead uses her positioning to her advantage. First, to throw a brutal left hook against King's side, while her other hand snaps up to deliver a similarly sharp shot to her jawline, a bright shock of golden energy erupting in a trailing line behind her fist as a direct result.
Hit or miss, the result is the same. Unless, of course, the poor girl gets her butt whomped in an impromptu counterattack. Taking a couple quick steps backwards, she grins broadly, her head canting to the side as she says, "Not bad at all. Not many people can block or dodge that combo." The initial one, of course; this one is another matter entirely.
COMBATSYS: King fails to interrupt Forbidden Eagle from Vanessa with Trap Shot.
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Vanessa 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 King
She saw a chance. She took the chance. She didn't make it.
Eyes popping open as her head fails to make contact, she looks down just in time to see Vanessa preparing her attack. With everything she can give, she tries to whip herself back onto her hands, only to have the first punch knock her out of it and off balance. And while that second fist fails to make contact, that's not to say she got off easy, since her momentum backwards still sends her falling back and onto the back of her head. Ouch.
Standing quickly, King rubs the back of her head. "Thanks," she says, grimacing. "Guess one needs to take the priase where they can get it."
Oooo. Well, at least the energy Vanessa uses didn't blast apart the poor woman's shirt, mn? Still, it's clear, given the infusion of liquor in her system, that the boxer's feeling a bit cocky about the fact that she managed to land that particular manuever, her smile growing all the more. "Nice try, anyway," she muses, a statement that COULD be called arrogant if not for the tone of voice the redhead uses. It's all so conversational, after all.
Not to say the fight itself isn't a direct contrast to it. Rushing in once again, the scotch she's taken in finally beginning to wear her system down, Vanessa's motions aren't nearly as fast or precise as they could be. In fact, they're telegraphing what her intentions are. Which is to say, throw out a couple quick blows to both sides of King's head... should they -land-, there's a good four more fast shots to follow it up, volleying the poor woman's noggin back and forth until all six hits are taken, the last coming to slam into her jaw and, hopefully, knock her straight off her feet.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa successfully hits King with Machine Gun Puncher.
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Vanessa 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 King
Telegraphing her attack must mean something a little different to a hand fighter than a kick fighter, because King somehow doesn't manage to pull herself out of her daze quite soon enough. Perhaps the wine is affecting her faster than Vanessa's scotch... Then again, King's been drinking longer. So that also may be a factor. In any case, the blonde's head is used as a punching bag repeatedly, unil that mighty uppercut comes... Which nearly takes her off her feet, but not quite. Staggering back several steps, she manages to keep her footing and stay standing.
"Ow," she mutters, yelling at herself for her folly. "Good one." With that, she spins hard and fast, a physical manifestation of her inner being welling forth on her foot. As she hops slightly off the ground, she snaps out a kick, sending the projectile careening towards the redhead with a bellow of, "Venom STRIKE!"
COMBATSYS: King successfully hits Vanessa with Venom Strike.
- Power hit! -
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Vanessa 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 King
Venom strike indeed. Not only does that burst of energy hit Vanessa, it sends her skidding along her back against the asphalt, a sharp yelp coming from her the moment that the projectile collides with her. Winded momentarily by the impact of her back against the pavement, she rolls to her side, getting up to her feet in a decidedly staggered motion, her hand going up to her forehead as she takes a couple weaving steps forwards, a light bout of laughter issuing up from her.
"Shit, girl," she says, grinning broadly. "Had me getting cocky as hell there for a second. Won't let it happen again, though."
That in mind, she once again launches herself into an all-out assault. In a surprising blur of motion, she rushes the other woman to deliver a *SHARP* right-straight to King's face, a shout issuing up from her as the move is put into motion. Really, there's something to be said for the fact that it's difficult to even see her footwork in the midst of that sprint; but, tipsy though she may be, she hasn't lost her speed.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa successfully hits King with Puncher Vision.
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Vanessa 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\1 King
Once again, the alcohol does bad things to King's reaction times. She raises her hands to protect herself, but Vanessa's fist slips past unimpeded and takes the blonde completely off her feet. Though she falls, she still keeps enough of her wits about her to ball up, and she tumbles two full revolutions before rolling back upright. Quickly putting her hand to her jaw, she whimpers, pressing on it until a slight jarring of her face signifies that something slipped back into place. "Dammit," she says, muffled by her hand. "That hurt."
Dropping low into a crouch, King grits her teeth painfully as she once again launches herself at the other woman, only this time, she whips herself around with a shout of, "Tornado," striking out with a leaping spinning roundhouse, quickly followed by a flying back kick. "KIIICK!"
COMBATSYS: Vanessa dodges King's Tornado Kick.
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Vanessa 1/------=/=======|=======\=------\1 King
The manner in which Vanessa gets out of the way is interesting enough. Throwing herself to the ground in a swift roll to clear away from King's attack, she manages to right herself to her feet, her head suddenly proving to have Not Liked That. With her vision spinning the moment that she comes to a halt and back to her feet, she stumbles back a couple paces, blinking noticably as her balance is thrown. Well-- could be worse. She could be dizzy for an entirely -different- reason.
Steadying herself, the redhead cants her head to the side, looking towards the woman amusedly as she says, "You wanna call this here," her tone still as cocky as ever, "Or are we gonna admit that those drinks're mine?" Taunting the blonde? More than likely. At least, that's the intent.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa focuses on her next action.
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Vanessa 1/------=/=======|=======\=------\1 King
All this twisting and kicking and getting punched is admittedly getting very old. Even as King lands, and turns to face Vanessa, her vision takes a moment to catch up with where she knows the woman is. Nevertheless, the taunting by the other woman does but one thing... amuse her. "You want me to call it?" she says, putting her hands on her hips. "In front of my restaurant, you want me to give up. I don't mind getting dropped, luv, but concession while I can still stand doesn't seem like it'd be good for business." A wry grin creeps on her face as little bits of chi from the air begin to flare around her. "Besides," she says, hair and clothing beginning to flip around. "We haven't given my customers much of a show yet."
COMBATSYS: King gathers her will.
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Vanessa 1/------=/=======|=======\=====--\1 King
That can't be good. Still, she's pleased to see King's taking it in stride, much less with a bit of gusto.
"They want a show?" Vanessa replies, noting the crowd that's gathered. "Guess I'd better start aiming for modesty rather than physicality then, mn?" Grinning broadly, she makes a mock kissy-face at the blonde. Skirting forwards despite the fact that she could very well be throwing herself into another sprint, Vanessa's doing herself well to cover for the fact that she's still a little dizzy.
However, what lashes out is far from slow, even if it IS telegraphed. With a swift sock aimed straight for King's side, the blinding motion still not -quite- as fast as her earlier moves. "I'll be honest at least," she says, gearing up for the next shot with a roll of her shoulders, only to lash out with a right hook aimed towards the kickboxer's jaw, "I've been pretty fuckin' lucky through this whole thing." And then? Well. Then she ends it with an uppercut, which, if it lands, shows the kind of heavyweight force she's intending on putting behind it.
COMBATSYS: King blocks Vanessa's Puncher Weaving.
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Vanessa 1/-----==/=======|=======\======-\1 King
The faux kissy-face is returned with an additional wink, and King steps back into stance. As Vanessa attacks, however, the blonde doesn't really seem to actually so much block the attack as just divert it. The punch to her side still lands, just notin the vitals as intended, redirected by a simple twist of the body. The follow0up right hook is twisted into, smacking hard into the kickboxer's forearms. The uppercut is stepped into, thus causing it to smack her in the ribcage as opposed to the jaw. Though it hurts somewhat, she feels things are going to hurt more on her attacker's end here soon. "Wanna dance?" she asks playfully.
Suddenly, King flings herself backwards onto her hands, flipping back onto her feet again and launching herself at Vanessa with a flying back kick. Time and reality seems to distort around her attacks become both phantom and real for a few moments. Her strikes, blindingly fast, seem to be completely different in one instance than in the other. She unleashes a flurry of blows; a roundhouse kick followed by a hook kick with the same foot, a left hook punch with a right spinning backfist close behind and a left spinning backfist behind that. A sidekick follows a knee strike, which itself is followed by a front kick and a front elbow strike. A back flipkick, intended to pop the boxer into the air is followed quickly by the one-two kick combo of a Tornado Kick. The Illusion Dance.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa blocks King's Illusion Dance.
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Vanessa 1/---====/=======|===----\-------\0 King
Alright, now... here's something they don't train into you at all. Considering how unorthodox Vanessa's manuevering is. And, actually, come to think of it, it's outright *funny* from anyone else's standpoint. Smacked clean into the air by that backflip, the boxer has enough moxy left in her to do the only thing she can. The moment that King's leg lashes out to catch her once again, she... grabs hold of it, effectively ending any other attemps towards harming her. A KIND of block, but it has it's purpose.
Purpose that shines through the moment she hits the ground with a sharp *oof*, still clinging to the poor kickboxer's leg like some kinda dog in heat. ...Well, not really, but the *CLING* factor is still pretty hilarious. Using the hold she's got, she moves to throw her bodily towards the ground, apparently taking a couple cues from Ramon insofar as grappling is concerned. It's slow, but it's threatents to be pretty powerful in the end.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa successfully hits King with Medium Throw.
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Vanessa 1/---====/=======|====---\-------\0 King
It doesn't take King too long to know that her attempt at pulling out of this has... well... kinda fallen flat. With the redhead clearly hanging onto dear life, and the sudden dizziness factor from the kind of exertion she had to unleash in order to get off the Dance, she doesn't do much when Vanessa attempts to get her to hit the ground. Except to laugh when she does.
Flung onto her back, King takes a deep breath and then looks up into the sky, attention caught by a passing cloud. "It's a bunny," she says softly, pointing a gloved finger towards the sky. "You know what, Van, luv? I think alcohol appeals more now than before. You win. You choose the bar." A concession. Drinks are on King.
COMBATSYS: King takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Vanessa 1/---====/=======|====---\-------\0 King
Attempting to get up to her feet after that rather harsh manuever, Vanessa stumbles a couple times, laughing audibly at the first comment that King makes, the burst of sound accompanying a less than graceful fall straight onto her rear. Rubbing at her eyes a little, she -almost- has it in her to pout a bit at the concession, but hell... alcohol wins in any case. Leaning back on the palm of her hand, she grins broadly, raising her other fist in a mocking show of victory.
"Alright, you bastards," she says to the assembled crowd, getting slowly to her feet. "Time to back those asses up and give the lady some space." Making her way over towards King, she does something that the blonde COULD use to her advantage. She offers her her hand. Now... given that Vanessa's used this particular trick -herself-, she should know better. But... her intent is still clear. She isn't about to do anything funny or further attack the other woman at the moment.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa takes no action.
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Vanessa 1/---====/=======|====---\-------\0 King
Sitting up as Vanessa stands, King shakes her head. "Y'got me," she says as the hand is extended, and then taken. Using Vanessa as leverage, she once again gets back onto her feet, a slight stagger proving both that she is perhaps a little loopy from the blows to the head and the alcohol. If the bunny comment hadn't proven that earlier.
"Good one," she says, patting Vanessa on the shoulder. "So, where we going? I don't wanna hear my staff being Sunday Morning coaches, after all. I have a set of more casual clothing in the back that might not draw so much attention."
Her staff is notorious for mentioning all her shortcomings, and she can hear it now. 'Should have tried to block!' 'Should have tried to dodge!' 'You should have 'Striked her to oblivion!' Eeh. So, please, somewhere else.
COMBATSYS: King takes no action.
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Vanessa 1/---====/=======|====---\-------\0 King
Heh! Well. Vanessa'll probably make up for it eventually. As the crowd disperses, she offers up a "Like I said, hon," a grin spreading over her face, "I got lucky. You're one helluva shitkicker, I'll say that much. In the end, I think it's speed that got me through -any-'ve that." She pauses, though, considerate, a gaze cast back towards her car, which still sports her blazer overtop of the hood. Tapping lightly on her lower lip, she mmmns, jaw setting slightly.
"I know a few good biker bars that are nice and gritty. They've got a lotta good liquor and the staff knows me well enough. Though they see me walking in with -you- on my arm and I'll confirm -all- those suspicions they've got about me." She chuckles, shaking her head. "Not that it's a big deal. Let's see... there's the Shanghai, this one little joint down by the harbor that's got a beautiful scenic view of the ocean... ahhh.... hmn. I don't know, really. I'm pretty much happy to drive us anywhere. Not anywhere -near- snockered enough to make driving an issue. It's just the getting home part that might be problematic."
COMBATSYS: Vanessa has left the fight here.
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
King 0/-------/--=====|
COMBATSYS: King has ended the fight here.
"Yeah, it could have gone either way," King says with a light chuckle, "if things had swung my way at the start. Once they hit your side, though, it was all uphill for me." If the Dance had hit properly, things woulda been different, sure. "Well, luv, we could always make it easy," she says after a moment. "Anyplace close enough to your place to walk? Failing that, I can hit some of the backstock here and we could call either of our residences a bar for the evening."
Looking down at her clothing, King notes that there are more than a few holes and scrapes now in the delicate material she prefers. One of the reasons her tailors sell to her in bulk. Sigh. "In any case, I should go change. You go ahead and decide." With that, she turns and heads towards the Pao Pao's entrance.
Making her own way back into the Pao Pao with a nod of her head, Vanessa pauses only to make her way back towards her car, picking up her blazer, unlocking the front door and tossing the garment over the back of the front seat. With that, she turns on her heel and meanders towards the Pao Pao, either of her hands in her pockets as she moves. She'd be an idiot not to notice the thin sheen of sweat caused by the fight that took place. Still, she won't have time to get a shower-- and it's not as though she's in any danger of exuding offending odors.
Entering the building, she seats herself along the bar, constructing a five-shotglass pyramid with the remaining glasses if they've been left unattended. Her smirk is plain enough to prove her to be the victor, somethign the bartender's sure to notice, if she wasn't already paying rapt attention to the goings-on outside.
Sasha smiles at Vanessa as she plays with the glasses. "You know," she says, proving King's reactions, "if she'd blocked that straight punch, she would have had you."
It takes a few minutes with the waitresses hovering around Vanessa, giving their own version of a post-game report before the blonde steps out from back... and everyone goes silent. There is a certain look that everyone expects when they see King. from the bowtie to the wingtips, it's pretty much a given that King is always dressed like she's about to attend a wedding as the best man, if not the groom. This is not what she looks like.
First thing is the shirt. It's a silk chiffon tunic with a split neckline in black, sleeves slightly belled, the hem of which hits at the top of the thigh, with slits up to her waist. An A-Line skirt with op-art stripes miltered at the seams in alternating black and white stripes drapes to slightly above her knee. A strappy black sandal with a three inch heel completes the outfit that is now leaving the entire staff gaping. "I, uh," the blonde says, looking down at her outfit. "I thought it looked nice." Eyes shift from person to person, taking the reaction with unease. "...Was I wrong?"
Hell, even Vanessa's gaping.
And in this, she can't help but turn the entire situation into something of an amusing quip. "I swear people're gonna think that I'm taking you out on a date now," she comments, straightening her tie as if she's all the more aware of her -own- attire. "Looks fine to me, though." Sasha is afforded a brief look and a shrug of her shoulder, the comment she had waiting in the wings for the bartender lost to whatever aphasia decided to take hold of her in he first place.
"Now, a question of etiquette-- do I lead you out on my arm, or not?" Another grin, then, as she gestures towards the door. "C'mon. I've got some really good scotch back at my place that's been itching to get opened. Failing that? There's a jug of Sangria and a couple other things I'm sure we can burn through. If you wanna pick up anything from behind the bar before we go, feel free. But I'm -pretty- sure I've got enough of a stock to last."
Log created by Vanessa, and last modified on 10:34:39 06/11/2005.