Description: The stage: Royal Exhibition Building, Melbourne. Two fighters laden with style and finesse meet to cross their unusual talents. A fight that looks set to go either way until the Bernstein heir demonstrates his power to devastating effect - now, where did Foxy leave her cloning equipment?
'Down under' is not somewhere Foxy Arreaza is overly used to travelling. A generally brash and rugged race in stereotype and, to a different extent, in reality, the Australians have long had little to offer NESTS or the world of fighting as a whole. Curious, really, given the continent's size and seemingly excellent natural training facilities; a few weeks in the dangerous Outback would tame the spirit and focus the mind of any aspiring warrior. In this case, however, there is no braving the desert. Though the weather is hot indeed, it is a temperature which fails to bother the scientist or her small entourage of fellows. Besides, there is too much beauty here to let petty concerns ally one's appreciation.
Foxy currently stands by the fountain which in turn lies erect before the stately Royal Exhibition Building. Her keen, crimson gaze takes in the banks of flowers all about, drifting from these to the architecture itself in a long, contented sweep. "Magnificent," she murmurs softly, purely for her own ears. The stated entourage is not present - she stands alone but for the unheeded camera crew and announcer, who make an unusually small setup considering the scale of Howard's operation these days. Quality over quantity, she supposes. As, she hopes, will be the case in this bout. Two warriors; no frenetic mass of teeming bodies vying for a top spot before the public eye, simply a pair of honourable combatants prepared to give their all. Her opponent she knows. He is an object of much interest, professionally speaking.
Surely there are two professions in question here, however. Scientist and duellist. So much easier aligned than many would believe, but equally different in more unusual ways. Foxy strides a proud duality between them, passion and intelligence, singular focus and sweeping regard. Now she begins to stride in true, sensing the time for the battle's start approaching - she arrived early, but has guaranteed herself ready. Her rapier flies from its restraining belt loop with a soft hiss of steel against polished leather, and her boots clack across the stone underfoot as she moves. Back and forth she winds, a stab here, a cut there and a long thrust to end the warm-up... before the woman drifts to a halt, spinning gracefully upon her heels to face the space now provided for young Herr Bernstein.
This should be most interesting.
COMBATSYS: Foxy has started a fight here.
... There really aren't many remarkable names in the world of fighting where Australia is concerned, are there? Maybe it's the excellent booze, maybe it's the leisure-inducing weather, maybe it's the culture. Maybe SNK doesn't know about Australia. Whatever the reasons, the opulent structure beyond the courtyard where today's fight is to take place is certainly a suitable backdrop. Dramatic, elegant, and thanks to the Southern hemisphere... the courtyard absolutely teems with brilliant flowers, a myriad of colours standing in defiance to the parts of the world that think it's time for Fall, rather than Spring. The spray of water in the midst of the lavish courtyard may provide the centerpiece, but the focus is on the two fighters.
Adelheid has little idea what to expect of his opponent... Foxy, and NESTS itself for the most part, are still under the up and coming Bernstein's proverbial radar. But wildcard fights are one of his great loves, and despite his rather... inconsistent showings on Howard's dime, not only is he learning a lot, but attracting a decent following of interest. Which means precisely jack and shit to Adelheid, but it does keep him booked against interesting warriors. Like this stabbity woman here.
The platinum blonde stands casually in his 'appointed' corner when Foxy turns back, relaxed with a leisurely air that suggest a man who's been calmly waiting there much longer than he could possibly have been, in reality. One black-gloved hand rests at his hip, thumb hooked within one pocket of the casually-fitted leather pants he's wearing, of matching hue. The other hangs loose at his side, breeze rustling his bangs as Adel steadily considers Foxy, "A sword." He muses, neutrally, mostly to himself, before giving Foxy a simple nod, "Interesting." That much is certain... he's not sure what to expect, but it should be something new, at least. A form-fitted, silver grey tanktop hugs the lithe Bernstein's chest like a second skin, tucked in crisply. Despite his slight frame, Adelheid is undeniably well muscled, and apparently in the mood to show it off a bit. His customary, heavy military issue boots finalize the 'look', his weight shifting back to his rear leg as he rocks slowly out of and back into his leisurely stance.
"Let's make this a good fight. I want to see your best." He'll certainly be giving his. An odd request, maybe... but Adel isn't here for the victory check.
COMBATSYS: Adelheid has joined the fight here.
Success is a relative measure - one warrior's coveted sack of prize money is another's extravagant paperweight. Much like the young, handsome prodigy before her, Foxy's interest here lies far from the madding crowd, and from the pennies which they so eagerly throw into the enterprising lap of Geese Howard. What use winnings? Riches are easily squandered by most, frittered away and rendered as meaningless as the fights themselves in the purpose given. Whether or not she be one to judge, it seems the act of a dullard not to approach these bouts with a view to learning more about the world and those whom inhabit its cities. Or at least, the most special of these; the fighters. Alma Towazu was no disappointment, and Adelheid Bernstein carries himself well.
Well enough to nearly catch her off guard. His sudden appearance causes the faintest of starts, an eyebrow visibly twitching upward as Foxy takes in the waiting heir, whose stealth would seem to far surpass that of his brutish father's. Would that his style shall prove just as subtle and surprising.
"I may say the same of your own technique," Foxy responds with that thought dancing through her mind, wetting her lips momentarily before falling to the very stance that might be expected. A gloved hand curls into the air beyond her left shoulder, the right firmly gripping that rapier's hilt, bringing the flashing scarlet blade to the fore in an only /slightly/ modified fencing posture. There is a certain wild note to the stance that proclaims more spirit, more inner fire, than her demeanour might at first suggest. "But we shall see." As to giving her 'best'? "I will not hold back, Master Bernstein - from all I've heard, it would be tantamount to suicide." At the end, her Hispanic lilt gains an amused, perhaps teasing note, those eyes - a close match for Adelheid's own - gaining a focused depth as she eases herself into the first rhythms of battle. Though she hardly seems the type to rush in.
Surprises lurk around every corner. Before the announcer has even found his bearings, without checking for the cameras rolling, the Venezuelan darts forward in a fast double-pace, closing half the distance to her opponent before entering a blurred pirouette. One foot leading out of the motion, she appears before the youth with speed belied by her lofty manner... right forearm swinging about to bring her weapon's blade into possible first contact with her foe's gut. A simple, clean slice, to test the waters.
COMBATSYS: Adelheid blocks Foxy's Medium Strike.
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Adelheid 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Foxy
Perspective, perspective. The world is full of them, and whatever people hold as important... well, more power to them. Just as long as they don't start preaching. Howard already has more money than god, and if he's going to throw a contest of this level, well.... Adelheid isn't going to turn it down, at least not now. Where others might intern at a prominent professional institution, Adelheid's education continues in the proverbial field. Sure, these staged bouts aren't quite 'R' field-work dangerous, but the injuries can certainly be quite real.
What fun would it be otherwise? A wry smile spreads across the platinum blonde's face at Foxy's words, though he doesn't immediately respond. Suicide. Hmph. Only if he were looking to kill her! At least she doesn't freak out about the dangerous Bernstein's intentions like some others, his own introspection drifting back to Alma. Good times, good times.
The young Bernstein's stance remains unchanged as Foxy suddenly charges, almost as if he's failed to notice the initiative right away. But as she twists in, spinning that graceful turn, Adelheid executes a rotation of his own, backstepping and turning to face the rush askance, his left arm snapping upwards as he drops low, slapping the sword up and over his head, and lithely stepping right under the swipe as if it were all part of the plan, the line of rich crimson drawn in his bare forearm notwithstanding. Without missing a beat, Adelheid seeks to turn Foxy's momentum and forwardness against her rather sharply, his right bootheel axeing veritably straight upwards for the fencer's jaw. Should that hit meet any kind of success... Adelheid leaps upwards with blurring alacrity, executing his own three-hundred sixty degree rotation to snap his booted foot around for Foxy's temple, intent on kicking her right back the way she came, hopefully a good margin more dazed than when she came at him.
Already, this promises to be interesting.
COMBATSYS: Foxy counters Double Tomahawk from Adelheid with Seven Cycles.
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Adelheid 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Foxy
There is always risk in battle. Foxy holds not the same enthusiasm for the art, but she can certainly appreciate the subtleties and the excitement both - why else would she be here? Research could be conducted without direct involvement, though the woman herself would argue this to be substantially less effective. Compassion plays some part in her decision too, a self-imposed obligation to engage in the same pursuit as her 'children' both to understand and guide them all the better. Still. The adrenaline-fuelled martial motions do work one some level, inspiring a vigour that little else can incite to a similar degree... she would be lying if she stated there was no pleasure in this.
As her opponent shifts his body with admirable control to deflect her strike, that first spark of internal flame speaks to Foxy, causes her lips to flicker upward as a rush hits. He's good. Graceful, fast and possessing a self-assurance only a precious elite can boast, she almost feels herself outmatched, if only for a single milisecond. As quickly as thought can arrive, instinct carries the momentum to a rapid pace - and she follows through with her redirected motion, that rather extravagant mane of hair clinging to her side as she flows, almost retracing the path of her earlier rotation. Adelheid moves in, as she moves away, his direct intent only too clear... their minds work in much the same way. On this occasion, the woman's proves sharper.
*shing* Blade meets boot, Foxy's arm bringing her rapier back into play just as Adel begins his second turn. One strike has been parried, the next? It meets a fleeting contact with the rapier's flat, a glancing defence that plays the form of aggression not even a moment later. Over-extended as he is, the Bernstein heir can do nothing to prevent the long, deep cut drawn into his midsection, from just above the groin to halfway up the right set of ribs. It may be painful, but the Venezuelan is certain her opponent can tolerate such. Still whirling, she finally ends her rapid movement with a deft leap away, falling back into her stance confident and prepared.
Graceful, quick, self-assured... yes, but all those things could describe Adelheid's opponent as well, as she demonstrates with the quick, retreating deflection of the young Bernstein's attempted one-two. Shirt torn by the offensive swipe of the blade, the letting of blood colours the grey a dark, ominous crimson, blood spreading for a short distance before the loss begins to slow... for the moment, at least. Resilient, yes, but that certainly stung. His spinning rotation lacks momentum after the strike from that rapier, but to his credit, Adelheid does complete the twist and land on his feet... mostly. A quick three-point crouch saves him from eating the courtyard this early, dark eyes immediately snapping back upwards towards Foxy. Apparently, he means to follow up for some reprisal.
Rather than charging the fleet-footed fencer, and giving her time to adapt and respond, he seeks to turn the retreat against her. Make her come to him. That slow smile returns, more pleased than wry, and in nearly the same instant... Adelheid leaps. Not in on Foxy, but straight upwards, his right leg swinging forward, boot nearly grazing the ground as he rises, a tumult of winds coursing in a magnificent torrent along the path of that foot. In the blink of an eye, the disturbance in the air is a waist-high, lancing wave of swirling silver chi, the dark storm blasting across the ground with force enough to relieve the closest of the bordering flowers of their petals, the beds suddenly stricken by a tremendous gust of wind. Which is nothing compared to being directly in the path of that ragged-edged cleaver of pure energy.
COMBATSYS: Adelheid successfully hits Foxy with Reppukyaku.
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Adelheid 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Foxy
The boy is wily enough, and cool-blooded as they come. It would take some force of will for most fighters to restrain their immediate onslaught after receiving a lesson like that - precisely the manner of headstrong impetuousness which Foxy was banking on to keep this fight swung in her favour. This may be early days, but it is never too soon to try and force a collar upon momentum. Instead, he surprises her, the expression noted momentarily before his leap... hardly the look of a predator toying with its prey, but the similarities soon prove to be present. More fool her for judging the situation so hastily after an initial exchange.
Attempting to sway herself away at the last possible moment, it can be surely admitted that the oncoming wave of chi is far from expected. Sharp and vicious, the thrashing received by the tulips is a fair analogue for what occurs to the Venezuelan, caught in mid-leap herself as she attempts to gain height and somersault cleanly over the throbbing wave. That focused expression can be seen to change as she's caught, an edge of frustration against her eyes' crimson countenance, but only briefly before she crashes to the ground, barely getting a shoulder in to turn a painful landing into a recovery roll, rapier tucked against her side to save foolish further injury.
Foxy comes to her feet with a chuckle, drawing the free hand across her brow, pushing away a few remnanets of damaged petal. "Good," she notes with a nod, speaking more to herself than Adelheid - though the word is certainly audible. She wanted to discover an interesting opponent, and her she has one... exactly as the reports have stated. "Your demeanour does credit to your style - I look forward to seeing more." But will she tary long? Only for two quick lashes of the blade against the air, twin cuts that leave behind a trail of flickering silver energy. Perhaps she has her own hidden aces. Regardless, the NESTS operative begins forward, closing the distance comfortably and easily...
With no attack forthcoming. The ball is in his court.
COMBATSYS: Foxy focuses on her next action.
Comfortably, easily... not an assault that's going to press Adelheid's defenses right this moment, so he takes those moments of non-pressure to center himself, regain his own bearings. He's got a nice sting in his gut and arm, and unlike blunt trauma... well, the searing, stingy element really adds something to the experience. Still, the young Bernstein isn't dissuaded... he wanted a challenging battle, and he's certainly finding one. There's a slight sparkle to his eyes as he considers Foxy's display, appearing once again pleased, rather than intimidated, by the perceived prowess in the fencer.
He also perceives in that predatory, yet alert advance that she's entirely expecting, wanting him to counter it. And so Adelheid paces Foxy instead, flanking to the side in a reversal of her own approach, backing away just a bit each time. Not enough to stay out of reach indefinitely, but certainly enough to transfer the ball back to her court, and make /him/ the one with breathing room. Theoretically. His stance drifts back to casual readyness, booted feet falling lightly as his lithe frame prepares to move... one way or another. Which way? Well, that's awfully hard to read in the non-committal, multi styled defense the Bernstein heir utilizes. For the moment, all he seems to be doing is breathing, his own inner chi flexing tangibly, a drifting of silvery power tracing the fingertips of one hand as he calmly studies the fencer.
"Quick and cagey." Adel observes, still sounding entirely entertained by this affair, "Can you keep it up?" Challenging someone obviously well and totally prepared to strike... he's definitely a Bernstein.
COMBATSYS: Adelheid gains composure.
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Adelheid 0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0 Foxy
Observing that her opponent intends no immediate action of his own, Foxy slows her own pace somewhat. While intent and intended resolution no doubt remain the same, she begins to track him down at a speed perhaps more leisurely and less aggressive - perhaps. It may merely be looked upon as sporting, or to the more paranoid and wary a means of waiting for a correct and proper opening. Calculated risk. The more time the youth has to prepare, the better a state he will be in; but to keep him moving is to prevent any real focus save that attained physically. To rush the matter would bring adrenaline into play and potentially see a devastating manuever pay off through sheer moxy.. with a foe this strong, she cannot have such a thing. Chipped stone crunching underfoot as she moves surely, comfortably in her own groove, Foxy simply waits.
There's not even a reply to his query - she will not be distracted, not now of all times, when the battle is at level pegging and planning matters most of all. The first sign of any change is an ever-so-slight tension creeping into the thighs and ankles, followed shortly thereafter by an offensive crouch. It's only entered briefly. Mirroring some form of lethal dance, these two, and in a moment the woman is back upon her feet and pacing; a way to mask the further tension that is being prepared for a leap forward. A leap /over/ the youth. Her heart beats to a cool rhythm, her breathing is controlled, but then it comes with an expulsion of breath, a sharp but soft kiai that plays some fair warning to action.
Foxy may be too fast for that to matter. Launching herself heavenward, she arches her back, curving that athletically lithe figure around in a beautifully executed somersault. The move by itself might have proven ponderous, risky in itself, but for the blade's simultaneous motion, its edge brought around in a flashing crescent moon that eclipses far more space than it rightly should. Chi streaming off the steel, a cut is made every bit as much reliant upon that natural energy as the fencer's blade. There's not far to move-- and the scintillating cut will be deep.
COMBATSYS: Adelheid reflects Silver Moon from Foxy with Dark Barrier EX.
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Adelheid 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Foxy
Paced, calm, collected... Adelheid studies every motion of Foxy's form with an analytical eye, a consideration that betrays experience well beyond his youthful years. The platinum blonde simply echoes Foxy's footfalls and motions in mirrored ease, the graceful fighters squaring off with nearly synchronous movements for several long, hushed moments, the onlookers stilled to silence... at least for the moment. If neither makes a move, well, that silence is liable to change drastically, but for the moment, all is well, tense, exciting.
Adelheid's booted footfalls leave the path behind, stepping off onto the more forgiving lawn of the courtyard, his steady preparations maintained. Cool blooded? Check. Cooler heads tend to prevail, at least in Adel's estimation, something his father doesn't always see eye to eye with him on. But in this case, the platinum blonde is ready. Still in synch with his adversary, Adelheid's half-crouch follows Foxy's momentary one, though he stalls in that posture for another lingering moment, fiery eyes tracking the latina adeptly. The tingle of energy along that blade, the shouted kiai, and Adelheid is in motion, pushing upwards led by a single, open palm.
It's one of those moments that hangs in time : slicing steel, luminescent energy, and graceful motion, all of which collides in a kaleidoscope of brilliant chi as Adelheid conjures forth a disclike barrier of solid power in his open palm. The impromptu shield is the first surface Foxy's slice connects with, the edge of chi reaving magnificiently into the silver-grey barrier, Adelheid's arm flexing with the impact, as shockwaves ripple outwards along the Dark Barrier. Swirling winds hold true, however, as Adelheid turns evenly, smoothly, keeping the alignment square with the fencer's flight...
Before the blade's abated momentum can be fully calculated and reconsidered, the shield ripples back inwards, reinforcing itself in an instant as Adelheid's palm suddenly clenches.... and all that gathered energy veritably explodes outwards, a cloud of chi-shrapnel shotgunning right back at Foxy, her own power betraying her as the oppositional chi reverses its polarity... and explodes outwards itself. Tearing winds, along with brilliant, quick-dissipating light surrounding her is the reward Foxy's cageyness gets her this time, and while the abstract explosion may not be focused enough to do intensive, lasting damage... it's not going to make her trip overhead any happier.
At least the fans shall have their 'snapshot'.
Foxy has already been startled once by the Bernstein heir's speed and control over natural energies, and as he thrusts a palm skyward to meet her assault she can see once again that she has been out-played. Chi flails through the air, her own abilities faltering before the steady gaze of one whose training has been that harsher, honing a more devastating human weapon - or so it would seem for the moment. His motions are every bit as graceful as her own during their first exchange, but yet more unorthodox, a manner of technique used by a scant number of individuals proving her foil in this instance. Her coat-tails and hair billows out around her as Foxy is struck, beaten over and over by the sharp gust... she has felt far harder blows, but the displayed ingenuity and originality do more damage to her composure than any brutish rabbit punch.
Turning herself desperately through the air to land at the lip of the fountain, the Venezuelan's flight is mercifully brief due to her own, gymnastic display. Sword still in hand, she pauses there to suck in a quick breath, blinking her eyes to remove a lingering afterglow. "Full of surprises," and full of fascinating genetic code, no doubt, and indeed a distant hunger now lurks in her crimson eyes. If she can take this youth down, he will most likely contribute something to the cause - or perhaps, if not, that can be a later pursuit. Somehow violent yet so beautifully controlled, he moves like the most noble of savages, strong yet graceful, flooded with internal power while tempering that with a cool exterior. It's hardly a unique state, but still marks him for one of the world's most potentially talents... this cocktail of skill cannot entirely be due to training. Still, time to linger and meditate can come later; there is still the best part of a battle to be fought, a victor to be chosen and that oh-so-desired prize money to be obtained.
Foxy hops from her perch without further ado, dropping briefly to a crouch then rising to a full-frontal dash, holding herself tight and carefully despite the manner of movement. Covering the distance back toward Adel in a rush of winds, she makes no attempt to conceal brutality behind clever manuevering, simply aiming to catch him before he can fully recover his wits with a long, leaping thrust from that rapier. ...though of course, should the blade find a sheath in tightly muscled flesh, it will be ripped back into the heated air with a debilitating twist added for effect. Admire each other they may be, but this is not about forging friendship.
COMBATSYS: Adelheid dodges Foxy's Fierce Strike.
Adelheid's genetic material is his own damn business! Not that NESTS is likely overly concerned with someone's personal space, but... the platinum blonde is certainly defending his own capably just this moment. A quick half-twist completes the rotation that helped him follow Foxy's trajectory, bringing the young Bernstein back around to face the agile fencer. Again, his dark eyes track her, studying the landing, the recovery, and the renewed charge. She's certainly not showing any signs of abating just yet, which suits the young Bernstein just fine.
... Partly because his recovery from the deflection is bordering on uncanny, his stance reassumed and a single breath centering his focus as Foxy renews her attack. It's definitely impressive, the quick recovery, given the sheer force behind that stabbing lunge, which is all the more reason /not/ to be in the way. Even if there wasn't that nasty followup image of twisting and tearing flesh. Adelheid does not need a piercing, particularly /that/ kind. Training, talent, determination, or some esoteric equation involving all that and more... Adel isn't elaborating just now, he's just moving. With precision and speed, the young Bernstein steps left, twisting clockwise as Foxy's leaping stabbityness sends her rapier point sliding through the thin air where the platinum blonde had just been standing, the sword skewering that space in front of his torso, rather than his body itself.
Almost as quickly, Adel's momentum changes again, another step left bringing him in the reverse direction the fencer's charge took her, as his right hand seeks to grasp her extended wrist. Should that maneuver prove successful, the followthrough is efficient and simple, the elegant style showing its brawler roots as Adel seeks to harshly twist Foxy's arm backwards... it would disarm most armed opponents, but then, she obviously /isn't/ most armed opponents. The platinum blonde's left palm would seek to plant between her shoulderblades, the fulcrum by which her arm would be further bent, her momentum turned against her in the plot to - quite frankly - plant her face-first into the dirt with a sharply unbalancing shove.
COMBATSYS: Foxy fails to counter Quick Throw from Adelheid with Seven Stars.
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Adelheid 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Foxy
Agile, perhaps, and once considered - but the deft manner in which Adelheid Bernstein has denied her every focused assault has taken its tool upon a psyche oft given to break that tight concentration with wild offensive motions. Put it down to the fanatic in her soul. Foxy's thrust was one such concession to berserker tactics, and though well aimed enough to cause a pause in lesser men, it is a weighty manuever to attempt against one such as this youth, as is her next attempt to turn the battle around. Still reaching for his gut with the tip of her blade, she has precious time to swing around and form an evasion of her own, but she does convince herself she has ample space to attempt something rather less orthodox.
A move which costs her dearly.
Foxy emits a harsh cry when Adelheid stands near, twisting her wrist against his grip even as she brings the other hand across, seeking to thrust his arm away. A block of sorts, a parry in another sense as it's turned suddenly very aggressive-- or would have been. She reveals her lack of brute strength instead, grasping but failing to make any leeway upon the Bernstein's iron grip. "You-" Barely able to muster any coherent thought, she is dealt a sharp burst of pain that ends any such attempt. Thrown off her feet a second later, chest heavily impacting with the stone, she only avoids damage to her face by jerking her neck back - and this, is what costs her most. Absorbed in saving herself distracting pain, the latin woman succeeds only to lose herself perhaps the most valuable asset she has, the reddish-steel rapier clattering away precisely as it would most logically do. Not just any armed opponent, but even the greatest have their off days... and there are a notable number better than the NESTS operative.
Momentarily unarmed and disorientated, she begins to rise. But any prospect of taking an advantage is fast escaping.
Despite his rather less than imposing stature, Adelheid does posess at least /some/ measure of his father's strength... strength that can be rather hard to contest in many situations. As Foxy goes careening away, and allows herself to be relieved of her deadly little prodding implement, Adelheid pauses a moment, apparently sensing (or just seeing) the lethargy in the fencer's recovery. Kicking her while she's down, well, in this situation, that's no fun at all. But as she unsteadily regains her footing, well...
That's another issue entirely. As Foxy unsteadily pushes to her feet, Adelheid sprints forward with an alarming burst of sheer acceleration, a trick of his inner chi that can be used to other, more devestating effects than the sudden rush, but... well, that's for another time.
The platinum blonde's gloved left snaps out for the front of Foxy's cape. His intent? Well, he's helping her up, of course! A bit further up than she might want to go, however, as if Adelheid finds his grip, he'll hoist the fencer right off the ground by that single, lithely muscled arm, holding her aloft just long enough to sharply twist about and bring his right fist up harshly into her ribcage.
There is an upside to all this, however... possibly intentionally, he seeks to slam her out of his grip, and send her hurtling in the direction of her sword.
COMBATSYS: Foxy dodges Adelheid's Scorpion Blow.
Lethargy? No. There is pain, and there is notable hesitation, but the woman is not keen to lie upon the laurels of defeat but midway through this battle. She rises unsteadily and with a hint of uncertainty in every movement, but her alertness has remained raised where it truly counts - where Adelheid knows the secret lies - in a sharp, keen mind. A flash of instinctive insight tells her the youth is holding nothing back, the realisation dragging forth a flash of pleasurable amusement. He certainly keeps his promises.
Twisting at the hip while the handsome heir makes his approach, Foxy uses his own grip to throw him momentarily off-balance, prepared to tear herself away before she can be wholly lifted. Indeed.. he has given her a most welcome helping hand. Momentum once more gained, the woman dances away, dropping to a half-crouch to evade any further attempt to regather her form, and comes around beside her fallen weapon. A slight smile on her lips, she scoops the blade up by its hilt, bringing it around in a warrior's salute to the platinum-haired youth.
"I'm afraid you still possess the advantage, Master Bernstein. Perhaps I should seek to change that?" Her tone laced with good humour, the Venezuelan falls smoothly into her stance, shifting light upon the balls of her feet and simply waiting, bringing her energy back under her own control. She cannot allow herself to become enraged again, nor confused, nor guided solely by adrenaline.. control must be retained. Only then can the final prize possibly be taken.
COMBATSYS: Foxy gains composure.
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Adelheid 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Foxy
Ah! Sometimes all someone needs is a helping hand. Or pain-based motivation. Rugal's Rule #463. Foxy's agility seems to have returned in a hurry, as she twists out of the young Bernstein's grip, leaving him with little option but to track her motion as she recovers her blade, which brings the smile back to his face. He pauses a moment to return the salute with a nod. That is, after all, what this is all about... and Foxy may have been kept at bay thus far, but she looks to have plenty of fight left in her, from where Adelheid is standing.
Of course, while it behooves the fencer to take the advantage, so it seems prudent to Adel to see what he can do about taking that fight /out/ of her. The momentary show of respect ends, and the platinum blonde is in motion in another blink of an eye, continuing the full-on frontal assault with rather passionate dedication. Foxy may have lost herself to anger before, but there seems no agitation in this charge...
It's methodical, determined, and rather unconventional. A new trick, but one Adel's grown rather fond of... as he suddenly closes with Foxy, a sharp weaving feint brings him in low on her left flank, a seeming palm-thrust snapping rapidly in at her ribcage. It's only a /seeming/ palm-thrust, however, as when that hand nears the fencer, a swirling burst of silver-grey chi spirals nigh instantly outward, coalescing into a cleaving disc.
... one that would be forged right in Foxy's guts, with the obvious intent of literally blasting her backwards with a surge of crackling chi.
COMBATSYS: Foxy blocks Adelheid's Dark Barrier.
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Adelheid 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Foxy
Claim what she may as regards her attitude toward fighting, Foxy is no easy quitter. Possibly some side effect of her all-encompassing resolve and fervour in other pursuits, this nonetheless ensures she will neither quit nor allow herself to lose control for a long period. Hardly stoic nor gifted with the focus granted other, more serious martial artists, she has her own special brand of intensity and methods that are entirely her own. She's as close to self-taught as experienced fighters come - there is no overseer master, only a basis from which she has worked since her tender years. This will prevent her ever becoming truly great, but she can stand up to this prodigy, at least...
As he closes with his next attack, she has already felt the tingling upsurge of energy that will herald something beside that thrusting palm. An advantage of engaging in both biological study and meditative combat training. A flicker of energy courses up her readied blade, as it's drawn back and then held horizontally across her torso, catching the plam upon slanted steel and allowing the worst of the disc to scatter away from her flesh. Misjudgement costs her a slight backlash, and it staggers her, but she turns this to her favour, dropping immediately to a low crouch... with no time to draw back the blade. Scant matter. On entering her intended stance, the left leg snaps forward and hooks outward in a very basic, effective sweep kick.
Take away one of his limbs, and she can buy herself another lull.
COMBATSYS: Foxy successfully hits Adelheid with Light Kick.
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Adelheid 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Foxy
And score two for that Foxy lady... ahem.
While the intensity of the energy poured into the Dark Barrier may still be rather impressive, it's of little import in this case... the fencer's recovery and retaliation are surprising, even to the calculating Adel. Thrown off balance by the quick sweep, he drops low rather against his own will, crashing back first into the well-tended lawn. Thwump.
The jarring impact is taken in stride, the platinum blonde's teeth gritting as he hits the ground hard, but immediately flows into a backwards roll. As he inverts, both booted feet kick skywards, Adelheid hurling himself skyward, one palm planted to the ground. In a graceful, impressively high arc, Adelheid tucks his legs in and rights himself, reaching down to his boot, and drawing the straight-edged blade sheathed there, semi-concealed. Hey, if she can bring toys into this fight, so can he. The solid, shearingly sharpened knife is hurled in a downward arc, right at Foxy. Seeing if he can't catch her by surprise in return!
COMBATSYS: Foxy overcomes Thrown Object from Adelheid with Thrown Object.
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Adelheid 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Foxy
Seems they're both full of surprises.
Retracting her leg and standing in the same smooth motion - one other advantage to a hooking sweep, never let it be said the fencer leans solely upon her weapon, Foxy is barely back into her stance and starting a tight circle around her foe when his acrobatic recovery surfaces. A roll, a flip, and a blade? That sends an eyebrow flickering upward, the latino's expression somewhere between disappointed and precisely the opposite. Adelheid is showing an ability to take a different tactic under any situation, versatility surely the mark of a future master. He'll do nicely.
But once more, appreciation does not stand before reaction. On seeing that gleaming steel edge, the Venezuelan moves to capture her own retaliatory projectile, hand grasping for the base of her rapier's hilt and giving a swift twist. A slender, short stiletto falls free, quickly palmed and just as deftly swiped into the air before her, shining in the burning sunlight as it flickers aside the much larger weapon. Leaving the combat knife to embed itself in a flower bed behind the woman. Seems she has an excellent aim. Withdrawing a single pace, allowing the room between them to remain, she notes, "I'd comment upon your honour, Master Bernstein, but nobody appreciates a hypocrite... well played."
COMBATSYS: Adelheid overcomes Thrown Object from Foxy with Reppukyaku.
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Adelheid 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Foxy
Excellent aim indeed!
"Impressive." The young Bernstein intones, apparently pleased by the fencer's aim... or perhaps the overall recovery she's making. While he may still be pressing her, she's matching him every step of the way, now... trick for trick. That's not to say the Bernstein heir seems particularly /shocked/ by the show, however. He's well aware of Foxy's abilities, and that she had her own concealed weapon, well... as she says, no one appreciates a hypocrite. As he descends, Adelheid ups the ante one more time, twisting sharply about and bringing his right foot up, the arcing kick ripping a ragged tear through the very air, blazing edges of silvery chi torn along the path of the platinum blonde's booted foot, launching a tremendous wave of luminescent energy back at Foxy.
The mighty edge of rampant wind-chi washes over the accurate stilleto, blasting it aside as the surging wave crashes in on the fencer, threatening to familiarly envelope her in its gale-like mass.
COMBATSYS: Adelheid successfully hits Foxy with Reppukyaku.
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Adelheid 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Foxy
Apparently Foxy is hardly cut out to deal with the faster and more powerful external manifestation of this youth's chi - she can feel the surge in the air, sense that ever-present energy begin to move toward the Bernstein heir. A slight smirk touches her lips, and she relaxes in her stance only to immediately tense once more... she can see the starting motions of that signature technique before Adelheid's form is fully off the floor, noting it from their earlier encounter. However. Seeing a technique and properly evading it are entirely different things- an analytical eye, an attention for detail, may well help, but without a greater depth of experience and a certain amount of luck the situation can still prove dire.
Some might say her opponent is being predictable. She'd argue quite the opposite. Beginning to move as the silver-grey wave torpedoes forth, she bends like a willow and starts a running leap toward the nearby fountain's edge - hoping to catapult herself around the point of impact and spring off to catch her foe unawares. It's a somewhat risky and certainly flashy manuever that ends up sending her nowhere but back to the floor, leap turned into stagger as the energies barrel over her, sending coattails and bizarre ponytail once more into frantic billowing. Perturbed, certaintly, disadvantaged moreso, but all the same...
She continues her intended course, fighting through the pain and disorientation to hurl herself into a more wild spinning leap than originally planned. Throwing off her addled state in the process, she loses time without thoroughly losing composition, and is able to triangle-hop from the chiselled stone of the fountain to a direct collision course with Adelheid; or so it seems. At the last moment she'll twist, dropping to an aerial crouch and falling to the ground for a reasonably agile landing, meanwhile bringing her rapier down in a passing slash to his upper body.
COMBATSYS: Adelheid dodges Foxy's Medium Strike.
So, this is an educational exercise for both fighters. What have we learned recently? Let's recap. Knives are handy. Daggers are better. Go for raging blasts of chi when possible, though. Hope you're taking notes.
The fencer's style is nothing if not unorthodox and unpredictable... in truth Adelheid's never seen anything quite like the agile blade-swinger, and staying a step ahead doesn't mean he's not still paying close attention... and taking the woman with the nasty, pointy thing rather seriously. The platinum blonde dances backwards as Foxy's rapidly-changing trajectory becomes apparent, and he weaves away from the cutting path of her rapier with a sharp twist, dropping back the span of several steps in a flash, his attention remaining on the Venezuelan. The Bernstein heir doesn't seem to go far, however, but rather than pressing the frontal assault in return...
Adel darts sharply to the right, and in, looking to dart in and around as fast as or faster than Foxy can turn about to oppose the sudden offensive. Which consists of another rather sharply efficient tactic one might expect of a military brawler... the famous stiff straight to the head, which is carried on swift wings by the platinum blonde's stiffly clenched, gloved left fist.
COMBATSYS: Foxy fails to counter Quick Punch from Adelheid with Seven Stars.
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Adelheid 0/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Foxy
Raging blasts of chi do seem to swing a battle rather admirably; as once again evidenced here, Adelheid's tactics paying off. Not only gaining him precious instants to prepare for his opponent's athletically telegraphed counter-attack, but also the wherewithal to follow directly into another display of the techniques passed directly from his father. Foxy has never fought the man or she would have marked them instantly... even as it is, the hunch is certainly there. Either way the style is immensely effective. The woman attempts - that word, again - to raise an aggressive parry, rapier brought to one side and rapidly upward to cast aside the striking fist, intent to reverse that directly into a vicious cut. But it's not to be.
"Ngh." Head jerked painfully to one side, Foxy's actually rather stunned for a moment, unable to do more than scuttle backward, fingers wrapping more tightly around her weapon. She'll stand in a moment - until then, there's yet more time for her opponent to prepare. She needs to exact some form of intervention, but precisely what?
It's yet another of those Bernstein rules, really. Quite a number of the rules, actually.
... there are many occasions when one should punch someone in the head, after all. Not the least of which is to set them off balance. Adelheid is indeed true to his word, and letting off on the fencer now, well... that would just be dishonest. He's spent a lot of time studying various styles of fighting... both under his father's tutelage and from fights like these, numerous contests with a diverse group of warriors. Now, it seems he's setting to work on dissecting Foxy's maneuvers for his own purposes.
Adel presses the attack on the staggered fencer rather brutally and directly, stepping in with all his weight on her exposed left flank, and twisting as his boot axes upwards, the intent to deliver a far more staggering roundhouse to the scientist swordswoman's skull. Despite the grim efficiency, the intensity about Adelheid remains a calm, cool thing... alert, paced, and confident, there seems to be no particular malice to the assault... but he's certainly trying to push Foxy to her limits. Or perhaps beyond.
COMBATSYS: Foxy fails to interrupt Heavy Kick from Adelheid with Fierce Punch.
COMBATSYS: Foxy can no longer fight.
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Adelheid 1/-------/=======|
Dissecting, examining and utterly destroying. Limits are met and exceeded. Despite a sound early showing, Foxy Arreaza is now on the verge of humiliation - if she'd ever let such a useless emotion register - and resembling little more than a defenseless pup. Amusing to those who have seen her fight before, and thought her arrogant or dull in her methods. As Adelheid moves for his final assault, she begins to rise with a setting of her jaw, a flicker in those crimson eyes that seems to emanate outward from her form. It's a last show of determination to no avail whatsoever. Before she can so much as raise an arm, the kick plows into her temple, knocking her clean off her feet into an aerial pirouette.
The landing is not graceful.
Falling in a crumpled heap, extremities dropping across her back a moment after the body itself hits, it seems there's not even anything the woman can do to remain conscious. The Bernstein heir takes gold and glory - it's over. Game, set and match.
Log created by Foxy, and last modified on 11:45:13 09/10/2006.