Description: Politicians may not like fighting all that much, but their relatives sure do. Formal attire only, folks! (Winners: Elle and Ingrid)
There's a reason the Devil went down to Georgia. it's because the place is approximately three hillbillies shorter and five degrees cooler than hell. It doesn't get too much better in March, either. With the weather slowly growing warmer and mixing with the stangant humidity, the sticky sensation is starting to set in, especially in the midday sun at a large gala gathering for a senator's son.
Being a mulatto, there's a lot not to like about Georgi for Elle, and the 'saving grace' basically boils down to 'at least it's not Alabama'. Nevertheless, she still feels free to show her contempt for her surroundings by coming in her usual high class party fare. This consists of a pair of strategically torn jeans, calf high boots, and a black babydoll t-shirt that reads 'Save a Tree, Eat A Beaver'. Obviously a woman of high class, and even higher standards. Still, money's been a little tight this week, so here she is, making her appearance.
Lucky, she pulled a side gig for the party: with her guitar in hand, she sits on the steps of the bandstand on the front lawn of the Senator's home, drinking bottled water and giving ugly looks to the small crowd of 15 year old Christian private school boys gawking at her. "No, I don't have any pot on me. Go away."
On the other hand, Ingrid appears to be completely in her element at the high class social affair, dressed in her standard fare, which she considers easily classy enough for an occasion such as this. Currently she seems to be chatting with the birthday boy himself, doing her best to remain polite. It isn't likely she'd ever be able to attend a party such as this one had she not been a fighter. Her parents aren't exactly poor, but they don't rub elbows with America's rich elite, either.
The current topic seems to be about the simply excellent quality of food that was served. Ingrid normally would have allowed herself to indulge in it a bit more, but she held herself to a light meal only just in case Elisabeth decides to give her a nice hard punch to the stomach. The conversation shifts to politics, about whether he's going to enter the political arena like his father, and Ingrid goes quiet, knowing very little about how that works in America.
She excuses herself and walks around a little, catching sight of the woman who's to be her partner in the brawl that could break out at any second and deciding to go introduce herself, moving slowly between the people in the crowd and stopping when she's at the top of the steps. "Pleased to meet you. Elle Belmounte I presume? I'm Ingrid Holmann, pleased to meet you." A polite curtsy is offered.
A gala such as this is definitely an affair the Blanctorche heiress is comfortable in, despite the awful weather and stifling humidity of the American south.
Her arrival into the gala was a touch belated, but notable nonetheless. Atop a snow-white stallion, the woman rides with poise and grace, dark eyes focused ahead of her as she guides her steed toward the affair. Mindful of her manners, as well as the tastes of the party-goers, the woman stops just outside of a reasonable distance, yanking the reigns lighting and coaxing the horse to stop. It neighs lightly and snorts, hooves grinding against soft grass before the heiress herself twists her form, dismounting the black saddle with practiced ease and grace. It practically comes as second-nature to a woman of her standing.
As she enters the eyes of most if not all the party-goers turn to her. She is, of course, the last of the three combatants tonight, who are, in turn, the main attraction. With her head held high the woman approaches and tilts her head gently to one side, delicate hands resting akimbo on her hips as she states with an air of authority, "Bonjour. I am Mademoiselle Blanctorche, here to participate in the Saturday Night Fight." Shifting her dark eyes, they first note the guitarist Elle, lips pulling into a thin, thoughtful line before she searches the crowd for the other fighter, Ingrid. Unlike Elle, however, the girl blends in better with high society.
Regardless of whether or not Ingrid is present the woman draws her eyes to a close and states, "In any case, I am prepared for this afternoon's engagement. If both of my opponents are here and present, please step forward if you are ready to begin." Clearly Elisabeth wishes to waste no time.
COMBATSYS: Elisabeth has started a fight here.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Elisabeth 0/-------/-------|
Swell. The Princesses and the Pissed off. Elle gives Ingrid a blank stare as she goes through the whole rigamarole of curtseying and making a fuss over a lot of nothing. That's fine. If anything, the rocker holds her tongue for the younger girl. After all, they're supposed to be partners, and [23. The last thing she needs now is to have the person she's supposed to be working with utterly pissed off. Still, it's not too hard to tell that the boiling barrage of insults are being held back with some serious effort as the y carom inside her head like a bb pellet in a metal shed. Or at least that's the expression she heard Cousin Jethro Clampett or whatever use right before he ate an entire shrimp cocktail and went to find the juice bar.
"Yeah. Elle. Nice to meet you. Yadda yadda yadda." The woman makes a 'blah blah' motion with her hand. "Listen kiddo. I have no effing clue who you are, and I'm betting the feeling's reciprocal here. So let's keep this simple, eh? I have no idea what we're up against. The last time I did one of these do's, my partner nearly barbecued me. So just be careful, capisch?"
Having said her peice, which while not that polite happens to be the most civil she can muster right now, she turns her head to watch Elisabeth gallop on in like something from a Charlotte Bronte novel. Nearly choking on her own spit, she doubles over, in a coughing fit. "Holy shit on a stick. Are you serious?" Staggering to her feet, her eyes widen as she gets a good look at the proper French woman. "I guess you aren't. And all setting the stage and telling us what to do already." Stepping down off the landing of the stange, she horks up something phlegmy and nods. "A'ight, French Fry. Let's do this thing."
COMBATSYS: Elle has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Elisabeth 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Elle
COMBATSYS: Ingrid has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ingrid
> //////////////////////////////]
|-------\-------\0 Elle
Ingrid does her best to keep a look of extreme amusement from coming onto her face as Elle tells her what's up. She manages it well, and simply nods her head, "Oh, I see. I understand. I'll do my best not to get in your way." She smiles warmly to Elisabeth as she rides up, and gives the same formal introduction to her as well. "Pleased to meet you, Mademoiselle Blanctorche, my name is Ingrid Holmann." She curtsies just as she did towards Elle. "I'm ready now, if that's acceptable." And it seems to be, as both of the other women seem to be trying to get straight to the point.
The effect that Elle seems to have on Elisabeth upon speaking to her in a particularly insulting fashion is...none what so ever. In fact, the Frenchwoman's expression remains cold and utterly composed as she stands there, simply observing as both fighters make their way forward toward her. It's not as if the woman doesn't take particular note of the guitarist; oh no, if anything, Elisabeth pays more mind to the uncouth woman than the likes of Ingrid.
Ingrid, on the other hand, earns a tiny grin from the woman, but it's tiny and rather easily overlooked. Bowing her head, the elder woman regards her. At least one of the two she's left to fight have a shred of manners. It's a little comforting.
Let's do this thing? A smile briefly crosses her lips, a half-hearted and forced effort, at best. Lifting her head a slight touch, she draws her eyes to a close and simply replies with:
"Very well. Let us begin."
Elisabeth makes no immediate move. Instead she lifts a hand as she watches both, gesturing at both women with another tiny grin. The party-goers, on the other hand, have since quieted, forming a large circle around the three women as they watch on with eager eyes. This should be...interesting, to say the very least.
COMBATSYS: Elisabeth focuses on her next action.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ingrid
> //////////////////////////////]
|-------\-------\0 Elle
Ah yes. High society. Pomp and circumstance and the overriding desire to cover up the fact that the human condition is pretty crappy when you don't have a dime to your name. Not that Elle's as poor as she used to be. Still, the fact that she's the odd-man-out as it were just makes her roll her eyes and want to get this nonsense over quickly. With a grumble of irritation, she reaches up and grabs one of the mike stands off the stage, swinging it around experimentally.
It has a nice weight to it. It'll do.
"Is this thing on? Hello? Testing, testing." The woman speaks flatly, and then lets out a screeching sound that might be a 'YEAH!', or it might be stomach poisoning. It's hard to tell really, as she launches into a Black Sabbath song. To refined ears, it sounds like she's vomiting up a lung. Thankfully, such noise seems to go over well with young teenage boys who get a general kick out of the fact that Elle's channeling the energy of the 'music' into a static charge that's running down the mike stand. She swings the metal pole around at a crescendo, and snaps off a long arc or electricity as if it's a magic wand towards Elisabeth.
Ingrid is getting the impression that Elle considers this whole affair much ado about nothing. Still she fights to keep herself from smiling a bit too big or letting out a little laugh, not because she thinks it's especially funny that she's annoyed by the elegance, but more that she's holding herself back from being even more rude about it. Elisabeth is being careful and attentive, and Elle is taking the opposite approach; which appears to be screaming into a microphone. Ingrid winces at the sheer volume produced, having to mentally restrain herself to keep from flinging her hands over her ears.
Ingrid herself seems to be taking Elisabeth's approach, however, standing back and assessing the situation from a tactical standpoint. If it's a two on one match then surely Elisabeth must be powerful, and she doesn't want to rush in before knowing what she's getting herself into. That'd be a good way to get herself smacked hard and laid out on the ground, and then she'd be no use to Elle at all.
COMBATSYS: Ingrid focuses on her next action.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ingrid
> //////////////////////////// ]
|-------\-------\0 Elle
COMBATSYS: Elisabeth dodges Elle's Pure Energy.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ingrid
> //////////////////////////// ]
|-------\-------\0 Elle
There's a particular air about Elle that the Blanctorche heiress picks up on, but does not address whatsoever. The feeling of contempt for women of her, and perhaps her partner Ingrid, caliber is nearly palpable. ..but does it really matter in a function such as this? They come together to simply fight, nothing more, nothing less. As far as Elisabeth is concerned, well...there's no hard feelings toward the songstress.
It's not to say that her methods are a touch...unique. As the woman grabs the microphone stand there's a brief and vague look of utter bemusement on her fair features. At the sight of that electrical arc, however, the woman seems even more perplexed. It doesn't last, however.
Noting the arc of energy, the woman shifts her weight and dodges swiftly to one side, avoiding it outright. Her pursuit takes her after the songstress with an attitude the younger boys present seem to love. If Ingrid will remain aside and out of the affair for the time being, fine. She'll deal with the girl when the time comes.
Zeroing in on Elle, the Frenchwoman swiftly plants her heel and withdraws a crop from her hip, lifting it up and whipping it toward the woman. The first blow attempts to smack that microphone stand aside; the other, however, seeks to strike her fiercely across the chest from left shoulder to right hip.
COMBATSYS: Elisabeth successfully hits Elle with Strong Punch.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ingrid
> ///////////////////////// ]
|==-----\-------\0 Elle
Well, sure. Elle hates all the cordiality and the reservation that being polite entails. But then again she hates everything, including but not limited to: old people, kids, dogs, the DMV, light beer, whole grain bread, and those annoying little tags that come in new shirts that make you insanely itchy to the point where you spend the entire day with your hand down the back of your shirt trying to tear it off and looking like an idiot. So, on the grand scheme of things, being polite fits firmly between toe fungus and public transportation.
At any rate, Elle's short lived performance is cut off as Elisbeth cracks the whip, or the crop as the case may be, smacking the metal pole away and whacking the dark skinned woman across the face. The blow causes Elle to stagger backwards. While the strike did some damage, it seems to have done less pain than it should have. Rolling her head back into place, Elle rubs her jaw with a grumble. Not a good sign if she was messing up this early. That's what she gets for trying to lean into the blow and be clever.
Enough ruminating. The rocker retaliates without much though, flinging a fist at Elisabeth's face, her hand sparking with energy as she attempts to catch the woman in her constantly upturned nose.
Ingrid decides that it's time to make her move. Elisabeth is preoccupied with Elle, smacking her with a riding crop, and Elle is retaliating in kind, giving Ingrid a front row seat to a spectacular show. Except there's an itsy problem, she's a part of the show as well! She isn't going to simply stand and observe any longer, moving forward rather calmly and letting Elle take care of the ferocity. A punch to the face with a fist full of energy is hopefully enough to draw Elisabeth's attention, because Ingrid is suddenly beside her, her arms raised up and coming down in a perfectly diagonal motion, attacking at a right angle to Elle and releasing a large swath of sparkling golden energy upon Elisabeth. The angle is such that Elle is in no danger. She was already warned of that!
COMBATSYS: Elisabeth endures Elle's Some Like It Hot.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Ingrid
> //////////////////////// ]
|===----\-------\0 Elle
COMBATSYS: Elisabeth fails to interrupt Sunbeam from Ingrid with Etancher.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Ingrid
> //////////////////////// ]
|===----\-------\0 Elle
With a swift blow the dark-skinned rocker is struck across the face after swiftly knocking her microphone stand aside. And, despite the blow, the heiress makes no immediate moves to get away; in fact, the woman simply looks to one side, an eye shot toward the young, white-haired girl as she seems to be moving forward. Caught between a proverbial rock and a hard place.
Narrowing her eyes, the woman simply grits her teeth and takes that fist to her face, though her head turns, the blow absorbed in her cheek. Following this turn, the woman pivots on her heel and unsheathes her crop, attempting to plow through that energy soaring at her, but to no avail; struck, the Frenchwoman staggers lightly, shaking her head softly before she simply exhales.
A touch daunting, but nothing to rock her off her game entirely.
Ingrid comes in like a missile. A gold missile. A gold, sparkly missile that /couldn't be more girly/ unless it come with streamers and My Little Pony Figurines. Nevertheless, girly or not, the attack seems to beat the motherloving stuffing out of Elisabeth compared to her paltry shock-punch she sent to the noblewoman's face. Elle lets out an apprciative whistle. The very sight of Ingrid may arouse enough bile to melt her teeth, but she knows a good hit shen she sees it, and she tosses off a small, lackadasical salute to Ingrid as she goes sailing past.
Still, that initial volley and exchange has sucked a lot of power from her. Time to kick things up a notch. This time, she charges the stage, leaping back up with a thud. The woman grabs the electric guitar propped up on the speaker behind her, and straps the Jagstang on like a pro.
"HEY SAVANNAH!" Elle smirks, slipping a cigarette between her lips as she bangs out a chord, the stage shuddering under the unusually powerful sound.
"ARE YOU READY TO ROCK!?" A cheer issues forth from the younger crowd as Elle breaks into the opening chords of 'I Hate Myself For Loving You', building up a corona of electricity about her body, igniting her cigarette and powering her up as Ingrid seems to have the matter well in hand. For now.
COMBATSYS: Elle focuses on her next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Ingrid
> ///////////////////////// ]
|===----\-------\0 Elle
If there was any worry in Ingrid's mind about whether or not Elisabeth was going to plow straight through her energy and smack her down, she doesn't show it. A casual smile is on her face, eyes flicking quickly to the side as Elle goes to pump herself up and rile the crowd up as well. She must be up to something, considering how much she wanted to start the fight and put the pleasantries aside.
So that leaves Ingrid to face down Elisabeth alone. She gives the frenchwoman a small smile, and then quickly pulls one arm back and then swings it forward, a glittery trail of energy following her hand as a large ball of shining psycho power forms and arcs lazily towards her. That last attack seemed to have quite an effect, so she may as well keep the pressure on.
COMBATSYS: Elisabeth negates Sun Shot from Ingrid with Large Thrown Object.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Ingrid
> ///////////////////////// ]
|===----\-------\0 Elle
For the interium, it would seem that Elle stands back as her ally pushes forward with the assault. Very well; adjusting her strategy accordingly, the woman pivots on her heel and fully faces the younger woman with a stern gaze. Where before Elisabeth met the young Psion with a rather accepting air, now it seems entirely about business.
Elle leaps onto stage, and the heiress turns her head only slightly, observing the dark-skinned woman with a brief glance. She's going to sing? Fine. That doesn't bother her in the least. What bothers her is that burst of Psycho Power flickering from Ingrid's hands and spiraling toward her. The tiniest of grins happens its way across the heiress' face.
The felled microphone stand once in the employ of Elle is given a glance toward as that golden sphere comes sailing her way. A foot stirs, her boot sliding under its metallic neck before she lifts her leg, kicking it into the air before a hand snaps out and snags it. Again the woman moves; jerking forward quite suddenly, the mic stand's large bottom is sent sailing forward, crashing into that energy sphere and otherwise causing it to snuff out in a brilliant display of light between the young fighter and the elder Frenchwoman.
The performance is, as to be expected, loud, racous and made to keep the crowd entertained. After all, it's all a show, right? Elle is getting paid one way or another, and if SNF isn't going to foot the bill, then she's going to make sure that the State of Georgia pays for her stay. Chord after chord is pounded out during her truncated version of the song as she keeps an eye on the battle in front of her.
A Joan Jett medley is on the menu, as she switches gears.
"Hello daddy, hello mom! I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb! o/~"
And with that, Elle launchs herself from the stage, as if diving into the crowd. However, she gets a little more height, and she brings her guitar with her, as she goes into an overhead smash with the instrument, attempting to brain the Frenchwoman with it.
Oh, how interesting! It seems that throwing globs of energy at Elisabeth isn't going to work out terribly well for Ingrid, as a handy microphone stand ends up obliterating it before it can make contact. The young woman lifts a hand to her hair and straightens it easily, still smiling. "I suppose that isn't going to work, I guess a more direct approach, then?" Oh good, Elle's back in the mix, and apparently trying to simply brutalize the top of Elisabeth's head. Ingrid takes a short moment to think about what she should do, and then with a humorous grin steps forward and lays out another large swath of energy upon Elisabeth. It makes one wonder... is she just a battery, or something?
COMBATSYS: Elisabeth blocks Elle's Fierce Strike.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Ingrid
> ////////////////////////// ]
|===----\-------\0 Elle
COMBATSYS: Ingrid successfully hits Elisabeth with Sunbeam.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/--=====|===----\-------\0 Ingrid
> ////////////////////////// ]
|===----\-------\0 Elle
The crowd around Elisabeth is easily tuned out. The heiress is focused, intent on her two opponents now as she faces them down. Truthfully, this is utterly unfamiliar to the woman, something entirely different and alien, but it's not going to make her give any less than necessary. That would insult the Frenchwoman, as well as the two women who volunteered for this little soiree.
Another eye is cast toward Elle as she suddenly leaps off the stage, incoming at the Blanctorche heiress. Slender arms rise up, folding neatly overhead and accepting the brunt of the blow from that instrument on her forearms. It stings a little, but the woman seems otherwise alright - so much so she simply pushes forward and shoves the songstress off of her.
Unfortunately, it doesn't give her enough time to intercept the incoming strike from Ingrid. Struck, the woman staggers a bit, shaking her head softly as she shakes off the discomfort. Frowning lightly, the woman drops her hand to her side and grabs a firm hold of her crop's hilt. Again it's unsheathed and thrust forward; unlike before, however, the heiress sends out five points of blindingly white light at the girl, to hopefully send HER staggering back in kind.
COMBATSYS: Elisabeth successfully hits Ingrid with Grand Etancher.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-======|=======\==-----\1 Ingrid
> ////////////////////////// ]
|===----\-------\0 Elle
Pushed aside, Elle is content to let Ingrid take the spotlight in the battle as her magical mystery lightshow seems tomelt Elisabeth like butter out in the sun. Elle is more than happy to not do any work at all, in fact, and so she backs off, staying clear of Elisabeth so she doesn't get caught by the eventual retaliation. The rocker knows full well that Elisabeth won't stand to get smacked around this bad for long.
Instead, she tunes her guitar, the blow having knocked it out of alignment somewhat. Jagstangs aren't really made to be a battering weapon. She takes a drag from her cigarette, exhaling from her nose. "Lemme know if you need a hand there, kiddo." She says with a half smile, the chords beginning to rise from the guitar again and speed up accordingly. A little Dick Dale surf rock this time, to please the older people in the crowd.
COMBATSYS: Elle gathers her will.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-======|=======\==-----\1 Ingrid
> /////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Elle
Ingrid's attack strikes true, thrashing on Elisabeth until the energy fades away into nothingness. Unfortunately, this time there's retaliation that she can't stop, the beams of light streaking out and striking true, sending Ingrid flying backwards as she lets out a cry and hits the ground rolling. The impact might have been quite a bit more than expected, but it seems that whatever weakness Elisabeth has to Ingrid's energy is mirrored, Ingrid being just as weak to that which is used by the heiress. She picks herself up off the ground and shakes her head a little. Yep, that hurt. And Ingrid doesn't look to be taking center stage away from Elle, simply staying back and trying to recuperate from the hit. She's a bit dizzy.
COMBATSYS: Ingrid gains composure.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-======|=======\=------\1 Ingrid
> /////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Elle
While Elle may harbor a certain dislike for the heiress simply because of her noble standing, there's one thing, however, the woman can appreciate. And that's the fact she employs in combat a certain sense of uniqueness by wielding both an instrument, as well as her voice. Certainly, it's something very alien to the Frenchwoman, and, despite conflicting feelings between the two fighters, she can appreciate that.
Her features, however, remain stern and otherwise expressionless.
Again, it would seem Elle is not a threat here; instead she tunes her guitar and stands aside, but so too does Ingrid. Furrowing her brows, the heiress' head tilts lightly to one side as she simply observes both women, even going so far as to take a few steps back and simply places either fighter better in her line of sight. Why? So she can get a better feel for a particularly hairy situation, if any at all.
COMBATSYS: Elisabeth focuses on her next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-======|=======\=------\1 Ingrid
> /////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Elle
It's a Mexican standoff as all three fighters step back. Elisabeth to figure out what the hell is going on, Ingrid to recover from the destructive counterattack, and Elle... Elle... just to kick back and be lazy, really. She could be pressing the attack, pouring it on Elisabeth, and trying to go for the jugular or at least /try/. Instead she pauses for a moment and considers.
She turns to the crowd. "Hey! What the hell? Who came here for some action tonight? That's right!" She raises her hands in the air. "Let's make some noise here for Ingrid! She just got the stuffing knocked the hell out of her, and you're not making /any/ noise at all? What are you? You're as exciteable as my grandma! The one in the convalescent home!"
With that, she starts to raise cheers. The noise is hideous, really, almost unbearable as Elle's effect on the crowd just seems to give the rocker a little something extra. "Ingrid, everyone! Ingrid! Ingrid!"
Elle turns to the younger girl with a broad, toothy grin showing off too-white teeth as the whole damn party seems to be rooting for the young girl. "Go get 'em, Princess Leia," Elle says, giving her the thumbs up.
COMBATSYS: Elle assists Ingrid.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-======|=======\=------\1 Ingrid
> /////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Elle
Well this /is/ an interesting predicament. Elisabeth is standing there waiting for one or the other of the fighters to come after her, or such is Ingrid's belief, and Elle is cheering her on and telling her to rush in and attack! The question is: What is the prudent course of action? As nice as it would be to be gung ho and run in and smash, Ingrid simply wouldn't survive very long in a straight up brawl against the French woman. But at the same time, now her teammate is depending on her! She's been put in quite the pickle. Luckily she has an ace up her sleeve. ...or rather, she has a way to weasel out of a straight up confrontation. A bright flash surrounds her in the form of a symbol, the very same as the one on her hair ornaments, and she raises her hands up below her chin, palms up. A dull little sphere of energy forms above her hands, and she blows on it, sending it floating rather innocuously towards Elisabeth. Big things come in small packages, though!
COMBATSYS: Elisabeth dodges Ingrid's Sun Burst.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-======|=------\-------\0 Ingrid
> /////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Elle
Well.
Elisabeth's features shift slightly as there comes a peculiar cry from the nearby stage, fair features poised in an expression of mild disbelief. Elle, a woman who seemed to express dislike for not only the Frenchwoman, but a certain dislike for her partner as well. And now she's getting the crowd to cheer her on?
Shaking her head slowly, the dark-haired woman exhales a soft breath, lips stirring lightly as she simply mumbles, "Mon dieu." What has she gotten herself into with these fights? At least it's good to see that the teammates are actually working together.
Unlike before, however, Elisabeth's a little readier than last. Narrowing her eyes as the girl lifts her hands, a glorious display of golden Psycho Power, she keeps an eye closely on that incoming sphere, and, at the last minute, swerves to one side, her entire body shifting out of its way altogether. She wastes no time, either - barrelling forward, Elisabeth leaps high into the air, her arc bringing her in at Ingrid. As she comes down, both heels whip out, to strike the girl soundly in the chest and ground her.
Elle turns around just in time to see Elisabeth dodge the incoming attack and rolls her neck languidly with a yawn. Well, it would probably be a good idea to get back into the fray while the crowd is hot. Cracking her knuckles, she almost casually walks over to Ingrid's position as she watches Elisabeth leap into the sky.
As the French woman descends from above, Elle weighs her options. With a mighty heave, she hurls the guitar she had strapped around her shoulder... the one that costs a good $2,000.00, and flings it up at the incoming fighter's face with a grimace.
Good thing it's not her stick. Still, it feels pretty terrible to let such a fine guitar go to waste.
COMBATSYS: Ingrid fails to counter Heavy Kick from Elisabeth with Sun Upper.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Ingrid
> //////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Elle
Eep.
It looks like Ingrid's effort to blast Elisabeth with her energy has failed, the little orb detonating a while after Elisabeth passes it by and harming nothing at all. But now Ingrid has bigger problems on her hands; namely that Elisabeth is coming barreling towards her, and from above too! She concentrates for a moment and then hops backwards, quickly leaning forward and pointing in the air in front of her to summon up a disk of energy, hoping to catch Elisabeth with it. But she didn't move back enough, the extended feet striking true and slipping between the disk and Ingrid's body, smashing into her chest and flinging her backwards, the young woman once again tumbling along the ground and becoming quite dizzy. She picks herself back up, a little more slowly this time, and gives a weak smile. That one hurt.
COMBATSYS: Elisabeth dodges Elle's Thrown Object.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Ingrid
> //////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Elle
Pressing her attack, Elisabeth's on the move the moment she's out of the way of that potentially painful burst of Psycho Power. Leaping high, the Frenchwoman lashes her legs out, coming down on Ingrid with a fierce and particularly brutal assault, her boot's heels digging against the girl's chest, despite her attempts to supply a suitable counterattack seconds before. The moment those polished black books bite into the girl she presses, hopping off...
Just in time to see Elle come behind with that guitar of hers.
Blinking once, the heiress simply pushes off her heels and avoids the guitar altogether, the two-grand instrument slicing through empty air. The heiress, however, wastes no time thereafter. Snapping her dark blues back onto poor Ingrid, the woman bursts forward again, pausing only to thrust her right leg out toward Ingrid's gut, to knock her back again.
It would seem that Elle's been less than effective thus far. Almost everything she's tossed at Elisabeth is either handled easily, blocked, or misses wide. A look of mild irritation crosses the woman's face. Maybe it's far too late for her to be serious about this now, but letting her teammate get irresponsibly mauled just because she's being a lazy bitch is nagging on the shred of concience she has left.
She's not about to fool herself, though. Elisabeth is going to go after the weaker target until it's stopped moving. The most Elle will be able to do now is fire at the other woman's flanks in an attempt to chisle her down a bit. She breaks into a run, picking up the pace as she chases after the Frenchwoman with slightly renewed purpose and an arm cocked back. She can't keep dodging forever, can she? Out of fancier options... or perhaps unwilling to unleash them, she lets fly with a straight punch towards the back of Elisabeth's head.
COMBATSYS: Ingrid dodges Elisabeth's Light Kick.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Elisabeth 1/-----==/=======|=====--\-------\0 Ingrid
> //////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Elle
Ingrid decides not to stick around for the kick this time. If routing and counterattacking isn't going to work the clear option is to get the hell away from her. And that's exactly what the young Norwegian does, not waiting until the last moment like Elisabeth did to her latest ball of energy, but simply back flipping away several times, putting as much distance between the two as she can. Hopefully that'll keep Elisabeth's eyes on her so that Elle can smack her in the back of her head. For now Ingrid is going to look for openings. Her eyes weren't sharp enough to tell her that her counterattack was going to fail, and it was that focus that allowed her to be so effective early on. Time to get that back.
COMBATSYS: Ingrid focuses on her next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Elisabeth 1/-----==/=======|=====--\-------\0 Ingrid
> //////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Elle
COMBATSYS: Elisabeth blocks Elle's Medium Strike.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Elisabeth 1/----===/=======|=====--\-------\0 Ingrid
> //////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Elle
It would seem Elle's judgment of the situation is correct; not wasting any time, the Blanctorche heiress blazes forward and attempts to kick the girl back, to send her down and hopefully out of commission. While Elle might FEEL she's been overall ineffective, it's quite the contrary, really. She's been hindering the woman a bit with her attacks, making it difficult to focus completely.
That doesn't keep her from trying, however.
Furrowing her brows, the heiress tilts her head the moment her boot's heel eats empty air, but quickly recoils her leg. The sound of footfalls from behind, however, earns the woman's interests. Thus does she half-turn on a sharp heel and lifts a hand, intercepting that blow in the palm of her hand. Eyes narrow a bit as the OTHER hand lashes out and grips the hilt of the crop strapped to her side. Is she..?
Giving Elle a brisk shove, the woman pivots again and about-faces, unsheathing that crop and sending three points of scalding, bright-white chi energy sailing toward poor Ingrid.
Elle's not a monster on the battlefield, and her combat skills are piss-poor due to the fact that she's a lazy whore who thinks mostly about when she'll be able to take a nap and what she's going to be eating for dinner. It's a wonder she doesn't weigh in at two hundred pounds. Luckily, she's blessed with a metabolism that burns cheeseburgers like cellophane, and she can control her weight easily by simply being too lazy to eat. However, this lackadaical attitude tends to get her in trouble when she actually semi-cares about something.
Shoved aside by Elisabeth, she's starting to get a little annoyed. It's not that she needs the acknowledgement or attention... it's more along the lines of the fact that consistantly missing is starting to wear thin on her nerves. Her eyes narrow. Elisabeth and Elle have one thing in common. They're both cold-hearted bitches when it comes down to it. Elle knows insults and jibes roll off the other like water from a duck's back.
But they sure as hell make her feel a lot better.
"Hey, Eurotrash," she says flatly, jogging in another direction. "Welcome to the Dirty South." The woman returns an eyeblink later with a pot of something. "I couldn't find anything as nasty as snails... but a gallon of deep fried chitlins should do it..." She sasy to herself as she hurls the boiling pot of oil, pig innards and other armoatic ingredients at Elisabeth with a grunt.
COMBATSYS: Ingrid negates Etancher from Elisabeth with Sun Shot.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Elisabeth 1/----===/=======|=====--\-------\0 Ingrid
> //////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Elle
Ingrid has been flinging energy around the entire fight, and it's really starting to catch up to her now. She sees Elisabeth shooting more beams of light at her, and in reaction she flings her hand forward in an underhand motion and releases a large ball of shining golden energy, which is promptly obliterated by the beams. Luckily, none of them survived and the explosion was far away enough from her that she's unharmed. But perhaps the more important detail is how much Ingrid is breathing. It takes a /lot/ for her to really wind herself, having become a master of precise control of her energy and knowing exactly how much to use. But even with that control she can be worn down, and now there's a bit of sweat on her brow to prove it.
COMBATSYS: Elle successfully hits Elisabeth with Random Weapon.
Glancing Blow
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Elisabeth 1/---====/=======|=====--\-------\0 Ingrid
> //////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Elle
Thrusting that crop forward, the heiress attempts to send a slice of chi energies barreling her way. The girl, however, takes it like a champ; meeting the burst of energy halfway with one of her own, the energies are both negated, either woman's attempt otherwise nullified. Frowning a soft bit, the heiress just tilts her head softly. The kid is worn out, but remains tenacious. Interesting...
A shrill cry from over the woman's shoulder causes the heiress to blink once before she purses her lips, her head turning aside to gaze at Elle. Noting the hefted pot, the woman smirks ever so faintly before she's treated to incoming pig innards. Swift footing avoids the bulk of nastiness, save for a scant few remains, which land on bare skin and earn a soft hiss from the Frenchwoman. How uncouth.
"Enough," the woman says finally, her voice loud and authoritative. Looking between both fighters, those dark eyes fix on poor Ingrid. "I applaud your tenacity, mademoiselle, but I fear it is time we end this soiree." Her patience is running desperately thin, and her attire was very nearly ruined.
A burst of light springs forth from the heiress' hand. Without a single word more she darts forward at poor winded Ingrid and thrusts a fist out. Whether or not it hits, the air around her electrifies and bursts to life with numerous points of chi energy, to catch whatever may be in its way and juggle it about fiercely.
Couthness, thy name is not Elle. No, she's not what you'd call a graceful woman, nor any kind of girl a man would take home to mother unless said man wanted to make his mother keel over and die of a heart attack. Elle is crude, foul mouthed, brazen, and if her morals were pants, they'd be around her ankles. Nevertheless, as she watches the bucket of pig intestines splatter acorss the ground a scant distance away, she jolts forward.
Nothing fancy, nothing clever. All she needs to do now is to keep the Frenchy off her footing and maybe buy Ingrid a few more seconds. Leaping forward, she goes into a shoulder ram, trying to push Elisabeth off balance by just enough.
COMBATSYS: Elisabeth successfully hits Ingrid with Noble Brass.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-------|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Ingrid
> ///////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Elle
In a valiant effort not to get horribly creamed by bursts of energy, Ingrid bends down and then throws herself high up into the air, trying to avoid the attack if at all possible. Unfortunately it's just... just not enough. She barely makes it off the ground before the barrage comes, tearing into her and tossing her about in the air in what would probably be a very fun way if it weren't for the horrible, excruciating pain involved in being blasted by large amounts of energy. She comes crashing down to the ground afterwards, landing with a dull thump. She barely seems to be moving, but she lifts her head and looks at Elisabeth. One more try...
A bright flash surrounds her, and this time rather than making a ball of energy Ingrid lifts a hand weakly and points, summoning up every last bit of energy that she can and forming a triangle of energy that serves as an amplifier, and then a huge disk of swirling energy that forms, you guessed it, right where Elisabeth is currently standing. If it connects it'll drag her up into the air while tearing at her before dropping her to the ground. Regardless, Ingrid goes limp. Not knocked out, but too hurt to even want to get up just yet.
COMBATSYS: Ingrid can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/-------|=======\-------\0 Elle
COMBATSYS: Ingrid successfully hits Elisabeth with Sun Delta.
[ \\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\0 Elle
COMBATSYS: Elle successfully hits Elisabeth with Quick Throw.
[ \\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Elisabeth 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\0 Elle
Well, this is a particularly crappy mess. First, Elle is coming up behind the heiress as the lights fade, while Ingrid is charging up to throw a blast of energy for her. Furrowing her brows, the Heiress does what she feel is best. Try to dodge.
Only, Elle strikes her and sends her forward, RIGHT into that blast. Juggled about, the woman looks particularly unpleasant as she's struck, just before it fades. Staggering, the woman slowly turns around and faces Elle. With a tiny grin.
"I'm afraid I cannot fight much longer," she states, a certain sternness in her voice, despite the fact she's on her last leg. Furrowing her brows, the woman charges forward and dips low, a last-ditch attempt to uppercut Elle fiercely in her jaw before she simply crumples to her knees.
COMBATSYS: Elisabeth can no longer fight.
> ///////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Elle
COMBATSYS: Elle dodges Elisabeth's Coup de Veine.
> ///////////////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Elle
Ell wins! Okay, not so much /wins/ as survives the fight without dying. That's the same thing, isn't it? As Elisabeth fires her last attack off, Elle steps backward, and lets the French woman thud nto the ground like a sack of potatoes. She sniffs once, rubs her nose, and blinks. Huh.
The crowd is cheering, and doing what crowds do, but she's not really sure what happens now. She's never actually /won/ one of these things before, and so the proper way to behave isn't registering with her at all. So she does what she does best: be a bitch.
Turning around, she looks at the crowd, and grabs some poor kid's juice box. Apple juice. Perfect. Wandering over to the unconcious Elisabeth with her nice white outfit, she pours apple juice on her, which leaves a lovely yellow stain.
And, with further consideration, she pours the rest of it on Ingrid.
Score!
Now, to collect her damn money and leave.
COMBATSYS: Elle has ended the fight here.
Log created by Elisabeth, and last modified on 06:10:10 03/07/2007.