Description: Mr. Big and Rolento make a bet. Which of their loyal people will win in combat?
The sun begins to fall on the beaches of Southtown, the orange and pink hues of the sky dancing on the water's surface, drowning out the deep blue cast that now only hides only in the shadows within the waves. Seabirds circle overhead, eying schools of fish within the depths and contemplating one last meal before the darkness sets in. The sands shimmer in the light, their windswept dunes curving gently across the whole of the beach. Footprints of children and their parents mark the sand lightly, providing the rare proof of human inhabitance. For once, this beach is serene. For now.
As the surf gently laps against the sands, a figure emerges from the water. Her head out of the waves, she removes both goggles and a snorkel from her face, whipping her saturated hair back as the band clears her locks. Both her black and silver spring suit and her deeply tanned skin glisten in the sun as water begins to slowly bead off her form. Slowly trodding out of the sea, she heads for a beach towel in the sand, tossing her gear onto the cotton surface. With a contented sigh, she turns, looking at the sea with a blissful smile. The weather finally was nice enough to warrant a swim in the waters off the beach, and Leilani Ke'ekikolani desperately needed the caress of the ocean to soothe her mind.
But one last thing slightly nags at her. There was something else she had to do here today. What was it, again? Ah, yes. The bet. Pulling her hair back and wringing out excess water, she quietly hopes that the man she was told she needed to confront didn't miss her amongst the waves. For that would be a shame.
Yes, yes. The bet.
Predictably enough, Nassir was ecstatic over the idea that Rolento's hadn't forgotten about the young mercenary. As a loyal and dedicated member of his army as well as a believer in the cause, being chosen to display his skills against a member of the Syndicate's entourage meant the world to him. Despite failure against Sergeants within the U.S.P.L, he would receive the chance for some degree of redemption.
But then the ugly details would surface.
It may be no surprise that despite the frightening degree of efficiency that the USPL displayed in their duties, they had ample time to gossip. Indeed, it might be because of that efficiency that the in-house rumor mill was generally accurate. One hundred thousand dollars hung in the balance, depending on the outcome of their sparring. Rolento's manboy versus Mr. Big's mangirl. The money was a drop in the bucket of USPL coffers, and Nassir could only assume that the situation was similar with Geese's lieutenant. It was, ultimately, equal to two work colleagues betting five bucks on the outcome of a hockey game.
So, then, as Nassir plodded noisily along the end of the boardwalk, he had much to long to mull this over. Was this to enhance his training and usefulness, or was he quietly demoted to the position of base entertainment? Who was his opponent, this Leilani, anyways? Why her?
Stepping down from the boardwalk and onto the beach sands, his boots left firm imprints with each step. Nassir adjusted about as well as he could to the concept of the female fighter, as common as they were in Japan and abound. He adjusted about as well as he could to the concept that their prowess easily overshadowed his own, and in his year away from his homeland he's made about as much peace with it as he could--which is to say, it didn't fill him with near-suicidal grief or homicidal rage anymore.
Letting his gaze pan from left to right, Nassir's eyes found the break in the waves, the cotton blanket, and the woman who used them.
<...>
While usually on the quieter side of things anyways, Nassir found himself well and truly speechless. The woman was, for better or worse, an exotic brand of beautifu...
<..no. Not beautiful. Lust inducing. Remember yourself, Nassir.>
The words were whispered, likely lost beneath the shifting movement of waves and hips, and obscured by a foreign language besides. Clearing his throat, the soldier called out a louder greeting in a language likely shared between the two of them: Engrish.
"Good evening, ma'am."
Turning around, the Hawai'ian's eyes lock onto the young Arab, a smile rapidly crossing her face. "Aloha," she coos, her eyes batting at the youth. An obvious outsider, the man before her obviously must be her opponent for the evening. The uniform just shouts at the mercenary army that Rolento heads up... Leaning her head back and shaking out her hair, the woman runs her hands down her sides, stretching a little as they make their way down. The slightest hint of a breathy moan accompanies her movements.
It's a distraction technique. But one used with such ease and apparent unconsciousness of movement that it seems to be totally natural. Leilani knows her strengths, and how best to exploit them.
Gently brushing water from her face, she smiles widely again, head tilting to the side slightly. "You must be..." she says before pausing, her lower lip curling in to get caught by her teeth as a flash of confusion crosses her face. "Please excuse me, but I forgot your name. Daddy only told me about this little 'event' last night." A brief chuckle escapes her lips, hand coming up to cover her mouth. "My name's Leilani. I hope to put up a decent fight for you."
Trained to be perceptive in manners that a natural inquisitiveness doesn't /entirely/ cover, it can be practically assured that neither of these traits are necessary to notice the little things that Leilani does reflexively. While Nassir wouldn't be able to neatly categorize each coo and moan, he knew what the sum of the parts equalled...
...or at least, what they equalled for him. Certainly, Leilani wasn't the first attractive woman Nassir'd come across--she was, however, the first one who didn't immeadiately put themselves at odds with the mercenary, attempt to kill him, or outright assault his sense of right and wrong with feminist ramblings. As such, it made things particularly...awkward.
Sharply nodding once Leilani finishes talking, Nassir's voice doesn't quite match with the finality and authority he was shooting for. "Your Father?"
A knowing smile crosses the Hawai'ian's face. "Oh, no, honey," she says, running her fingers through her hair. Capturing her lower lip between her teeth coyly, her eyebrows flicker upwards before she says, "I'm talking about Mr. Big." Licking her lips, she looks the man over one more time before stepping closer to Nassir.
Precariously close, in fact. Inches away, she breathes, "So, shall we get this little... thing... out of the way?" A finger reaches up slowly, hooking a circular zipper pull and pulling it down, the teeth ticking audibly as it slowly moves down, revealing cleavage as the seam opens deeper.
"Maybe other things can happen... later..."
/...Nice./
Nassir listens to the explanation, acknowledging the clarification with a singular nod. "I see," come the words, whispering free from his lips. Perhaps only aware of the proximity once mention of the fight is made, Nassir's eyes snap back into a battle-wary readiness. "Yes. Well."
Hopping backwards, Nassir's hands quickly brush down along his bandoliers, his right one pausing on a small metal orb. It's easy enough to guess at what that orb might be, especially with the pin prominently visible. "I hope you are prepared for this. Be forewarned that our training routines use live ammunition--Anything less does disservice."
There's no immeadiate attack from the mercenary, either allowing Leilani the first strike or the opportunity for a retort.
COMBATSYS: Nassir has started a fight here.
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Nassir 0/-------/-------|
Leilani has reconnected.
COMBATSYS: Leilani has joined the fight here.
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Nassir 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Leilani
Good.
As Nassir hops back, the Hawai'ian follows suit, smiling to herself. If he fell for the bait, he's at least got a different mindset about combat, at least on the surface. This is good. It should make sure that the fight is worthwhile.
Cracking her knuckles, she curls her tongue out, resting against the edge of her front teeth, eyebrows flickering up as she eyes the hand grenade. "Chee, live ammo," she says softly. "It's like you're trying to kill yourself or something."
With that statement, Leilani sets herself into some kind of combat stance. Or a dance stance. It's hard to tell, but with the movements of her hands and feet, it's clearly recognizable to anyone whom has seen anything on the traditional dance of Hawai'i. She doesn't seem to be taking up an attack, but certainly is looking her opponent over.
COMBATSYS: Leilani takes no action.
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Nassir 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Leilani
Leilani has dropped a connection.
Leilani has dropped a connection.
"No. I have little interest in dying until the mission has been accomplished, and the world righted." Nassir's lips curl into a less-than-subtle frown, as apparently something about the line of conversation set the youth off. Wholly unfamiliar with the smooth, dancelike nature of Leilani's style, Nassir took it about as seriously as he could--expecting some kind of duplicity, expecting an unexpected mode of attack.
"Hrn!"
Kicking up small plumes of sand and dust as he moves, Nassir began a sidestrafing attempt, setting himself to roughly three yards in distance before unclipping the foreshadowed grenade. With an underhanded lob, the orb spun through the air--ideally setting near his quarry before the inevitable explosion.
COMBATSYS: Leilani overcomes Scorch the Earth from Nassir with Waterspout.
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Nassir 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Leilani
Foot out. Twist it slightly. Hand forward, palm out. Move hand diagonally, hand out straight, palm facing back. Reverse foot position. Bring opposite hand up. Slap palms together at the midpoint. It's simply the beginning of a dance, and yet, it does conceal the woman's thoughts and actions.
As Nassir runs forward, Leilani brings both her feet together, bending down at the knees, dragging a line in the sand with her fingers, her hand rigid and palm up. When the pin is pulled on the grenade, she steps forward, twisting her hand up into the air towards the young Arab. From the sand, a swirling plume of water erupts, swallowing the grenade as it starts towards her opponent. Perhaps that explosion will be a little closer to Nassir than he wanted it to be. It'll certainly be far enough away from her to have it not be a problem.
COMBATSYS: Nassir dodges Leilani's Waterspout.
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Nassir 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Leilani
Well, what do you know? Nassir was right.
Taken in and of itself, Nassir could've appreciated the dancelike combat style as pure entertainment. It looked ornate enough, and as such the young mercenary could enjoy it--nevermind the performer. It wasn't enough to dissuade him from initiating combat though, and as such it gave him opportunity to bear witness to a unique brand of counterattack. Conjuring water? That was new.
As would be expected, the grenade still explodes, spraying shrapnel indiscriminately. Just because the projectile didn't end where he wanted didn't mean that the ordnance would find some kind of sympathy for it's owner or bearer. Luckily enough for both combatants, the explosion was small. Lucky for Nassir, his strafing movement put him well out of the way as well.
Rather than continue to push the attack, Nassir ran: Circles, if he could, around Big's woman, looking for an angle to easily exploit.
COMBATSYS: Nassir focuses on his next action.
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Nassir 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Leilani
One of the nice things about having a style that can be hidden within a dance... If someone starts to circle you, you can keep up with the turns and not look like you're about to strike. Even with shrapnel hitting the sand around her from the grenade, she maintains the dance, even if the lyrical nature of the movements are long lost on the combat.
Leilani spins on one foot in the opposite direction, gyrating her hips as she moves, the action a little more Latin than Hawai'ian, and it briefly exposes her back to the circling Arab. When she repeats the motion, however, it is far faster, and she drops into a crouch whilst doing so. Her foot digs deep into the sand, causing a spray of sand, seashells and shrapnel to go flying in Nassir's general direction.
Hopefully, there will be something more than just grenades coming from the young mercenary. The Shark certainly hopes to see better.
COMBATSYS: Nassir overcomes Thrown Object from Leilani with Power Shot.
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Nassir 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Leilani
Well, for what it's worth? Nassir has more than grenades to rely on, and that's discounting the various weapons strapped to his body.
The sand kick is reasonably spot on, unsurprising since the mercenary did little to hide the direction he was heading in. Rather than attempt to outrun the blast, Nassir slid to a halt and rolled backwards. Unfurling in a crouching position, the sand is almost enough for him to hide his slight frame behind. Cutting through the sand and debris is a considerably more solid attack, this one taking the form of a sliver of metal: One of Nassir's throwing knives.
COMBATSYS: Leilani slows Power Shot from Nassir with Waterspout.
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Nassir 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Leilani
Spinning around after kicking the sand up, Leilani stays in her crouch... which turns out ot be a good maneuver. The glint of steel slipping through the wave of sand takes a moment to notice, and thus countering with yet another whirlwind of water is really all that she could really do. Standing, twisting her wrist in the air, the Waterspout manages to catch the blade in it's spin, but unfortunately not enough to negate it's velocity. The blade zips back out the other side of the vortex, bouncing once in the sand before the handle tags her right in the kneecap.
"Rrgh!" she grunts, her knee trying to give way from basic patellar reflex. It doesn't look like she's hurt badly, but it might still leave a bruise.
First Strike! 1000 pts!
In all honesty, Nassir might would not know if the blade landed had it not been for the cry of pain. Even then, Nassir learned not to trust such cues, as his recent 'educational spars' with the ninjafolk of the land taught. Hit or miss, Nassir took the opportunity to push forth with his offense, springing high into the air before tucking into a tight spinning soldierball. During one of his flips, another knife flew in from the overhead angle--the throwing motion somewhat difficult to catch due to the acrobatics surrounding it, but the knife itself easy enough to see.
COMBATSYS: Leilani blocks Nassir's Strong Shot.
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Nassir 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Leilani
Getting her knee to obey her commands once again, Leilani's eyes follow the strange leap of her opponent. Ffirst preparing for some kind of jump kick, when the blade comes streaming down towards her, she simply slaps the blade away like it was nothing. It's a little irritating, admittedly, that this man seems to be gaining the upper hand. Big wouldn't be amused.
A trickle of blood from The Shark's hand stops suddenly, the red, viscous liquid suddenly turning into a series of bright white jagged teeth. In fact, the whole back of her hand erupts in a row upon row of small, serrated knives as she steps forward, attempting to backhand the soldierball right out of the air and into a world of pain. Or, at least, make that crisp uniform of his shred a little.
COMBATSYS: Leilani successfully hits Nassir with Shark's Bite.
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Nassir 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Leilani
Holy crap, that ain't right.
Nassir wasn't able to see very much of his opponent's transformation: Such was the downside of going for an airborne maneuver. If he were able to, he might've had the opportunity to take a better option than attempting to gracefully roll through into another attack.
Chiformed teeth tear into Nassir's uniform, shredding some of the flesh that lie beneath and earning Leilani the satisfaction of a yelp from the younger soldier. Sprawling out across the sand, Nassir's eyes grew to the size of saucers as the initial shock of being hit coursed through him.
He'd been hit. Moreover, he'd been -cut-. Even the greatest of professional fighters tend to have strategies until they're hit. How would Nassir react?
Reining both his body and his composure in, Nassir coiled backwards, rolling along the sand and leaving a thin trace of blood as a marker of his path until he finally unfurled in a crouch. No overt attack was forthcoming, but then that would appear to be Nassir's Modus Operandi.
Should Leilani happen to look down, she might happen to notice an orb in the sand where Nassir's body landed. If she didn't, she might instead notice the virtually point-blank explosion. Nassir knew which he hoped for, though certainly Leilani would have other desires.
COMBATSYS: Nassir successfully hits Leilani with Scorch the Earth.
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Nassir 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Leilani
Stepping forward to continue the attack upon Nassir, she feels the cold brush of metal against her foot. Looking down, Leilani's mouth curls into a sneer as she leaps towards the man, hoping to avoid...
Boom.
Thrown into the air by the explosion, The Shark hits the ground and rolls, sand clogging up open wounds in her legs and helping to prevent excess bleeding, but only at the cost of a little extra pain. Grimacing, gets back to her feet and pursues her opponent, not looking for anything fancier than to clock him in the crotch. Well, honestly, anywhere. But she's been known to aim low before... Just ask Shermie.
COMBATSYS: Leilani successfully hits Nassir with Quick Punch.
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Nassir 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Leilani
Meanwhile, Nassir wanted more or less nothing to do with Leilani on a hand-to-hand level. It wasn't due to any prowess displayed on her end, perhaps, though her earlier transmogrification attack seemed to be more than enough to make Nassir stay back. Preparing to follow up the sneak explosion with something else, Nassir instead found a fist in the junk.
"ng!"
Nassir couldn't get too much more out before his combat stance changed entirely towards something a bit more protective of the goods. Crossing one leg over slightly, Nassir's jaw clenched as he worked himself through pain and the urge to spew all manner of bile upon the Hawaiian beauty.
"...th.."
Okay, apparently Nassir can't quite get whatever words he wanted out. Frustrated in the extreme, Nassir threw a peculiar brand of punch at the woman's neck--instead of using a full fist, he jabbed index and middle finger in for her throat.
COMBATSYS: Leilani counters Strong Throw from Nassir with Counter Strike.
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Nassir 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Leilani
Hitting below the belt tends to take people off their guard, and, in this case, it seems to have worked. As Nassir pulls back for his hand strike, the Hawai'ian smiles raunchily, her tongue sliding across the front of her teeth. In a flash, she whips her hand out and chops at the Arab's inner elbow, tagging him hard in the delicate tendon and subverting the strike. Stepping in exceptionally close, her leg actually passing between the soldier's, thighs rubbing against another, Leilani winds back her hand as she purrs into Nassir's ear.
"I'm sorry about that," she coos, before throwing her weight, strength and advantage of position into the palm strike she slams into his chest. "But you hurt me, and I get vicious when I get hurt."
Another look of pain as Nassir finds his strike interrupted, followed by one of surprise...and pain again. "...damnable, impudent woman," Nassir replied, picking himself off of the ground a bit slower than he might've hoped otherwise. Tendril-like wisps of shadowy blue energy began to boil off of the teenager's uniform and skin, evaporating into nothingness when left to meet against the air. "You know little of viciousness, only whorish ploys."
Apparently, when Nassir gets hurt, he...acts hurt, in that precious 'frat boy out past last call' kind of way, minus the drunkenly pointed verbal barbs.
COMBATSYS: Nassir focuses on his next action.
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Nassir 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Leilani
COMBATSYS: Leilani focuses on her next action.
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Nassir 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Leilani
Regaining her stance, the woman's smile drops off at the word 'whorish'. She knows her place in life, thank you, but you needn't be rude about it. "Actually," she says, absentmindedly pulling a small bit of shrapnel out of her thigh, "I think I know more about viciousness than you could ever hope to learn."
Beyond being an escort, beyond being an exotic dancer, beyond being Mr. Big's arm candy... Leilani is one of Mr. Big's enforcers. Her eyes narrow as she watches the energy leak off of Nassir like the morning mist over a pond. "I've dissected a man with my bare hands before, honey." A hungry look crosses her face, her teeth almost flashing jagged for a moment as she smiles.
A standoff ensues for a moment in time as the two stare one another down.
Now, naturally, Nassir couldn't really know how on-point he was about things. Blissfully ignorant as to what Mr. Big, Geese and the rest of the syndicate actually -do- on a regular basis, there was little more than a name and a photographed image for Nassir to attach it to. He wouldn't know about...well, any of it. At all. Even if he was told, the knowledge would be abstract at best--he wasn't too inclined to play voyeur when off-duty USPL officers would find friendly women in whatever countries they found themselves in, and held most similar forms of vice to an almost cartoony standard of villainy, temptation, and sin.
All he knew was what she presented thus far, and all he had was a somewhat meager vocabulary of insults to apply. In another instance, who knows what he would've said.
So then, the two fighters found themselves locked in a staredown. "Maybe," is all that's said, before the energy flares and dissipates into nothingness. No attack seemed to be immeadiately forthcoming, though the history of the last thirty seconds or so would suggest that an attack is very much coming. Unlike the other instances, Nassir stood still, content to watch as...well, something happens. Or doesn't. Who knows.
COMBATSYS: Leilani blocks Nassir's Phantom Patrol.
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Nassir 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Leilani
The sand behind Leilani shifts suddenly, following a rhythm very much like running footsteps. Thudthudthudthud. Should Leilani turn around, she'd find...Nassir charging headlong into the Hawaiian. Again. Unlike Nassir the first, this one is cast wholly in that same shadowy blue energy that was leaking out of his body moments ago--like someone poured a plastic action figure mold of Nassir, and set it to life. A pair of knives are in his hands, meaning to make quick work on Leilani's exposed flank and end things thusly.
Leilani glances back at the sound, just in case it's a messenger from either of their bosses, only to see...
Doppelganger? This guy has some nice tricks up his sleeve.
Leaping back, a trail of water seeming to follow her feet, she lands several steps away from the original Nassir, and is happy enough to be able to see the real Arab as his lifeless double attempts to lay into her. Knife strikes glance off her arms and shoulders, shredding her wetsuit quite thoroughly. In fact, if it wasn't for the bikini she was wearing under the suit, she'd be half a step from indecent right now.
Snapping away from the onslaught, she makes a beeline towards the original, leaping again into the air and making a grab for his face. It's not technical, but if it works, effective. She has sharp fingernails, and her momentum should pull the young man to the ground if she gets her fingers in his nose.
COMBATSYS: Leilani successfully hits Nassir with Quick Throw.
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Nassir 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\1 Leilani
Once her attention is pulled by the Phantom clone, the Original Nassir sprung into action, looking to make the best out of a one-man ambush by leaving a few additional lacerations on the escort. The spurt of water puts a bit of hesistation into the youth, long enough to deter his offense and leave him looking to duck beneath Leilani's hand. In this instance, Leilani proves to be the faster of the two, and the young mercenary hits the sand with an audible 'thud'.
Given his less-than-desirable position, what with fingers in his nose and nails scratching at his flesh, Nassir did whatever he could to bring himself back to a standing base. Pulling one of his larger combat blades free from its holster, the arabian mercenary attempted to plunge it into Leilani's midsection. More of those tendrils of energy flared from the youth's body, though this time they left afterimages of the knife and his arm in the air between them.
COMBATSYS: Leilani negates Horrors of War from Nassir with Waterspout.
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Nassir 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\1 Leilani
Admittedly, it wasn't one of her prouder attacks. But the rule of the game is to win, right? Her winning this match makes Daddy money, and if Big is happy, then Leilani is happy. Pulling herself to her feet once Nassir struggles free, the Hawai'ian stands and prepares for the next attack. Thank god that doppel is gone, though, because fighting two opponents is not her strong spot. To be honest, fighting itself isn't her strong spot, but you do what you can with what you got.
As the sound of metal dragging across leather crosses her ears, the woman hops back, once again pulling a tornado of water out of the earth and causing the mercenary to sink his blade deep into the center of the storm as opposed to the center of HER.
Obviously, something just wasn't right here. Maybe Nassir was being a bit more lethargic than normal, or maybe she just had his number. Regardless whatever excuse Nassir wanted to apply to his poor performance, it didn't change the fact that his performance was exactly that: Poor, substandard even for him. Something needed to change, and he needed to figure out what quickly before he ended up costing the USPL six-figures.
Even as the knife missed, it managed to do one thing well--buy Nassir space and time. Using a portion of that time to scramble back to his feet, the remainder of that time apart is spent unholstering his sidearm: What was once a heavy pistol along the lines of the Desert Eagle series is now some kind of modified and personalized monstrosity, an affront to ballistic technology and common sense.
Maybe bullets would buy him some thinking time, yes?
Angling low, Nassir squeezed the trigger until he was rewarded with a constant stream of bullets, each released to the tune of a loud pop which echoed along the beach air.
COMBATSYS: Nassir successfully hits Leilani with Long Shot.
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Nassir 1/---====/=======|=======\===----\1 Leilani
Oh my.
Look at the size of that thing.
That must be fun to play with.
These thoughts cross Leilani's mind as Nassir unholsters his sidearm. As he aims, however, the Hawai'ian finds that, no, she is indeed not faster than bullets. One, two, three, four, five rounds slam into her body, spinning her around and forcing her to fall into the sand.
A long moment passes before the woman picks herself up off the beach and once again stands, the top of her springsuit now thoroughly shredded and dangling off her form. Battered, bruised and bleeding, she seems worse for wear, but if not for her training, she'd likely be in the morgue after that.
With a final, angry *ZIP*, the Hawai'ian peels off the remainder of her suit, kicking the shredded neoprene off to the side. Now standing exclusively in a red string bikini, she eyes the man in uniform, figuring her next move.
Bullets did buy him some time to think.
COMBATSYS: Leilani focuses on her next action.
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Nassir 1/---====/=======|=======\===----\1 Leilani
So then, questions begin to form:
One: Did Nassir intend to kill Leilani? Probably not. Noteworthy fighters seemed to be more than capable when it came to defending against the weapons of man, and Leilani seemed noteworthy enough to put a good few shots in against Nassir, nevermind stifling his primary source of offense. If she died, it would be accidental.
Two: Did Nassir like what he saw? Probably not. He certainly liked the figure, but in general bruises and lacerations didn't make a good base for makeup.
Three: Did Nassir spend his thinking time well? Probably not. Between mentally judging Leilani's body and realizing that he was in a world of hurt, he simply didn't take long to consider such things as tactics and the like. That would likely explain why that so-called thinking time was instead spent with his finger still wrapped around the trigger, sending a steady spray of bullets into the sand...and with some readjustment, hopefully tearing through calf and thigh muscles...or failing that, keeping the bikini-clad escort on her figurative and literal toes.
Except not, since...Nassir's player apparently can't do what he wanted to do. Same bullet action, even less of a chance for anything to hit. Sand kicks up around both fighters as bullets drive into the giving material, providing sound effects and visuals but little substance.
COMBATSYS: Nassir focuses on his next action.
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Nassir 1/---====/=======|=======\===----\1 Leilani
Being on the wrong side of a gun barrel is not fun. Being on the wrong side of an angry woman, too, can be not fun. Cold in her anger, a look of death creeps over Leilani's features for a long moment, eyes boring through Nassir before she dashes towards the Arab. Somehow managing to avoid taking another shot to, well, anywhere, the woman and the bullets kick up sand, her feet somehow causing the sand to not give way nearly as much as a normal person's would. Time on the beach and all.
A Hawai'ian war chant quietly pouring over her lips, she makes her way towards Nassir, reaching out to try and grab the weapon so she can disarm him...
COMBATSYS: Nassir counters Kapu Ku'i A Lua from Leilani with Depravity.
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Nassir 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Leilani
<Great and merciful lord, I call to you.>
Reverting to his Saudi dialect, Nassir emphasizes each word with a chanting drone--increasing in volume with each syllable, lest he be lost beneath Leilani's own. She wouldn't have to worry about disarming the soldier, as his firearm is dropped willingly. More wisps of energy formed, though they appeared to be limited to his forearms, foreshadowing some manner of attack.
<Guide the hand of the faithful.>
Curling his hand into the half-fist he attempted to use before, Nassir thrust his fingers out, towards Leilani's arm. The other coiled in a similar manner, hooking around for Leilani's midsection, near where breast becomes ribs.
<Lead the spirit through adversity and into the light of understanding,>
Each impact is feather-light, at least on Nassir's end: logic would dictate that the charging Leilani should've been able to bowl Nassir over, but logic doesn't quite win out here. Fingers remain pressed against bare flesh for little more than a fleeting moment before Nassir backed away two paces, and finished his mantra.
<Or damn the faithless to despair and waste.>
As before, the chi signature was strong enough to leave an afterimage of his hands, still pressed against Leilani--then sprung to life. Each shadowhand makes a swiping gesture, passing into and through the flesh before dissipating.
If Leilani was the dying type, her autopsy would reveal a death from muscle failure on a massive scale. As is, she was likely to get away with some surprising numbness.
Discounting the knife assaults and multiple gunshots, anyways.
Leilani has been felt up a whole lot in her life. But never quite like this.
The etherial hands pass through her, sending a chill through her like a winter's wind. Shivering, Leilani's skin prickles with goosebumps as her momentum ends, her breathing deep and laboured. "Oh, wow," she says quietly, proof that she hasn't been bowled over by Allah's will just yet. "You've got quite the soft touch..." The numbness does one thing positive for the Hawai'ian... It makes her less cognizant of her injuries. She can press on.
Taking a deep breath, eyes widened by the experience, her lips curl into a light smile and her eyes settle on Nassir. "That was..." she pauses, taking another breath through her nose, "...exhilirating." Her smile grows for a moment longer, before her hand lashes out, attempting to jab rigid fingers into the Arab's throat.
COMBATSYS: Nassir dodges Leilani's Quick Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Nassir 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Leilani
Likewise, Nassir appeared to be...putting himself back together, composing himself, and preparing for some kind of final rush to end the fight and win the USPL some fairly deep scratch. Sliding backwards, Nassir narrowly avoids the fist before impact. Swallowing hard as adrenaline and will combines into a fighting whole, Nassir pi--wait, no.
Stupid, stupid mutant firearm.
Boot colliding with the discarded weapon, Nassir's eyes widen as he begins to almost comically pratfall backwards. Midway down the fall Nassir made a motion with his hand--or more specifically, his wrist, flicking hard and flinging a small piece of metal at Leilani's lower extremities.
COMBATSYS: Leilani blocks Nassir's Quick Shot.
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Nassir 0/-------/-======|===----\-------\0 Leilani
Again, with the knives.
Leilani is conscious of the fact that she is not coming out of this fight as well as her male opponent. It is for this reason that she decides it's in her best interest to get all up in his business now and keep him from throwing all these damn things at her. Once again slapping away the knife as it comes in, the blade catches the flesh below the pinky, cutting shallowly. This time she doesn't manifest a row of shark's teeth around her hand... Instead, she brings the now bloodied hand up to try and chop the man in the face as he stands.
Maybe the blood of the unclean Spam-eater will cause him to make exploitable mistakes. It would be nice to have that happen.
COMBATSYS: Nassir parries Leilani's Strong Punch!
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ////// ]
Nassir 0/-------/-======|===----\-------\0 Leilani
Don't eat spam. It's bad for you, and also comes out of a can that you could confuse for Purina or Ihms or vice versa.
Meanwhile, Nassir lay on the ground like a fish out of water, scrambling and clawing at anything that'd give him a meaningful degree of purchase. This was one heck of a bad position, and in all liklihood both fighters knew it. If only he could just reach his bando--
--WHAK!
Leilani's judo chop hits paydirt, putting the younger mercenary down like it was a 1970's blaxploitation movie and Leilani was Youngblood Priest. Blood--both Nassir's and Leilani's, most likely--follows a thin arc through the air, mingling with the marred and mutilated sand that surrounded the fighters. For all the world, Nassir looked down and out...
...and then he looked like a roast turkey dinner. Arab Soldier + Savage Beatings = Turkey Dinner? That's different, and yet a formula that kept the Haggarfriends fed and fat like Hannibal Lecter at a retirement facility.
At least there isn't much time to ponder such a bizarre transmogrification, as two things occur: One, the dinner turns an all-too-familiar by now shade of blue before flickering away into nothingness. The other thing that occurs is only a possibility--that nasty, creeping feeling that you're about to be knifed in the kidney area...Again.
COMBATSYS: Nassir successfully hits Leilani with Horrors of War EX.
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > // ]
Nassir 0/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Leilani
Snikt.
Be careful with those knives. String bikinis are notoriously easy to cut. If Nassir's not careful, he's gonna get to see Leilani's jumblies. As it stands, the knives do, indeed, hit the strings, but not enough to actually sever. Just make them threadbarren. Her decency maintained, even if the blades still cut into her skin and do horrible things to her health and well-being. Amazingly enough, despite looking like a spitwad could topple her, she continues to stand and even move a little. This is how she is somehow able to relocate the Arab through her haze and attempt to backfist him across the nose. She hasn't got too much strength behind it, but it's what she can muster.
COMBATSYS: Leilani successfully hits Nassir with Quick Punch.
[ \\\\\\ < > // ]
Nassir 1/------=/=======|=====--\-------\0 Leilani
Another strike, and another contact. Nassir's head snaps to one side, whiplashing with the impact despite the lack of pop behind it on Leilani's end. Seems Nassir wasn't going to walk away from this looking all neat and tidy and clean. His uniform was a mess thanks to her shark-teeth manifestation, he'd been beaten silly, and was bleeding freely from the flank. Of course, Leilani...
...Leilani...
...and that's when it hit him, harder than any blow he'd taken thus far.
"You are talented," Nassir offers, delivering an on-point assessment with the razor-sharp precision of Schugerg...or not. "I am impressed with your ability to fight while being stripped."
Apparently not impressed enough to call it a day, nor worried enough about either fighter's decency to call in the tailors, Nassir made one more go at finishing this dance off--flicking his hand almost straight down, another of his seemingly endless supply of arms hones in for Leilani's foot. If he had more strength behind it, and if the ground was a bit more solid, and if Leilani was random mook fifteen, it'd probably effectively staple a foot to the ground. As it is, it could do little more than play the role of spoiler and harbinger of victory/defeat.
COMBATSYS: Leilani overcomes Quick Shot from Nassir with Thrown Object.
[ \\\\\\ < > /// ]
Nassir 1/------=/=======|=====--\-------\0 Leilani
You have to admit, too, that she's really hard to take down. Reaching out, she yanks one of the knives out from Nassir's sheaths, and she tosses it into the ground. Or, well, tries to. Because this really wasn't planned. She'd just wanted to get at least one more blade out of his arsenal, but instead, it collides, mid-air, with the knife the mercenary soldier was using, the blades ricocheting off in different directions. One away from the two fighters, the other towards Nassir himself.
The wide-eyed look on Leilani's face tells the story of how little she expected that. "...Max out, broddah..." she murmurs to herself.
COMBATSYS: Nassir overcomes Thrown Object from Leilani with Day of Judgement.
[ \\\\\ < > /// ]
Nassir 0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0 Leilani
Well...dang. Didn't see that coming.
Ever since he was five, Nassir was taught to protect his weapons from the covetous hands of others. "Weapons know no allegiance," His father said. "And lust for betrayal. Remember this always, and you will rise above many who trust their knives as their right hand." As sure as the sun would rise every morning, his father was right--and young Nassir learned how to kill a man who'd grown too fat off of the gunpower and steel landscape.
And now, Nassir had evidently grown too fat off of his ordnance, the gunpower and steel landscape. He deserved to have his own knife deflected, certainly. If this woman decided to slit his throat in his moment of weakness, he deserved that also for forgetting a simple rule. His body ought be fed to pigs, and his memory quickly forgotten to the winds. Such would be an appropriate fate.
If only Nassir would let it be, his body could stop with endless struggle. His mind could succumb to all manner of temptation, and his spirit could falter and wallow in the excess of his impressive earnings and accomplishments. Just...let it be.
As would be expected though, Nassir's resistance...remarkable, to say the least. Feet dragging backwards to avoid the knife, Nassir reached for his sidearm...and found nothing but empty holster.
He didn't reholster. His gun had been in the sand for...too long, now. Would it still fire, or would it jam?
Bolting for the weapon with a burst of energy that surprised even Nassir, the young soldier rolled along the sand before bringing it to bear. One quick and easy squeeze, and a single bullet was left to fly through the air, promising to tear through Leilani's leg and end this conflict with appropriate finality.
This was to be a Day of Judgement for more than just Nassir, evidently.
COMBATSYS: Leilani slows Day of Judgement from Nassir with Thrown Object.
[ \\\\\ <
Nassir 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Leilani can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\ <
Nassir 0/-------/------=|
Just as Nassir explodes for his firearm, so does Leilani for one of the knives stuck in the sand. Her efforts produce a weapon first, but, unfortunately, it is also slower than a fired bullet.
With all her strength, she picks up the knife, spinning the blade in her fingers as she turns to face the man, hurling the knife at him as he picks the sidearm up and aims. The blade shimmers in the last vestiges of the sunlight before the muzzle flash sets it alight again...
The bullet exits the barrel and heads towards the Hawai'ian.
The blade spins towards the Arab.
When the two meet, it is a once in a lifetime chance. As the soldier keeps his blades well-honed, the lead projectile manages to hit the edge perfectly, splitting the bullet in twain. The knife explodes from the impact, sending shards back at the thrower, even as the bullet, now split, changes course.
Small metal fragments imbed into her legs.
Bullet fragments slam into her hips.
With a grimace of pain, and amazingly no sound, the Hawai'ian drops. Not quite unconscious, but certainly unable to move anymore.
Tears roll quietly down her face as she tries desperately not to cry out.
Beat, Beat.
Nassir held the position for an overlong moment, perhaps expecting some kind of retaliation or counter...or maybe a third party to come out and clean up in Leilani's stead. Some portion of him felt particularly bad about the ending, and considered the chances that something went -wrong-, or at least less right than any other time when firearms are involved in grueling fights.
Quickly holstering the weapon, Nassir carefully closed the distance between the Hawaiian and he. "Can you hear me?" The youth inquired, brows raised in worry. If Leilani were to die...
...Depending on how much of a stink Mr. Big pitched over the outcome, Nassir's life might've been forfeit. Depending on how much the Syndicate alliance was worth, Rolento might've had Nassir publicly executed to satisfy Southtown Executives. Maybe.
One step at a time. First, let's see what's what.
Stripping off what remain of his upper uniform, Nassir did his best to cover the woman up--a thin layer, and a vain attempt at keeping her warm, maybe. "Can you hear me, Lei'lani?"
"Breathe deeply, Leilani."
She could hear his voice.
"Don't fight the pain. It's like the waves. You can't fight the waves."
Her grandfather's voice. It wasn't a comforting voice, but it told her what she needed to do.
"Can you hear me, Lei'lani?" she heard him say. Taking a deep breath, she let the pain flow through her, accepting it a little at a time. Nodding her head as she lay otherwise motionless in the sand, she continued to breathe deeply for several more moments before a gentle laugh escaped her lips. "I try hope I geev you kine decent run, honey," she said, weakly, a gentle smile crossing her face. "I don't t'ink I gonna keek da kine."
"Good."
In truth, Nassir had next to no idea what Leilani was actually saying. Ultimately, it was irrelevent: The woman was being responsive, and that's a strong indicator on the future for both fighters. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Nassir was already concocting a suitable series of defenses should he be brought up before Rolento or the other Lieutenants...but that was something he'd worry about in full once he was sure Leilani would survive.
"You're hurt," Nassir admitted, speaking slowly for reasons perhaps only known to him. Dead people hear better when things are said slowly, right? Right. "You're hurt real bad, ma'am. You're bleeding a lot, you've been shot multiple times, and I think a knife shard might've broke off inside of you." Way to break the news, right champ? Awesome combat medic in the making, right here.
"You're hurt bad, but you aren't dying, not yet, not by a long margin. You're going to need some work, and you're going to need some rest, but you'll be back on your feet before you know it. Does your fath--er, the Mister Big, does he have protocols for medical assistance?"
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Breathe iiiiin...
A series of light chuckles escape the woman's lips as she lies there, listening to Nassir list off her injuries. She's been spending a lot more time with hospital staff than she's used to over the last month. In fact, she hadn't visited the hospital for anything more than her bimonthly STD and pregnancy tests in years until Big decided her skills could be used to rake in a fighter's paycheck. She'd been broken, punctured, stabbed, slammed and now shot more than she'd ever expected she would in a lifetime. And that was just this week.
Nodding slowly, Leilani turns her face up towards Nassir and smiles again. "Jus' call 911," she says quietly. "After that, you can disappear if y'kine need to."
911? What the hell?
Nassir's face twisted, contorting into an stern, fatherly visage that didn't belong on his body, nevermind his face. "Are you certain that's the option you want? Police involvement may create," Nassir hesistated, looking for the right word and finally coming up with a satisfactory one. "Irrevokable Complications. There could be questions about why you'd been shot and stabbed here. They will want...things of you, and are not likely to accept the story of accident, ma'am."
Apparently, Nassir wasn't familiar with how things work in Southtown, or who really owns the police.
"I will call the emergency team, and I will remain nearby to ensure that you enter their care intact."
Leilani nods weakly, resting her head again in the sand. "K'den."
[ -FIN- ]
Log created on 22:03:50 04/06/2007 by Leilani, and last modified on 16:44:26 07/08/2007.