Description: A male model vs. male model fight in Southtown Village. The challenge is issued by a good-natured Alma to learn more about the newer face, Drake. Drake accepts the challenge in hopes of becoming his own individual and getting out from under Alma's shadow by defeating him in full public view. Unfortunately for Drake, it seems he has to play second fiddle a bit longer.
The moment has come.
That's right, folks. Normally possessed of a laidback atmosphere even in its commercial sections, Southtown Village's main streets are unusually crowded this Friday evening. The sun has not yet gone down and the air will remain pleasantly warm for at least the next hour, and it's a perfect opportunity to catch a movie and hit an early dinner outside-- but people are being distracted. Few have left the streets, and groups, couples, and wandering individuals instead are halting on their evening walks to pause by the slowly gathering mass. They've come to see--
Well, actually, most of them don't know what they've come to see, and have simply stopped in their tracks to see way a section of the street outside one of the movie theaters has been cordoned off. But the word /has/ gone out since that fateful Saturday Night Fight, and those who are interested have come out to show their support.
This explains why there are a lot of women.
It's the male model versus male model faceoff. Finally, Alma Towazu, established prodigy of Hiten-Ryu kung fu and young would-be champion of virtue, has called out Drake Vyril A.K.A. Domino, ex-prowrestler and would-be James Bond, for their inevitable clash. It's almost too much male beauty to handle in one place. They couldn't hang up banners for fear they would spontaneously ignite. No, but seriously, even though this street fight isn't 'official' by any conventional means, Alma has made a point to formally send Drake a polite little note requesting his presence here this evening rather than hope for a random clash in the future. Frankly, he's interested in Drake. ...you know, as a person.
~ Mizuki made me curious. I've just got to face him. ~
It's a little strange, maybe, but Alma, standing poised with his hands calmly sheathed in the pockets of his snug designer jeans and gazing up at the partly cloudy sky with his usual mild-mannered thoughtful smile, is satisfied with his own motivations. There's no real rivalry here. Who cares about male models? It's just that Alma's never /met/ another male model and martial artist before, and Drake strikes him as being almost the polar opposite of himself in a number of respects. A yin and yang sort of thing-- and not just because Alma looks a lot more like a woman than Drake. No, it's an attitude sort of thing, the different ways in which they are charismatic, in which they express themselves... so Alma wants to know more about what Drake is really like. And he's not sure Drake would want to simply sit down to tea.
~ He might think I'm hitting on him. ~
And the next best way to learn about someone, if you ask Alma--
The beautiful youth's smile widens slightly, seemingly ignoring the growing whispers of the curious crowd gathered wide around him.
--is to fight them!
Drake is not one to back down from a challenge. No matter if it's official or even made lightly. Drake's competitive, and always has that urge to prove himself and exceed. What's more, the challenge was made by Alma. The... ugh.. -other- male model. The one he's constantly being compared to. To say there isn't any real rivalry here would be very incorrect. In essence, Drake feels the craving to get out from under Alma's shadow. Not that he can fault him - so far as he knows, it's not a stigma Alma's established intentionally. After all, they honestly have very little in common that he can tell apart from career. But it's a stigma Drake has every intention to tear down.
So here comes the dark-haired model. The crowd parts like the red sea to make way for the more punkishly stylish of the two, who saunters towards the cordoned area at something of a casual stride. A cocky, self-assured smile plays on his lips, and he's more than willing to slap a few hands on the way. As well as give the occassional hug to the over-zealous fan, or ruffle the hair of a younger spectator playfully. It's the simple things that win a crowd, after all.
But once Drake reaches the edge of the would-be 'ring' and he steps inside, he turns to face the audience and thrusts his gloved fists into the air. Only then does he turn to acknowledge Alma.
Those dark amethyst eyes seek out Alma's hazels. The roguish wrestler's gaze intensifies, his look almost burning.
And then...
"'Sup?"
Amiable smile.
Not knowing what they've come to see? Mika knows full well what she's come to see! An old-timey Godzilla movie that's supposed to be playing in the theater!
Only...
... she doesn't get that far.
With the area cordoned off, the bouncy blonde is forced to stop and take a look around. Not Saturday. She doesn't spy any cameras, so not Neo League. Hrm! Curious!
Moving closer, the wannabe pro-wrestler tilts her head. Oh! She knows someone here. There's that guy she met when she was carrying Sylvester around! Before she can think much on it, the crowd parts and she's got to adjust her mask as someone jostles her.
That mask though? The only identifiable thing that's Mika at the moment. She's wearing a cerulean cap-sleeve tee-shirt and a pair of denim shorts in white.
Then she notices Drake and gives a sharp whistle to try and get his attention as she waves.
Pause.
Wait.
Drake and Alma fighting? To HECK with Godzilla.... this is going to be interesting!
Ever since leaving Jiro at the shrine, Mizuki has been distracted by her new 'mission'--which is, find Alma and warn him that Dante is out to kill him. She didn't skip classes, or anything like that, but she was distracted, quite unlike herself. She even refused an offer to go malling with her friends, which was really shocking--there isn't much Mizuki likes more than going to the mall, in terms of recreational activities.
But she's on a mission from Jiro. First she checked the little cafe she first met him at--no go. But the owner tipped her off to something going on in the Village--Model vs. Model--and while it could be -anyone-... she might as well go check it out. Which she does, and why she's here--her smaller form coincidentally brushing past Mika's as she looks around. Hey--he IS here! And that Drake guy who kissed her hand.
... can she interrupt? Should she? Mizuki fidgets a bit, trying to decide whether she should speak up now or wait...
It's really very interesting, their differences in style.
Alma's approach is clearly quite different. While Drake actively and quite successfully cultivates the admiration of the crowd by engaging with them as he travels down the line, the slightly taller but significantly more androgynous blond model seems almost lost in his own world. Any normal person standing there inactively like that would be ignored, would come across as a wallflower or just wanting to be left alone. But, well-- first, there's the smile. Pleasant and warm, apparently directed at the world in general, mild and unassuming, there's something gratifying about just looking at Alma's face, as though the world can't be all that bad if he's in such a good little mood. Second, there's the eyes-- ever distant, persuing something invisible to others, they along with his beauty can arouse interest in even a casual onlooker. What is he thinking about all the time that so commands his attention? And third and most important... there is the mystery of the two together. He's present /and/ distant, engaged and detached. That smile welcomes even as that gaze puts him out of reach. He's ever open and honest, always refreshingly genuine, yet his composure retains an air of mystery.
And that's why not everyone looks away.
Who IS Alma Towazu?
It's quite classy the way his gaze drifts down to Drake before his presence is announced, even though there's no way he could have seen the other model -- sorry, the dark-haired model -- arrive. This is of course because he is a psychic. Not a particularly good one, you understand, at least not in the conventional sense. He can't detect thoughts or predict the future for the life of him; but his intuition is fine-tuned, and auras are like sustenance to him. He lives and breathes auras. That is what he is doing when he gazes away, that is why he looks distant-- because he's always looking elsewhere, mesmerized by the hidden colors of the world, ever awed by its secret glory, his passion inspired by the deeper truths he feels he can with effort perceive.
And /that/ is why, though his face is calm and his smile is pure, the gaze he turns to Drake is fueled by fire as well-- an inner burning, the beginnings of the joy of the fight, of the clash between souls.
"Good evening," he murmurs pleasantly.
The crowd begins to grow quite noisy indeed.
Drake's attention is distracted momentarily by a particularly sharp whistle. Normally Mika would be easily discernable in this crowd. But she's dressed quite differently. She blends. However! That mask is her saving grace, making her stand out. "Hey!," he calls to her and lifts his left arm to wave to her.
Drake shoots her a wink, then looks back to Alma, decidedly more seriously. This, however, lasts only a few seconds before he cracks a wry smile. "I was starting to wonder if you'd decided against meeting me in the ring agin. You don't call, you don't write...," he jokes. A soft, melodiously lighthearted laugh escapes him then.
"Well... let's get this thing going," Drake says, inner fire masked in a passive tone. He alternates between hands, pulling his fingerless leather gloves tighter in an almost carefree manner. The wrestler then trots more towards one end of the cordoned area. His 'corner', if you will.
Mika giggles at the wink and then pushes her way through the growing crowd so that she can get a better look. Consequently, this likely means that she's pushing Mizuki a little bit. Not on purpose! She really hates being rude, but the blonde really wants to watch this fight. She's entirely intent upon it. Hey! If they want to ruin her movie-night, then she demands entertainment!
"GOOD LUCK DOMINO!" Yeah. He's got a cheering section!
It's now or never; Mizuki can tell the fight's about to start. She dislikes doing this--it's disruptive and rude and neither of these are particularly Mizuki's style. But some things can't wait. Mizuki takes a deep breath and shouts.
"ALMA! ALMA TOWAZU!" ... okay, that's the first part, but she failed to consider the second part--she can't just SHOUT that someone's out to kill him, that's just TOO disruptive.
Mizuki is waving her arms to get Alma's attention and she shouts again, because the crowd is just so damn noisy.
"Please don't get knocked out! I have to talk to you after this!" Uhh... "It's something to do with Jiro-san! I can't tell you about it now!"
... okay now she's rambling. Realizing she's drawing more attention than she wants Mizuki puts her arms down and tries to look innocuous... fortunately Mika will draw more attention due to her, uh... mask. Yeah.
Alma grins.
"I apologize for the delay," he says softly, slipping his hands out of his pockets and inclining his head forward politely for a moment before meeting Drake's gaze again. "But I assure you, I've been looking forward to this for some time, Mr. Vyril. I've heard good things about you. I appreciate you allowing me to test your skill..."
Testing skills, eh? Next up, a model-off!
~ He really is /very/ handsome. ~
Is he really your type, though, Alma?
As profound as that question is, we sadly have little time to answer it, for as Drake turns away and Alma silently nods his assent a loud call of his name makes the young blond turn with eyebrows quirked. Not because she's the only one shouting; had he not recognized the voice, she might have blended in with the middle school girls that have already begun to cluster around. But no, that voice is really familiar, and once he starts paying attention to its source, so too is that aura...
"Mizuki?"
Alma blinks as his gaze sweeps the ground and than his smile returns-- and he actually steps forward toward the edge of the crowd, startled audience members stepping back momentarily and giving Mizuki a little room to get closer before the mass of people close in again in an attempt to get closer to one of tonight's stars. "Mizuki, what a pleasant surprise," the well-mannered young man says amiably, smiling down at her. "I hope you didn't come to cheer on my competition. Anyone can kiss a hand, you know--" But his banter is cut short by her next comments, and for a moment his smile fades and his expression becomes serious, not betraying his thoughts. For a moment, he pauses. And then: he grins.
"I'll do my best," he says lightly. "If I'm still awake, I promise I'll talk to you after the match. But only--" And the wholesome young fighter winks once, with unexpected cheer. "--if you root for me."
He's still smiling when he returns to the center of the makeshift ring, not bothering with the corners himself, and shifts his stance, relaxing his limbs and straigthening his back to allow for superior energy flow. Taking a deep breath, he settles his spirit and prepares for the coming conflict-- and turning his gaze to his opponent, he raises one hand in guard position and beckons with the other.
"Please... do your best."
COMBATSYS: Alma has started a fight here.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Alma 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Alma gathers his will.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Alma 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Drake has joined the fight here.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Alma 0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0 Drake
"Domino," corrects the dark-haired model. Yes, he's the dark-haired one. Yin-yang and all that.
Once the wrestler is at his 'corner', his arms lift to fold behind his neck. His eyes drift shut and he arches inwards, pulling the trim muscular toning along his torso taut and loosening his back.
Is he goading the crowd?
Absolutely.
The arms drop to his sides, and an obsidian eyebrow quirks at Alma's apparent distraction. Huh. He's out of earshot to hear what's being said, though. Domino simply observes Alma.. and when the beckoning motion is made, he wastes no time to start things.
In rushes the agile wrestler, moving in quickly towards Alma's right side. His left hand attempts to grab Alma by the bicep of his right arm, Domino's right hand setting to his left shoulder. His foot slips out and sweeps back, attempting to bring him off balance and shove him the rest of the way flat onto his back.
COMBATSYS: Alma blocks Drake's Quick Throw.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Alma 0/-------/--=====|-------\-------\0 Drake
She has to -cheer- for him? Uh... well... she supposes she can handle that. Mizuki would probably do so anyways. After all, Drake tried to feel her up and Alma hasn't yet. These kinds of things make an impression on a girl.
"A--alright!" Mizuki shifts away from Mika, last seen cheering on that cad Domino, and towards some Alma supporters, whereupon she shouts "GO ALMA!" with a fierce, cheerful sort of enthusiasm.
Alma is ready.
Transitioning easily from distracted conversation to the newly crafted rhythm of the fight, the blond fighter maintains his strong stance, continuing to breath deeply as he feels his passion for battle swell within his chest and send fire through his veins, awakening him to a new reality. He can feel Drake coming, feel his intent-- and for the first time, begins to sense something new. He figured Drake was competitive, but there seems to be a bit more than that too. This fight really seems to mean something to him.
Perfect.
Alma's arm is grasped but that is all. The kung fu protege maintains control over his own momentum as he pulls with Drake's motion and leaping with startling agility straight up, grasping Drake's arm right back so that the two stay in contact even as Drake's sweep misses. The heat kindled in Alma's eyes has begun to have a visible halo effect around him now, a effusive white light twinkling faintly in the air around his limbs, and as he goes airborne it bursts fully into being, soulfire lined with pink and purple exploding vibrantly into being around his legs.
Hoping to prevent Drake from escaping by keeping a grip on the wrestler's arm, Alma will kick out with both legs in succession, pulling Drake close for a fierce firey snapkick to the abdomen and then release him to twist into a powerful spinning aerial roundhouse, plumes of mental force trailing in his wake.
COMBATSYS: Drake dodges Alma's Rising Fury.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Alma 0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0 Drake
Now that's just not fair. Drake doesn't feel up his opponents. He's a martial artist wrestler. Grappling happens to be a lot of what that entails! Though Domino is fairly used to that sort of mentality - particularly from non-wrestler females.
It's neither here nor there.
Domino's eyes narrow as his foot skids against nothing but ground. Though immediately after this, he sets his mind to the defensive side. It only makes sense, seeing as Alma has kept ahold of his arm.
When the kicks come, Domino cleanly twists out of their way, then jerks in the opposite direction to pull his body into a smooth butterfly twist, freeing himself from Alma's grasp in a rather artistic, acrobatic manner.
The wrestler lands neatly on his feet, and -now- he assumes his stance. The right foot slides forward to set him into a shallow front stance. His left hand seems fairly primes and ready for a grapple with its fingers splayed, hovering at chest level. His right hand is flat, however, and stays positioned at a downwards angle before him. He makes no move to press an attack just yet - the amethyst eyes lock onto Alma to study his stance intently, instead.
COMBATSYS: Drake focuses on his next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Alma 0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0 Drake
Hmm.
Still trailing flame on his way down, Alma lands lightly for one of his size, buoyed in part by the supernatural force of Psycho Power and otherwise supplemented by his natural grace. His expression is calm and intent, but his gaze is slightly thoughtful-- again, Drake is proving himself to be a worthy adversary and one difficult to catch even with Alma's usual spontaneity. No, this will be a struggle of technique, if he is to ever make contact with the elusive Domino.
So if Drake wants to check out his stance, this is the perfect opportunity, for Alma plans on doing the same. Actually, Alma's stance isn't really much to look at; it's a bit hard to tell he's planning on fighting at all, and it certainly doesn't have much similarity to Fei Long unless you know exactly what to look for. The positioning of the feet, yes, and the shape in which he holds his hands, perhaps; but everything else is simply composed and relaxed, the poise of any graceful person about their daily business. Perhaps Alma simply thinks of battles as another part of life, not requiring any particular shift of balance.
Perhaps Alma thinks of life as a battle, and is always ready.
Whatever the case, there's not much to see, and that, in some sense, is the point.
COMBATSYS: Alma focuses on his next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Alma 0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0 Drake
Domino continues studying Alma, and... a smirk sets to the model's features. A bemused smirk. Alma seems to respond well to some grapples. Admittedly what he used was more martial than wrestling, but still. How would he handle something that seems so... crazy?
A glance is shot towards the audience, and Domino sharply points out one particularly beefy, refridgerator-shaped man.
The man's eyes widen.
Without further warning, Domino rushes towards him and leaps into the air. His boots land perfectly upon the large man's shoulders, balancing flawlessly despite some awkward staggers from his 'podium'. A roguish smile touches to his lips, and his right fist thrusts into the air to rile up the crowd. Without another moment's delay, Domino leaps high off the man's shoulders backwards, body drawing into an almost lazy backflip aimed to splash against Alma in a moonsault.
COMBATSYS: Alma interrupts Darkside Slam from Drake with Divine Intervention EX.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Alma 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Drake
Here he comes.
Honestly, Alma's quite impressed. In his own way, Drake is in tune with his environment. Well, maybe that's a flattering way of putting it, but it certainly does get the crowd's attention, and-- it's not something someone of Alma's character would ever have thought of, spontaneous and intuitive or no. Alma would never stand on anybody. Well, unlike they asked him to. And maybe if it was for justice.
But Drake has no compulsion against this, and the drama continues to build, which Alma cannot help but admire even though he can't say he's morally comfortable with the act. Hiten-Ryu is all about drama, and Alma, in his own unique way, cultivates it himself. For while he too likes to get creative, his flashiness often has its greatest effect because he can explode from such perfect stillness...
While Drake sails lazily toward Alma in his stylish moonsault, the blond model just tilts his head over to where Mizuki has moved and, calm visage shifting just slightly to reveal the smallest of smiles, lifts his hand and points to her, as if to say 'This one's for you'.
And at the last instant, even as it seems clear that Drake's about to collide with his head, Alma smoothly turns and slams a fire-imbued palm against the wrestler's body and sends a piercing lance of glittering Psycho Power through his torso as though it were insubstantial. Of course, in reality it is the mental energy that is technically insubstantial, having none of the normal qualities of fire and its visual effects only the shadow of its real assault upon Drake's focus and sense of self-- but that's not how it /looks/. And when you're a model...
"Hmn!"
...looks are everything.
If Drake's not careful, the force of the stunning explosion may carry him right back into the arms of the audience.
Alma is awarded with a SHARP cry from Drake. Assaulting the senses or no, attacks of this nature tend to... not sit well with the targets. Specifically when it nails them in such a strong manner. But unfortunately for Domino's opponent, the wrestler is much more acrobatic. He doesn't land in the audience. His body twists through the air to take control of his flight, bringing him to land in a crouch.
Teeth are now gritted. Eyes are narrowed. Fists are clenched. That fire inside Domino is burning most vibrantly now.
The darker model pushes himself back to his feet and rushes Alma. Giving the impression that he's delivering a straightforward assault, he feints aside at the last moment and flashes a reverse knifehand strike towards Alma's neck.
COMBATSYS: Alma blocks Drake's Quick Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Alma 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Drake
Alma matches Drake arm for arm, burning gaze for burning gaze. When the knifehand strike comes the blond model reacts immediately to parry with his forearm and bat it to the side, and quickly steps forward in an effort to crowd the wrestler a bit and unbalance him before Drake can escape.
Of course, this is always a dangerous bet when you're fighting a grappler for whom close quarters is comfortable territory, but Alma can only bank on his sudden burst of aggressiveness and Drake's continued disorientation as he draws back the arm he has blocked with and thrusts out with a powerful cross, a straight punch at the handsome rogue's jaw to knock him back and away, potentially stunning him again and further.
COMBATSYS: Drake counters Strong Punch from Alma with Solar Eclipse.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Alma 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Drake
The concern for moving into close quarters with Domino is confirmed. He isn't deterred or disoriented by the knifehand being blocked, and he simply circles with Alma as he attempts to crowd him. Closing in no further, and losing no ground.
The moment Alma throws the hard strike towards his jaw, Domino weaves his body down beneath the strike. With the offending arm still extended, he hooks his right arm between Alma's legs, and his left arm quickly hooks around the blond's neck. In an instant, he pulls back to hoist Alma's body into the air, and turns about as if to show him off to the crowd for a second. But with that moment gone, he drops to the side with Alma, landing him sharply upon his back, and Domino landing his firm abdominals across his in a powerslam.
A pin would come now, if Domino thought such a thing would end the match. But... no.
Mizuki has become just one of the crowd, cheering Alma on... but if Alma's looking she's always in sight at the edge of the crowd. A collective 'OOOH!' goes up as Alma's cross is countered and a powerslam follows. Of course, some less-devoted followers probably take snapshots and cameraphone shots of the instant that the two men are clasped together. Guess what's going up on the Internet in a few hours...
What the--
Alma, coughing quietly, rolls away from the site of his tragic crashlanding and neatly into a crouch and gazes up blearily for a moment.
What the heck kind of move was that?
It's not usually he who's asking /that/ question. Clearly, Alma does not watch nearly enough pro-wrestling. But that's not going to stop him now. Eyes clearing, Alma lowers his head for a moment both in recognition of his opponent's technique and in a challenge, eyes glittering determinedly through a shroud of silky blond stray locks of hair.
Then he lunges.
Again with a sudden burst of speed, like a sprinter out of a crouching start Alma closes the distance between them rapidly, body blurring faintly with the gathering storm of energy continuing to build within him. He thrusts out again with a palm, this time his power manifesting less as a spear and more as a formless burst of flame but equally potent in the force of its assault upon Drake's mind.
"Hrraah!"
He's certainly getting into it.
COMBATSYS: Drake parries Alma's Self Expression!
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Alma 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\0 Drake
Domino pulls himself into a backroll, likewise ending in a low crouch. Much more composed than the crouch he was in earlier, however. A dry smirk touches to his lips, and he raises back to his full height.
Alma's charge is carefully noted in the matter of seconds he has to analyze it. But that's really all he needs. His hand shoots out in a flash to catch Alma's attacking arm by the wrist, pulling it askew and halting the attack completely.
The dry smirk turns just a hair more malicious.
Domino's other hand makes a grab for Alma's free wrist and, if caught, he forces the arms behind Alma's back. This does three things: one, it restrains those wrists, two, it pulls Alma up to him, and three, sets Domino up perfectly to hoist Alma a bit off his feet into a crushing bearhug.
COMBATSYS: Alma dodges Drake's Blackout EX.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Alma 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\1 Drake
Goodness gracious.
Well, it could have been something beautiful, something that would cause the schoolgirls to faint and a couple old ladies to expire, but alas like so many beautiful things it was not meant to be. Alma Towazu, despite looking mildly startled -- is he flushing slightly? -- and not just at the expert way in which his attack is dissipated, manages to scramble out of the way of the bearhug and out of Drake's grip with a sudden twist into a poised cross-legged low stance, hands outstretched in a dramatic kung fu pose.
"Hey now," he murmurs, "we should save that for later."
Right, for the paying customers. Wait until the media hears of this, magazines will be clamoring for pictures of Alma and Drake together. Until then, tease them, right? Right.
No, but really, despite the mild sense that he's somehow missed out, Alma is ready to get back in action, and demonstrates this by skillfully twisting out of his crosslegged pose and into a sudden sweeping low kick aimed to knock Drake's feet out from under him even as Alma rises back to his feet.
COMBATSYS: Drake fails to counter Light Kick from Alma with Solar Eclipse.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Alma 1/------=/=======|=======\==-----\1 Drake
Once again Mizuki's voice rings out, even over the crowd--PCs have a way of doing that over NPCs. Makes things simpler.
"GO ALMA!" It isn't that she dislikes Drake--he's cute, and all, even if grabby--but she promised Alma she'd root for him. That crimson ponytail bounces up and down as Mizuki hops in place, waving her arms and generally... actually enjoying herself quite a bit, despite herself.
All was going so well!
Well... not for the same reasons Alma might think.
But Domino was sure to have gotten him in that hold! And from there? Every intention to squeeze until his opponent's head pops off.
But... it just didn't work.
Instead, Alma managed to get away. But what throws him more than anything is the comment. Save it for later? Wha? Just what does he--
Urk!
Domino tries to ward off the attack at the last moment, but he fails and lands flat on his rear with a quiet wince and a glare towards Alma. He scurries back a short ways, then raises back to his feet, still in something of a daze.
Now's his chance!
Alma knows that Drake will recover quickly, but until he does, the blond is on his feet while the dark-haired model is on his butt. That means he has time-- time to unleash the culmination of his gathered fighting spirit.
It's on.
Hand igniting with a burst of fire to match the force of the inner fire glinting his eyes, Alma charges forward once more and brings his fist back as Drake gets to his feet. Rather than lunge all the way to his opponent, however, Alma instead twists violently and brings himself hurtling toward the ground several meters too early. But as soon as he brings his fist down to collide against the earth, and unleashes a mighty war cry--
"Uuurryyaahh!"
--a trail of light streaks forward quickly along the ground toward his opponent and soon results in a geyser of flame that explodes forth near Drake's feet and aims to engulf the poor wrestler completely. Manhugs are sweet...
Before he has even seen the result, Alma turns away, eyes closed, at peace.
...but the struggle between souls is sweeter!
COMBATSYS: Alma successfully hits Drake with Full Confession.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > // ]
Alma 0/-------/------=|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Drake
Domino brings himself back up to his feet and prepares for the strike. A little too late to think about stopping him, really. So all he can rely on is evasiveness. So when Alma strikes the ground short of him, Domino has skid back a bit. Success?
..No. Not success.
The ground errupts suddenly, and the dark-haired model is engulfed. Completely. The cry he lets out is one easily made by a man in death throes.
Domino is tossed into the air, spinning and spiraling from the hit. He lands on the ground hard, not moving whatsoever for several seconds. Though, miraculously, he rises.
The look on Domino's face is one of sheer dogged determination. Teeth grit, eyes unfocused and only open halfway, legs unsteady. Despite all this, he rushes forward to attempt grabbing ahold of Alma by the shoulders.
COMBATSYS: Drake can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Alma 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Alma dodges Drake's Total Eclipse.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Alma 0/-------/------=|
And though Domino makes for the grab, his grip is... at best... weak. Possibly there was a bit of overkill, there. Whether he grabs or not, there is no follow-through. He simply drops to a knee, glaring futilely up at Alma.
His chance to pull himself out from under Alma's shadow, and... it's not happening. He's condemned.
Damn.
The dark-haired model holds onto consciousness just a couple seconds longer before dropping forward onto a shoulder, then rolling over onto his front.
And then? Drake is still.
And why has Rainbow Mika been so quiet? Where have the cheers for Domino gone?
Someone was driving by with an ice cream cart. It beckoned to the buxom blonde and so, like a gleeful little child she pushed her way through the crowd to purchase the yummy frozen delight. Two large scoops of strawberry ice cream! Mika makes it back through the crowd without happenstance, and turns her attention once more to the model-vs-model fight going on.
"GO DOMIN-" Bouncing up and down, she means to cheer him on and cheer him on good!
*SPLUT*
There goes the ice cream. Not entirely unexpected. Mika has the worst luck with ice cream of any variety. One of these days she might actually get to enjoy a scoop of ice cream without happenstance. Until then, though she just groans and tosses the empty sugar cone behind her into the crowd before making her way closer to the edge of the fight. The ground erupting makes her baby blue eyes go extremely wide and she just watches in sheer horror as Domino is engulfed en the geyser of flame.
O_O;
%Once Drake falls onto his front though, she steps even closer, sets her left hand to her hip and then points the pointer finger at Alma. "JERK!" That's all she utters, just standing there already irritated about her loss of ice cream and the obvious overkill from the more effeminate model.
He... won? He won! Well that's cheerworthy, though this time Mizuki's voice is lost in the crowd's. Not yet time to go talk to Alma, she's still preparing to slip under the barrier to go congratulate him when--
--who is this? Apparently a fan of Drake's, or a friend... but why call him a jerk? These things happen in fights... it's not like Drake is dead or anything like that.
The real question is... is Mika going to try and take Alma out?
Alma appears stunned.
Not at his success. Despite Drake's initial show of skill, Alma's perserverence allowed his strategy to succeed-- the need to unleash all his rising passion in one great barrage had been pressuring him for some time, and all he was awaiting was the change to finally unbalance his nimble adversary. The full brunt of Alma's very being is difficult to resist; despite his mild-mannered appearance, the blond model has quite a lot of being to throw around.
But that glare... that's not what he wanted.
It was great to engage Drake in combat while it lasted. Not only is the man's fighting style and emphasis in skill quite different, but his attitude continues to evoke an odd appreciation from the youth who behaves so differently himself. Alma truly does feel as though he's learned some of the things he was so curious about.
He just doesn't like some of the things he's learned.
~ He.. really wanted to win. For his own reasons... ~
Alma doesn't quite know what that's like. His own motivations to strive toward victory are quite different. He's taken aback. Almost as taken aback as the audience, who are well and truly stunned for a moment at the shocking and sudden conclusion-- until a single voice rings out.
'JERK!'
Bewildered, Alma turns toward the source of the voice, but immediately laughter erupts from the gathered crowd followed by applause, and the tension is broken, and Alma can no longer see from whence the sound came. Still, he can't help but feel a little ashamed despite himself. He couldn't have done anything else if he wanted to be true to himself, but still--
He kneels before his collapsed opponent.
"Well fought, Mr. Vyril," he murmurs. "It was an honor to be able to compete against you. I hope-- that we can work together, next time." He pauses for a moment more, then smiling softly turns to regard the mostly-cheering audience and raises a hand in thanks and salute; he does not say what they might work together /at/, but if those cameraphone images get anywhere, it may be modeling.
Alma does not spend much more time in the makeshift ring; the fight is over and the rhythm is gone. His intense passion faded as suddenly as it came, the now once-again completely mellow youth strolls over to where Mizuki stands, somehow managing to ignore the clamoring all around him.
"I'm still awake," he says simply, smiling.
COMBATSYS: Alma takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Alma 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Alma has ended the fight here.
Drake... hears nothing. His world is completely dark and silent. Dark, silent, and almost too foreboding to even consider waking back up. The frustration of trying to become his own individual is immeasurable, and this was supposed to be that chance.
But it's been blown.
So, needless to say, Drake remains motionless.
That's right! "JERK!" What? He knocks the opponent out and goes off with some girl? Where's the honor in -that-!?! If Mika weren't so concerned for her fellow wrestler, she'd jump at Alma's back and pummel him in the face until it was a bloody pulp.
HMPH!
The blonde moves in to the makeshift ring and kneels beside Drake. A hand reaches out for his wrist as she tries to take his pulse. "Hang in there, Domino..." And if he doesn't come to and push her away, she's going to pick him carefully and carry him off to get his face checked. Model with sidewalk burn on the side of the face isn't good for business!
Mizuki calms herself when she sees that Mika isn't about to call Alma out -right now-... and despite the roaring of the crowd she smiles to Alma and bows.
"So you are, Towazu-san. Congratulations." Looking past Alma, she frowns a little. "I suppose I should offer to heal him... but I have something important to tell you first..." Those closest gasp and start to stare in horror. Who is this floozy?!? ... is what they're thinking.
"But it'd be best not to say this in public...
Log created by Drake, and last modified on 16:45:52 04/28/2007.