Description:
It's not violence. It's art.
You know those small commercial galleries? The ones which are more store than exhibition space. Sure, they've got everything neatly displayed in tasteful fashions, with little plaques giving the artist's details. But there's also, you know, those little price tags.
But like every mercantile venture, there's always stock...that refuses to move. Items that there's no demand for, things nobody wants to buy. Which leaves the vendor with only unpalatable options for getting rid of stuff. Sell 'em at cost, or worse, at a loss.
This gallery owner, though, had a better idea. Dump all the unwanted artwork on the showroom floor...and then invite the Neo League in for major battle.
Their cut of the TV revenue would cover -some- cost... and whatever artwork survives the battle in a /reasonably/ intact state...will probably sell for /more/ afterwards.
So that's why Riko Koganei's standing at one end of the gallery, the polyurethane wheels of her skates rocking against the polished faux-marble floor. She's dressed like she usually is, in t-shirt, shorts, and backpack. With iPod and headphones. So she doesn't exactly match the neo-classical Greco-Roman decor of this place, what with the white walls, fake pillars, and ornate skirting around the ceiling and floors.
She looks back and forth, taking in the surroundings. Those are some truly mind-bending pieces of abstract painting on the walls, and she's...not quite sure what that thing on the pedestal next to her is supposed to be. Possibly a Spartan soldier as filtered through HP Lovecraft. That's not Sparta, that's madness.
The door leading from the overbusy, overcrowded downtown shopping district to the overbusy, overcrowded art gallery creaks open, just far enough to allow the slender form of the Shank Soldier through the gap. Nassir Mahomet wasn't particularly fond of most forms of modern art--attempting to decipher emotion and intent from a smear of ink or paint (or baser materials) was little more than an exercise in frustration, even for most art critics. To fight with those works of 'art' on the floor, ready and cleared for destruction, though?
It struck the soldier as being wasteful, unnecessarily so. The individual pieces were likely subpar, even below the standard of mediocrity some accepted as the norm. Recoiling from the sight, Nassir's lips parted, words escaping from his lips before his better senses could stop him. "Couldn't these be put towards a more constructive use?" It was entirely likely that he simply didn't know about the owner's plan, that their mere presence and action could increase the value of the wreckage on the market.
Nassir's eyes pulled up to the roller-skate clad girl, carefully studying Riko over with the same appraising eye that a jewler might apply to a particularly interesting diamond. "The sponsors, they have been particularly interested in playing witness to destruction. Today, an art gallery, yesterday a library...tomorrow, will we move on to greater things? A theatre, perhaps?" The words are directed towards her, though the delivery is stage-whisper effective, likely caught by cameras.
COMBATSYS: Nassir has started a fight here.
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Nassir 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Riko has joined the fight here.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Nassir
COMBATSYS: Nassir has left the fight here.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Nassir has joined the fight here.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Nassir
"Didn't you know," Riko says, "fighting -is- theater."
She lifts a hand, gesturing towards the surreptitiously placed cameras. Tilting her head, she smiles sunnily at Nassir. A veritable Mona Lisa smile, appropriate for the environs.
She unfolds her arms, uncovering the logo emblazoned across her t-shirt. A paint-splattered cartoon heart, with a slogan in bold red letters: ART ATTACK
She grins at the young soldier, dropping a hand to her side. Resting over the MP3 player clipped to her waist.
"Well, c'mon!"
COMBATSYS: Riko focuses on her next action.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Nassir
Despite the calls of his opponent, Nassir seemed to have little interest in taking the first shot...yet. Resting his boot-heel against the edge of a canvas, Nassir's eyes shifted down to the mp3 player. "If you truly believe this," Nassir began, his attention going back to the girl at large. "Then you have never fought before in your life."
Nassir's hands slowly slid up along his bandolier, pulling a pair of thin blades free. Letting the cool steel rest against the palm of his hand, Nassir assumed a loose fighting stance--arms slightly bent, legs at a similar angle. "If you truly believe this, then I wonder...if this will even be a fight."
COMBATSYS: Nassir focuses on his next action.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Nassir
"If you truly believe what someone -says- is what they actually -are-," Riko retorts, her eyes bright, "then you need to get out more."
In a single explosive movement, Riko thrusts her hand across the face of the iPod, the LCD screen lighting up with a brilliant blue glow. The stereo headphones looped round her neck begins to blast music, a pulsing electronica beat with heavy guitar instrumentals.
In the business, we call this a distraction.
As she does this, Riko's rearmost foot flicks backward, a heavy skate-clad heel pounding into the pedestal behind her. The low-grade plaster cracks, fragmenting, like the fall of Rome. The abstract vaguely classical-ish statue resting on top.../topples/.
Quick as a flash, Riko snags it by the leg, her other hand closing round the ankles. She. Heaves. -SWINGS-. Slamming one misshapen helmet-clad head towards Nassir.
COMBATSYS: Riko successfully hits Nassir with Improvised Tactics.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Nassir
Well, at least Nassir wouldn't have to worry about being the one to destroy things.
Nassir's eyes widened as the girl made use of her surroundings in short order, preparing to slide backwards and avoid the arc of the swing. A horrible mistake in timing leads to the Shank Soldier being solidly blasted in the side. Letting out an audible 'oomp!' as the blow finds some ribs to impact on, Nassir's legs move quickly to keep himself from falling over entirely.
That...stung.
The time for meeting and greeting apparently over with, Nassir twirled one of the knives between his fingers before loosing it with an overhanded pitch. The blade ends up going head over head, shooting in for his antagonist's centermass.
COMBATSYS: Riko dodges Nassir's Strong Shot.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Nassir
She shouldn't be able to dodge like that. Not while hauling around a grotesque example of modern art sculpture that's actually /larger than she is/.
Possibly heavier, too.
She dodges anyway.
The head of the statue crashes into the ground, the skull and shiny bronze helmet shattering into pinwheeling shards. Apparently that's not metal, that's just paint.
On the other end, at the statue's legs...Riko spins up and over, like a gymnast on the bars. Her arc means that the knife misses her, flying past her abdomen. It crashes into one of the portrait paintings behind - right between the eyes of a shocked matron.
Riko's feet hit the ground again, wheels scraping on the floor. With another burst of strength, she lifts the statue again, swings it round. Then she blasts forward, skating, accelerating, wielding the statue like a lance.
COMBATSYS: Nassir interrupts Fierce Strike from Riko with Indoctrination.
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Riko 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Nassir
Thin wisps of steam begin to rise from the soldier, hunching himself down as the makeshift lance threatened to bowl him down and run him over. His hand quickly reached for another knife, even as the lance ended up slamming into his shoulder. The impact is enough to spin the youth around--and in the same instance turn the 'steam' a shadowy blue color. As he moved, the energy left afterimages in his wake, highlighting and chronicling the spin that ended up playing into his advantage.
As Nassir spun, his arms went outwards--knives still held with the kind of grip that would make G.I. Joes envious of Cobra...if only for a moment. The knives slash across Riko's side, unless something was done to prevent the action, biting deep into the flesh and ruining clothes.
An abbreviated -yelp- tears free from Riko's throat, as the blades slash through her t-shirt and into her flesh, drawing blood. She drops the statue. The grotesquely shaped sculpture crashes to the ground - and Riko follows a moment after. Though she manages to turn her fall into something of a roll - emerging in a crouch a few feet from Nassir, clutching her bleeding side with a hand.
The rapid-paced music continues to stream from the headphones round her neck, screaming electric guitars reaching a brilliant crescendo.
Riko grins. "Not bad," she says, "nice chi. Kinda abstract, too. Like Picasso's Blue Period."
She lifts her blood-streaked fingers, waving them at the art hanging on the walls.
"Pity everything else here is suck period."
Then she moves.
Riko doesn't rise from her crouch. She's still close to the ground, her legs bent at the knees. But her skate wheels are parallel to the floor. And it's that which begins to roll, seemingly without any motive force from her muscles. She just /speeds up/, until she's smashing like a bullet into the soldier boy.
COMBATSYS: Riko successfully hits Nassir with One Hit Wonder EX.
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Riko 0/-------/---====|=======\=------\1 Nassir
Ow.
Nassir, hit oncemore. The soldier boy goes ricochetting off of a wall, landing unceremoniously in a pile of canvas, bone and ordnance. This simply wasn't going well for him, for whatever reason--dipping when he should've dived, bobbing when he should've weaved, zigging when he should've zagged. Maybe the girl was simply a lot better than he initially gave her credit for, but no matter what the excuse, she was making surprisingly short work of him.
Time to do something to change the climate a little.
Nassir's right hand busied itself with the work of reholstering one of his knives, instead opting for a trio of the small silver balls on his bandolier. While smaller than 'standard' fragmentation grenades, it was still roughly the size of an apple, a more than suitable fit for his small hand. Three of them together barely remained stationary in his hand, and threatened to topple out harmlessly on the ground. By either trick or practice, they didn't, though what follows is anything but practiced.
Fingers hooking into the pins, Nassir made a wide swinging motion with palm out, the force strong enough to loose the pins free and scatter the explosives where they may. As it stood, each grenade was highly unlikely to actually -*hit*- Riko, but they would do quite the number of parchment, canvas, cardboard...and if any innocent bystanders were unlucky enough, flesh.
It was apparently time to take control of the environment...either for himself, or at barebones least out of Riko's hands.
COMBATSYS: Riko dodges Nassir's Long Shot.
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Riko 0/-------/---====|=======\=------\1 Nassir
Riko's eyes widen as Nassir drops the grenades.
But not by much.
She did her homework when she heard who she was fighting in this match. Nassir's a known quantity, after all. He's been on the fight circuit. There's information to be found about him, easily. There's a whole community on the Internet that keeps track of fighters.
And his love of explosives is well known.
In all honesty, Riko respects that. It takes a certain pragmatism to bring bombs to a fistfight. Riko's a student of Seishirou Ryouhara, after all. A man with his own unhealthy love for gunpowder.
Of course, that training means that Riko isn't at all surprised when the grenades go off. Not at the shrapnel, not at the concussive force, not even at the volume. She's experienced far worse. She just lets the wave of blasts smash over the gallery, tearing paintings from the walls, smashing artwork in their frames, destroying sculptures where they stand. The light from the explosions and the amount of smoke and debris...totally obscures the girl from view. Effectively, she -vanishes-.
Only to appear, before the destruction settles, melting out of the smoke. Near to Nassir. Clutching a broken picture frame, swinging the splintered wood at the young soldier's head.
"Hey," Riko remarks, "you stopped talking, that's no fun."
COMBATSYS: Nassir dodges Riko's Medium Strike.
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Riko 0/-------/---====|=======\=------\1 Nassir
There were a lot of side effects to the explosion that Nassir hoped for--certainly, an actual hit would've been great, but it was frosting on the cake. The damage he was looking to cause was already done: Collateral. While nothing actually hit Riko, it did more than enough to the surroundings. Fire could aid his cause, especially as Riko seemed happy to simply use statue after statue after tablet on him. Was the girl likely to make use of burning utensils? Would she begin to panic if others around her did?
Any means to victory, right?
Nassir wasn't familiar with Riko's training regimen: As far as he knew, she was just /some girl/, much like Himeko or any of the other umpteenbillion fighting girls Japan produced. Why would she be any different? Researching his opponents was a bit more difficult, as the USPL generally had more productive ways to use it's resources...for instance, sending Nassir off to some remote corner of the world to kill a single man. It kept him busy.
Meanwhile, combat. The smoke served to obfuscate both fighters--little did Nassir realize that the girl was just as adept with sneak attacks as he. The sound of swinging blunt object and Riko's voice served as the only real warning to her advance, buying the soldier enough time to hunker down and let the wood pass over his head.
Diving into the smoke, Nassir rolls along an empty patch in the floor, turning back around wordlessly to throw the knife he'd been holding in his offhand. Would it make the mark, or would Riko prove to be a slippery target still? Nassir would know soon enough in a moment or two.
COMBATSYS: Nassir successfully hits Riko with Strong Shot.
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Riko 0/-------/-======|=======\==-----\1 Nassir
Slippery target, no. Or at least...not slippery enough. The blade slashes into Riko, tossing her back. It doesn't lodge in her body, but it draws a fresh ragged slice across her right shoulder, cutting deep. She doesn't make a sound, though. Not a sound.
If Nassir wants a silent fight, that's what he'll get.
The pulsing electronica beat from her headphones cuts off, abruptly, plunging the gallery into silence.
Riko regains her balance, recovering from the knife strike. With her right arm injured, she can no longer grip her improvised weapon as well. So she tosses the broken-off portion of picture frame to her left hand. Spinning it with a flourish, looping it in a double arc.
Riko smiles - the distinct challenging grin of a predator, lips pulled back, showing too many teeth.
COMBATSYS: Riko gathers her will.
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Riko 1/-----==/=======|=======\==-----\1 Nassir
Did the Shank Soldier notice the difference? Of course. When the music suddenly cuts off, Nassir's face contorts into a deep frown. This girl, whoever she -really- was, was steadily proving herself to be anything but 'just another schoolgirl'. While many of them possessed a deep wellspring of power, very few of them seemed to have any real grasp of tactics, outside of seeming cute and hoping opponents will take it easy on them.
Nassir hadn't, and Riko hadn't either. Now, outside of the complaint of the manager and the low moan of someone caught in the initial blasts, the playing field was deathly silent...a descriptor altogether too accurate. Nassir's mind raced, looking for methods of attack that would meaningfully injure his quarry, efficiently disable her and end the demonstration. Whether or not anything actually came to mind would go unknown, at least for the moment: Wisps of shadowy blue chi began to steam off of his body oncemore, and the soldier moved into a crouching position, but beyond that nothing was actually forthcoming.
COMBATSYS: Nassir focuses on his next action.
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Riko 1/-----==/=======|=======\==-----\1 Nassir
Riko moves.
Closing the distance between her and Nassir in just an eyeblink, the space of a single heartbeat. Fast. Very fast. So quick that her motion sends the smoke in the room swirling in crazy contrails, faster than the audience can track. Almost too rapid for the cameras to track. One moment she's standing across from the boy soldier. The next, she's speeding to him, the wheels of her skates drawing sparks off the fake marble floor.
She holds the broken section of picture frame by her side. She doesn't hit Nassir, not directly. That's not her intention. But the frame flashes towards his chest. Just as Riko -brakes-, completely ceasing her forward motion.
If she makes contact, all her velocity will be transferred in that one instant - into the soldier boy.
COMBATSYS: Nassir dodges Riko's Isometric View.
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Riko 1/------=/=======|=======\==-----\1 Nassir
Nassir's eyes widen as the girl lunges in for him--not so much out of surprise from the attack, perhaps, but from the degree of skill shown in execution. He hadn't heard her approach, wasn't totally prepared for it, and when it finally came she would be able to see the soldier youth prepping himself for an attack of his own, unaware of much beyond the steady accumulation of his chi.
<Unnatural!>
The word is blurted out as impact is made, sending the young soldier flying backwards. There's an audible thud as Nassir crashes against a wall, and something--probably one of the last few vases to go mostly unmolested--hits the ground. Slumping to his knees, Nassir looked up at the girl, face slackening, eyes welling up with tears as the color fades from his body...going pale, then snapping back into a deep blue. The end result leaves him looking very much like Nassir if he were cast in plastic and stuck in a 25 cent toy machine. Finally, Nassir flakes away into nothingness, the energy that sustained him dissipating into nothingness.
A simulacrum, An Illusion, A Phantom to play tricks on the mind.
Most importantly, the overworked 'death' would buy a second or two for the real Nassir to make a return blow. Knife in hand, Nassir had little interest in doing anything more than plunging it between her shoulderblades and drawing the lifeforce out in an Anime-like gusher. Would the brief chi-show be enough distraction, or would Riko sense the sneak attack before it was too late?
COMBATSYS: Riko dodges Nassir's Random Weapon.
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Riko 1/------=/=======|=======\==-----\1 Nassir
Riko scowls.
She seems incredibly, exceedingly, annoyed, as Nassir smashes into the wall. Her ire grows as the illusion dissipates.
When Nassir comes up from behind her, she just rolls forward a step, gliding on her skates. Just one step, -just- enough...so that Nassir's knife blade meets empty air instead of Riko's flesh.
Then she spins round, like a pirouetting ballerina. Leading with one heavy skate-clad heel, slamming dense metals and plastic towards Nassir's gut.
Her face, now, is calm. Composed. Inwardly...
...she's still a little peeved.
The boy's duplication technique is inferior to her own sensei's. Seishirou-sama's. That's why she could see through it so easily.
But...
His clone's still better than /her own/.
Bah.
COMBATSYS: Nassir dodges Riko's Light Kick.
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Riko 1/------=/=======|=======\==-----\1 Nassir
"Hrn!"
Hey, look! Nassir might not be talking again, exactly, but he's at least making noise. Granted, at this point it likely didn't matter--Riko and Nassir were practically in front of one another, the dance between the two seemingly choreographed. Too bad that the smoke would make the footage grainy and difficult to make out at best...otherwise, the fight might be something worth seeing.
Stomping his foot into the ground, Nassir sprung backwards to avoid the gut-kick, though it wasn't really far enough to keep him out of melee range. The return shot is simple enough--the knife he was holding for the backstab is instead thrown. At such a short range, Nassir had to hope that it would be enough to buy the mercenary a hit...though something in the back of his head told him otherwise. The girl was a bit too skilled for such easy hits.
COMBATSYS: Riko dodges Nassir's Long Shot.
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Riko 1/------=/=======|=======\==-----\1 Nassir
Too skilled, yes.
Riko flows out of the way. The knife flies past her, missing by scant milimetres. But a miss is a miss, and the girl's untouched. Behind her, the blade slams into a wall, embedding itself in the shattered remains of what was once a piece of installation artwork. Actually, the knife probably /improves/ the artistic merit of the piece.
There's gotta be some kinda statement there.
Riko's skilled, but so is Nassir. She realises that. Though she doesn't give voice to the thought. Riko rarely fights in a silent mien. She's always talking. It's like stage magician's patter. Meaningless words. Misdirection. Against Nassir, though...
A crack of wood, and she stabs with the picture frame in her hand. By now, it's nothing but a slender stick, with a jagged broken-off edge. There's not really enough force in the thrust to do much damage, though - and by the time it reaches Nassir, it'd pretty much be at full extension.
But impaling him isn't the point here. No. It's just to provide a conduit.
For the first time in this fight, Riko unleashes her own chi. A crackling, blazing blue. Not the same shade as Nassir's. Brighter. Blue-white. Like electricity.
Which is exactly what it is.
Lightning conducting down the length of the improvised weapon. From Riko. To Nassir. Into earth. A circuit.
COMBATSYS: Nassir parries Riko's Light Fantastic EX!
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Riko 1/-------/=======|=======\===----\1 Nassir
"GHHHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!"
Oh, man, that...probably wasn't too good. In true Capcom fashion, the electric current running through his body doesn't just cause his muscles to lock into place, but turns the youth into a momentary biology lesson. The rib bone, it's connected to the spine-bone. The spine bone, it's connected to the skull-bone...
Nassir jerks away from the stick after a couple of seconds, muscles largely out of his control. The end result leaves him jittering and jiggling about two feet away...
...before almost comically turning into a pile of dust.
Much like a Looney Toon, electricity was simply the death of him, the pile capped off by a shadowy blue beret. Another duplicate, undoubtedly. At least this time, it wouldn't be much of a surprise for the ninja-student. Indeed, it might even leave her with enough time to react to the inevitable counterattack. Unlike the first, the attack comes from above--Nassir somersaulting overhead, knives in both of his hands. Afterimages follow closely behind, mimicking the motions made by his clothes as he moves, the form of the soldier and the downward stab of the knives in both of his hands. If all went according to Nassir's plan, Riko would end up with a series of stabwounds in her collar area, chi versions following closely behind.
COMBATSYS: Riko blocks Nassir's Under a United Banner EX.
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Riko 1/-----==/=======|===----\-------\0 Nassir
Splintering wood.
What's left of the picture frame disintegrates completely...as Riko flips round, interposing it in the path of Nassir's descending strikes. The frame takes the damage. Not her.
She anticipated Nassir's move.
Her eyes narrow, as the wood pieces fall. A stray shard slashing past her neck, drawing a thin line of blood.
She might have predicted that, but it doesn't mean she's any closer to hitting him. He's done a remarkable job of stopping everything she's thrown at him. She scored a few good blows early in the fight - but that means nothing if she can't finish him.
The girl's muscles contract. Her legs flex at the knee. Her spine tenses.
Then she releases the force, rising into the air. Spinning head-over-heels, driving one leg in a wheel kick. Aiming to hit Nassir while he's still in mid-air, before he can disengage.
COMBATSYS: Riko successfully hits Nassir with Light Kick.
- Power hit! -
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Riko 1/-----==/=======|=====--\-------\0 Nassir
Well, if there was ever a time to kick Nassir out of the air, that would probably be it. Given precious little time to actually maneuver, Nassir takes the blow about as solidly as he could. Foot meeting with stomach, Riko could probably hear the air rush out of Nassir lungs before gravity did the rest of her work for her. Landing upside down in an unpleasant heap, Nassir doesn't pull any magic out of his hat this time--no disappearing act, no illusion, no lies, no tricks.
Slumping to one side, Nassir looked up at his assailant, sucking in a deep breath and breaking his silence.
"You've done this before."
Not much time would be allowed for a retort, though, as Nassir brought his hand up to his bandolier. Still in a prone position, Nassir casually tossed a grenade upwards, much higher than necessary and likely to scrape the ceiling unless stopped. Much like the earlier grenades, it was unlikely to actually impact Riko, though some of the debris might strike her...
...or if he was particularly lucky, the grenade would catch her on the way back down, and explode at face level. Worst comes to worse, it's an adequate distraction from his vulnerable position...we hope.
COMBATSYS: Riko interrupts Long Shot from Nassir with Houdini.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|=======\==-----\1 Nassir
Riko lands, crouching to absorb the shock of her touchdown. In the wake of her kick to Nassir. She straightens, turning, looking at the boy. She arches one eyebrow as he throws the grenade, tilting her head to the side. You'd expect her to dodge.
She's certainly proven agile enough, in this fight.
She doesn't. The grenade detonates near her head, a shattering blast that tears plaster from the ceiling, an explosion that rips through the girl's body.
Through.
Because that's when she dissolves in her own flash of light.
No disappearing acts from Nassir? No illusions from Nassir?
Then it's Riko's turn.
A second flash. Like a lightning strike, leaving the distinct acrid tang of ozone in the air. Riko's now standing /behind/ Nassir, where the soldier boy's prone on the ground.
Riko flicks a foot out, electricity crackling round her body. Near enough to the boy that all the voltage...just discharges into his spine.
"sajld;wqjeeeiw3o47j3hhdneuu4i3hbdjslkadjas;lkjdlsakjd"
Nassir's second death-by-electric-chair is a bit less dramatic than the first--grounded in reality for the time being, the charge simply does what damage it would normally do: Forcing the youth to lose control of his body oncemore, sending thick tendrils of smoke off of his body and more or less knocking the fight out of the soldier.
This battle was essentually over, the girl managing to overcome him in convincing fashion...and demonstrating no small degree of skill in the process. He'd have to remember the name, once he reviewed the footage. He'd have to visit this Riko in the near future, and...well, do something other than take a beating.
Once some semblance of control is regained over his body, the Shank Soldier attempted to push himself back up to his feet. To his deep dismay, he simply couldn't conjure the strength necessary, his body giving out on him. His spirit, though? That was something else entirely. Willing Spirit, meet Weak Body.
Lacking the strength to properly get up, Nassir wedged his hand under him, grasping ahold of something and then pulling the hand free. Whatever he pulled, it was small enough to fit comfortably in his clenched fist.
"I performed below standard," Nassir mumbles, arcing his head upwards. "And you took advantage. I can not fault you."
And then, the inevitable explosion, signifigantly larger than the previous offerings, large enough to swallow Nassir's body within the radius, along with quite a bit of the ground surrounding him. Most of the flame shoots upwards, as opposed to outwards, which is probably quite the blessing for camera staff and whichever bystanders were dumb enough to remain in audience when the explosives started to fly. For Riko, though? An element of danger.
COMBATSYS: Nassir can no longer fight.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Riko dodges Nassir's The End of Struggle.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|
An element of danger, yes. But when you train with an instructor whose idea of physical conditioning is to hit you repeatedly with pneumatic jackhammers...
...You learn to get really really tough...
...and how to /get out of the way/.
By the time the final pieces of red-hot grenade shrapnel hit the ground, Riko's all the way on the other side of the gallery, having covered the distance in one incredible leap. She's hanging off the wall, facing the floor. Her skates against the vertical surface, hands splayed out for extra balance. Like some kind of female teenage Spider-Man.
She rolls down the wall, hopping off when she reaches the floor. She studies Nassir, critically, examining the fallen soldier-youth with a practiced eye. Before giving a small nod.
"Then," she says, "we need to do this again."
She raises a hand in a vague approximation of a salute.
COMBATSYS: Riko has ended the fight here.
And so, another episode of Neo League Fighting comes to a conclusion. Riko stood victorious over Nassir Mahomet. The manager who thought he'd make a quick buck selling NLF infused art merch would be lucky to simply break even without some serious litigation--serious damage was done to his establishment, cumulating in a hole in the ceiling and fairly intense fire damage.
Well, lucky to break even unless his insurance was up to date and under someone dumb enough to cover fights in the premium. Cha-CHING, baby. All the way to the bank.
Ambulance sirens could be heard in the distance, probably to take care of those who were injured due to the area-of-effect blasts. They would likely be fine--Nassir's choice of weaponry was generally made with his needs and wishes in mind: Even with something as potentially devastating as a grenade, he could approach surgeon-like precision with his weapons.
And Nassir himself?
Once the smoke clears and debris settles, cameramen might be surprised to find...nothing but more debris. Nassir was either reduced to eye irritant by his kamazake finale, or had one last trick up his sleeve for the young ninja.
Log created by Nassir, and last modified on 11:01:41 05/05/2007.