Description: Luc decides to throw a book at Marisol. CHAOS ENSUES!!!!!
For Marisol O'Connell, there are three periods which she likes best: lunchtime, study hour and, of course, the very last period of the school day.
This just so happens to be study period.
While a good handful of the class actually study, their noses buried in texts and notebooks, furiously studying for their upcoming exams, Marisol and a small group of girls are all seated together near and open window. While the others choose their desks to sit in, the redhead is seated on the window's sill, one long leg stretched out before her as the other is propped rather immodestly up, to allow her hand to prop atop her knee. In the other hand is a bottle of soft pink nail polish.
"So Marisol," one of the girls asks, a lazy-eyed curly blonde who flips absently through a girl's fashion magazine boredly. "What are you doing this weekend?"
"Probably fighting," Marisol replies rather swiftly. The blonde yawns boredly.
"Why do you like getting beat up all the time?" A pigtailed brunette asks, looking up from her idle drawings in a spiral notebook. In a heart is "Karen + Ricardo" with really stupid doodles of wedded stickfigures and ponies and other nonsense.
"ExCUSE me?" the redhead replies, shooting those hooded grays up with a spiteful glare, leaning forward toward her, as if she were going to get up and punch her. The brunette shrinks immediately, lifting her notebook up to shield her mouth. "I-I didn't mean it l-like that!"
"Hey, leave Karen alone," another girl, a soft-faced girl replies, long black hair styled in an Asian fashion. She sets her textbook down, long fingers reaching up to adjust the horn rim glasses on her hawk-like nose. "She was just asking."
For a moment, the redhead looks bemused. Ultimately, however, full lips pull back lightly over her pearly whites, a soft "feh" offered as she paints the last of her nails. Karen has since calmed, and has gone back to drawing idly in her spiral.
"Whatever. I just like it. Besides, how the hell else am I supposed to get better if I just keep practicing with my grandpa or punching bags all day. You guys wouldn't understand." Shoulders idly shrug before she lifts a hand up, idly rubbing the band-aid on her cheek.
"Well," the blonde asks, looking up from her magazine article. "After all the silly fighting do you want to go shopping?"
Screwing the nail polish bottle shut, Marisol's lips sweep into a broad smirk as she sets it aside and throws her arm outside the window. She needs her nails to dry, you see. "Hell yeah I do. Did you see that sale they were having?"
Study period. Probably the most useless, god-forsaken period the high school education system has ever established. They might as well have named it 'prissy girl gossip' period of 'for the love of god skip me I'm worthless' period. Honestly.
Just WHO studies for anything, anyway?
There is one student in particular who has seemed to take the alternative name of 'for the love of god skip me I'm worthless' period seriously. For most of the semester, this student has hardly even graced the classroom with his presence; typically he could even be found right outside the class, lounging against a tree or, more frequently, kicking other students directly in the ass for no real reason other than it was a 'decent way to pass the time.' Today, though, today--
Luc Schroedinger barges in rudely to his class with the wide swing of the pristine white door crashing against the doorstopper unceremoniously.
"MAN, I can't believe I made it here on time."
"You're ten minutes late, Mr. Schroedinger--"
"Oh, go to hell."
That was fifteen minutes ago. Since then, Luc has spent most of his time leaning back against a chair, staring blankly at the ceiling and clasping gloved hands against the base of his skull. Occasionally, he'll open his book -- 'Pride and Prejudice,' assigned to him in his literature class. He read the first page, found himself incredibly bored by all the fancy language, and has since been only occasionally pretending to read it in the hopes of passing the time quicker. It doesn't help. And Luc is left to stare boredly at the ceiling, until one thing catches his notice...
... the giggling of schoolgirls.
It's not necessarily THAT which catches his attention, really. More, it's what someone of the little whiney annoying girly clique /says./ 'What are you doing this weekend?'
'Probably fighting,' Luc's ear perks, and slowly, his green gaze shifts downward... to the sight of a girl. Propped against the window. Looking like a total idiot. His brows furrow, and slowly... Luc Schroedinger pushes himself out of his chair.
It's about the time that Marisol is gabbing about the newest sale and blah blah shoes that the girls might notice a shadow looming over them. If any of them turn to look, they'll see a single figure -- Luc, holding his novel in one hand, staring POINTEDLY at one person and one person alone -- Marisol.
"So," He begins casually, eyes half-lidded and bored,
"You like to get beat up in fights?"
Gray eyes briefly lift at the arrival of Luc Schroedinger, a bored expression offered by the redhead before she snorts at the exchange between the "delinquent" and the teacher currently monitoring the study hall session. The guy is of little interest to her, especially dressed like he is; instead, she turns her attention back onto her nails, eyeing her handiwork. She blows her nails idly, eyes them again...before she smirks.
For the most part, study hall would have gone on boring like always, had Luc not decided to invade on Marisol and her friends' conversation. Content with her nails as they are, she brings her hand back from outside and hands over the polish to the blonde. "Thanks," she says, to which the blonde replies with an idle nod, eyes glued instead on her article.
They begin to prattle on about things inconsequential, enjoying their "girly" conversation. All is going well...until Luc decides he's going to impose a bit more directly on them. It all begins with a looming shadow, which blocks the light from the classroom on Karen's notebook. She frowns, brown eyes sweeping up. Then, frozen.
"Oh no," she whispers, lifting her notebook up to her mouth yet again. In response the blonde looks up, along with the dark-haired girl, both of whom seem vaguely if not remotely impressed. Marisol, however, continues to eye her nails. Has SHE even noticed Luc? Probably not. Clearly his reputation precedes him, where the tiny and meek brunette is concerned.
When he speaks, the redhead just continues to eye her hand. It would seem that her nails are far more intriguing than the German. After a solid minute of awkward silence among...well...everyone, gray eyes lift up and settle on the dark-haired male student.
"Ha ha, you're funny," she replies, sliding off the window's sill. Much like Luc, she chooses not to wear Pacific's uniform today; instead, she wears her own variation, a pleated skirt and white short-sleeved blouse. Grinning broadly, the girl tilts her head arrogantly to one side, hand resting on her curvy hips.
"Buuuut, I guess that's to be expected of a guy dressed like a clown."
See, this is the problem with girls. They're all stuck up, prissy know-it-alls who think they're soooooo fuuuuunny. Luc's never understood the concept of female fighters; as far as he's figured it, they high kick their way to victory with short skirts. But if one of them is claiming they're a FIGHTER, than that piques his interest. Whenever it comes to fighting, girl or boy, young or elderly, smart or retarded -- bring it on.
It seems for the tremendous amount of effort he put forth walking over, though, all he's getting are oh-so witty remarks. For a moment, Luc frowns. His look is one of simple irritation, tugging lightly at his jacket with his free hand. He almost seems thoughtful for a moment --
"I don't get it," And that's about it. Luc says this blandly, before giving a derisive snort, "but it still sounded pretty stupid. I didn't ASK if you thought I was funny."
The other girls are ignored. Whether they're afraid of him or don't even know who he is, to him, they don't exist. The whole room has just stopped existing, in fact, except for Marisol. He doesn't hear the teacher get up, pleading a simple, "Oh please, not during MY class period..." But unfortunately, it is during his classroom.
"I asked if YOU LIKE TO FIGHT!"
And in one fluid surge of motion, Luc reels back his right hand... and then chucks something at Marisol.
She might notice the title 'PRIDE AND PREJUDICE' seeking to bean her straight in the forehead and launch her out of the window.
It's not his fault Marisol doesn't know how to answer a question.
"Dumb girls."
COMBATSYS: Luc has started a fight here.
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Luc 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Marisol has joined the fight here.
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Marisol 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Luc
COMBATSYS: Marisol endures Luc's Thrown Object.
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Marisol 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Luc
And this is the problem with delinquent guys. They're arrogant jerks who think everyone should play by their rules and listen to them, sticking out their chests and butting their heads into others' business. Like now. Like Luc, who now has all of Marisol's undivided attention at this point. Full lips are pulled into an amused smirk, hands resting quite comfortably - and perhaps cockily - on her hips.
If there's one thing the two have in common, it is clearly their love of a fight.
"What's the matter?" she chides, leaning forward a touch and lifting a hand from her hip. A finger extends, pointing toward his forehead as she smirks a broad, toothy grin. "Was I using too many complex words?" It wasn't funny to him, he clarifies. Marisol stands up right, arms folding across her chest before she laughs sharply. The rest of the class look up, all while her friends politely rise from their seats and shrink back, closer to the wall.
They know what's coming. And it does shortly thereafter.
Smoky gray eyes widen as the book comes flying, but Marisol makes no move to AVOID it - instead, she suddenly smirks wide and steps toward it, letting it crash against her forehead and fly off to the side. She doesn't stop there, however. Instead she lifts a leg up off the ground and attempts to plant it right in his groin.
"Who the hell fights with their goddamned textbooks!? Are you a MAN or a fucking pussy!?"
The teacher, meanwhile, hides his face in his book and whines lightly, "Please refrain from s-such language, students. Pleeeease?"
COMBATSYS: Luc endures Marisol's Light Kick!
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Marisol 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Luc
Man, these girls. You'd think she'd be too busy painting her nails a faint color of cotton candy pink or something to put up much of a fight. But apparently not; as soon as Luc flings the book, he notes the fact that Marisol actually moves /into/ the toss. The frown that had previously creased Luc's lips begins a slow upwards climb, until, as soon as the book strikes...
... he's grinning /nice/ and wide.
"GREAT!"
But then she has to go and ruin the mood by talking. As she moves fluidly into and /through/ the book and makes her snarky, stupid commentary, Luc narrows his eyes and begins, in a mirror to Marisol, to rush right at /her/ at the same time she comes at him. She swings out, and Luc bellows, "Who the hell COMPLAINS ABOUT GETTING A BOOK THROWN AT THEM?!"
The foot comes rushing out to lance right into Luc's crotch. But instead of trying to avoid it, he instead moves /into/ it, letting the calf of her leg strike him as he rears his right hand back. A pause.
"Goddamnit, you hit like a /girl./" It really should go without saying, but these are the simple things that escape Luc's notice.
He doesn't give much of a window for snide commentary, though. Soon after, he's thrusting his fist forward, aiming to strike Marisol straight in the chest. It's not really a perverse attempt; because if it connects, likely she'll be knocked off her feet soon after by a sudden outward /explosion/ of black and blue chi, delivering enough concussive force to launch her backwards if she's not careful.
COMBATSYS: Luc successfully hits Marisol with Medium Punch.
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Marisol 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Luc
Pressing through his book attack, the fiery redhead makes her pursuit, advancing on the German without hesitation. Grinning wide, the girl seems utterly fearless, unafraid of potential repercussion - she just MOVES. Her friends, on the other hand, offer mixed reactions as she advances the fight: the blonde looks bored, the dark-haired girl frowns and the brunette looks fearful, hidden behind her spiral.
Closing in within seconds, Marisol's pristine white sneaker raises up...before it suddenly swings outward and punts the guy clean in his crotch. Impact earns him a huge, wolfish grin, gray eyes wide with delight. And yet, he lets it happen to him. "I wasn't complaining!" she cries back, "I was asking a rhetorical question, asshole!"
She hits like a girl? For the moment, her brow ticks. Then she looks positively livid.
Arms swing up, attempting to block the incoming fist, but he proves faster; struck, the girl is punched in the chest before she's blasted back, crashing against the window sill's edge. A grunt escapes her, eyes wide before she briefly buckles forward. She spends a moment breathing before she lifts a hand up, rubbing her chest.
When she looks up, however, her lips are pulled wide across her face.
"Ahahahaha! You call that a punch!?" she cries, just before she charges forward, her left fist swinging in a downward punch. It's the herald of a series of punches; the next, a right hook aimed for his cheek follows before she drops both to her side and angles her body and dips low before she rises outward, toward his chest to punch both straight into his chest. A blast of dandelion-yellow chi will help introduce him to the nearby wall if he's not careful.
COMBATSYS: Marisol successfully hits Luc with El Matador.
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Marisol 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Luc
She hits like a girl. A big ol' girly girl. And so Luc reciprocates with a man's punch; or at least, as close as it can be when mixing an outward oozing of chi. His berserker rage is more than enough cause for power to just start /leaking/ from him at this point, whisps of black and red power crackling around him even for a brief moment after the initial impact of his fist against her chest.
Simple, direct. And apparently pretty effective. As Marisol sails backward, Luc shakes out his hand, frowning as he smacks it against his other open palm and begins to methodically crack his knuckles. "Maaaan, you kinda suck, huh? Maybe I should just go back to reading my boo--"
And there she comes again, shrieking out like some kind of horrid banshee. Her voice cuts him off before her fist does, crashing into his head. It sends him staggering, as does the next hook punch, snapping his head to the side. The chest shot is enough to send him staggering /backwards/ with the burst of chi, crashing through a desk and sending other students scurrying before he ultimately smacks /right/ into a wall. "... maybe it didn't hurt..." He begins... before he LEAPS into the air. He moves /fast/, blazing a path through the air and STRAIGHT for Marisol, aiming to slam his booted foot right into Marisol's face. If it connects, the motion will carry through with an explosive lance of black chi, which will be more than enough to carry both him /and/ Marisol straight out the window.
"... BECAUSE OF ALL THAT DAMN PADDING!" It's not fair.
Girls cheat.
COMBATSYS: Marisol fails to interrupt Tyrant Strike from Luc with Iron Butterfly.
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Marisol 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Luc
Though his power may be strange, Marisol seems unimpressed. She just doesn't seem to care, in fact; instead, she continues to grin and grin broadly, even as she peels herself off the window sill. A hand lifts, the back of it running idly across her band-aid'd cheek, even as he speaks. He does not draw a scowl from her. Instead, the grin gets broader.
"You dumb ass," she growls, lips pulling back over her pearly whites. "You have no room to talk. This fight. Isn't. OVER!!"
With those three words she charges forward, lashing out repeatedly before she "seals" the proverbial deal, slamming both fists into his chest. He staggers through desks, ultimately hitting the wall. The teacher flinches and hides his head under his attendance book. Students gawk, looking a mix of surprised and angry. This is study period!!
"What was that?" she calls, lifting her head high as she smirks broadly. "I couldn't HEAR you over all that overconfidence of yours!"
But the fight ISN'T over. He leaps, and though Marisol's hand lashes up from her side, glowing with lots of yellowy chi, his boot smacks her in the face. It staggers her, but not as much as the chi that follows - blasted back and ultimately OUT of the window, she falls a story before she corrects herself midair, one hand pinning her skirt down. She lands in a three-point stance before she shoots her eyes up, focusing on the other student.
"That's IT!?"
Though he'll only admit it to himself and likely when no one is around, this girl hits pretty hard -- and not like a girl at all. It might be suspicious to him, but he's already punched her in the chest; that was real enough for him. So the only logical conclusion is that she's some sort of freakish, obscene tomboy. That doesn't stop him, of course, from kicking the holy hell out of her.
She's the one who said he's funny like a clown, after all.
Even if he's still not sure if that was meant as an insult or not.
Upon impact, Luc just keeps flying until he, like Marisol, goes STRAIGHT through the window. Unlike her, though, his landing is smooth sailing the entire way down, landing cleanly on his feet in a brief crouch. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Luc swivels around to STARE at Marisol as she lands, frowning decisively as he rolls his neck.
"Man, you talk to much," He starts blandly, lifting shoulders in a brief roll, "You should try to spend less time talking and more time fighting, you..." His sentence trails, and slowly, Luc furrows his brows. It seems he's drawn a brief blank.
"You... you bimbo!"
He doesn't attack her, however. Instead, green eyes size Marisol up, taking a brief pause in the fight. "Whatever! You're the one attacking me with gay flower power or whatever!" Damn pastel colors. They're annoying, too! "Stop whining and hit me!"
COMBATSYS: Luc focuses on his next action.
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Marisol 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Luc
It would seem then, at least to Luc, Marisol is a bit of a paradox. While she outwardly looks, talks, walks and acts like a girl, her brawn would definitely suggest precisely otherwise. The fact she actually takes hits kind of well is perhaps a little baffling too. So far, however, she hasn't really shown any stances. What kind of fighter IS she?
One that gets kicked in the face, for one. Out of the window both she and Luc go, falling a story before either lands in the grass. It earns them a few odd looks from a handful of delinquent students standing under a tree smoking, their faces utterly bemused before they simply jolt and flee. Above, at the open window, most of the class has gathered to eagerly watch the fight.
"Oh shut up!" she counter-complains, rolling her gray eyes before she tosses her head. Lifting a hand from her side, she gathers her red locks in a bundle, the other hand dipping briefly into her cleavage. When it's removed, a hair tie rests between fingers. Deftly, the redhead puts her hair in a ponytail.
"Take your own advice, while you're at it, ass! And you've got no room to call me names. What the hell are you wearing, anyway? Last time I checked this was school, not the damn Cirque de Soliel." Oh, now he's just goading her. It makes her grin broadly.
Legs stir, feet parting to shoulder's width as her arms come up, fists held near her jaw. A boxer-like stance, if anything. The grin widens just a bit...before she bursts forward and swings her punch out and forward, to straight punch him right across his face.
"Who the hell ARE you anyway, you goofy-assed punk?!"
COMBATSYS: Luc interrupts Medium Punch from Marisol with Explosive Round.
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Marisol 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Luc
Marisol comes fast for a girl. Luc, however, is at the very least /prepared/ fro when Marisol comes at him this time around. No annoying goof-ups and getting hit with flowery pastel chi that makes him feel like a doofus. Very calmly, his right hand lifts out of his pocket, and extends outward. His lips begin to peel back into a grin as Marisol approaches.
She screams out. Her fist slams RIGHT into his face in a vicious hook. Yet, at the very same moment, Luc simply... snaps his fingers, right in front of Marisol's face.
Who the hell is HE?
"I'm the goofy-assed punk that's kicking your ass!"
That could have come out better.
Regardless, soon after he makes this bold proclamation, a spark of chi erupts into a full-blown /burst/ of black-blue power in the form of a briefly sustained sphere. The globe of chi slams STRAIGHT into into Marisol, exploding with enough force to send her far back and away from Luc as the German wipes away blood from his lip. She still hits hard. What a freak.
"What the hell is a Sirkee de Sawliel supposed to be?! Stop making up words when you're insulting someone!" Hollering this at Marisol as she goes flying, Luc mutters unpleasantly, stamping a single foot against the floor and holding his ground. "Besides, I'm not the one dressing up like a skank! What, you think that's supposed to be distracting?! Get real! Dumbass!"
Charging without an ounce of fear, Marisol boldly pursues the arrogant punk, lips pulled wide across her face in a huge smirk as she hollers. He doesn't scare her, not like he does some of her classmates. As far as she's concerned, Luc is just some stuck-up punk who thinks he's better than he really is. Boy is he ever wrong, as far as SHE'S concerned.
The hook comes. Knuckles crash violently against his face, but he doesn't move or budge or even try to defend himself. He just stands there, and he's grinning like a retard. "Get BENT!" she yells in his face. She likely regrets everything when he lifts his fingers and snaps them like an idiot in her face. What the HELL is he doing?
She soon realizes when she's blasted back with raw energy, sent flying a good ways. She lands on her side and rolls a few turns, ultimately ending ON her side. For a moment the girl winces, rubbing her face before a hand punches the grass, knuckles buried before she pushes herself up off the ground.
"God, you're an uneducated retard, aren't you?" she complains, rising again to her feet. She pauses a moment, frowning at her skirt and the grass stains on her shirt. Doesn't he realize what a pain in the ass they are? Exhaling annoyedly, she dusts her skirt off, swatting away stray blades of grass.
"Distracting? What the hell, you idiot?" Tilting her head, she lifts a finger, pressing it idly against her temple. "Are you stupid? It's called CLOTHING. What the hell else am I supposed to wear?" Clearly, she buys herself some time. "You're so annoying, and I don't even know what the hell else to call you, except "dumbass."" Pausing, gray eyes roll up to the sky, arms resting on her hips as she considers.
"I admit it has a nice ring to it though, dumbass." Leaning forward at the waist, she lifts her finger once more and pokes her temple with a huge, toothy grin. "Dumbass, dumbass!"
COMBATSYS: Marisol gains composure.
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Marisol 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Luc
Here they are, fighting, and Marisol is more concerned about grass stains than the fight itself. Luc watches almost impassively as Marisol gets back up onto her feet, and...starts dusting herself off and looking annoyed over the state of her attire. "... che!" Grunting distastefully, Luc shakes his head. What's she trying to do now? Isn't this a /fight/?
Of course, though Luc may be a little thick-headed once in a while, he can spot when people are trying to stall for time in a fight. And so, as she starts to prattle on and on, Luc's lips pull into a frown, his eyes lidding slowly. "Stop wasting my time! Why don't you just do me a favor and say 'uncle,' and then I can just go get a soda or something. You're just pissing me off!"
But, she's catching her breath. Getting ready to fight again. So, Luc pauses for a moment... before the tirade comes. Dumbass. She's calling HIM a dumbass? His right brow twitches briefly, his lips pulling back into a snarl. "/I'M/ a dumbass? Go to hell! You know what?!"
Luc's legs tense, and in one, simple motion, he launches himself /straight/ off the ground, making a dead run for Marisol as he keeps himself low to the ground. He moves /fast/, blurring across the lush grassy ground before he pushes off into a leap, right knee extended outward and aimed straight for Marisol's gut.
"YOU'RE FAT!"
COMBATSYS: Marisol endures Luc's Light Kick.
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Marisol 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Luc
Of COURSE she's concerned about her attire. The school day isn't nearly over, and she has to walk around in this grass stained skirt and shirt. His grunts, meanwhile, fall over her like water on a duck's back; ignoring him, Marisol just sweeps her hand and fingertips idly across her skirt's hem before she idly tugs the hem of her white blouse down, nestling it into place. When content, the redhead looks up.
"Wasting YOUR time? Ahahaha, what the hell!" Looking thoroughly amused, she lets her lips pull wide across her face, grinning wide. "You're the one who started it. And here I was, content to chat with my friends, but noooOOO. You had to come traipsing up and throw your shitty novel at me. And really, me? Say uncle?" She pauses to laugh harshly.
"Never. Get bent."
Still grinning, Marisol lifts her head up, grinning still - perhaps more than before - as he argues back. "Yeah. Didn't you hear me the first three times? Dumbass. Ahaha, and what? What can you possibly have to sling at me this time?"
With a blur of motion he moves, but Marisol does not. Instead she squares her shoulders and braces for the chi-laced foot which impacts soundly. She budges slightly, but otherwise stands firm. She's...what? Fat?
Fat?
/FAT/?
She says nothing. Instead, Marisol lets her leg do the talking, and starts out by attempting to sweep her leg up and clip the toe of her shoe right against the side of his face.
COMBATSYS: Marisol successfully hits Luc with Red Clover.
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Marisol 1/-----==/=======|=======\==-----\1 Luc
Hell no.
The other fist clenches tightly, long, well-manicured nails digging into her calloused palm. Then, with one, heavy swing the girl lashes out, her fist aglow with chi as she hooks him across the jaw with enough force and power to dislocated someone's jaw. It doesn't help the chi, upon impact, explodes, to send him flying awkwardly away.
See, now.
/That's more like it./
Marisol's hanging around like a little twerp seems to come to a halt at the moment that he feels her take the entire brunt of his attack. Luc grins. He grins nice and wide... and then he just starts to laugh loudly. The moment that chi-infused knee crashes into her, he just bursts out with a rude bout of laughter.
"/FINALLY/ gonna start fighting seriously, you dumb bi--"
And then he's cut off by another strike to his face. His jaw snaps shut, as his head twists to his right, sending him staggering back a single step. The next blow that follows sends him reeling backwards, the air knocked out of him, before the third blow causes him to cough up a brief spurt of blood. And then...
She gives him a single, hellaciously explosive punch to the jaw.
Unfortunately, the impact might not be quite AS grandiose as she had hoped. Luc goes spiralling through the air, though his jaw isn't quite dislocated; as evidenced when he starts LAUGHING again midway through his flight, landing on the ground feet first in a crouch, the sheer force causing him to skid backwards a few steps. It's a severe pain in the ass, to be sure. It stings like all holy hell, but even so--
"... I like you. You're..."
In one moment, Luc is in a crouch. In the next, he is leaping STRAIGHT at Marisol, intent on landing right into her defenses in an instant before he leaps /straight/ up, aiming to plant a single, mighty boot into her chin in a straight vertical jump kick.
COMBATSYS: Marisol endures Luc's Anschlag Ereignis.
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Marisol 1/=======/=======|-------\-------\0 Luc
And with a sickening crack, the first blow connects with an unholy amount of strength behind it. It carries with it enough force to easily launch Marisol into the air. That's not the end, however. As soon as she reaches the apex of her ascent, Luc leaps up /right/ after the schoolgirl, launching a second kick into her back. He leaps again, repeating the procedure, striking her with jumping kick after jumping kick into the exact same location on the woman's back.
At the six kick, Luc lands. His body tenses, his chi swirling around him like a vortex of power. This time, when he leaps, he launches off like a rocket. Twisting in midair, he delivers one, final kick towards Marisol -- a titanic axe-kick aimed for her gut, delivered with a gutteral, "GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!"
At the moment of impact, that chi swells out around his foot and then EXPLODES outward in a column of black energy, spiralling into Marisol to send her blasting into the ground with such a strong force that, when she impacts, it should create her own, personal Maricrater, with Luc falling soon behind her.
"... you're still a bimbo, though."
It crashes, yes. But it likely isn't as effective as he wanted it to be.
You see, the moment it crashes in, Marisol uses their closeness as an easy means to counterattack. Arrogance clouds his judgement and, with one grand twirl of her body she lifts a leg up and smacks him in the face. Part of her, deep inside, likes the fact it shut him up right good. But she's not quite finished. After a series of punches, she sends him flying with a burst of that yellowy chi he seems to hate.
She doesn't make the mistake of letting him escape her sight. Turning to face him as he flies off to the side, Marisol's lips pull into a swift frown as she glares his way. Is he laughing? For a moment, she seems baffled. Then?
She smirks broadly.
"Oh, is that SO!?" she bellows, watching as he collects himself and suddenly leaps at her like a wild animal, followed by a boot to her face. She doesn't move though. She takes it, probably more like a man than most of the students here. Her face reels upwardly, however, likely painful, and launches her upwards. He follows.
A second kick causes her to jerk upon impact, as does the series of kicks that follow, his chi-empowered finale enough to send her blasting toward the earth, where she craters upon impact, a plume of dirt rising in the wake of her impact. There is an odd stillness in the air. She's a bimbo, he declares.
Just as soon as those words leave his mouth, however, she suddenly rockets out of the plume of dust, a fist raised at her shoulder, angled so that, should it land, it strikes him oh-so nicely at a downward angle across the face...
COMBATSYS: Marisol can no longer fight.
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Luc 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Luc fails to interrupt Cloud Nine from Marisol with Hellacious Headbutt.
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Luc 0/-------/--=====|
Upon impact, a resounding CRACK echoes throughout the space between them, her fist colliding with the side of his jaw. In a flurry she moves, fueled by pure adrenaline; the other fist rises, hooking him across the face before her opposite hand swings, another hook executed. She pauses only to bend her knees slightly, her hand twisting at her side. Her palm turns upwards and, with one smooth motion, she slams the heel of said palm into his jaw.
Again, however, she crouches. This time, though, Marisol shows a bit of flexibility; firing off a backflip, she lets the toe of her shoe collide into his jaw, to knock him with surprisingly fierce force airborne. Landing in a crouch, she leaps up, fist aglow as she delivers a chi-imbued uppercut to his stomach midair, delivering a loud "HAAAH!" in the process.
After she lands, however, she staggers back a few steps, crashing back-first into a tree, desperately struggling for a breath like a fish out of water. Those gray eyes are fixed entirely on the dark-haired young man, a huge, wolfish grin still on her face.
"And...y...you're a dick," she states. Pausing a moment, she tries to catch her breath, eyes drawing shut as she does so.
See, Luc has a plan. He knows that tell-tale silence all too well. It's like those dramatic moments in those action movies where you think the monster is dead, and then --
BAM!
There it comes like a miniature rocket of horror, with red hair a-blazin' and skirt a-flutterin'. JUST like in the action horror movies.
And that's why Luc has a plan. He thinks it's a good plan. It might not be the most intelligible or even remotely sane of tactics, given how fast that Marisol is rushing at him. But, the moment that Marisol launches herself out of her very own crater, his head is reeling backwards. He lurches /forward/, prepared to deliver upon her one of the most vicious and unrelenting headbutts in existance--
A solid, sickening CRACK cuts through before silence overtakes the school grounds once more. Time seems to freeze for a split-second, the very moment that Marisol's fist strikes Luc's jaw just before he can carry through with that mighty strike. And then, that brief pause fades, and Luc gets the all holy hell /beaten/ out of him resoundly by Marisol's unrelenting strikes. Knocked back further and further as the crap is just knocked out of him.
But it's not over. That kick launches him into the air, before he's finished off with a sudden, chi-powered gutblow, launched further into the air before he crashes, quite literally, through the wall of a nearby classroom. Rubble sprays outward, and schoolkids all stare almost blankly at Luc, who has now landed quite soundly against the opposing wall, having blown over a number of desks and now-unconscious students.
Luc mutters something incomprehensible. Well. That didn't go as planned. But even so, as Marisol's eyes shut, Luc slowly... SLOWLY... pulls himself up off the ground, wiping blood from his mouth and then spitting. In the middle of the classroom. Some of it may or may not land on the unconscious student beside him. "Mr. /SCHROEDINGER/!" The teacher begins, "You are in SO MUCH TROUBLE--"
"Blah blah blah, go fuck yourself." Is Luc's resolute answer as he staggers out of the classroom, grumbling and limping towards Marisol. "... stupid. How are we supposed to fight if you're sleeping?" His question might go to no one in particular though. And, unconscious or not, Luc swoops down to grip Marisol by the back of her shirt, pick her up... and then sling her over his shoulder. His destination? The nurse's office.
"Sirkee de Sawliel. What does that even mean."
COMBATSYS: Luc takes no action.
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Luc 0/-------/--=====|
COMBATSYS: Luc has ended the fight here.
When all is said and done, both fighters seem to be a mess. Luc, however, fares a little better than the redhead it seems; she finds comfort for her thoroughly battered body against the cool bark of an aging oak, gray eyes struggling to stay focused on him as he emerges from the nice hole he's made in the school, to the dismay of a teacher, as well as a few students.
Contented by her handiwork, the girl lets her eyes drift to a close for a moment of rest. Lord knows she needs it. He hits like a semi when he wants to, despite her posturing and declarations otherwise. Grinning softly to herself, Marisol breathes slowly. That alone is a chore and a half.
Though he approaches, she seems content to remain shut-eyed. His words earn him a weak smirk, shoulders shuddering in a soft, cautious laugh. "Sh...shut up, I'm not s-sleeping," she assures, though she makes no efforts to open her eyes. She doesn't even protest when he picks her up like some kind of kitten and slings her over a shoulder. It would likely hurt too much to smack him in the face.
"It's...some fruity performance...group," she mumbles, otherwise lax as she is carted away. "They dress funny. L-like you, asshole." A weak laugh escapes her before she coughs and mumbles a few curses and "ows."
"H-hey, what's your n-name anyway?" she asks. "You're pretty...strong, and I like strong people." For once, gray eyes open, lifting up to the skies above as she's hauled over a shoulder. "‘s...sides...I'm thinking of s-starting a team. Of...fighters worth a shit here. So far I've been disappointed."
Battered, but not beaten; while Marisol hits hard, it seems that in the end it just leaves Luc with a vaguely satisfied expression on his face as he leans down to pluck up the female fighter. It was a good fight. She did well, despite all her talking and whining and 'Sirkee'ing. And for the first time in a long time, Luc ends a fight completely satisfied and /without/ insulting his opponent.
"... You're a moron."
Well, for the most part.
Despite his injuries, it doesn't seem like the young Schroedinger heir has any qualms with carrying Marisol over his shoulder. She can posture all she wants, he knows when someone needs a band-aid. Possibly two. He's not a doctor, he can't know for certain.
But upon her weak explanation of her insult, Luc furrows his brows ever-so slightly, taking a thoughtful expression for a split second. "... oh. That's the worst insult I've ever heard. I don't dress funny." He grunts out, shifting her weight just a little as she begins to cough. "Jackass."
And then she makes her proposal. He actually pauses for a moment at her offer, head twisting to look at her incredulously. "..." Silence floats over the pair, before finally he speaks, "... sure, I'll join your stupid team. I get to help decide who doesn't suck, though." Implying not so subtly that she has terrible judgment. He begins to walk again, making a slow trek to the nurse's office.
"I take back what I said before. You're the manliest-hitting girl I've ever fought."
It's some kind of compliment.
[OOC] Marisol says, "ROFL"
[OOC] Marisol says, "ASKS HIS NAME AND HE DOES NOT SAY"
[OOC] Marisol says, "WHAT A DICK I MEAN GOD"
[OOC] Luc says, "OH SHIT I FORGOT"
[OOC] Luc says, "ONE SEC"
[OOC] Marisol says, "HURRY"
And, having suddenly stopped having an inexplicable brain seizure, Luc adds, "... I'm Luc. Luc Schroedinger." He doesn't ask for her name. If she doesn't give it, her name will just end up being the Monstrous Man-Girl in his mind. Simple as that.
Log created on 00:19:12 05/05/2007 by Luc, and last modified on 16:15:14 05/05/2007.