Jinchuu - [Pre] Honor Among Thieves

Description: [Riko vs. Nassir] Sometimes, prey isn't always the hunted. Sometimes you can turn the situation around. Nassir was supposed to be attacked. Instead, he makes an interesting proposition...



A darkened chamber.

This is the Ryouhara Dojo.

For anyone else, that name might suggest a large airy space, with wood floors, high ceilings, and rice-paper walls. Not so here.

Walls and floors, hewn from stone. Renforced with bare metal. The lightning is sporadic, dim, illumination coming from electric lanterns scattered through the room. A soft blue light. The chamber has the dank feel of something deep underground. The air moves with the distinct feel of atmosphere being circulated by fans and vents.

It is in this chamber which one Nassir Mahomet finds himself. What he sees upon awakening. For he is sprawled on the stone floor, beneath one of the pools of light cast by a lantern.

He is also not alone. There is one other beside him, a lithe figure, sitting just outside the light. Her face in shadow. Watching, waiting for him to wake up.

It might well be a display calculated to intimidate, to frighten.

But this is Nassir. For someone with his training, and more importantly, his /life experience/, something like this is nothing.

So no. Intimidation is not the goal here.

In front of the shadowed figure, recognisable, by profile and silhouette, as one Riko Koganei...

...is a low Japanese tea-table. Upon it is a neatly arranged tray. Two teacups, wisps of steam rising from them.

Just because Nassir was kidnapped...doesn't mean he isn't a guest.

What the..?!
As would be expected, Nassir does eventually awaken, eyes opening with a start. His last memory didn't quite sync with his current surroundings, eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. He'd just finished fighting someone...A Popinski brother? In...Howard Arena? And then...
Memories began to fill themselves in, slivers and shards of recollections piecing themselved into a jigsaw portrait.
He'd been kidnapped. Check.
Slowly, Nassir's body began to move, hands pushing against the floor in an attempt at bringing himself to all fours. The attempt stops short as his senses continue to fill his surroundings in...
...and notice the very large /thing/ above him.
Okay. That should probably be accounted for in future plans.
It's about then that he notices that he's not alone. Head turning in order to take a better look at his...
...his what? Captor? Fellow Captive?
"...Hello," Nassir mumbled, quietly.
What was going on, here?

"Hello," the girl says, brightly. She smiles, her teeth gleaming in the darkness. It's a nice, open, perfectly friendly smile. Waving a hand, she gestures to the low table sitting between them. In a clear voice, a pleasant soprano, she continues, "tea?"

Her eyes shine strangely in the reflected light cast by the lanterns overhead.

She's a slight unassuming figure, Riko is.

And in those four seconds, a ground rule was established. Nassir would be allowed to speak, at least to some degree. A bit of knowledge was learned as well--Riko was apparently one of his captors.
Settling into a knelt position, Nassir looked down at the offering. "Tea?" The words are a bit slow coming out of the soldier youth's mouth, repeating the offering and mulling it over. Every instinct told him that the offering held an unpleasant surprise for him...
...though in all liklihood, any poisoning could've and would've been done already.
A nod is issued from the USPL member, shuffling closer to the low table. Fingers move to wrap around the cup, cradling the warmth but not actually drinking yet.
"Why am I here?"

Riko continues smiling, in a cheerful and guileless fashion. She tilts her head, her bangs swaying, hair falling from her eyes. She watches Nassir, tracking his every move. Her eyes flit briefly over the teacup, as he touches his fingers to it. But her gaze does not linger.

She reaches her own arms forward, her movements slow, deliberate, carefully telegraphed. She picks up the other teacup, cradling the warm porceline carefully in both hands. She takes a sip, mindful of the heat.

Through a cloud of fragrant steam, she smiles again.

"Well," she says, conversationally, "you're kinda a...hard person to get hold of and stuff, you know? But Seishirou-sama insisted...and, well, we wanted to see you up close in a controlled environment regardless. No hard feelings!"

She waves a hand vaguely.

"Oh, and sorry about the room, I know it's very very dreary and dank and gloomy, but, well, y'know how it is."

Well...that was surprisingly easy.
Nassir wasn't expecting much of an answer, though admittedly these situations generally translated into a horrific torture sequence...followed by death. There was always a chance that she was merely lying to him, though that seemed only mildly likely.
"Seishirou," Nassir murmured, waving the cup in front of him, gently inhaling the vapors. It seemed almost silly for the soldier to do, especially since he was very unlikely to tell the difference between subtle uses of herbs...
...but at the very least, he'd be able to tell if it smelled like a shot of Drain-o with a lye chaser.
"To what end?" Nassir queried, his voice quickly returning to him. It was the kind of question that he, again, didn't expect much of a response to...but then, the entire situation seemed to be falling into increasingly unlikely territory.
And what about that object overhead? Could he evade that if they decided to drop that on him?

If Riko notices Nassir's unease about the literal Sword of Damocles suspended over his head, she gives...once again...no sign.

Her manner is casual. Completely relaxed.

It's possible that, to her, there's nothing unusual about the heavy object wreathed in shadow, apparently chained to the ceiling over /both/ their heads. Nothing unusual at all, really. Simply part of the background, along with all the rolling carts and items of tarp-covered machinery stored against the walls, their shapes visible in the dim light of the room. No, this room's full of that kind of junk. Maybe she's oblivious to it.

%Maybe.

Maybe not.

"Oh, well," Riko answers, glibly, "it's a ninja thing, you know."

True, she doesn't look like a ninja. She looks like a teenage skater, really. T-shirt, shorts, and chunky in-line skates. The last look somewhat comical, since she's sitting cross-legged on the stone floor.

But she is one, of course. That's an indisputable fact. After all, it's written on her t-shirt, spelt out in big white letters over black fabric:

DAMN NINJA.

Clearly, Riko complies with ISO standards for the proper labeling of shadow stealth warriors.

Huh.
Apparently comfortable enough with the tea to try a sip, Nassir spends a moment in silence sampling the liquid. Swallowing it down, Nassir took the opportunity to think things over...again. As much as he tried to run everything through his mind, he seemed to not be making any further progress into figuring this out.
"A ninja thing," Nassir repeated, forcing a very small smile onto his face. A ninja thing. What did that actually mean?
And then, it hit him like a brick wall.
All that time spent trying to steal/coerce/reverse engineer ninja techniques likely drew attention to himself...nevermind the similarities between their means of redirection and the ones he was taught years ago.
Either they were taking -their- turn at gleaning his secrets, or he was being recruited.
Or Both. Or Neither.
"I...see," Nassir tenatively offered. "What.../kind/ of ninja thing?"

The little kunoichi watches Nassir very, very carefully. She can almost see the wheels turning inside his head as he works things out. Riko's smile takes on an edge of genuine delight. Oh yes, this is good. Very good.

It doesn't matter if his conclusions are right. Or wrong. That's entirely besides the point. The fact that he /is/ thinking - that alone is a positive sign.

Grinning, Riko takes another sip of her own tea, savouring the sweetness.

"Oh, well, y'know, mysterious encounters, inscrutable plots, fights based on some veiled pretext..."

She shrugs her shoulders.

Then she leans forward a little.

"Though," she murmurs, in a conspiratorial fashion, "don't worry, we'll release you into the wild afterwards. This is just research! Wouldn't wanna harm the wildlife in any way!"

"Research."
That set Nassir back, ever so slightly. This was the second time that someone attempted to grab him for the purposes of 'research'. He'd escaped the last one, fueled by whoever decided to send Cody after him. It made a mess of the Metro Bridge, and created some less-than-positive public opinion on the USPL...though past actions likely sunk them so far that it was irrelevent.
He couldn't escape this one, though...at least, not to the point. The ninjas were successful where the fallen Metro City Here wasn't, potentially capable of not only stealing his personal secrets, but those of the USPL.
He was going to have to escape, but not until he knew precisely what they were after. Since Riko had been more than willing to supply Nassir with what seemed to be logical enough answers...it only stood to reason that he'd ask more.
"What do you want to know?"

COMBATSYS: Nassir has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Nassir           0/-------/-------|


COMBATSYS: Riko has joined the fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Riko             0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0           Nassir


"Oh, no," Riko shakes her head, lightly, forestalling his concerns. She smiles over the rim of her teacup. For some reason, though, it is a smile unlikely to put Nassir at ease. This smile, quite deliberately, does not reach her eyes. And it shows far too many teeth.

"Nothing much," she continues, unblinking, "just a little this..."

She tilts her teacup, ever-so-slightly. Liquid sloshes round, inside.

It's true, there's nothing wrong with the tea. It is simply a normal Japanese blend, prepared in the conventional fashion. Leaves and water. No drugs, no poison, nothing of the sort.

Just tea.

The cups, on the other hand...

There's a small spark of chi, a tiny, incredibly minute flare.

And that's when the teacup in Nassir's grasp...

...explodes, shattering in a spray of porceline shards and scalding-hot vapour.

COMBATSYS: Nassir dodges Riko's Improvised Tactics.

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Riko             0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0           Nassir


There it was.
Nassir expected.../something/, though he couldn't really tell what form it would take. He knew enough of Seishirou to know that they more or less made a name for themselves through strange, unexpected attacks...and this girl was affiliated with him. What he /did/ know, though, was that he wouldn't be able to just ask questions willy-nilly and then just be cut free. No, he'd probably have to put up a fight, despite Riko's mention of being 'cut back into the wilderness.'
It's difficult to tell what, precisely, tipped Nassir off to the incoming explosion--it was well hidden, certainly. A shift in chi, perhaps, or that telltale crack before the explosion-proper. If they were being monitored--a strong liklihood, if this was ninja business--then they might have a better insight. No matter what the warning was, the result is easy to follow: Nassir threw the cup skywards before rolling hard to the right, the explosion going off harmlessly overhead.
Instinct took Nassir for a moment, his hands going up to his bandoliers, grasping for one of the small spheres that hung there. His fingers didn't quite grasp around them like they normally would though, fingers almost fumbling for a moment as they aren't /exactly/ where they would be.
That's not good.
The young soldier pulls the sphere off of his bandolier regardless, the pin remaining in the small grenade for now. He didn't totally know where he was, but if he were going to go ahead with this plan he'd need to learn in a hurry. Rolling again, Nassir launched himself for one of the walls, rolling and rolling anew.
And then, the awful realization. What if these ninjas somehow disabled his explosives? He wouldn't be able to utilize that as a means of escape.
"So you want to test fighting acumen," Nassir called out, running through the most likely (to him, at least) scenarios in his mind. Talk would buy him a couple of extra moments, if she decided to indulge. "Yes?"

COMBATSYS: Nassir focuses on his next action.

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Riko             0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0           Nassir


"Essentially," Riko says, calmly.

She's still seated, cross-legged on the floor. Still clutching her own cup of tea.

She looks up at Nassir, watching him move. If she realises he's talking to buy time, she doesn't seem at all peturbed by this. Either she is supremely confident...

...or this too is a test.

As was the cup.

"You're the first person," Riko continues, "to not fall for that."

She points at the shattered porceline littering the floor, gleaming slickly under the blue electric light.

And that too is another clue. Nassir is not the first person to be brought here. Nor will he be the last.

Riko smiles.

COMBATSYS: Riko gathers her will.

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Riko             0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0           Nassir


Once Nassir reaches the edge where floor becomes wall, Nassir stops, extending his empty hand towards it and knuckling it gently. It would do the concept of punches a severe disservice, for that's hardly what this motion was...
...just enough force to try and determine if the wall was thick enough to sustain a blast or not, just enough force to try and determine if they were actually in a complex cut out of a mountain or something equally hard and unforgiving.
"You may have emptied my sidearm, defused my explosives," Nassir intones, moving to a standing base and slowly working his way back over towards Riko...and, in doing so, the other wall. "But my knives are still with me, and even a dull spoon can provide enough to kill in competent hands..."
A pause, then, in speech if not in physical motion. "...but then, you already know this." Nassir could feel the upswell in energy within the girl, his lips curling downwards at what it likely meant for him. There weren't too many things that he could do to disrupt the charging, though he could certainly make a stab at it.
His offhand went to his bandolier, pulling free one of the blades on his bandolier, twirling it between his fingers before loosing it towards his quarry. The blade is thrown a bit higher than Nassir normally did on televised events, though on televised events he makes the effort to not /permanently/ maim.

COMBATSYS: Riko blocks Nassir's Long Shot.

[   \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Riko             0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0           Nassir


Blood trickles down Riko's hand.

Her fingers are closed around the blade. Her palm upon the flat, fingertips lightly brushing the edge. That alone is enough to wound, however, given the edge to which Nassir's weapons are honed. But she caught the knife, regardless. About a half-second before it would have slammed into her face or upper body.

She tosses it aside. It rings upon the stone floor, bouncing to a halt.

"Oh," Riko says, with a small pout, "your gun and grenades are intact. What kinda uncivilized folks do you take us for? A man and his explody-stuff should never be parted."

And indeed, Riko's confident that the chamber would survive any kind of explosion. It's not in any danger from the level of weaponry Nassir carries. No. This room was built by Seishirou, and designed to shrug off /his/ techniques.

"So," Riko murmurs, arching a brow. She's still seated upon the ground. Still holding a teacup in her unwounded hand.

She takes another sip.

COMBATSYS: Riko focuses on her next action.

[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Riko             0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0           Nassir


"So,"
Nassir continued on his little journey, testing the surroundings he found himself in. Riko could be certain that the walls would stand up to most things Nassir could do, but Nassir himself needed to make certain on his own.
*tap*
"Is there a difference in what happens if I fell you or not?" Scurry, Scurry. Even as no attacks were immeadiately forthcoming, it wasn't enough to convince Nassir to relax his defense. /Something/ was going to happen, and it behooved the young soldier to watch for it.

COMBATSYS: Nassir focuses on his next action.

[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Riko             0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0           Nassir


"Oooh," Riko muses, out loud. She purses her lips, tapping her chin with one slender finger. She sets her teacup back upon the table, a faint clink of porceline. She regards Nassir with a sort of bemused interest.

"Y'know, you're the first person to ask /that/ too?"

She snickers faintly.

"Well, noooo, actually, beating -me- isn't the point of this exercise. It's not the destination, you see..."

Riko brings her hands together, clapping lightly. She doesn't seem concerned about the blood on her one injured hand.

Overhead, the blue electric lamps...flare, the illumination notching brighter, brighter, brighter... until each /explodes/, blasting apart in a flare of brilliant azure, forks of lightning filling the chamber. In a moment, with all the lights destroyed, the chamber will be plunged into darkness. In a moment. But for now...

Riko vanishes in the brightness. Engulfed by the retina-searing blaze.

One heartbeat, two.

And then she's right in front of Nassir, flashing a hand forward, sending directed current towards him.

"...it's how you get there."

COMBATSYS: Riko successfully hits Nassir with Light Fantastic EX.
- Power hit! -

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Riko             0/-------/=======|===----\-------\0           Nassir


Once the first of the lightsources began to flare, Nassir brought one of his hands high--shutting his eyes in order to keep himself from being blinded, while at the same time blinding himself.
Great options there, but then that's how you end up winning fights.
Doing what little he could to at least make himself a difficult target, Nassir began what appeared to be a lateral movement...
..too late.
His body jolted stock-still by the blast of electricity based chi, Nassir's teeth clenched tight until the energy finished riding through his body. It was torturous, certainly, body falling slack at the end a couple of feet away.
Blinking wildly as he attempted to regain his wits, Nassir did what he could to buy himself more time--with weakness showing, he couldn't expect talking to work nearly as well as it did prior. The grenade that had been in his hand all this time is chucked upwards, thumb looped into the pin so that the force serves to prime the explosive as it flies upwards. It wasn't particularly likely to /hit/ the ninja head on, though the shrapnel could theoretically catch her.
Meanwhile, Nassir began the arduous task of rolling away. Direction didn't totally matter...reprieve did.

COMBATSYS: Riko dodges Nassir's Power Shot.

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Riko             0/-------/=======|===----\-------\0           Nassir


"Not bad," Riko remarks, conversationally. Just as the roar from the explosion begins to fade. The sound of shrapnel hitting the ground fills the chamber, as debris stirred by the detonation settles. Then there's other sounds. Traces of movement. Of wind stirring. Of polyurethane wheels rolling over the chamber floor.

By now, the dojo room is pitch black. There is no light, none at all, now that the lamps have been shattered. No. It's sound alone.

Riko's voice comes high and clear, from Nassir's right.

"But..."

From his left.

"...is that..."

And behind.

"...your only trick?"

A skate-clad boot shoots out, racing for the small of his back.

COMBATSYS: Nassir blocks Riko's Light Kick.

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////       ]
Riko             0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0           Nassir


Shades of their earlier fight.
The priviledge of sight was something that both fighters seemed to be talented without, though in the previous encounter it was Riko who got the upper hand. It was Nassir's choice at the time to do so, though, his implementation taking the form of a grenade. Now, it was Riko's choice, and she did so as well, using whatever it was that fueled the kidnapping site. Chi or theatrics, the result was the same...
...except here, Nassir was slightly more prepared for it.
Bringing himself up to a kneeling position, Nassir stayed still for a moment, trying still to shake off the effects of the previous attack. Being blasted as he was, he wasn't in the greatest position to do much of anything, though he'd at least make a decent showing for himself in the process.
And then the kick came in.
In all likelihood, he only had Riko's words to thank for properly positioning himself--following the sound as a cue for where to listen, catching the gentle whirr of the skates. It was just enough of a warning to allow him to prepare a defense, turning and bringing his arm up to absorb the brunt of the blow. It's still enough to knock the soldier back, though not nearly as painful as it would've been otherwise. The defending hand then shoots out, fist held tight save for his first two fingers. The goal is to do little more than strike against the girl's outstretched leg, catching her behind the knee. This was likely a daunting task, especially since he was operating blind. Should it work, though...

COMBATSYS: Riko fails to interrupt Strong Throw from Nassir with Dragon Seal Blue EX.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////       ]
Riko             1/------=/=======|=====--\-------\0           Nassir


...but work it does. Contact is made. A -yelp- cuts through the air. In the darkness, Nassir might be able to make out Riko's outline....as she loses her balance, spilling onto the floor. Painfully. She hits, skidding across the stone floor.

"Nngh," Riko groans. Her pained expression is lit, for a moment, as a spark of blue light dances round one of her hands. But it fades, gone. Whatever she was planning didn't work.

"Insightful," Riko muses, "adaptable..."

She carries on speaking, as the room plunges back into darkness.

"...really, not bad. Not bad at all."

The flare helped.
Landing his first blow was likely just chance--blind as he was, there wasn't much he could do otherwise...just hang in there and wait for the opportunity. He followed the voice well enough, but that would only work for so long...or so Nassir thought.
The flare, though...that told him a story that sound couldn't quite convey by itself.
Moving to follow up on the first strike, Nassir thrust his hand downwards, fist still being led by those probing fingers of his. The intention is to lead the fingers into her sternum, displacing the shadowy blue chi signature he held into that point. The darkness did a lot to take away from the spectacle of his moves, though that did the young soldier a service in this instance.

COMBATSYS: Riko blocks Nassir's Depravity.

[      \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////////         ]
Riko             1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0           Nassir


It did indeed.

The cloak of darkness doesn't seem to slow Riko down. At least, not in any discernable fashion. No. She's still sprawled on the ground, in the awkward position she ended up in after Nassir's throw. But she moves, now, twisting around. Deflecting the chi-charged strike with her forearm, sweeping it into the path of the blow.

But then again, the darkness doesn't seem to be stopping Nassir, either. Riko stops the blow. But she barely manages it. The effort draws a hiss of breath from the girl.

Then she disengages, melting backwards.

And she strikes back.

One of her skates hits the ground. Wheels racheting over the stone panels. Her rear foot, holding her weight. The air shifts as her -other- skate cleaves the air, speeding towards Nassir's face.

COMBATSYS: Nassir blocks Riko's Light Kick.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////          ]
Riko             1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0           Nassir


This kick meets with the same general fate as the one before it--uncharacteristically fended away by a waiting defense as opposed to his normal...dodginess. Nassir winced slightly beneath the weight of the blow, though that would likely be lost by any witnesses.
A snort of air, then, and Nassir attempts to wrap his fingers around the offending skate. Rather than respond to the blow as he did earlier, Nassir seemed to be opting for a simpler counterattack. Should he happen to be able to get ahold of the skate, Nassir would wrench the object--and presumably the foot it was attached to--around while pivoting his hips in an attempt at bringing the girl down again.

COMBATSYS: Nassir successfully hits Riko with Quick Throw.

[         \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////          ]
Riko             1/----===/=======|=======\-------\0           Nassir


And once again, there's the sound of a human body slamming into hard, unyielding stone. Air escapes Riko's lungs, forceful, involuntary, as the breath she just took gets punched out of her body. That hurt, it did. Well and truly. She wrenches her foot free from the grip, pulling herself away.

"Well," Riko says, as she skates backwards, wheels scraping audibly against the floor, "you can fight blind. That's good to know...buuuuut /how/ do you do it, hm? Sound?"

Riko snaps her fingers. It rings like a gunshot, echoing off the walls of the chamber.

"Chi?"

As the noise fades, a dull blue glow suffuses the room. Riko's revealed, standing across the chamber from Nassir, facing him, her back to a wall.

And then, from every angle, from the walls, from the ceiling, even from the floor itself, a rolling -cascade- of azure thunderbolts leaps through the air. Crackling electricity, with Nassir as the lightning rod.

COMBATSYS: Nassir slows Level 360 from Riko with Long Shot.

[         \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////              ]
Riko             0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1           Nassir


The gunshot-like noise...didn't do much for Nassir's hearing, that's for certain. She called his sight-replacement well enough, and was obviously well versed in how these things worked. The overwhelming build of chi effectively scrambled his tertiary means of sight, leaving him truly blind just as Riko's nuke came in.
Even sightless, Nassir knew there was no way he'd be able to evade any of this...at all. There was one option available to him, the best one he had even as it was amongst his worst.
Pulling a grenade free from his bandolier, Nassir tossed it into the air...barely more than a foot or two away from his person before the explosion filled the air.
The gambit was such: Use one explosion to create a 'zero-space' of sorts where both were annulled. It was risky, certainly, but it was about all he had going for him.
The gambit proved somewhat successful, taking a bit of sting out of the bolts...but they still reached him, ping-ponging his body into the air before depositing him like a sack of potatoes back on the ground.

"Huh," Riko observes, folding her arms. She's silhouetted against the wall, as the last light of the clashing explosions disappears. Once more, the room is in blackness, save for the red-hot chunks of shrapnel.

In the background, there is a distinct mechanical sound as the chamber's ventilation system kicks into high gear, intake fans sucking up the smoke and fumes. Stirring the air.

Riko wrinkles her nose.

"Don't think," she says, "I've seen -that- before. Pretty cool, gotta remember that one."

She shifts her stance, audibly changing her footing...

...before lunging forward, throwing herself into a headalong rush. Towards Nassir, fast, fast, fast, plunging through the shadowed room. Aiming for contact, to transfer momentum. To send him flying with an outstretched palm.

COMBATSYS: Riko successfully hits Nassir with Isometric View.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Riko             0/-------/----===|=======\===----\1           Nassir


Still well and truly blind from the sensory overload/deprivation effects used moments ago, there wasn't too much Nassir could do about the oncoming attack: He attempted to keep moving, though all that did was deliver him squarely into the palm. Air rushed out of his lungs as he went flying backwards, rolling head over heels until his body finally came to a complete stop a few yards off.
Sucking in a deep lungful of floor, Nassir tried to push himself off of the ground, but was moving a bit slower than he was particularly comfortable with. His mind began to turn back towards /escape/, though that seemed unlikely at best. Even if he got out of this room...
...he'd likely need to hide until he recouperated. That's not an acceptable outcome, though neither was being knocked back out.
Options, options...or a lack thereof.
Nassir swallowed hard, trying to steady himself and review those options...again.

COMBATSYS: Nassir focuses on his next action.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Riko             0/-------/----===|=======\===----\1           Nassir


Tactical analysis.

That's something she can respect.

The room is pitch black. Completely, utterly dark. But Riko...Riko, at least, doesn't seem to have much trouble sensing Nassir's whereabouts. -She- doesn't have any problem tracking his movements.

Then again, she chose this battlefield. She set up the conditions. In this, at least, the deck's stacked in her favour.

But Nassir's looking at the angles. In the blackness of the chamber, unseen to his eyes... the corner of Riko's mouth curves upwards in a wry grin.

Oh yes, he's good.

She moves. Again, wheels roll over the stone floor. A distinct, unmistakable sound. It's almost deliberate, really. As if she wants him to hear it.

Maybe she does.

There's the sound of clinking porceline, over from the low tea table. Where this fight originally began.

Then Riko moves.

The sound of her skate wheels speeding up. Spinning constant, spinning quick. And then she's upon Nassir, slashing a hand as she speeds past, drawing a crescent arc in the air with the object held by her fingers. A shard of the broken teacup, the one she blew up at the very start of this encounter.

COMBATSYS: Nassir dodges Riko's Weapon Jab.

[         \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Riko             0/-------/----===|=======\===----\1           Nassir


Nassir heard it, certainly, though he hadn't lost the over-telegraphed nature of it. Nassir himself did similar things on the battlefield, attempting to use a little combat psychology to make particularly difficult quarry respond to false stimuli.
And if this was some kind of training exercise for the ninja, then she'd probably know it too.
Still, Nassir had nothing else to really go on. His senses were only beginning to return to him to the levels he was used to. It was follow the stimuli, or do something wholly at random.
Nassir went into a high leap at the sound of the rushing wheels, chi combining with leg strength to push him to impressive heights. It's more than enough to avoid the porcelain slash, and in turn lead into Nassir's counterattack.
Careening back for ground, Nassir balled his hands into those not-quite-fists again, looking to sink fingertips into giving flesh. It was entirely possible that Riko would've simply sped along, though there was a chance he'd be able to catch her before she totally passed out of reach.

COMBATSYS: Riko dodges Nassir's Strong Throw.

[         \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Riko             0/-------/----===|=======\===----\1           Nassir


A chance.

But not one that comes to pass.

Nassir's lunge meets only empty air, as Riko ghosts away. It's a more subtle movement than the boy's own acrobatic evasion. An elegant motion of skate wheels against flagstones, a whisper through the air. His fingers brush against the fabric of her t-shirt - but that's the closest he gets. And then she's gone.

If his senses are functioning - or functioning still - he might be able to make out Riko's presence as she comes to a halt. Braking with a practiced tilt of her skates. Watching, waiting, in the darkness of the room.

This test isn't over yet.

COMBATSYS: Riko gathers her will.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Riko             0/-------/=======|=======\===----\1           Nassir


Well, that was unfortunate.
Landing gently on the ground, Nassir kept his body low, crouched on all fours while his senses attempted to pick Riko out from the remainder of the room. It doesn't take long for him to find her--the building of chi was beacon enough, even with everything else that had occured. He could attack her easily enough, that was certain...
...but did he want to?
Everything about this area served Riko's purposes: It was a test of her own creation, or at least the creation of those she was affiliated with. It was a controlled environment that, while not wholly offputting to the young soldier, favored her more. If he had any hope of turning this around at all, he would need to do something to nullify that advantage.
Nassir remained still for another moment, listening intently and feeling...
...for the movement of air.
The smoke from their combined attacks cleared quickly, the whirr of a machine giving away an air filtration system. That meant that there were ducts, ducts which likely went to an open-air source. Find the filtration system, find a way out, find a means to nullify the advantage...
But was it too late?
Nassir's hand went up to his bandolier, prying free one of those small smokesources, thumbing the pin and tossing it with an underhanded motion towards Riko.

COMBATSYS: Riko fails to interrupt Long Shot from Nassir with Dragon Seal Blue.
- Power fail! -

[                 \\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Riko             0/-------/--=====|=======\=====--\1           Nassir


Riko's lips curve into a razor-thin smile. Her hands shift, her body tenses, she moves---

---wait.

No!

Her eyes widen. Just before the explosive goes off, a ear-shattering blast. The walls of the room are solid. They don't flex, they don't break. But Riko's body is rocked around by the explosion.

She hits the ground, wincing. The concussive force from such close proximity, that hurts far, -far- more than the shrapnel and fire. A trickle of blood works its way down the side of her face.

Miscalculation.

Damn. He really -is- good.

Go time.
As could likely be figured by both Riko and her affiliated ninja-troupe, Nassir's mind was constantly racing through options and scenarios, working out the best ways to go about a given combat. Variables were constantly changing, and even constants were rarely actually constant--it's what made combat seem so chaotic to others, nigh-impossible to follow.
Living this long, though...it taught Nassir well enough to know otherwise.
Nassir hadn't fully expected the grenade to catch the girl as solidly as it did: It was more gambit than anything else, a means to simultaneously disrupt the building chi within the young ninja as well as be able to follow the flow of the filtration vents.
When it does, however? Plans change.
She was hurt, that much was certain. In fact, she was hurt much more than Nassir could've accounted for, a minute chance that he hadn't totally factored in until it happened. With her caught, opportunities opened themselves up in ways he couldn't have forseen otherwise...
...and in ways he couldn't allow to merely pass.
In an instant, the crouching soldier is scurrying forward, scrambling along until leg muscles push the boy into a low pounce, shadowy blue chi emnating from his body and creating afterimages in his wake. Fists on both hands were knuckled tightly, save for the first two fingers on both hands. Those were needle-straight, and as the soldier began to fall back to ground sought out unprotected areas of her body--joints and nerves, primarily, in an all-out assault.

COMBATSYS: Riko blocks Nassir's Stockholm Syndrome.

[                   \\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Riko             0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0           Nassir


Combat always involves variables. The shifting play of actions and reactions. Of outside factors. Random chance. It is chaos, yes, but the heart of chaos is math.

This is Riko's creed. Much like it is Nassir's. Yes. She understands him well.

But this, at least, is one area where Riko differs from her teacher. For Seishirou, the entire battle, beginning to end... is something to be plotted. To be listed, every step of the way. Whereas Riko...

...she reacts.

As she does in the here and now. She senses Nassir coming. How she does it isn't clear. But before the first blow lands, she's already moving. Kicking herself off the floor. Shifting her weight, moving into a defensive posture. She stops the first blow. Then the second. And then she accelerates, moving swiftly, blocking the strikes as best she can. It's a hard effort, a harsh one.

As the final blow lands, Riko rolls backwards, moving upon her skates. Breathing heavily, her arms held protectively in front of her. Her ribs ache, her lungs burn. But she's still standing.

She smiles, once more.

Oh yes.

COMBATSYS: Riko gains composure.

[                \\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Riko             0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0           Nassir


That...wasn't totally the finish he was looking for, though it was apparent enough that he managed to do /some/ damage to the ninja--she was taking up a defensive posture, as opposed to simply focusing her chi. That was...something, at least.
But not nearly enough, no.
With no telltale signs coming from the machinery this time around, Nassir put that plan onto the backburner. He'd need to come up with some new strategies, though that too was forced to the back of his mind. Right now, he wanted to exploit a presumed weakness in the girl's position, take her down another notch or two and then finish decisively.
How best to do so, though?
Nassir moved back to his feet, shifting and snaking to pursue after Riko, pushing his offense as best he could. The chi flare dies out, flickering and gutting out to nothing, though the physical aspect is still there in force: The fingers prod at Riko's upper body, jabbing at the collar region with stiff, needling blows.

COMBATSYS: Nassir successfully hits Riko with Numbing Hands.

[                   \\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Riko             1/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0           Nassir


[OOC] Seishirou says, "C_C"
[OOC] Seishirou says, "molester! C_C_"
[OOC] Nassir badtouch.
[OOC] Seishirou says, "--"
[OOC] Seishirou says, "whoa now"
[OOC] Seishirou says, "watch those hands mister"
[OOC] Nassir says, "or what you'll join the fight?"
[OOC] Seishirou says, "I will you keep touching me like that C_C"

Amazingly, she doesn't cry out. No sound escapes her lips. Her face contorts with pain - but in the shadows, Nassir probably can't see it. No. Aside from that one lapse, the girl's self-control is admirable.

The blows strike home. Slamming into nerves, sending bolts of white-hot agony through her body. But Riko forces herself -past- that. Forces herself to move. To turn her collapse onto the floor into a roll. To aim a swift heel kick at Nassir as she slides away.

"Fast," she murmurs.

"Applause."

COMBATSYS: Nassir dodges Riko's Light Kick.

[                   \\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Riko             1/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0           Nassir


The low kick is evaded in acrobatic fashion, with the young soldier going into a low somersaut leap. He had little interest in allowing for Riko to get too far away from him--not this time, not with how things were going. Whether or not he particularly liked admitting it, the two fighters seemed to be evenly matched...and the circumstances presented Nassir with a puzzle that demanded a solution.
As close as the fight was, would Nassir be able to find it in time?
Midway through his somersaulting motion, Nassir reached to his bandolier, pulling free one of his knives. It had been a while since he'd gone for them, a surprisingly long while, but with the way that his evasion went there weren't many options available to him right then and there. He needed to press his advantage, and with any luck put himself in a position to quickly end things.
With a flick of the wrist, the sliver of metal was off, twirling end over end as it flew in for central mass.

COMBATSYS: Riko dodges Nassir's Medium Shot.

[                   \\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Riko             1/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0           Nassir


But it doesn't land.

The blade glances off the far wall, skittering against stone panels. It falls, clattering against the chamber floor.

Riko isn't there.

She's moving.

That last evasion was close. She barely managed it, her skates skidding so hard against the ground that they drew -sparks- in the darkened room. She inhales, exhales, breathing heavily. The sound of Riko drawing breath, that alone is enough to give away her position. That's enough of an audio cue.

"Y'know," she remarks, between breaths, "I think at -this- point..."

She leaps. Jumping overhead, high enough to touch the ceiling. She grabs one of the defunct light fixtures, one of the hanging lanterns. She swings from it.

"...we can consider..."

At the apex of her arc, she drops from the ceiling - pulling the light fixture along with her, the lantern ripping free. The power cord trails behind her.

"...you passed..."

Hold the cord, Riko descends. Snapping a loop of wire at Nassir's neck.

"...only question... the final grade."

COMBATSYS: Nassir dodges Riko's Quick Throw.

[                  \\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
Riko             1/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0           Nassir


Taking a less acrobatic stance, Nassir dodges out of the way of Riko and her lighting cord, shuffling a few paces over to allow her to go as gravity would have her. Nassir lips pull downwards, fingers busying themselves with a pair of blades, wrapping themselves around the practically non-existent throwing hilt.
So, then, he passed. Great, but...
"...to what end?"
It was reminiscent enough of Rolento's asessment trials to almost unnerve him, sending a shiver down his spine even as he took a half-second to steady his throwing hand. He'd had a habit of succeeding in the least likely of objectives, above and beyond the call of duty by Rolento's own words...but failing the assessments that came shortly thereafter. Flukes, he'd eventually be dismissed as...possessed of a talent that was every bit as capricious and fickle as Nassir was calculating in his actions, as if some talent-spirit sought to taunt him with bursts of excellence.
Steady, and...Release.
The knife is thrown low, off-center, with a bit more spin than his other throws possessed--the idea is to do little more than scratch the ninja, bring a new cut to the fore and nibble away at her resolve to close.
At this stage in the fight, it could be considerably more than that, and the young fighter likely knew it.

COMBATSYS: Riko dodges Nassir's Quick Shot.

[                  \\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
Riko             1/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0           Nassir


The cord in her hands whips round.

She draws it taut. Snaps it in the air. The wire sweeps through space - dragging the shattered remains of the lantern along with it.

"I dunno," Riko says, glibly, "normally I'd say we'll be in touch..."

She swings her makeshift weapon - and it intercepts the thrown knife. Knocking the blade from the air.

Riko loops the cord and light fixture through another couple of revolutions, circling it round her body.

She seems to have regained some of her earlier energy.

Maybe it's just a trick. Maybe it's pure stage magician's patter.

But Riko's voice, when she speaks, is bright and cheerful. She stands where she landed, in the wake of her last abortive attack on Nassir.

"...but you're a hard guy to find. Do you have an email address?"

With that last quip, she springs into action. Snapping the cord forward. Like a whip.

COMBATSYS: Nassir blocks Riko's Weapon Jab.

[                  \\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
Riko             0/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0           Nassir


"There are means to get ahold of me," Nassir began to retort, cut off by the crack of the makeshift whip. Nassir arms go up to deflect the blow, wincing lightly as it crack of wire cuts into his uniform and slaps at his forearms.
"You have shown that you are resourceful enough to find me regardless."
It was true, too--something he'd have to mention to his superiors. It was entirely possible that SNF activity could be exposing the USPL too much, though with the mess in Thailand it was totally possible that they could do more or less anything they wanted now, to little notice.
"Before leaving, I can make arrangements for easier communication," Nassir offers, rolling his shoulders and taking a steadying breath. The ninja's recovery was hardly a magician's illusion, that much Nassir could see--if he was going to take her down, he'd have to do it with something a bit heavier than what he was offering thus far.
But...what? That was always the question that defied answer.

COMBATSYS: Nassir focuses on his next action.

[                  \\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
Riko             0/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0           Nassir


"Mmmn, true," Riko muses. She still cradles the electrical cord and the shattered remains of the lantern in one hand. It trails from her palm, pooling at her feet. With her other hand, though, she raises one slender finger, tapping her chin. Thoughtfully.

"And you're the first to -offer- that, you know?"

A snap decision, then.

Riko drops her makeshift weapon, freeing both her hands. She brings them together, clapping lightly.

Along the walls, florescent tubes, secondary light fixtures, hum to life. The glow is dim at first, but it quickly brightens.

"Tell you what," Riko says, cheerfully, "let's talk. I was -gonna- try knocking you out so we could like drag you into the forest and leave you there to wake up. Buuuut, actually I think we can deal. You seem like a man after Seishirou-sama's heart, and that probably reflects well on this Mister Schugerg of yours."

She shrugs her shoulders.

"Unless you'd rather continue fighting."

COMBATSYS: Riko gains composure.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
Riko             0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0           Nassir


An offer of peacable parlay?
Nassir didn't immeadiately respond to that, taking a moment to consider what the offer likely meant. On one hand, it could simply be a trap. Riko was likely smart enough to know roughly what Nassir was planning, which meant that she'd be able to make use of other strategies to defuse that...which included parlay.
On the other hand, this was an unwinnable situation even if he did press the attack. At best, he could hope to be knocked out by /other/ ninjas, then deposited /somewhere/ in the world to make his way back. The discussion could be used as an opportunity on his end as well, to recouperate...
...and to learn more about these ninja, the would-be partners of the USPL. Diplomacy wasn't his strongest suit, and yet...simply passing over the opportunity would be the height of folly.
"Agreed," Nassir finally offers. "I am prepared to discuss a deal."

COMBATSYS: Nassir drops his guard to recover.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////                ]
Riko             0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0           Nassir


"Cool," Riko nods, firmly.

She points upward, at the top of the chamber. The dojo's main space is now very well lit, in stark contrast to the earlier darkness. Or the sporadic, scattered light when Nassir first woke up in the chamber.

When he first came to, Nassir immediately noticed the massive object chained to the ceiling, hanging above his head. But the shadows made it impossible to tell what it was.

Now it's clear.

And while those /are/ chains holding it up...

...the object is quite clearly a colourful paper-mache pinata.

It's shaped like a panda. Except for the rainbow colours.

There's a faint -clunk- of machinery, and the panda-pinata begins to descend. Riko walks over, keeping her movements slow and deliberate. She plucks a candy bar from a hole in the panda's side, tears open the wrapper, munches on it.

"Candy? I promise, -these- don't blow up."

She nods, soberly.

"Seishirou-sama's stash," she says, conspiratorily. "Peace offering. Let's talk."

Her eyes gleam, in a cold, calculating way at odds with the rest of her appearance. A harmless teenage girl, munching on candy.

Harmless.

COMBATSYS: Riko has left the fight here.

[                \\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Nassir           0/-------/-======|

Log created on 17:42:05 06/08/2007 by Riko, and last modified on 17:26:20 08/01/2007.