Description: An average day turns a little peculiar as Marisol happens across the strange Alan R.B. outside of Pacific High's campus. Misunderstandings lead to to the inevitable swinging of fists between the two strange boxers. Stars a guest beating by none other than R's leader himself! ...on Alan. But no matter what... Alan is still a pervert.
It's not a good day in this part of Southtown. It's too goddamn humid, the wind isn't blowing an inch, and clouds overhead threaten to piss all over everything. But still, the people go to work, salarymen jogging down streets with suits and briefcases, construction workers draped all over a half-built building, a crazy cat lady in her home being crazy, and having cats. The weather simply makes it all that much more unpleasant.
So it should come as no surprise that Alan, lounging at the gate of Pacific High, is even more acerbic than usual as he makes various illegal deals with some of the less savory sorts. Students are not in fact one of his main customers - Pacific isn't exactly a hive of corruption - but Alan likes to be here anyway. After all, he's already a criminal, and 16 and up is good enough for him.
And on this particularly unpleasant, hellishly humid day, school is just letting out, numerous Pacific High students milling out of the front gates. Like a veritable flood, uniform-clad young men and women alike spill out from Pacific High and into the streets of downtown Southtown before they go. ..to wherever they're meant to be. Some linger around downtown, while some head to the beach.
Then there are a scant few others who linger around campus. Like Marisol.
Wandering through the school's courtyard, the redheaded half-Spaniard girl seems to be taking her sweet time, while others seem to rush past. Arms stretched high overhead, she stifles a yawn before she crooks her arms, folding them casually behind her head. For a brief while, she appears to wait for someone, or a few someones. Eventually, though, she gives it up and heads for the gate.
Exiting past, the young woman spares a glance toward her surroundings. For the most part, things seem in place. That is, of course, until those gray eyes catch sight of Alan, who is clearly not of school age. It's not uncommon for older folks to hang around outside campus - especially the business men trying to pick up barely-legal teens, the perverts. So then...
"Are you a pervert tryin' to pick up girls?" she asks, offering the boxer a dull stare as she looks right at him.
As Marisol approaches, she might notice Alan trading a few words with a rough-looking man. They then shake each other's hands - the especially astute will notice the hands held money and a pouch of green powder, which then switched hands. A few sparks flick off Alan's hand as he dips the money in his pocket.
Business done... well now. Still slouched against the gate, Alan turns to regard Marisol, looking her up and down quite obviously through his nearly-transparent shades. A slow smirk creeps over his face, adding a nice touch of 'total asshole' to his appearance. "Well now, chica, that depends. Are you a girl lookin' for a bored pervert?" A blonde eyebrow twitches upward briefly, punctuating the statement.
For a moment, the redhead just watches as the exchange is made, full lips pulling into a tight line across her tanned features. It seems strange, yes; though she is not 'especially astute,' she takes not of the little things, particularly the money. And the fact it looks like a business deal, as opposed to two pals parting ways. Thin red brows furrow slightly.
Though, when Alan finally regards her, those gray eyes hood slightly, peering at the older man. If he's attempting to creep the young woman out, it does not seem to bother her; instead, she rolls her eyes and offers a sigh. Lifting her hands, she rests them akimbo on her hips.
"Not really," she ultimately replies, lips twitching into some likeness of a smirk. "I have better ways of passing my time. Like watching paint dry. Or counting the cracks in sidewalks. Or washing my hair." With a scoff, the young woman's chin lifts, her eyes narrowing a touch.
"So you admit to bein' a pervert, huh? Well, pervertido, if you're bored, maybe you ought to find yourself a healthy hobby? Picking up school girls is a good way to get yourself in trouble, y'know." A smirk cuts its way across her lips. "And I'm pretty sure most of the girls here at Pacific High are out of your league."
Alan inhales sharply, appreciative of the good sass. "Hey, babe, I never siad I was a pervert. Just that it depended." He leans back, taking a cigarette out of his pocket, lighting it with a little crackle of electricity like a goddamn showoff, and puffing away. "Besides, I do a lot of things that are a good way to get in trouble. You should try it sometime." He gives a little mocking half-grin, then turns away as another rough-looking chap comes up.
He, however, looks nervously between Alan and Marisol as he approaches, and eventually turns and leaves. The blonde snorts, and looks blandly at Marisol. "Now, look at that, you're crampin' me here. Not that I don't mind lookin', but either buy something, give me your number, or head on home to mom."
No stranger to such talk, Marisol remains unimpressed at best as she stands there with her hands on her hips. And, though she may not be a stranger, it does not mean that she has to enjoy it; scoffing lightly again, she lifts a hand from her side and idly waves it about, dismissively.
"No thanks," she replies, quite swiftly. "I'd really like to avoid jail time - or worse." She is a transfer student, after all. Not a citizen of the country! "Like my grandfather. And, really. I wouldn't want to get beat within an inch of my life for pissin' him off." She has dreams and aspirations to live up to, after all!
At the approach of someone else, however, the girl shoots the 'rough' man a cold glare. Ultimately, the man's uneasiness and uncertainty run him off, and it's just enough to earn Alan a broad smirk from the half-Spaniard girl. "Buy something? So, what? You're some kind of drug dealer? Or are you a male prostitute?" Either way...
"How 'bout this," she offers, hands lifting from her sides as shoulders roll in an easy shrug. Casually, she begins her approach. "I'll give you SOMETHING to remember me by. Trust me, you'll like it." She even winks.
...then she lunges at him and swings a right hook right at his jaw.
COMBATSYS: Marisol has started a fight here.
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Marisol 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Alan has joined the fight here.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Marisol
COMBATSYS: Marisol successfully hits Alan with Hook Punch.
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Alan 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Marisol
Alan R. B. opens his mouth to say something further, and has it filled with Marisol's hand in a way that is certainly not romantically sucking her fingers in the firelight!!! No, it is a punch to the jaw hard enough to lay out any ordinary man. Alan is driven one step to the side, head snapping over hard. "Hahahah! I like 'em fiery!" Then, electricity crackles around on Alan's skin, and he moves far faster than he should to put some distance between him and Marisol.
"Sorry, chica, but now you've gone and opened up a door you can't close!" He brings his hands to his belt, looping his fingers through the iron rings and pulling up. Electric chi blossoms around his fists as he pulls up into his own boxing stance, stepping around quickly. Both eyebrows bob up and down twice before he sprints back in close, swinging rapidly. The blows don't hit, but they create a wave of chi which crashes forward. "Burst!"
COMBATSYS: Marisol blocks Alan's Thunderhead.
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Alan 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Marisol
And that's a good thing, because chances are, Marisol wouldn't WANT him suckling on her fingers like a weirdo! Regardless, a tight fist meets the side of poor Alan's face, resulting a meat 'crack' between the pair. As the blonde is driven back, however, Marisol just takes one step back herself, putting a bit of distance between herself and the drug dealer.
"Is that so?" she responds, lifting a hand up and around her head. Pulling her hair up, the other hand snakes around, tying her long red locks up and out of her face. "Good, 'cause I've never been fond of pulling punches, you see." Steel gray eyes narrow slightly, full lips pulling into a Cheshire's grin. She's opened a door, huh?
"Good! I like those odds."
Then he swings at her. For a moment, the girl seems mildly pleased to find a fighter with a style similar to her own. And she might be able to admire it - if it weren't for the gout of chi that rushes at her. Swiftly, long arms cross over her face, the assault staved off, causing her to stagger a step back before she drops her arms, the chi dispersed.
"Chi, huh?" she asks, squinting at the blonde, watching him closely. Is she making small talk? Or is she simply buying time, to find a chink in his proverbial armor?
COMBATSYS: Marisol focuses on her next action.
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Alan 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Marisol
Alan responds with another smirk, holding his right hand up and letting electricity crackle above it. "Some folks just got it." But shouldn't it be taking effort to have chi around his hands all the time?
Apparently not. And the chi does more for Alan than just look good and make him hit harder - that much is apparent as he moves so damn abruptly, circling around Marisol, his 'official' work forgotten for now. He'll have to move after this, but he's picked up a good wad of cash. "R"'s still got their foothold in the growing Glow industry and all.
"And some folks don't!" Backstage exposition is tossed aside as Alan suddenly drives in, chi flaring around his right fist which drives right for the side of Marisol's face. Mustn't accidentally break that pretty nose.
COMBATSYS: Marisol fails to interrupt Jab Punch from Alan with Iron Butterfly.
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Alan 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Marisol
Watching closely those hands, the girl offers a frown. She knows that sort of 'symptom,' if one would call it such. Her teammate has the same 'ability' himself, all but bleeding that unnatural energy. Gray eyes narrow slightly. "Yeah, I suppose you're right," she adds.
And some don't? Scoffing, the girl shrugs her shoulders casually as he comes forward, a fist rising from her side. Attempting to intercept his attack with one of her own, her plan falls through; Alan proves faster and, as result, the girl is struck rather fleetingly, save for the numbing sensation his chi adds to the punch.
Stumbling a bit, the redhead scoffs, rubbing the side of her face. "I really hate that," she mutters.
Alan lets out a little 'heh' as Marisol completely fails to stop his punch. It's not a hard hit but it sure as hell is a fast hit. The boxer relents not, staying close in - though if this lands they won't be so for long. He's actually just smiling now, feeling like a million bucks as he double-feints a pair of blows, drawing both hands back and swinging them forward. Chi surges together as he just claps his hands right in front of Marisol's face. "Thunderclap!" Electricity blasts out, along with a roar of sound and concussive force.
"Hey, chica, don't be jealous because some of us just crackle with power!"
COMBATSYS: Marisol interrupts Thunderclap from Alan with Red Clover.
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Alan 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Marisol
Is he feeling saucy? It would seem so. Recovering from the jab to the side of her face, Marisol stands there, casually rubbing still at her cheek, eyeing the R subordinate with the tiniest of scowls. Then, slowly, the scowl turns into a wry smirk. If he's feeling like a million bucks, she seems ready and willing to make him feel just the opposite.
So as he feints the air Marisol narrows her eyes, gray depths hooded, glaring at the boxer as he makes his move. But the moment that electrical chi suddenly surges and begins to explode, Marisol does the unthinkable: she plows right through it, intent on honing in on Alan on the other side.
Regardless of the numbing sensation, the half-Spaniard appears quite suddenly, driving her knee straight into his stomach. It doesn't stop there; rather, the girl clenches her hands into fists, swinging the left one in for a body blow, before she swings both, a right hook delivered across his face before she seals the deal with a chi-enhanced hook with the right. Impact alone results in a massive burst of yellowy chi, meant to blast poor Alan back and away.
"I'm not jealous!!" she shouts. "I'm annoyed!"
Usually Alan sends his opponent away when he does this - getting thrown away himself is quite certainly not what he wanted. His feints are used against him after a fashion, giving Marisol time to realize something coming. So she deals with it, and Alan is pnched in the ribs and face before the concussive blast can go off. He twists in the air to land on his feet, rubbing his jaw. He doesn't appear to be particularly bothered by this turn of events.
"Let's just see how much more of an annoyance I can be!" His right hand cocks up by his ear, an orb of chi suddenly crackling into life. He swings down, snapping his fingers: "Strike!" A bolt of lightning sizzles into being, jumping across the air right at Marisol. Then his hand comes back up: "Twice!" Another bolt!
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Marisol with Lightning Strikes Twice.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Alan 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\1 Marisol
Once Alan has been pushed back via blast of yellow chi, the redhead squints at him, watching with what could be likened to a mildly perturbed expression. Long fingers flex at her sides, curling into fists before they unfurl. Haunting those full lips of the half-Spaniard girl's is a wry grin. If he's not bothered by the turn of events, then she really has no problems either.
Save for that annoying ability of his to all but bleed chi.
"C'mon and try!" she encourages, lifting her arms from her sides and easing into a stance once more. Watching as he 'summons' chi, the girl looks on, biding her time until - until she can dodge and avoid it.
It was a good idea at the time, at least. Struck, the girl goes rolling to one side, across the pavement with an audible 'oof.' Eventually, though, the redhead pushes up, standing once more with a huge smirk painting her face. The back of her hand moves across her brow, wiping sweat away. She needs just a moment...
Then she moves again. Charging the other boxer, the girl swings a fist, looking to strike Alan with a low blow to the gut.
COMBATSYS: Alan dodges Marisol's Medium Punch.
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Alan 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\1 Marisol
Alan sees Marisol coming yet again, swerving fast to the left to avoid the oncoming fissssssting. "Ha! Too slow, sweetcheeks!" Alan tries to sweep past Marisol with an inappropriate pat on the flanks, turning around to face her after.
"Man, you call this boxing? I bet my dad could take you, and he's hardly won a fight in his life!" Alan R. B. jabs tauntingly at Marisol, then settles into a defensive stance. Chi crackles around under his feet, swelling up around him. The lightning bolt in his hair starts to dance around, and the edges of his shirt and pants flutter in a wind that isn't there.
COMBATSYS: Alan gathers his will.
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Alan 1/--=====/=======|=======\-------\1 Marisol
"Yeah, well," comes the girl's response, dark eyes narrowing harshly as she glares at the older man. "You've been slinging chi and shit at me, and you call THAT boxing??" Frowning harshly, Marisol glares a moment longer before she merely scoffs, tossing her head.
"I don't fight cripples, anyway! Leave your daddy out of this. You're a grown man, aren't you??" though he may be concentrating on his chi in a fashion that is relatively familiar to the redhead, she, on the other hand, stands there, biding her time. "C'mon, sparky. You going to sit there all day, or are you going to DO something?"
COMBATSYS: Marisol gains composure.
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Alan 1/--=====/=======|======-\-------\0 Marisol
Alan just stands there and grins, electricity crackling around him. All of Marisol's insults are like huge arrows that come near Alan and then simply dissolve. They just have no effect! "Haha, come on. Sparky? Electricity crackles around my skin when I /move,/ you think that's at all slick?" Now with one healthy amount of power whirling around him, Alan closes in on Marisol, rolling his shoulders. Usually at this point a completely tremendous attack comes out - Alan merely ducks down, takes one step in, and swings his fist up hard at Marisol's chin.
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Marisol with Uppercut Punch.
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Alan 1/-======/=======|=======\==-----\1 Marisol
"I think it's just weird," she remarks swiftly, sporting a broad smirk. "Really, you ought to consider getting that fixed. It's really a bother. Don't you have trouble opening doors, what with that energy and all?" No matter. The girl just scoffs and leaves it at that. She's more focused on one thing: the incoming fist.
Now, with how fast he's coming, you'd THINK she'd be able to miss it. However, her timing seems particularly off; struck, the girl goes sailing up before she falls, landing in a heap. Landing with a hearty ‘thud' the girl lays there for a moment, seemingly in a daze.
Rolling rather suddenly, the girl scrambles to her feet, eyes wide and her lips pulled into a massive grin. "Now that was pretty slick," she remarks. .before she runs in and attempts to swing twice at his face before her body twists. Her fists tight and at her sides, the redhead lunges with both, fists aimed at Alan's chest and, should impact happen, a burst of chi to blast him back. "RAAAH!"
COMBATSYS: Alan fails to interrupt El Matador from Marisol with Overcharge.
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Alan 1/-------/=======|=======\===----\1 Marisol
Strangely, many of Marisol's moves resemble Alan's own - he used to swing just like this to do his Thunderhead. This is completely lost on Alan as he tries to stop Marisol cold.
As the half-Spaniard comes at him, Alan pulls his right hand back. Electricity floods into it without any sort of effort on Alan's part - it looks more like he /relaxed/ rather than focused - and he tries to deliver one huge punch right through whatever Marisol has to offer. The fist keeps coming through the blows to his face, but the last burst of chi hurls Alan several feet back. "Hoomp!" Electricity blasts uselessly through the air as the swing cuts nothing, Alan barely managing to keep on his feet as he lands.
Somewhere in the midst of her attack the girl finds herself facing a potentially painful counterattack. This is encouragement all the more for her to attack him more tenaciously than before; thus she presses her attack, and it yields positive results. Alan is blasted back, his electricity left to sizzle through empty air.
Curling her fists a bit, the redhead looks toward him as he barely lands, gray eyes faintly amused by the exchange. It would be a lie if she said she wasn't having any fun - she is. There are no regrets in her mind for picking a fight with the R drug dealer. The smirk on her lips lingers, even as she lifts her arms up, easing into a comfortable stance.
...then, in a burst of speed, the girl comes at the blonde, a fist swinging harshly for his face...
COMBATSYS: Alan parries Marisol's Cloud Nine!
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Alan 1/------=/=======|-------\-------\0 Marisol
To Alan, everything seems to slow down as Marisol's fist comes flying for him. A fighter can tell when something is about to be huge, and this... this isn't just any blow. So deep within the boxer's instinct, he knows it's time to get out of the way.
And move he does. Lightning crackles around him as he swerves, moving so fast he really might as well be teleporting, all the way around to behind Marisol. He leaves no fancy afterimages, just a trail of electricity where his hands and face went.
Before Marisol can even recover from the dodge, Alan once again pulls his arm back, relaxing. Electric chi swells up enormously as he drives his fist at her back, grinning. Lightning bolts snap off the gathered mass at random, attracting to anything nearby. A roar of thunder slowly builds.
"OVERCHARGE!"
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Marisol with Overcharge EX.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /// ]
Alan 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Marisol
The chopper came in flying low, making it hard to hear the thundering whirling blades until the all black aircraft crested over one of the Pacific High buildings. A sleek, modern looking craft, it looks designed for fast travel rather than combat. It is large enough to easily carry six to eight people.
Somehow the pilot decides that the grassy area inside the gates of Pacific High is a perfectly legitimate place for a helocopter to land as it touches down almost as abruptly as it had appeared. The landing struts absorbe the momentum as they dig two ruts into the well maintained lawn and a door slides open.
Stepping out of the craft, Alan's 'employer' sets foot on the grass, pausing for a moment to straighten his suit coat. Idly brushing off a sleave, he glances toward the two fighters just as Alan drives his fist toward the high school girl's back. With decisive steps, Rugal steps away from the copter to approach the fighters outside of the gate.
The first swing hits...nothing.
For a moment, time slows down for Marisol. There is the faintest look of surprise on her face as her fist swings, but in the wake of her blow, Alan just isn't there. Gray eyes go wide, her expression baffled before a sound catches her ears from behind. He's back there?
Pivoting harshly on her heel, the girl squares her shoulders, a last-ditch attempt to just...take it like a MAN - even if she's not a man. Still, the burst is a bit overwhelming and, as result, the girl is launched back a few feet, rolling head over heels until she stops. Is she down for the count!?
Hell no! Pulling herself up, the redhead sports a massive grin on her lips, a hand running itself across her face. "Ha ha, that stung, just a little," she wheezes, clearly labored for breath. Yet her attentions are momentarily diverted at the sound of a chopper landing nearby. Pacific isn't precisely alien to such modes of transport, but still, it's a bit unnerving nonetheless.
And maybe - just maybe - it will buy her some time. Dashing toward Alan in a last-ditch effort, the girl attempts to lodge her knuckles into Alan's gut. And should he not be a slippery bastard, will follow up with a grab of his head, to introduce it to her knee before she delivers a nice, harsh vertical kick straight to his jaw!
Either way, however, the girl's not about to fight anymore. And maybe that's a good thing, what with Alan's employer coming toward them and all.
COMBATSYS: Marisol can no longer fight.
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Alan 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Alan blocks Marisol's Chain Reaction.
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Alan 0/-------/----===|
After the blow, Alan swings his hand to the side, throwing off the excess chi in an arc as he tightens his control. "As you were askin' earlier... having all this power just means I need to be a badass in order to put on a shirt in the morning. I figure, hey, what's life without challenges?" Marisol isn't done yet - Alan's left hand drops, taking the first punch on the elbow, while he catches the incoming kick with his right hand, taking a moment to glance appreciatively up Marisol's leg before tossing the foot away. How filthy!
One would think that suddenly being aware of the approach of Rugal, one of the most dangerous men in the world, would cause a level of tension - especially when he's your boss. It's only smart, right? Alan, now, he digs up another cigarette to replace the one lost with Marisol's first punch, rubbing his neck with his left hand. "Hey, Ruu--hhuurrhhhrrHHRRM... sir." Alan, try to be discreet? Right.
By the time the two have exchanged their last solid punches, Rugal has already drawn up nearby. In one hand, he folds and unfolds the end of the thin, black scarf that hangs open around his neck, playing with the fabric with his fingers as if it was some idle habit.
It is with the faintest of smirks that he studies Alan, looking at him as if an object of some curious interest. There is for only an instant a red gleam in the tall, suited man's right eye before he speaks, "Heh. Having fun, I see. She gave you quite the fight. Only your fear of her punches got you moving fast enough to avoid them... Let's see how much you had left in you!"
And with that, Rugal takes three swift steps forward, his arm lashing out with a blindingly fast jab for the side of Alan's face before he can get that new cigarette up to his mouth. As the scarf is still wrapped around his hand, it moves with the punch, like a black serpent affixed to his palm.
COMBATSYS: Rugal has joined the fight here.
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Alan 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Rugal
COMBATSYS: Rugal successfully hits Alan with Medium Punch EX.
- Power hit! -
[ \ < > //////////////////////////////]
Alan 1/----===/=======|=------\-------\0 Rugal
"Badass?" She sounds almost incredulous, smoky gray eyes looking toward the boxer with an uncertain look as he shrugs off her blows. A smirk swiftly cuts across her lips thereafter, before dark eyes simply snap shut. "Heh, you're quite arrogant. But you put up a good fight. I had fun." At least she's honest. A single eye opens swiftly thereafter as she adds, "You're still a pervert, though. Hanging around the school like that."
Withdrawing, the redhead puts distance between herself and the boxer - especially when Rugal begins to approach. Shifting her gaze from one man to the next, the girl seems clueless as to who it is precisely in front of her. Still, she watches with morbid curiosity - more so as he actually swings right at Alan without so much as holding back.
Her lips cut into a sharp smirk. Ha ha, she likes this guy already.
Alan glances over to Marisol after she speaks, a faint sneer on his lips. "Hey, it's not all pleasure." He begins to glance back at Rugal as though to indicate him. "Business, to-"
Let's freeze frame. Over there is Marisol, slowly backing up, if not necessarily cautiously. Alan R. B., the young boxer, is turning toward his employer, Rugal Bernstein. He is sneering slightly, in mid-sass, hair and sunglasses undamaged despite the fight. A wisp of smoke curls up from his cigarette. And there is Rugal, leader of the organization R, mastermind behind many criminal plots, swinging his fist at his employee. At this instant in time that we have captured, Rugal's fist is approximately three inches from his face, the very tip of the black scarf tickling his nose. Several Pacific students have gathered to watch - some who recognize Rugal have shock or awe on their faces. A man is pushing a fruit cart, intent on getting it to a refridgerated location.
Marisol finishes a step. The cigarette drops from Alan's mouth. A wheel creaks. A student gasps.
Struck right on by Rugal's fist, Alan is just lifted up off his feet, hurled right across the street. Oranges and bananas and persimmons fly everywhere. The cart, now full of fruit and boxer, emits a loud groan.
Lowering his arm, Rugal looks neither pleased nor annoyed, as if everything played out exactly as he had known it would. It's as if he had already had the ending spoiled for him by one of those infuriating forum threads where the spoiler is in the thread title itself, impossible to miss until the damage has been done.
In the background, the chopper waits, parked on the Pacific High's front lawn. It is in that direction that Rugal gestures with his hand as if indicating that one of the other men aboard the aircraft should come over. Out of the back leaps a black-suited no-name who runs swiftly over to the crimelord, intent on not keeping him waiting for a moment. "Make sure Mister Alan gets aboard. Already things are slipping behind schedule." he commands. With the way he doesn't so much as glance at the gathered crowd, they may as well not exist in his mind. With the same decisive gait he had arrived, Rugal makes his way back to the chopper where he'll wait for Alan. If the crated boxer can't make it on his own two feet, he'll end up getting carried. Let's hope for his sake it doesn't come to that.
Whatever Alan was GOING to say is clearly cut off by his employer's particularly nasty attack. While the redhead holds nothing against Alan, there's still something amusing about watching someone outclassed get totally served. Maybe it will humble the boxer and bring him down a peg. And, hey. He deserves it for hitting her in the face.
She follows his flight through the air, her head turning as he soars from one side of the street to the other, landing in a particularly nasty mess in the remains of a cart full of fresh fruits. Briefly, the half-Spaniard girl winces in sympathy for poor Alan. Part of her is left to wonder if he's even still ALIVE after that. Probably so.
Eventually, the redhead snaps out of her daze, eyes slowly drifting back onto Rugal. Peering thoughtfully at the strange, particularly tall fellow, the Pacific student just lifts a hand from her side and idly rubs the back of her head. Even as he takes his leave, the woman just stares. Who the hell was that? What the hell is Alan's job? And why are they parking on her school's lawn?
Without a word the Pacific student just about-faces on her heel and begins a casual, easy stroll in the opposite direction, toward the heart of downtown. That was...weird, to say the least. She's just glad she didn't come out the winner. She pauses when she's near Alan, however, sparing him a glance with dull gray eyes before she offers a wolfish grin.
"Heeey. Tough luck there, champ. Better luck next time."
Alan doesn't move for a long time. He's obviously concious from the groaning, intermittent swearing, and occasional flinging of fruit from his body. Eventually he climbs out of the fruit cart, scowling down at his expensive clothes, which are pretty much ruined. He peels his vest off, unheeding of the buttons flying around, and tosses it away. He also peels off his shirt as he crosses, revealing leanly cut musculature - and revealing that electricity faintly crackles across all of his skin, not just his fists. He snorts as he passes by Marisol, glancing up with his contrasing pale grey eyes. The glasses came off at some point. "Hey, what'd you expect? It's Rugal."
Probably not the best idea to come out and say that, but there it is. Alan climbs up into the helicopter, wadding up the salvageable shirt, and begins to discuss what he's managed to sell that day.
COMBATSYS: Rugal has left the fight here.
[ \ <
Alan 1/----===/=======|
COMBATSYS: Alan has ended the fight here.
Log created on 16:36:06 06/19/2007 by Marisol, and last modified on 13:07:08 07/25/2007.