Description: Anthrax (1987). Elle, Frei, and Soiree do battle in an exhibition free for all as Elle tries to maintain her skills in the face of ever-growing amounts of administrative work. While Elle and Soiree pound Frei into a thin gruel, Elle takes almost all of the damage and is easily dispatched by Soiree in the end game.
Metro City: A Nicer Place To Live.
If you conveniently forget that the place gets invaded once a year by some random attack force filled with crazies, Metro City can be a pretty good place to put down roots. Lately, there's been enough peace and quiet for people to forget about all the horrible things and go back to living life. Part of that is enjoying the various matches that occur in town.
And tonight is no different. As the main attraction tonight, Elle, Soiree, and Frei have been placed to battle one another for the enjoyment of the masses to the tune of a thirty dollar ticket. No, it's not high, but then again, nobody here is exactly Sagat. Elle's nearly unknown, Soiree is mostly known as a male model, and Frei? Well, Frei's known fairly well, actually.
But he's still not Sagat.
Elle couldn't really care less. Money is all she needs, and having worked out what she'll be receiving, win or lose, Elle's got no delusions of grandeur here. All she wants is a fast battle so she can get moving on the billion projects that are constantly up in the air. Clad in a casual combat boots, camo pants, and black tank top, she looks more ready to slum it than battle tonight as she steps out to the arena.
She adjusts the straps along her back that hold her guitar in place, and awaits her fellow fighters to arrive.
Time is money after all. Tick tock.
In another continuity, Frei was probably a pro-wrestler. I mean, think about it. He learned to fight in barfights, he's flashy and knows his holds and bars and all that. He's got a thing for costumes. If he were a little bit less of a queermo he might have a future in the sport, but let's face it, the accusations of homoerotic content are bad enough without it actually being homoerotic.
Shortly before now, Frei was actually on vacation in the US while the roofers fixed the damage to his house made by his little spat with the Koga Devil, Marise... never mind the psychological fallout, which he really didn't need. So he got on a plane and went to Idaho for a potato festival... and then to Kentucky for a corn-husking festival... and then to Milwaukee for beer and brats. In fact he's been eating his way across the United States for a solid week now. Metro is the last spot on his list.
This morning was lox and bagels. Lunch was chicken parmagiana at a place in Little Italy. Dinner's not for a few hours but Frei's working up to it with some baklava when he sees the sign for the SlamMasters Arena... and the open invitation for fighting. Well, why the hell not?
But the fight IS over dinner time, so Frei is currently in his corner of the ring eating a hamburger. With both hands. Rather too enthusiastically, too.
'Casual combat boots'. Soiree would need to take a second look on those, to see exactly what could -POSSIBLY- qualify under those terms, but he also has better things to do. After a thirty-minute long "talk" with his coach and agent Mr. Frederique Beart (No relation, we hope), Meira has FINALLY finished his pre-fight preparation, and just in time! Elle makes her appearance, Frei sits in the corner, contentedly eating a hamburger, and... Soiree's nowhere to be seen.
Well. Kind of.
The lights of the arena darken, and the Jumbotron monitors on its far side flash to life, with enormous pictures of Soiree's handsome, smiling mug sliding in from their respective upper-right hand corners. It's a static image, but far, far more than the other two contestants might have expected -- as is the sudden introduction of bombastic, bass-heavy music, blasting from the ceiling-mounted speakers. It's positively deafening. It's mind-numbing. It's horrifying.
It is... N*SYNC's "Space Cowboys".
Smoke blasts out from the floor in twin geysers, framing the walkway from the fighters' entrance to the arena's side in a misty, bombastic display of pyrotechnics and flair. Meira makes his appearance, to the announcement of "From Metro City's downtown, our own Soiree Meira!!!" Cheers explode all over the arena, the FATE gangster begins his cool, collected strut down that walkway, and hops into the arena on his own side in only a few seconds, like it's nothing particularly new.
The lights come back up, the TVs fade, the music stops. Soiree, stretching out, wearing that ridiculous cowboy get-up, winks to Elle, smiles at Frei. "Hey, gang. We ready to do this?"
COMBATSYS: Elle has started a fight here.
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Elle 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Soiree has joined the fight here.
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Soiree 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Elle
COMBATSYS: Frei has joined the fight here.
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Soiree 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Frei
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Elle 0/-------/-------|
Short answer?
"Yeah."
Elle's not very chatty in a fight. Normally, her speech is terse and commanding. Some would say 'bossy'. The second that Soiree's little ceremony ends, though, all verbal communication capacity ceases on the mercenary. Talking too much has sunk more than a few people, and Elle plans to live and die by her own merits. It's fine if she's beaten because she's outclassed. What does doesn't want is to drop with her foot in her mouth.
She falls into a combat stance, and looks over her options. There's the model boy, and then there's the guy over there stuffing his face with food. About a year ago, Elle would have scoffed at both.
Not any more.
She crouches, her body surging with a crack of lightning, the burst of energy surrounding her like a bright corona. Feet scrape across the arena floor as she lurches into combat without so much as a word. Eyes flick back and forth between two opponents, and she charges towards Soiree first.
Most people wouldn't be concerned about a 5'10" tall 135 pound woman rushing them unless they were cowards or wimps, but Elle somehow manages to make the approach look vaguely foreboding. The woman's dour, expressionless face doesn't so much as twitch as she reaches the man, and leaps...
...and with a surprisingly deft motion, uses Soiree as a springboard. Lightly grabbing his shoulder, she swings around him harmlessly to whip about to Frei. Going airborne, she flings at the monk with surprising speed. Hands like iron claws reach for the burger-chowing man to grab him by the head. Should she succeed? She'll attempt a quick snapping motion as she tries to pull Frei's head clean off.
COMBATSYS: Frei endures Elle's 17 Crash.
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Soiree 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Frei
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Elle 0/-------/------=|
Soiree's entrance gets a... well, a lot of blinking from Frei, over the sound of a hamburger being devoured with gusto. Wow... flashy. Way flashier than Frei is used to, plus let's face it, Soiree IS kind of cute, so the monk just sort of stares and watches, continuing to eat. "Wow," he murmurs around a mouthful of beef, barely audible.
Then Elle is on top of him and trying to uncap his head to get to the delicious fruit filling, which... confuses him, since Soiree was certainly the shining star and Elle is sort of... a spinning piece of space dust hidden in his corona. He doesn't have time to mount a defense so he doesn't bother; instead, he plants his feet and bites down on the remains of the burger, letting Elle... yank. And yank. It certainly does sting, particularly in the muscles of his neck and shoulders, but the monk doesn't appear to be interested in going anywhere.
Instead, he makes a fist which suddenly explodes into a crackling burst of purple lightning, and quite smartly brings it up and looks to smack Elle right in the face with it. "Ah eeing hee!" he muffles around his dinner. Some people have no manners whatsoever.
@emit
A few things happen once Elle starts sprinting towards Metro's favorite gangbanger. First? He's expecting a call of "FIGHT!" or something... so Elle's rush towards him doesn't really give Soiree much to fear. She /is/, after all, probably just a crazed fan, trying for an autograph, maybe a kiss. It wouldn't be the first time! Soiree offers Elle a wry smile, a lighthearted shrug, and extends his arms towards her, that pretty face tied up with a 'C'mere, baby' expression.
Imagine Soiree's surprise when the lady doesn't go for a kiss at all! That smug expression turns to one of simple shock when Soiree's the unfortunate recipient of a body-spring, and bears witness to Elle tugging on Frei's head again... and again... and again. It's not a situation that really allows for an ATTACK, so-to-speak... Soiree takes the moment to step to the side, away from the maniacal rocker-chick and the hungry monk. He adjusts his hat, humming to himself, and simply watches for now.
After a moment or two, the heels of those handtooled, leather cowboy boots begin to tap against the mat, while Soiree takes a moment to get a good song in his head. Realizing he's doing nothing to "please the audience", Meira raises both hands, brings them to his lips, and blows one room-wide kiss before announcing:
"S'ALMOST TIME, FOLKS! YOU READY FOR THIS?!"
COMBATSYS: Soiree focuses on his next action.
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Soiree 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Frei
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Elle 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Elle with Quick Punch.
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Soiree 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Frei
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Elle 0/-------/-----==|
Energy punch, eh? Well, given such a quick reaction, Elle doesn't have time to evade the retaliation quickly, either. Although she tries to raises up a hand in defense, the fist manages to thread the needle between two upraised arms and pound her square in the noggin, her head kicking back violently for a moment... before righting itself up again. It stung, and Frei definitely wasn't trying to land a killing blow here.
The recovery is fast, though. Maybe a little too fast. Ignoring Soiree for the time being as she steadfastly continues to break one opponent at a time, her hand shoots forward again. The iron-claw hands this time attempt to latch onto his collar bone.
Stepping back with calculated force, she tries to move the solid man again. If his head's not going to just pop off, she'll have to settle for tossing him around like a rag doll. Just to make sure that Soiree knows that she hasn't forgotten about him, she's going to do her best to heave Frei towards him. If she's lucky, it'll force Soiree to ram into the incoming Frei with any attack he may have.
Although she wouldn't count on it.
COMBATSYS: Frei fails to interrupt Medium Throw from Elle with Charged Throw.
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Soiree 0/-------/-------|====---\-------\0 Frei
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Elle 0/-------/-----==|
Well, that kinda hurt. Frowning at Elle as he swallows the last of the hamburger, the monk manages to get out "Don't I know you from som--" before she's making a grab for his collar. There's a flicker of... something around Frei's own hands. To Elle, it might feel like a cool breeze... but it ends up being irrelevant as the monk's reaction time is a little too slow, and he ends up flipping through the air at the punk girl's behest.
Perhaps to her chagrin, however, the monk rights himself in midair and lands in a crouch, standing up and dusting off his shirt, giving Elle a frown. After a pause, he finishes his thought: "...from somewhere?"
While Frei and Elle continue to duke it out, the crowd's approval grows from moderate applause into wild cheers, since everybody loves to see people who are not themselves being brutally thrown around. Soiree, on the sidelines until RIGHT NOW, begins to run towards the two other combatants, just in time to have one Frei tossed -directly- at him. He manages a quick "W-whoa!" before falling into a cleverly-executed hip-slide beneath the airborne monk, coming up to his feet immediately afterwards, no momentum lost. Because he is a spry motherfucker.
He takes a moment to adjust his hat before pointing directly at Elle, eyes narrowed, jaw set. "You need to learn some manners, I'm thinkin'! I'm sick of folks like you ruining a good fight by making it so much business! Loosen up! Have a good time!" Point made, hat adjusted, Soiree breaks into a dead sprint, hunched low to the ground. He's moving quickly enough so that red afterimages trail behind him, though that COULD be a latent manifestation of -overwhelming attractiveness chi-.
Around a foot from Elle, Soiree tumbles into a somersault forwards, before catching the ground with his left hand, using it as a support for the lightning-fast whipcrack of a roundhouse-styled mule-kick he delivers to Elle's hips.
"SCHLAU... OUTBURST!"
COMBATSYS: Elle endures Soiree's Schlau Outburst.
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Soiree 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Frei
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Elle 0/-------/--=====|
That seems about right. Soiree decides to take advantage of the fact that Elle's about fighting as opposed to looking pretty, and tags her in the back for it. Elle's expecting this attack a little more that Soiree might be expecting, and as a result, she manages to steel herself against the incoming attack. As the man's feet slam into her, Elle's lurches backward, which turns into a short roll.
Recovering from the assault with some alacity, Elle's legs slide out under her, steadying a slide back before hurling herself forward again.
A long, thin wire is unlimbered from her arm, the seemingly decorative item sliding down to her hand quickly as she runs forward, spinning it over her head. Soiree's words of wisdom are ignored as Elle swoops by him. Using him as impromptu cover, she once again rushes the man, and then jinks left, sliding out as she whips the long length of wire towards Frei. If she manages, the wire will wrap around Frei's arm, and she'll sends a serious jolt of electrical energy down the length to fry the monk.
Oh. And to Frei's question? The answer is short, and sweet. "Does it matter?"
COMBATSYS: Frei blocks Elle's Powerslave.
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Soiree 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Frei
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Elle 0/-------/-======|
Elle gets her wire around the monk's arm, but the result is probably not as impressive as she might have hoped. The sudden yank on his arm stings a little, but the electrical charge finds itself almost entirely grounded by the time it gets across the distance to Frei, the monk reading the 'lines' of the chi and modulating his own aura to match. It's actually a quite sophisticated defense, not that the average viewer would know what he even did, devoid as the action is of any particular sparkle.
However, the monk isn't in the mood to counterattack. Instead, he shakes the wire off his arm and pulls himself into a defensive stance, the air around him suddenly shimmering with gold and silver sparks as he gathers his own chi to rally. "You'd think I'd remember the bad attitude, at any rate," he says in response.
COMBATSYS: Frei gathers his will.
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Soiree 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\1 Frei
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Elle 0/-------/-======|
Soiree's feet both hit the ground less than an instant after colliding with Elle's back, and the cowboy falls into a low-to-the-ground, leaned-back crouch that has one hand up by his face, almost protectively, and the other on the ground supporting his awkward position. It puts him in a prime place to watch the ongoing battle, one that seems to be EXCLUDING him, raging on between these two old acquaintainces(?). Unmolested as he is, Soiree rolls backwards, flashy as ever, and comes to a standing position after a reverse kip-up takes him from his shoulders into a backflip.
"Hmph! Ignore me all you want, but I'm not gonna sit this out! You'll learn to keep your eyes on all comers, like it or not!" Soiree starts running AGAIN, attention focused on the stationary, chi-sparkling monk. Soiree doesn't bother altering his momentum once he's within a few feet of Frei, instead tumbling forwards once more, coming up on both hands and executing a pommel-horse routine of dazzling, momentum-laden roundhouse kicks. The way he's "sitting" on his hands allows him to swing both legs about and target Frei's ankles, thighs, and hips -- and Soiree's going quickly enough so that there's a very clear bluish streak behind his boots, indicating the AWESOME POWERS at work here. Really.
Elle's learned a few things about fighting. One of them is to just not talk much. Another is to always be moving. Finally, Elle picks an opponent, and then pounds it relentlessly. As Frei turns himself into a sitting duck, Elle would be a complete idiot to not exploit his stationary action. Elle's dealt with people that charge before, and she's not about to let the monk sit still without paying for it.
Elle retracts her wire as Soiree rushes in from one side, letting the length of the weapon wind up around her arm. There's no time to lose, as Soiree coul very well close her opportunity window for her.
Swooping around to flank the embattled chi-laden fighter, she rushes up to roughly shove the man into Soiree's pounding feet in order to make whatever damage Soiree feels like inflicting even worse. It's not precisely teamwork, but using her surroundings is one of her many keys of survival.
COMBATSYS: Frei endures Soiree's Swelling Danzen.
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Soiree 0/-------/-----==|=======\===----\1 Frei
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Elle 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: Frei interrupts Strong Throw from Elle with Hyoushou Rengeki.
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Soiree 0/-------/-----==|=======\==-----\1 Frei
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Elle 1/------=/=======|
Okay. So it's two on one. That's fine with Frei... as Soiree goes for the carousel routine, Frei lets his body go limp, getting carried along with the swell of the Swelling Danzen... so that when Elle comes in for whatever the hell she's trying to do, he's in a considerably better position to stare her right in the face, grab her gripping hands, and then let loose with a hellacious blast of ice crystals -- focused so that Soiree feels no more than a chill breeze -- that should send the opportunistic rock girl across the stage and away from him. Then the remaining force of Soiree's kicks sends him into the ropes, where he stays, panting for breath. Yeah.
And Elle is hit with a thunderous amount of ice shards. One would suspect that would be enough to place the girl out of the running and give her a reasonable deterrant for attacks. After all, nothing about that was particularly pleasant. The ice shards rip and tear at her skin, blasting through normally hardened defenses. If Elle had time to prepare for the assault, she's relatively sure that she would have manages through that a lot better.
But she's not really going to muse on that. Soiree's a clown, but he's clearly stronger than she is. So is Frei. The only real impetus at this point is to keep thrashing at the same target. That's her strategy, and she'll stick to it.
Still staggered by the ice burst, Elle's only thought is to keep the monk on the ropes. She's got no chance at taking down Soiree at this point, and Frei's frankly not going to turn her attentions onto the shootfighter any time soon.
Her gambit is a losing one. Why do you think she procured her cut of the payment before she even stepped foot into the ring?
By betting she could just take down one of these goofballs, she's secured more money for her organization. And as she considers this, she's in the air already. Hurtling through the sky of the Arena, Elle's hand reaches downward for the monk. Landing with a ground-rattling thud, she'll try to toss him into the air, and then bash the man cleanly with her guitar and smash him clean across the arena with all the grim determination she can muster.
COMBATSYS: Frei blocks Elle's Iron Maiden.
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Soiree 0/-------/-----==|=======\===----\1 Frei
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Elle 0/-------/------=|
After taking Frei down a peg or three with that combination of kicks at his lower body, Soiree rolls backwards, into that same low, ready position he's known for. The man lifts a hand to his forehead, brushes a stray lock of hair from his face, and glances first at Elle, then Frei, then Elle again. His expression is a quizzical one... he asks, patiently:
"You two exes or something? This seems kinda personal..."
Regardless of what their answers are, Soiree's intention is to get this fight on a more "traditional" track, as quickly as possible. He springs to his feet, upright for only a moment before launching into a quick front-flip that brings both of his ankles onto Frei's shoulders, where he'll quickly - very quickly - twist to the side and send the monk crashing into the floor.
COMBATSYS: Soiree successfully hits Frei with Strong Throw.
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Soiree 0/-------/----===|=======\======-\1 Frei
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Elle 0/-------/------=|
Aw, look. All it takes is two people relentlessly doing nothing but smacking him over and over again with no gaps or stops to get Frei to fall down! Which is exactly what happens. Which part of him is hit by who is sort of irrelevant; the end result is that he ends up lying face first on the mat off in a corner somewhere where he'll be out of the way of the real fight, or whatever. The audience even gets to boo a couple times, considering the monk did a massive amount of nothing and they're a picky bunch.
COMBATSYS: Frei takes no action.
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Soiree 0/-------/----===|=======\======-\1 Frei
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Elle 0/-------/------=|
That's pretty much how things work out. Elle's got no sense of fair play or mercy and frankly doesn't have anything to do with Soiree's activity. She's already been on the receiving end of the shootfighter's powerful feet. The fact is that it was a coin toss between Soiree and Frei, and unfortunately for the monk, his number came up.
As for this being personal? Well, that's a misconception. For Elle, everything's business. She just takes whatever tasks she's been assigned or has assigned herself extremely seriously.
"Don't know this guy," she mutters under her breath as she passes Soiree once again to make sure that the monk is really down for the count. The relentless rocker decides to plan a foot on the man one final time before she turns her full attention onto Soiree. She's not in the best condition, and the most that the model seems to have in the way of damage is in the brain...
And he came to the fight like that.
COMBATSYS: Frei fails to interrupt Medium Strike from Elle with Fukami Reikai.
- Power fail! -
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Soiree 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Elle
COMBATSYS: Frei can no longer fight.
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Soiree 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Elle
Wow, amazing. Elle can walk over and kick somebody who's lying prone! And he can't even roll over in time to make some sort of final stand. With a last gasp of the air that's keeping him conscious, Frei exhales sharply in pain and then slumps, totally out for the count for real this time, it would appear. Maybe someone will take pity and buy him an "I LOVE METRO CITY" t-shirt to wear over the bruises on the plane back to Japan.
It's been an awkward fight for Soiree, so that much is bound to make his impression on Elle ten times worse. As it stands, he's got little to do but roll back from his -last- hit, achieve what may well be the world's most laid-back, cocky stance (it involves thumbs being shoved through his beltloops, and a hat being head-tilted into proper position between his shoulders). "You done pickin' on that poor kid with the hamburger, lady? I've been pretty bored over here."
Soiree simply struts towards Elle, here, and pulls one hand from his hip, to better make absolutely useless gestures in midair while he speaks EVEN MORE. "So I'm thinkin'... what've you got against the guy? Vegetarian? It's not like you're gonna get the cow back by beatin' the shit out of the guy who's eatin' it. You need to loosen up, babe. Maybe I can show you a good time after this? I'll buy dinner." Soiree winks afterwards, and... well, the smile on his face fades immediately.
He breaks into a moderate jog towards Elle, so he's able to better control the tight side-twist he lurches into, body suddenly parallel with the ground, both feet angled towards Soiree's only opponent in a quick kick, aimed for the head, that's SURE to take him to the ground immediately afterwards... all the better to roll away, right!?
COMBATSYS: Elle blocks Soiree's Change-Up Kick.
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Soiree 0/-------/---====|=------\-------\0 Elle
And now for the other guy. Elle's attention clicks onto the other man as she steps off the fallen monk, her eyes narrowing slighty as the boy speaks. Pupils wide as bullet holes, Elle's mind moves swiftly through some calculations as she evaluates her surroundings. The incoming attack isn't exactly swift, and as he goes to kick her head clean off her shoulders, Elle is able to mount a successful defense. His heavy kick slams against her upraised arms with considerable force, however, and she staggers back.
At this point, Elle's options are somewhat limited. Caught in the bind of having to switch gears mid battle, she hesitates for a split second as she adjusts for another fighting style, and then attempts to rush down the smiling man.
Moving at full speed, she leaps, one arm stretched to the side as she attempts to catch the man in the crook of her elbow, and bring him to the ground with a move-by style throw.
COMBATSYS: Soiree dodges Elle's Medium Throw.
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Soiree 0/-------/---====|=------\-------\0 Elle
It's a good thing Soiree's rolling around. He's able to do another one of those fantastic reverse kip-ups, landing on his boots with barely any sound to it at all: A sign of the level of agility the model applies to his movements. Another good embodiment of this agility is the way Soiree handily spins on his heel, applying an obvious, yet hard-to-read rhythm to his evasion of Elle's incoming rush. The man's reflexes are very clearly top-notch, as he'd just barely stood up before Elle just came RUSHING in like that... but it's clearly something that was at the limit of his abilities.
"Hah... whew, jeez! I learned my lesson, babe: Cold as ice! No fun over here. Guess I'll finish this mess now, see about relaxing on my own, huh? Hate to write a pretty lady off like this... but you're pushin' ALL the wrong buttons!"
Soiree doesn't pause after speaking, and is actually finishing up those last few words AS he takes off towards the other fighter, quick to jump into an impromptu flying kick that'd land - unfortunately - squarely on the center of Elle's chest. Soiree doesn't stop there, however, forcing the woman to the ground and literally RIDING her across the floor, arms extended so that he doesn't fall off, halfway through, and look silly.
"Sa-weeeeet!"
If it hits? The crowd goes WILD. That's what they know the model for, that crazy body-surfing.
COMBATSYS: Elle interrupts Body Werfen from Soiree with Metal Health.
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Soiree 1/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Elle
Elle's hit, the crowd goes wild, and she's sent to the ground, sliding across the floor of the arena like a very unhappy looking skateboard. The impact alone causes some serious damage. However, Elle doesn't take the attack without a fight. Instead of being pushed along the floor for the full distance, she's able to bring up both her hands.
Raising them level with the man's head, her fingers spasm, and a shimmering wave of power is unleashed, sent boiling towards Soiree's head at a rather unpleasant clip.
When it finally hits his ears? It sounds like a small bass bomb has gone off somewhere in the vicinity of his cerebral cortex as the woman unleashes a horrible amount of sonic chi into the man's ears. Hopefully this'll make him think twice before getting his werfen anywhere near the mercenary rocker.
"H- AUGH!" Soiree's not expecting Elle to bust out her Magical Rock Witch powers, especially during his (informally) SIGNATURE ATTACK. The sound hits his ears much as described, and rather than send him flying backwards (lol stock reactions), it sends him to his knees, tassled gloves lifted to his head, eyes closed tightly. "God-damn-! Feels like I got hit with a brick! What the hell kind of philosophy do you subscribe to, lady? I'm glad I'm done with you after this... the date'd be a horrible one!"
While he's definitely working slowly, here, Soiree's able to shake his head out more quickly than others might. Attribute it to brain damage, maybe. The bottom line is that he's able to get to his feet in a moment - perhaps a second after Elle - and rush towards the woman, still shaking his head out. "Augh! LOCK ONTO THIS, LOSER!" Soiree breaks into a rather... girly twirl during his run, and sort of -scoops- his heel into Elle's midsection. If this hits properly, it'll send the woman into the air, followed by a GLOWING Soiree... who'll twist, kick his other foot into Elle, and the ENTIRE AREA will explode with that ambiguous blue chi that. Just like Hotaru's!
COMBATSYS: Elle blocks Soiree's Big Wittwoch.
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Soiree 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Elle
One this is for sure, for a fruity looking guy, Soiree hits pretty damn hard. Even if she's a tough broad, Elle's not taking this hit without feeling the pain. Even as she blocks the powerful attack, the crashing sensation of the man's feet pounding against her defense almost makes her footing falter. Even after she repels the initial break, she slams to one knee with a grunt. That hurt like hell, and she's not going to be able to take much more of this kind of abuse.
Already worn out from having to smash through Frei, she's forced to set on the defensive, backing up at a decent gait as she tries to get a handle on her surroundings. Her sound chi is a great trick and fairly lethal if applied properly... but it's very draining at the same time. Hopefully, Soiree will keep flapping his gums in order to let Elle marhsall some strength up so she can at least put up a decent battle.
COMBATSYS: Elle gains composure.
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Soiree 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Elle
Soiree doesn't think of it as "abuse". To him, it's... what happens when you get in a fight. Elle's not measuring up to the hits, sure, but he knows he's "pretty good" so far as these sorts of things are concerned. This isn't to be confused with some kind of crazy metaposing disdain for Elle -- just look at Soiree's face! Half of him wants to ask the girl if she's just having an off day, while the other half is... well. That's the half in control of things right now. And, unfortunately for Elle, Soiree's not taking any time to talk about it.
Instead, he rushes the rocker chick, AGAIN, screaming full-force. The model mindfully keeps a hand on his hat so as to keep it from being DROPPED ALL OVER THE ARENA FLOOR before simply lowering a shoulder and attempting to /tackle/ Elle, whereupon he'll hook a foot around her ankle, push it forwards while pressing his weight into the woman's sternum... and the outcome SHOULD be one mercenary, slammed into the floor so roughly that her head bounces off of it.
COMBATSYS: Soiree successfully hits Elle with Medium Throw.
- Power hit! -
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Soiree 0/-------/---====|=======\-------\0 Elle
At this point, Elle's got very little left in the way of power and concentration. She's managed one good hit on Soiree, and that's probably all she's good for at this point. Elle's good about managing her power when it comes to one opponent. Indeed, one on one with Soiree, she'd probably stand a good chance, if his reaction to getting nailed with her chi-blaster attack is any indication. When faced with more than that, however? She runs low on power and her actions start to get a little sloppy.
That's probably why she messes up when Soiree decides to plant her face on the ground, he head cracking against the arena floor like a castenet. The powerful hit cuases her to let out a sharp gasp, and she's forced to roll over and stagger to her feet.
Elle can barely even see straight. Scraping to her feet, she tries for one last desperate attempt at taking down the shootfighter another few pegs. Crouching on her haunches, she immediately leaps towards the man, hands outstretched as she goes in for a low tackle, attempting to pull Soiree's legs out from under him.
COMBATSYS: Soiree fails to interrupt Medium Throw from Elle with Piledriver Dynamisch.
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Soiree 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Elle
Soiree's hardly the sort of guy who'd take an 'invitation' from a pretty lady, beaten-up or not, and decline it. Elle's leap forwards is not so much a threat, to Soiree, as it is a suggestion to "lay on the ground with a hot chick" for a while. This is precisely the reason his reaction time is so SLOW... he's considering how, exactly, he's going to get to first base. Possibly third. He certainly doesn't have very long to work with it!
There's a bit of horrified realization on his face, only seconds after he's come up from his recovery roll. The attempt at a front-flip, double-legged stomp on Elle's lunging form is unfortunately DENIED as the woman grabs hold of an ankle and sends the denim-clad cowboy tumbling to the ground, head-over-heels, ego (hopefully) thrown straight out the window! OH NO, SOIREE!
At some point, stick-to-it-tiveness only takes you so far. The model can afford to take risks. After all, at this point a stiff breeze will be enough to cause Elle to fall apart. In spite of all the brusing and the lacerations received from Soiree's repeated kickings and Frei's ice shards, however, Elle keeps on trucking like a champ. For all intents and purposes, she shouldn't even be concious right now.
Never turn your back an opportunity, however. As Soiree hits the ground like a sack of potatoes, Elle goes in for the combo throw. Sliding her arms under Soiree's, she attempts to lift him high into the air, and then fall back, slamming the man into the mat. After all, this is a wrestling ring, right?
Although she doesn't know the name of the maneuver, she's seen it enough times to know that it seems to work, even if her body is demanding that she needs to stop.
COMBATSYS: Soiree interrupts Medium Throw from Elle with Zart Zap.
- Power hit! -
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Soiree 0/-------/-======|=======\==-----\1 Elle
It would have worked, were it not for Soiree's impressive ability to suffer tosses that would make superior fighters cry like fat little babies. What WINDS UP occuring is that the male model strikes the ground roughly, with Elle right behind him! He manages a delirious, happy sounding, "Heya babe..." before Elle starts leaning BACKWARDS, but it's here that Soiree finally gets his bearings back. And, as it'd occur, just in time to get that definitive final blow in.
Rather than landing on his head, Soiree pulls his body backwards so that his feet are the first thing to hit the ground, leaving Elle in a bent-over-backwards position... after which Soiree VIOLENTLY leabs backwards in a hands-free backspring, legs left extended to slap against Elle's exposed back and head twice, fully, before Soiree's landed on his feet some three feet behind where he'd originally "landed".
Elle's not quire sure what happened. All she knows is that it hurt. Normally, this would just be a drop in the bucket. Given the amount of damage she's just taken, however, the fact is that it's enough to bring her to the bring of unconciousness. With a horrible crunching noise, she can feel something give. It's over, and she knows it.
But hopefully, she can land one last attack before she goes out like a candle in a hurricane.
Tearing free and standing up, ashe spreads both her arms out as she backs up, seeping to slide across the ground without actually taking steps. Her motion stops as she plants her feet, and then brings her arms forward, hands clasping. A rush of energy begins accumulating as dust rises around her feet. Normally, this attack has a more musical buildup, but Elle cant be bothered by that. Operating off of pure instinct, she raises her clasped ahdns up, and them slames them on the ground.
The ensuing rippling burst of energy expands outward, a wave of pure, unbridled destruction as it rolls almost lazily towards Soiree as it attempts to obliterate him entirely.
COMBATSYS: Elle can no longer fight.
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Soiree 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: Soiree dodges Elle's Black Sabbath.
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Soiree 0/-------/-======|
Soiree is pretty cocky about managing to knock Elle flat on her ass like that. The smile on his face is enough indication of THAT, anyway -- the model's turned around, arms spread, gesturing to his adoring audience as, predictably, his theme begins to play over those heavy-duty arena speakers, once again. The crowd erupts into cheers while Elle attempts to pull herself to her feet, and for all it'd seem, absolutely fails to notice the woman while their hero prances around like a true ham, asking for MORE applause, for MORE cheers. Love him, Metro City!
The applause stops as soon as Elle's started the theatrics that lead up to her final attack, and when she falls forward, there's enough of a pause to alert Soiree to something being 'up'. He turns, barely in time to see Elle drop to her knees and summon up that torrent of rollicking energy. As the shit (yes, it's shit) flies towards him, unavoidable in its sheer, dominating MASS, the FATE enforcer does all he really can to get away from it -- sprint the other direction, screaming. Luckily for him, nobody can hear the screams over the roar of destruction. Soiree's quick enough to get away from the blast, if just barely: It involves a clever hop over the turnbuckle at the very end of his dash, as the SlamMasters arena is rendered a pile of useless rubble (for perhaps the millionth time ever) in the aftermath of Elle's final attack. Soiree, now on the ground outside the ring, removes his hat, uses it to swipe his pants a few times, and heads towards his changing room while that glorious victory music plays. Abrupt end? Sure. But Soiree's just had his mind blown -- he needs to chill out, fall into a comfy seat, and have a beer or three before he feels like playing to a crowd again.
Log created on 23:26:17 07/18/2007 by Elle, and last modified on 13:22:01 07/21/2007.