Description: [Riko vs. Reed] Some fight for truth. Some fight for glory. But Reed?
It'd be a pleasant scene. Really, it would.
She sits in seiza upon the floor, her legs folded demurely, hands resting upon her lap. No disorderly tangle of limbs, but the composed grace of formal Japanese posture. Young, in her early teens, she wears a kimono - silk, coloured a light shade of blue. Her hair is pinned up, black strands elegantly entwined in a bun with twin lengths of polished wood. In front of her is a low wooden tea table, again of a traditional Japanese form. Upon it is a teapot - and a pair of porcelene cups, liquid within them. Steam rises in faint wisps, a strong smell.
The girl is Riko Koganei.
And this scene...it'd be pleasant, except for three things.
One, the girl is wearing, besides the kimono...a pair of in-line skates, with a hard plastic shell and tough polyurethane wheels. Of course, it's colour-coordinated - also blue. But rather incongruous, all the same.
Two, while there are hangings of rice paper and a traditional Japanese screen door at one end of the chamber... the walls and floor are a patchwork of stone and metal. With obvious rivets and welds. The lighting in the chamber is a very distinct electric blue, gleaming off the seals and sigals etched all over the metal...and off the strange pieces of machinery up against the walls in the room.
And three, the person opposite from Riko, one Tyler Reed... is not sitting in any sort of position. No, he's just sprawled on the floor, unconscious. The last thing he probably remembers is walking out of an art gallery in Southtown, just off the village district. Specifically, walking past a rather large Greek statue just by the entrance. He probably wasn't expecting it to topple off the pedestal onto his head. Mind you, even a heavy piece of marble like that shouldn't be enough to badly concuss a martial artist of his calibre. Not by accident, anyway.
But it's a wonder what extra weight and leverage can do.
Riko sits, patiently.
He should be waking up...
...now.
Well isn't this lovely. The loud-mouthed teen finds himself on the floor of said 'dojo,' groggily grappling at whatever it is that he can find. Namely, the leg of the wooden tea table, fashioned in that conventional Eastern style that he's not too familiar with. Even for a kid who's lived in Southtown for all of ten years, Tyler is just not the kind of boy to walk into a tea room of the time-honored, Japanese variety. No, given his hotheadedness and obsession with all things material, a place like that would be far-too 'zen' for him.
But that doesn't mean he /can't/ enjoy a pleasant little tea party with Riko, right?
Lurid green eyes snap open without warning. "...What the f*ck??"
RIIIIGGGHT.
No, it appears that...well, that block of marble hit him a little /too/ hard. Sure, a thief of his fighting ability can handle something like this, but he's no Kyo Kusanagi. Rubbing the back of his head, Reed bolts upright, senses on red-alert. Okay. This is definitely not what he expected today. All he wanted to do was make off with that beautiful Hokusai woodblock..and now...NOW.
Blink. "Uh...." He is truly at a loss for words. Good job, Riko. It seems you've managed to shut him up, for once.
The wooden table is shaken, somewhat, by Reed's clawing at it. Understandable, really. The poor boy must be somewhat disoriented. Forgivable. But Riko gives him a frown regardless, arching one slender eyebrow in vague disapproval. She breaks her calm poise, reaching forward to rescue the tea set. It isn't exactly the full trappings of a Japanese tea ceremony, just a teapot and a couple of cups, resting upon a tray. But Reed probably doesn't know the difference anyway. Riko prevents it from spilling, steadying it with her hand.
"Tyler Reed," Riko says, looking at him directly. The faintly blue-tinted light gives her hair and face strange accents as she looks at him, her eyes gleaming with reflected illumination.
"That's your name, right? I hope I didn't kidnap the wrong person."
The teenager doesn't stop rubbing his head. In fact, all he really does is shoot Riko a confused glance before taking in the surroundings. That mechanical panda in the background does a number on him, and with a candid scowl, he points a finger at the younger girl. "HEY. I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you just don't drag someone like me in here for some stupid..." He takes one quick look at the assorted porcelain cups, "...tea ceremony...?"
Well bub, she just did. And, even though he doesn't sound too bright at the moment, Tyler should recover in a moment, once he figures out just /why/ he was brought here, and then some. With a faint snerk, he waits for her to offer him some. After all, he's not a total idiot when it comes to stuff like social protocol. And right now? He just so happens to be her guest, and it goes without saying that a proper hostess would be doing the honors of pouring tea, making idle conversation, etc, etc. Which, she seems to be doing right now, on the strangest level he has ever experienced. "Anyway." Folding his skinny arms out in front of him with that perpetual glower, he adds, "Yeah, that's me. What's it to you, though....and why am I here?"
No doubt, he's confused.
But Riko is the very picture of composure. She meets his glare with an impassive gaze, unperturbed by his display of open hostility. Instead, she reaches for the teapot, grasping the finely carved wooden handle. She lifts it, holding it carefully. She fills the cup facing Reed, and then another nearer herself.
It isn't, notably, the prescribed fashion for an actual tea ceremony. It isn't a tea ceremony at all. Not in any real sense of the term. It's just... barely enough to give the appearance of it. A charade, an act. A facade.
Riko looks at Reed, apparently gauging his reaction.
Then, in a clear soprano, she repeats his question:
"Why am I here?"
She pauses, pursing her lip.
"That's a rather metaphysical question, isn't it?"
Meta---what? That's the first thought as he scoots closer, tilting his faux-hawked head to the side in an obvious wave of concentration. Such philosophy is beyond him --- after all, we're talking about a kid who never stepped into highschool. Reed's intellectual capabilities are saturated with history, literature, art, language, and the ever-satirical comedy of Voltaire. In sum, it's a different brand of philosophy. So instead of humoring Riko with an answer, the question is met with another inquiry of his, "And WHO are YOU?"
That said, he takes the small cup of tea that she poured for him, holding it firmly between his hands.
"Riko Koganei," she replies. It's a simple enough answer. And her real name. There's no need for deception, at least not in that. And really, Riko never lies. She just tells the truth in creative ways.
Truth can be more misleading than falsehood.
In any case, there is little value in her name. That of a minor fighter with a few public appearances. Known links to Seishirou Ryouhara - and a handful of other ninja who practice similar elements of style and wear similar insignia. But little more than that.
She regards Reed, tilting her own head to match his. She reaches to the table, lifting her own teacup. Sleeves slide over her skin with the soft whisper of silk.
Her eyes dart momentarily to the cup in /Reed's/ hand.
Watching. Wondering, perhaps, if he'll drink.
She doesn't seem to be making any move to drink her own tea.
A ninja, huh? Well that explains a lot. At least, that's what Reed /would/ think were he aware.
It appears that he isn't. Unlike Riko and her traditional kimono, Tyler's a poster child for an Hedi Slimane advertisement. If his monochromatic uniform didn't give one indication of that, at least. And said poster child brings the tea to his lips with a resounding *slurp*. His palate, given the circumstance, does little to note the bitter undertones of most asian teas, assuming that this is even green.
And you know, you still haven't answered my question. You seem to know who I am, but I have no idea why I'm here, in this..." He waves his hand to the side, referring to the room at large, "...totally whacked dojo." Is he even in Southtown right now? How is it that this place escaped him? The thought is truly disturbing. When Reed returned to Japan, he thought he had charted out the entire city. Apparently, his map is outdated.
Outdated? Perhaps.
Or more likely, it's that this place isn't on /any/ map. Given the way the air circulates, through what is obviously a ducted ventilation system, it seems likely that the chamber is underground. Deep underground. The heavy stone construction of the walls and floors seem to emphasize that. And what isn't stone is solid structural metal.
It's a remarkable complex - all the more so, since it was apparently hollowed out without anyone in the city noticing.
But then, Seishirou Ryouhara is quite possibly the world's leading master of Ninkoujutsu - Ninja Engineering Techniques. And Riko Koganei, his apprentice.
Riko smiles, again.
"We consider it an improvement over traditional dojos, really."
She stresses the plural in her statement. /We/.
"They're so flimsy. Can't stand up to serious combat."
Riko -still- isn't drinking from her own cup. It rests in her hands, steam rising.
Odd, that.
She just watches Reed with an unnerving amount of interest.
It's enough to make you think his tea was poisoned or something.
Can't be, though. Reed's likely no connoseur, but it tastes normal enough, a perfectly ordinary Japanese blend...
No, Reed's a connoisseur of a different kind. And it looks like Riko didn't stick around the museum long enough to see him in work, but that's sensible. She was smart enough to catch him at the right time, and that's pretty much all that matters.
...and, it would be rude not to accept the tea offering, poisoned or no. Reed figures that if she, or /they/, wanted him dead, he'd already be six-feet-under.
Or however far down they are at the moment.
And so! As our captive clears his throat, speculating, he adds, "Then it just isn't you. You have a roommate or somethin'?" Green eyes narrow at that, holding Riko's gaze for a heartbeat. Patience is not one of Reed's best virtues.
"Why am I here?" For the love of GOD! His dark brow starts to tic of its own accord.
For all things, there is a time and place. Riko observes the teenage thief. She smiles, gently, with a definite air of bemusement. "Because," Riko replies, coming to the heart of the matter, "/we/ wish to see what you can do."
Her smile grows. The blue light from above reflects off her teeth.
She moves her hands, moving the cup in her palms. Back and forth, to and fro, in a circular motion. Swirling the liquid within. Steam curls from it.
"We being myself...and Seishirou-sama."
Smile.
"Does that answer your question?"
She holds that expression for a heartbeat, a half-second. And then, without waiting for Reed to reply, she jerks her arm forward. Slinging the contents of the cup at the thief.
Scalding hot fluid arcs through the air.
But there's more to it than that.
There is, after all, a reason why Riko never drank from her own teacup. It wouldn't have tasted very good.
Mind, there was nothing wrong with the tea. The liquid Reed drank was from the same teapot. The difference was the teacup. Reed's was normal. Riko's... had an inner surface dusted liberally with salt. Which dissolved when she poured the tea.
Salt water is an electrical conductor.
Riko's chi is electric.
The liquid /glows/ as it flashes through the air. Blazing blue.
COMBATSYS: Riko has started a fight here.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Reed has joined the fight here.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Reed
COMBATSYS: Riko successfully hits Reed with Thrown Object.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
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Riko 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Reed
"Sei---what? Sushi roll?" Yep. That statue hit him just a wee bit TOO hard. And though he's hardly disoriented by now, those quick reflexes of his are on the ultimate low-down. Why? Well for one thing, it doesn't help that he dropped his guard just /seconds/ before that blast of blue inches its way to him
And the aftermath?
"GAHHH!!!" *ZZZZZZT*
Ooooooh. Oooh, now that, that wasn't something that he had expected. In an attempt to overturn the table just as chi-saturated liquid arcs in the air, Reed fails. But being fried by electricity is hardly something new to this boy. Just ask Elle or Alan.
Smoking cow-hide aside, Reed is found lying on his back, said conductivity doing more to his slight frame than his overall hair-do. It doesn't take long for him to drag himself back up, however, the plain shock in his gaze all-too apparent, and more-so by Riko's attack there than her sudden, and totally un-called for, maneuver.
But then again, it's not like he would be the respected guest here, for long.
And that...that seems to have answered his question completely. To which he responds with a sound kick in Riko's face, assuming it even hits.
COMBATSYS: Riko blocks Reed's Light Kick.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Reed
But she reacts. Instantly.
She was expecting retaliation, after all. And she had a shield readily at hand.
Her movement is razor-quick. She snaps out of seiza, erupting from the formal seated position. Swinging one foot, clad in a heavy in-line skate boot. Up and over. Smashing it into the low wooden tea-table resting between her and Reed. The little piece of furniture is thrown upward, tray, teapot and all...into the path of Reed's kick. Wood and ceramic explodes in mid-air. A few stray fragments smash into Riko, drawing a thin line across her cheek, slashing a couple of tears in her kimono. But if there's pain, she ignores it.
Before the debris hits the ground, she moves. Again. One hand grabbing a broken chunk of tea-table wood, snatching it right out of the air.
And swinging it at Reed.
COMBATSYS: Riko successfully hits Reed with Improvised Tactics.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0 Reed
She...she certainly wastes no time. Wood and ceramic rained upon, Tyler skids back with a frown, but isn't particularly quick enough to dodge that piece of wood as it's swung at him. With an OOMPH, he's struck at again, and tossed to the other side of the dojo. And when he's up? The side of his face is covered in scarlet, but he seems to pay the injury no mind. "Well, well, well." A passing smirk is offered in response, and without further ado, he picks up one of the long wooden shards that have busted from the table. Twirling it in one hand, he stretches his arm out to point at Riko, "Come on, then. Let's see what else you've got."
COMBATSYS: Reed gains composure.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Reed
Riko's holding her own chunk of table. A rather blockier and more angular piece than Reed's, though with a sufficiently jagged end. She already hit Reed with it once - the sharp edge is stained with blood. And as she faces him, she spins it in her fingers.
The girl angles her head to one side, looking at Reed. Regarding him carefully.
"Improvised weapon," she says, "smart. Good."
She means it. That's something she can /respect/. Riko gives a slight nod, one of faint approval.
Of course...
"But," she says, impishly, "how do you know the wood isn't booby-trapped?"
With that little question - she lunges forward. The fabric of her kimono billowing out behind her. In-line skates meet the chamber floor, wheels rolling. Driving her own section of table towards Reed's midsection. Fast.
COMBATSYS: Reed interrupts Weapon Jab from Riko with Battere il suolo.
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Riko 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Reed
Oh, that Riko. Booby-trapped? The mere suggestion brings out a bark of laughter from the taller of the two, though his own amusement is not so much of a distraction, that he can't bring /it/ to the table.
And by it? We mean this.
The blunted edge of his sturdy woodshard comes down upon the dojo floor in a *CRACK*. His booted foot, a mere blur, lashes out like a whip towards the girl's head. But that doesn't mean that he doesn't get struck --- a few splinters from her own jagged shard impacts him in the process, and as he's airborne, there's nothing much he can do about it.
Both feet plant up against the wall behind Riko as he lands, and he uses it as a prop to buttress himself before skidding down towards the floor. "Just who are you to be judging me, anyway?" Her evaluation of him gives him much room to consider. This...this is no ordinary girl. In-line skates and all.
"Me?"
Riko isn't looking at Reed. Because she's currently spawled on the ground. That last kick snapped her head back, so painfully you could almost hear the bones go crack. But her spine seems to be intact. She's still breathing, still talking, still moving.
That blow -must- have hurt. By all rights, she should have some indication of it. But no, there's no sign. None whatsoever. She just hops to her feet, the wheels of her skates making contact, once again, with the dojo floor. She idly lifts one hand to her shoulder, brushing off dust or lint. A theatrical gesture, it must be - she can't really be concerned about the kimono's appearance, not with the distinct battle damage already on it.
"I'm just the student," she says, "it's the master you need to worry about."
She smiles.
The wheels of her skates /spin/. So fast that they draw sparks. She races across the surface of the chamber, over stone and metal. On a straight line at Reed, accelerating mercilessly like a human rocket. With her fragment of tea-table as the tip of the arrow.
COMBATSYS: Reed interrupts One Hit Wonder EX from Riko with Splitz Overkill.
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Riko 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1 Reed
Yeah you. Silly girl. Trix are for...
Kids. Which she is, by definition. Damn tricky --- like all ninjas.
Spinning skates and all, Reed is met by alleged human bullet as that extemporized arrow heads straight for him. And at that last split-second when Riko dives in, the teen barely manages to shield himself from all of the painful damage...elongated leg splitting upwards in a burst of concussive green.
His line is impeccable, there's no doubt about that. But will it kill her off? Of course it won't. It might hurt a bit, or she just may be able to shake it off. But this fight is far from over.
"Ergh." With his leg still up in the air, he shoots Riko a wayward glance. "HEY NOW. You listen to me. If you want me for a job, we can always discuss the particulars like civilzed people."
He's not including normal in there as an adjective. Because quite frankly, anyone from around here is quite crazy...take him, for example.
An upward, rising burst of chi.
It's the second time he's met an attack of hers with one of his own - almost in the same instant. His reaction time is fast, and his capability to adapt and improvise...really quite remarkable. Even for a fighter.
All that flashes through Riko's mind in an instant, a tactical analysis which, to her, is as natural as breathing. The process almost subconscious.
Which is just as well, because it's hard to concentrate when you've just taken a chi blast full-on, and are now flying upwards towards the ceiling.
At the very last moment, before she smashes into the solid surface...Riko flips round. There's a solid sound as she makes contact against one of the riveted metal plates.
She stays there, hanging upside down, as if magnetized.
"Oh," Riko says, "there might be money in this, for you. But I wouldn't think -job-, precisely."
A faint crackle of electric blue dances round her skates, and through the plate she's clinging to.
COMBATSYS: Riko gathers her will.
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Riko 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\1 Reed
Where...where did she go? Oh there, she is.
Slamming his wood-shard down against the floor in a single motion, Reed looks up to find Riko hanging down from the ceiling. "Is that so...?" Mmmmmmmm. MONEY. Really, a good martial artist shouldn't be thinking of such things. Most respectable fighters, professional or non, have a tendency to focus on their training regiment more than anything --- but then again, Tyler's not what you would consider 'conventional' in the fighting realm.
And one has to wonder, did Riko bring in someone good for her squad, presuming there even is one, other than that Seishirou guy. To whom Reed will refer to as 'sushi roll,' for now.
"Well, HELL!" Grinning from ear to ear, he adds, "Why didn't you say so in the first place?"
Making him sit through that traditional tea-session and all. Hmmph.
COMBATSYS: Reed focuses on his next action.
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Riko 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\1 Reed
"Well," Riko replies, "mind, that's not guaranteed. Seishirou-sama still needs to decide if you're good enough."
She smiles, once more. Which looks distinctly odd, since she's hanging inverted from the ceiling, her hair, sleeves, and trailing edges of kimono fabric going completely the wrong way.
"With that in mind..."
Riko drops.
Falling foot-first towards Reed, one heavy skate heel flashing for his head.
COMBATSYS: Reed endures Riko's Light Kick.
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Riko 1/------=/=======|=======\=------\1 Reed
Today, Reed has taken more than enough kicks to the 'noggin, and it's not helping him in the respect of tactical advancements and the like. That kick comes down on his head like an ax, and with a "ffff.....cck....." he's taken down quite soundly. As his dark-clad body slices the air and lands back up against the other side of the wall again (light-weight), the kid picks himself back up to stare the /other/ kid down, gloved hands still gripping his "staff."
But! Unlike Riko, Tyler was never an analytical figher per se; but then again, he was never the kind of guy to depend on emotion alone, either.
It's just that he has a tendency to rush into things, and it's pretty obvious by now that this teen is the kind of fighter to trust his instinct. And his instinct tells him to do this:
Sprinting into a quick run (though not as quick as Riko, considering the fact that he's at a disadvantage to her in-line skates), he thrusts his table shard out and whips it around like revolving fantails. Except, that this fantail just so happens to kick-up all of the debris around here --- sucking it straight into the center.
And Riko...well. She just better get out of the way.
COMBATSYS: Reed successfully hits Riko with Don Quixote.
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Riko 1/---====/=======|=------\-------\0 Reed
Like Don Quixote. Tilting at windmills.
Unfortunately, Riko's a lot less sturdy than your average windmill.
Lighter too.
The length of wood smashes into the girl - along with a fair cross-section of broken ceramic, the remnants of that nice tea-service set. Oh, and what was once a tray. That too. An awful lot of shards and splinters. When Riko bounces to a halt at the far end of the assault, it's like she's gone through an explosion in the kitchenware section of a department store. Her kimono is quite completely shredded, leaving just bloody wisps of silk. Thankfully for modesty, it looks like she's wearing her usual t-shirt and shorts underneath.
Because really, that costume was just part of the theatrics. Theatrics are useful, when they serve a purpose. Confusion, misdirection.
Riko's eyes narrow, as she pushes herself up on one knee.
And this Reed has shown himself...fairly good at dealing with direct assaults. Giving back in kind.
"Excellent, Mister Reed," Riko says, simply.
But...
...how about this?
Riko's hands blur through a quick series of hand seals. Then she terminates the sequence, slamming one palm into the floor of the dojo chamber. A blow so hard it rings against the metal like a sounding bell.
Earlier, moments ago, Riko clung to the ceiling. And when she did, with magnetized skates, she sent a powerful pulse of chi from her body into said ceiling. And the walls. And floor.
Now that energy, focused and magnified, releases. In a series of lightning bolts that arc towards Reed from the very room itself, a cascade of deadly blue.
COMBATSYS: Reed parries Riko's Level 360 EX!
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Riko 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Reed
How about....wuh??
The seals. The sequence. The goddamn room! Eyes widen at the sudden wave of energy, imbuing the walls with blue. And this, this isn't good.
But it's a very good thing that Cecchetti made him take those extra acrobatic classes for cross-training. Once he realizes just how much trouble he's in, Reed sets his makeshift weapon against the metal floor. Then, like a gymnast, he hoists himself up with much effort, balancing on the shard precariously with his palm grasped over the hilt, body fairly vertical to the wooden leg that seems to prop him up. And because it's wood against metal, Riko's pulsating chi does very little to permate him, and it isn't /that/ which causes him to topple.
No, it's the first series of arcs that collide with his shard, nearly deposing him, had he not pushed up and away. Lightning sizzles and busts the shard beneath him into myriad particles, and as he's airborne, one bolt manages to whiz right by and TOAST the sleeve of his jacket. That leaves him with quite a few painful burns in the end (and sleeveless, too!), but the resounding lights continue their course, and the attack is far from done. With a loud "AAAAACK," he hops, backflips and dodges in circles across the room like a maniac, speeding AWAY from the blue with all good sense. And when it's over, he pants, looking somewhat crazed, running his hand through his messy hair like always. Jesus. That was close.
COMBATSYS: Reed gains composure.
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Riko 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Reed
"Agile," Riko remarks, cocking her head to one side. She's still crouched, her hand still pressed to the floor of the chamber. Now she rises, regarding Reed carefully. That -was- a remarkable display. Well and truly.
She applaudes. Or at least, she gives one single clap.
Before she moves, blasting forward, her skate wheels throwing up a spray of dust and debris as she darts towards Reed. Racing up before pivoting in a kick to his chin - hopefully before he regains his equilibrum.
COMBATSYS: Reed endures Riko's Light Kick.
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Riko 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Reed
Reed doesn't regain his equilibrium in time. He's just not /that/ good.
And he's rankled. Rankled! So Riko busts in with her kick and knocks him back square --- right in the jaw. He's sent back none-too-lightly with a crash, and for a second, it appears as though he's about to lie there, if only to catch his breath. Then...then he drags his skinny ass back up, and comes at her with a kick as well. Although, this one's not so light.
% R
COMBATSYS: Riko interrupts Strong Kick from Reed with Metamysticparallectrolysis EX.
- Power hit! -
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Riko 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Reed
Riko watches Reed as he bounces back, and retaliates with a blow of his own. She watches him come, unpeturbed, unworried.
"The thing is, Mister Reed..."
Her eyes track his movements. Gauging his mass, velocity, power.
Not light indeed.
Contact.
Riko feels it. She does. Her muscles strain - having intercepted the kick at least partially, with her arms and hands. Catching the kick like that...it hurt. But not as much as it hurts Reed. With his leg in Riko's grasp, it's hard for him to get free. For at least a heartbeat, he's right where Riko wants him.
Right in position for -another- electrical discharge, scorching from the wall behind him, a fork of retina-searing blue.
"...doesn't matter how fast you are."
Not as much as it hurts Reed, indeed! Because the amount of pain he's getting from that electrical discharge is enough to keep his mouth closed for weeks. And when he's in pain----truly in pain, he has a tendency to clamp them shut.
His leg is brought forth, and held hostage by the /younger/ Riko, the teen does naught but stand, vaguely watching that surge of electricity swamp him before he's sizzled yet AGAIN.
And he...he's just wanting to get out of this place.
"Oh?" Bringing his finger up in a daze, he pulls his leg back from Riko and starts to stumble towards her; energy sapped, for the most part. "That's nice."
Clearly, he's smoked. Now...about that job...."
Once that's out, he trips and slams down ram-rod into the ground.
COMBATSYS: Reed takes no action.
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Riko 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Reed
Riko rolls over to Reed's side.
She peers at the fallen thief. She blinks a couple of times, and then replies, in a deceptively friendly voice, "It's not really a -job-, per-se. In the next week or so, you'll be receiving an invitation to a rather exclusive fighting event."
She bends over, her voice dropping slightly.
"I think you'll find the financial reward for good performance...quite appealing."
As she says this, she lifts one skate.
"That's the future, though. Right now...well, thing is, this is a secure location. And you're very good at getting into and out of places like that."
Downward, a falling hammer. Wheels, heel plate, and foot - all crashing towards Reed's skull.
"So think of this as a last complement..."
COMBATSYS: Reed blocks Riko's Light Kick.
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Riko 0/-------/---====|=======\-------\0 Reed
With that pointed finger still poised along the side of his head, he sure looks like an idiot. Cracking a lazy eye open to regard the ninja girl, Reed brings his hand out to shove her skated foot away --- it seems he's just not in the mood for another head-bashing.
With a derisive snort, he reaches into his ruined leather jacket and pulls out his trusty measuring tape. All good for gauging doorways, rooms and the like to haul both equipment and stolen goods should the occasion arise. And at the moment, it appears it's good enough to chuck Riko in the head with. At least, that's what his distorted logic is telling him.
So without answering, the kid simply charges the metal casing with green, its flames a blur as the object is hurled. Right for the girl's solar plexus.
Then...then he takes a wonderful nap.
COMBATSYS: Reed can no longer fight.
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Riko 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Riko endures Reed's Fuoco Greco.
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Riko 0/-------/--=====|
She makes absolutely no attempt to dodge.
The heavy steel measuring tape slams like a gunshot into Riko's torso. No, more - for a projectile hurled by a fighter, accelerated and enhanced by chi, has to be greater than any firearm.
But she barely flinches, doesn't even seem to notice.
She snakes an arm out, catches the tape before it bounces and hits the ground. Her fingers close around the surface, wisps of green chi rising, dissipating, round Riko's hand.
The little ninja girl holds up the measuring tape, examining it critically.
Then she laughs, a clear and genuine sound.
Improvisation. Oh yes, -very- nice. She likes this guy, she does.
Then, carefully replacing the tape in the ruins of Reed's jacket, she sets about the business of dragging him from the dojo, to the tunnels beyond...and out, eventually, into the forest, the woods surrounding Southtown.
She'll have to find a nice tree to leave him under. In case it rains.
Probably leave some money too, Riko muses, as she drags Reed by the ankles. Hospital bills or something. Payment for his ruined jacket, at least.
Least she can do, really. Besides, not like it'll cost her that much. The money's stolen anyway.
And this Reed guy, he'll probably have fewer moral objections to that than most.
Yeap. Cool guy.
COMBATSYS: Riko has ended the fight here.
Log created on 13:00:29 07/29/2007 by Riko, and last modified on 18:03:41 08/01/2007.