Description: [Arika vs. Marisol] It's a horrid night to be above deck. Stormy, shrieking gale-force winds blasting their fury on any stupid enough to out here. Rain falling in sheets so thick you can barely see more than a foot in front of you. The type of night any sane person would be inside, snuggled warmly in their bed... but no! Ninjas are never sane! That's why there is a fight going on high above the deck. Two completely drenched females dangling from the masts. Will Arika and Marisol manage this fight without one or the other of them plummeting to their deaths? [Winner: Arika]
It's cold. It's wet. It's dark, and there is not sign of reprieve in sight.
Marisol swears this storm will be the death of her.
Really; the half-Spaniard girl did not expect to go this way - especially not on a godforsaken ship. And ESPECIALLY not in the damn ship rigging and not a night like this. There's a storm - who is dumb enough to let a fight like this happen? Clearly the ninja are to blame, and someone amongst their planners has a sick sense of humor, and the redhead sure isn't laughing.
In any case, Marisol has never been one to forfeit. If anything, she considers the awful weather and precarious footing a challenge, something to help her improve her skill while pushing her to some pretty damn scary limits. So there she remains, high above the deck of the Suiryuu, lingering like a specter in the rigging on one of the long masts stretched wide across the width of the ship far below.
But not as brave as she'd like to be.
For now, the girl hugs the main mast, clutching to it as the ship itself rocks against a particularly nasty wave that crashes into the side of the ship. Hanging on for dear life, the girl pinches her eyes shut, red hair pinned to her skull and drenched with water.
Challenge or no, this shit is scary. "Why me?" she complains, hesitant to peel herself off the mast. "Why me??"
Clearly the half-Spaniard girl wasn't involved with the Shadaloo capers in Thailand.
Despite the chilling weather, and the gale-force fury slamming waves against the sides of the boat causing it to rock back and forth with no particular pattern, the punk rock princess is out on the deck. Not just -on- the deck either, but up.... waaaaaaaay up on the ships rigging.
However, Arika is not hugging the mast. Nor is she looking very specter like, even though she's fairly pale against the dark colors she wears as well as the night sky. Already drenched thanks to the downpour, her clothing clings to her body. Stray strands of hair stick to the sides of her face, and she releases one hand from the material that she has been clutching so that she can pry it off.
The hand then slides down to the belt around her waist and across her hips to the shiny metallic loop at the back. A quick tug is given as she ensures that the safety rope she thought to hook up earlier is secure and then she glances over at her opponent.
Marisol may be lamenting about this fight, but she's never fought in this sort of weather before. Rest assured, at least Arika isn't about to try and -drown- her opponent. As memories of Thailand surface in her thoughts, the diva shivers slightly and mutters, "We fought together befor' against Geese 'oward. You can do -that-, you can do this." Pausing, she softens her voice a little, attempting to put the other girl at ease. "We work together, we can both make it outta this storm, alright?"
This is unlike many of the fights she's had thus far. What's worse, the redhead does not particularly like being on a ship - especially not in the wake of such a wicked storm. And just when she was actually starting to get comfortable with the rock and sway of the ship, too. Part of her is a bit upset at this sudden and swift turn of events. Another part of her suspects this is just the beginning of a long, very strange tournament.
Eventually, Marisol manages to peel herself off, long arms shaking out at her sides as she moves. Smoky gray eyes drift toward the rigging under her feet, and the distance below noted. That...is a long way to fall. She won't think about that; instead, the girl exhales raggedly, a bit nervous as she grabs the hem of her deep green tanktop.
"Maaaan," she groans, observing how utterly soaked the top has become - along with her shorts. "How are we expected to fight in the rain with clothes that'll just weigh us down, anyway?" Those gray eyes stir, slowly drifting along the length of the sturdy rigging and peering toward the songstress. Wait a minute...
"You're tied up?" she asks, sounding sincerely curious...before she lightly slaps her palm's heel to her forehead. "Why didn't I think to do that?" She should have thought this over a lot better than she did. Boy is she kicking herself in the ass. A lot.
However, when Arika speaks up, particularly about their past fight, she offers a mildly bemused expression in response. "Geese...Oh. Oh! Yes." Nodding once, full lips pull into a wide grin across her face, her confidence renewed. If she continues to distract herself, she'll forget all about the deck of the Suiryuu WAY below, glaring up at her with morbid promise, should she be careless.
A hand moves, a thumb jerking to her chest.
"I warn you," she says, still grinning confidently. "I'm not going to go easy on you. But I just hope you don't have any plans of doin' the same." Sparing a glance toward the distant, dark horizon and its roiling, angry sky, Marisol purses her lips thoughtfully before she turns her attention back onto Arika.
"Ready when you are!"
COMBATSYS: Marisol has started a fight here.
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Marisol 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Arika has joined the fight here.
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Arika 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Marisol
COMBATSYS: Marisol takes no action.
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Arika 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Marisol
A long, very strange tournament?
You don't say (or think as the case may be!).
Whatever this Jinchuu tournament turns out to be, hopefully the punk rock princess can (and possibly -will-) prove just exactly what's going on here. So, why the Scooby-Doo hijinks and mystery? When one is kidnapped, drugged, forced to fight for her freedom and then dumped in the woods with an envelope filled with cash, one tends to have questions.
Questions which as of yet haven't been answered.
"Could take'em off," Arika replies to the first question, though she's quick to add, "Wouldn't suggest -that- though, since you'd likely freeze to death befor' you managed to get a punch in." To the second, her only response is a sly little grin as she lets go of the the portion of sail she was holding. Once she starts to dangle, she says, "Look, ma, no 'ands!" (Really, it couldn't be helped. The moment was just too perfect.)
All kidding aside, she dips her head in a nod. "Don't worry, mate. Ain't gonna go easy on ya, but let's just try not to drown each other, alright? We make it down to the deck, ain't no one goin' overboard. You agree to that, I agree to give you a fight to remember."
With the last words leaving her lips, the drowned-rat diva fixes her attention on her opponent and swings herself back to small portion of rigging she was using as a foothold. Her right hand comes back ever-so-slightly as she prepares to make the first move. Then she's swinging it forward toward Marisol's chin with a quick jab. The wind whips past and carries her forward with the motion, and as she draws her right hand back the left makes an attempt to slam into the girl's chest and send her back a few steps. Once her arm reaches full extension, however, a distinct glow of bright violet energy flares up around it, causing the night sky to light up almost eerily and giving a little added 'oomph' to the attack.
COMBATSYS: Arika successfully hits Marisol with Diva Allegro.
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Arika 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Marisol
Whatever the intentions of the conspiring ninja involved, Marisol remains particularly apathetic toward their cause. What she doesn't know doesn't concern her, right? As long as she doesn't DIE, well...she won't have any problems. Unless they make it her problem. Or something. She'll figure out the complications later. For now, she has to focus on the fight.
The response given by Arika earns her a strange look before she smirks, hooding her gray depths with an obvious look of amusement. "Nah, I leave the nude-fighting to my friend Pas," she assures, her chin lifting a touch as her smile widens. "No worries - I plan on keeping my clothes ON." The confidence falters as the singer lets go, letting herself dangle freely, thanks to her support line.
BOY she's kicking herself in the ass. That was a really good idea.
"No drowning, I promise," she assures, tipping her head in a light nod, her smile returning in full force. "I just hope I don't fall off and end this with an untimely death. Ah ha ha ha!" Nervous laughter, if ever there was any.
But then Arika moves, giving her reason forget all her mortal worries. Her attack comes, and Marisol attempts to otherwise intercept the first blow. ..but a sudden slip of her footing gives her reason to worry and, as result, the attack lands solidly, causing Marisol to stagger back a few steps. She frowns, shaking her hand a bit. Stupid rigging. Stupid rain.
"Okay, bad start," she remarks. With that fresh in mind, Marisol charges into Arika, a fist coiled at her side. Only when she nears does she swing it, to belt the girl fiercely in the stomach. Should the blow strike true, she'll grab at her by her head, to introduce her face to Marisol's bony knee, before kicking her with the same leg in the jaw with the sole of her foot, a fierce vertical kick to seal the deal.
COMBATSYS: Arika dodges Marisol's Chain Reaction.
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Arika 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Marisol
"Heh."
That's about all the response Arika can afford to give before her attack lands. Once it does, she begins to swing herself back to her foothold, but Marisol is already moving in. Difficult to judge the movements -exactly- thanks to the downpour that's kind of giving her distorted vision (thanks to the rain itself -and- the droplets that cling to her lashes). A good boxer can judge a punch though, and when she realizes that one is coming in toward her, she swings back toward the mast and then around to the side. Good way to avoid whatever was intended -after- that heavy punch, and a great way to keep her face looking just as great as she normally likes it to.
Drake would be proud.
... Well he would be if he were aboard, anyhow.
A second is taken to wipe the water from her eyes and brush slicked hair back from her brow before she let's go of her hold again and swings her entire body in toward her opponent. From here, she could be preparing to do -anything-, but it looks like she's just trying to swing by for now. Just as she comes to where she can pass by Marisol, she twists sideways and attempts to jab her elbow against the girl's chin. Nothing extremely hard, since she's not quite got the hang of these aerial acrobatics yet, but at least she's got a rope to 'practice' with.
Too bad she didn't think about building a safety net below for them.
COMBATSYS: Marisol endures Arika's Jab Punch.
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Arika 0/-------/------=|===----\-------\0 Marisol
The initial strike avoided, it draws the tiniest of smirks across the redhead's lips. She's fast - that could prove troublesome. Or possibly entertaining. Thus does Marisol refrain from following the last two strikes; instead she simply retreats, stepping back three paces before she holds her ground. Glancing toward the rigging, she purses her lips and furrows her brows.
Steady, steady. She won't lose her balance.
"This is quite a pain in the ass," the redhead comments, letting her full lips ease into a smirk of amusement as she regards the British girl. "I'm just hoping whatever comes next doesn't involve more wacky venues such as this." Exhaling in mild annoyance, the half-Spaniard tosses her head to one side, her wet hair struggling to move with the rest of her head.
Even as Arika comes charging, she does not move. She continues to hold her ground, even as her elbow bites into her jaw. The redhead flinches only slightly, but offers a broad grin thereafter.
Twisting her form, Marisol follows pursuit of Arika, her knuckles tight as she coils her fist, before delivering toward the songstress a swift blow aimed for her jaw in kind. "Head's up!"
COMBATSYS: Arika blocks Marisol's Medium Punch.
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Arika 0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0 Marisol
"Heh."
Wow, seems like Arika is just full of conversation tonight. Then again, fighting in the middle of a raging storm, where lighting can strike your fighting ground at any time -might- just have something to do with that.
If she spies Riko, she's going to give that little poppet a piece of her mind. Probably accompanied by a swift punch.
Or two.
Or three...
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she manages to quip, "Listen, mate. You ever see one'a those reality shows? They'll likely 'ave you eatin' scorpions or worse next. Possibly leave us stranded on an island and tell us the one that survives a year there'll be the winner." Yes, she's still positive that this is a ship run by insanely crazy cultists. No one will be able to deter her from thinking that.
Delivering the final word, the punk princess manages to get her left arm up in time to block the blow, but the force behind it causes her to lose her footing. A grunt is issued as she dangles there, struggling to find a place for her feet to rest. The very second her left foot finds a hold she uses it to spring herself off and spin about on her rope. This time she's got no intention of fancy tricks. Unfurling from her spin, she sends her right foot out with a sideways snap kick aimed for Marisol's chest.
COMBATSYS: Marisol fails to interrupt Light Kick from Arika with Iron Butterfly.
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Arika 0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0 Marisol
It's a pity, too! Marisol would rather like some conversation - it helps her keep her mind off of the ground far below, and the idea of falling onto it in a nice, meaty splatter. Her head shakes softly, wet locks still struggling as they cling to her bare shoulders. "No time to think ‘bout that," she assures herself. But she can't help it.
And it's irritating her.
It fades as Arika speaks up, eyes widening slightly before she sports a wry smirk, eyes narrowing in delight. "I'd rather do that than this. At least that seems more fun. I can handle that. Heights is a whole ‘nother story!" The smirk lingers, even as Arika makes her move, however "clumsy" its execution may be. But it's precisely that which throws the girl off.
Though Marisol attempts to intercept her foot with a glowing hand, her kick lands solidly, causing the girl to stagger back, grunting and idly rubbing at her chest. Another miscalculation, clearly. She's really not on her a-game lately. What's WRONG with her, anyway?
He doesn't like this goddamn boat. Not one bit.
When there's a place that can put Ryuji Yamazaki's nerves on edge.. it's a careful eye that the superyacht is given as he strides onto the main deck, and the hand in his right pocket has a firm grip on the switchblade as he paces from one side of the ship to another. His brow is furrowed just slightly, and a frown is visible across his face as he follows that slow lap all the way around the deck, finally ending him up somewhere in the close vicinity of directly below the fight that's going on far, far above. The sound of faint voices over his head brings a slow step, then a complete stop in Yamazaki's stride, eventually bringing his eyes up, up, and up some more. ".. the hell?" He squints slightly, then peers up above. ... yes, there're a couple people fighting up there. "Goddamn retarded idea if I've ever seen one. The hell are those idiots thinking.."
What's wrong with Marisol?
Beyond the fact that she agreed to board the ship of her own free will and -then- further agreed to this fight that looks not unlike a cruddy B-grade movie with poor costuming?
(Shouldn't they have at -least- been given rain slickers, or pirate gear and rubber cutlasses?)
The answer to Marisol's thought out question is just this: nothing. Nothing is wrong with her, since let's face it... people can't really -be- on their a-game when dangling so high up above ground level, with thoughts of becoming meat pancakes, or joining Davy Jone's Locker flittering through their head.
"'eights ain't me fave either, but we really ain't got a choice unless you intend on shinnying down the mast and waitin' for me down below." Which, so far as she knows, would technically cancel out this oh-so-wonderful fight in the rain.
During this, Arika has situated herself back where she has solid footing. A moment is taken to catch her breath and again wipe water from her face. It does help to see after all! But since she's got her feet firmly planted, she can do more than swing about up above. Bouncing from one foot to the other, she attempts to pick up a quick rhythm that's not going to see her slip or fall. Each hop from left to right is carefully calculated so that she doesn't wind up on her rear, or flying through the heavy winds. Swinging her body off of her perch in a full pirouette, she draws her right leg up vertically. As she passes by Marisol, she rotates the leg at the hip and then snaps the instep of her foot out toward the girl's torso in an attempt to unbalance her.
And had she actually -heard- the voice from down below, the punk princess would be heartily agreeing with it. What -were- the idiots thinking to have two young girls fight up so high and potentially plummet to their deaths way before their time?
COMBATSYS: Marisol blocks Arika's Rhythmic Roundhouse.
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Arika 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Marisol
The rational part of Marisol knows well there's nothing wrong with her, really. It's frustration, coupled with ridiculous expectations of the fight coordinators to honestly believe two particularly young women to fight their best in the worst storm ever. At least in Marisol's opinion. The lightning strikes that occasionally rip the sky asunder don't help ease her.
She'll continue to distract herself and try to focus, it's the least she can do.
"Heh, I have no intention of getting down just yet." She doesn't want to lose, however awful these odds appear for her. She can't let her teammates pass her up, can she? Grinning broadly, she lets her anxieties fade, in favor of a sense of humor. "And I don't expect you to want to do the same."
It becomes obvious when Arika makes her move, a fancy hop and pirouette that ultimately ends with her attempting to knock the girl off her balance. But Marisol twists her arms and intercepts the incoming foot at its ankle, before twisting her hand and cupping her calve in hand firmly. Thereafter, she guides Arika's leg aside, while pushing off her feet and giving a quick hop back, distancing herself from the singer.
"So you're a Brit too, eh?" she remarks, hands clenching and unfurling at her sides as she just makes idle conversation with the other girl. "My teammate's from England himself. You can't miss him if you're a fighter. Tall, huge, has a bad mouth. I'm sure you know who I'm talking about. He's a real dork." The small talk is not for the sake of conversation, however. It gives Marisol a chance to watch Arika, looking for the slightest opening.
COMBATSYS: Marisol focuses on her next action.
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Arika 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Marisol
Anxieties are really going to be the least of their worries, aren't they? Arika's own anxieties are why she's bothered to attack herself to the mast at all, though as she finds her footing again, she happens to look down.
An acute case of vertigo kicks in, and she begins to mentally curse herself at not rigging up a net down below their forced fighting grounds. Worrying about the climb up here was enough to distract her from thoughts of the last circus she happened to see, so it's no wonder why she wasn't thinking like the Amazing-whatever's.
"Preston Alistair Wellington the third, I presume?" Trying to fight off the dizzy feeling, she reaches back behind her to take hold of the mast again. "'ad the pleasure of meetin' 'im once or twice. 'elluva fighter." Good advice giver too, even though it wasn't something Arika could ever follow if she was going to allow herself to -ever- really trust someone.
"So, wot gave it away? The accent, or the daybill with my information on it?" A little British circus humor, that. At least, the daybill part was though she's not expecting her opponent to 'get' it at all. The small tidbit of conversation is enough for her to let the sensations of light-headedness fade and she watches Marisol watching her.
Then she makes a leap.
Thankfully the rope is secure and she doesn't go crashing down to the deck, but she does nearly fly toward Marisol with the intent of grabbing her and throwing her against the mast. At least there looks to be a platform there, so that if she manages this and the girl -does- fall, it's not going to be to her death.
COMBATSYS: Marisol dodges Arika's Quick Throw.
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Arika 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Marisol
So the two have more alike here than Marisol would be aware of. They're both uneasy about fighting in the pouring rain on such a precarious perch. They're not ninjas, unlike the crew of the Suiryuu. This might be a cakewalk for them, but for the two fighters currently duking it out? Not so much. At least not Marisol. She's not sure about Arika's thoughts on the matter. She doesn't want to ask, either.
They're both trying to distract themselves from the ground below!
"Second," the girl is swift to correct, her lips pulling into an easy smirk. "And he's okay, yeah. He just has a bad mouth, the idiot." Pausing, Marisol lifts a hand, running the palm of it over her wet face, trying to wipe the water from her eyes before she shifts her weight and smiles all the more. "And what gave it away? Well, the accent, really." The daybill flies over her head, sadly.
Like Arika, when she makes her move, leaping for the girl.
Ducking and weaving aside, those grabbing hands grope empty air. There'll be no mast-pinning for now. But Marisol does not falter - she moves swiftly after, in fact, a fist raised, to belt the girl savagely across the face, should Arika not be swift..!
COMBATSYS: Marisol successfully hits Arika with Red Clover.
- Power hit! -
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Arika 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Marisol
Success.
The blow lands, a solid crack erupting between the two. But it does not simply end there - oh no. Marisol is swift to move once more, the opposite hand swinging forward, to plant a fierce blow to her stomach. Still not about to soften up, Marisol's eyes go wide, gray depths focused entirely on Arika as she swings both fists, a solid one-two attack that concludes with a sudden burst of dandelion yellow chi, lighting up the sails of the ship and the darkness around the two.
But where Arika would normally fly toward the side and possibly off the rigging itself, Marisol is quick to snake a hand out, long fingers clamping down on her arm and seizing her before she tugs, to bring her back. Only when she's stable will the girl pace back, nodding her head once with a slight grin.
"Sorry ‘bout that."
Second, third... who's counting? For that matter, who cares? Arika may have been brought up in a fairly well-to-do family, but she's never been one for utter snobbery or titles. The correction is therefore met with a shrug of the shoulders as she flies over her opponent. Before she's able to land though, there's a fist flying toward her face. An attempt is made to block it, but rain slickened arms slip apart and the fist cracks against her jaw with a sickening sound.
Or that could have just been the thunder.
Sadly, Arika is no stranger to savage punches, and so as Marisol continues with a second blow, she's already wiping the trickling blood from the corner of her lip. The stomac punch sends her flying, and the bursting yellow chi nearly blinds her but she's quick to squeeze her eyes shut and flail around until she feels something beneath her feet again.
Apology goes unheard (or at least ignored for now, since the diva is fairly certain that the girl isn't really all -that- sorry), and she makes a tentative move forward. Feet slid along the rigging until she moves a few steps and regains her confidence in where she is. Eyes open up, and then she does what any self-respecting brawler-type might. She swings both arms in for a double-fisted haymaker.
COMBATSYS: Marisol blocks Arika's Medium Punch.
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Arika 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Marisol
The barrage is over as quickly as it began, leaving poor Arika bleeding from the corner of her lip. Though her apologies go unheard by the singer, it remains difficult to discern whether or not it's sincere. It may very well be! Marisol is a nice person. Sort of. Just don't ask any of her teammates. Or her rival team's members. Or anyone at Pacific High.
Well, anyone, really.
But that is behind her when Arika regains her footing and secures herself. Smiling faintly, she watches as the blonde swing at her with a mighty haymaker. In response the redhead swiftly lifts her arms, intercepting the blow as Arika's attack careens off her slick arms, lightly jarring Marisol. However, the moment her arms take leave of Marisol's she moves, a fist swinging to lightly kiss Arika's jaw with the knuckles of her fist!
COMBATSYS: Marisol successfully hits Arika with Light Punch.
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Arika 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Marisol
Knuckle kisses are something the diva can do without. Arika attempts to dodge out of the way, but her foot gets caught up in the length of rope that is keeping her in place up above the ship during the storm. As she trips up, she lands herself right into the fist-kiss and manages to trickle the minutest amount of blood onto Marisol's fist. Luckily, the wind and rain will quickly take care of the gross-factor that is someone else's blood on your fist.
Bringing her thumb up to her lip, Arika wipes the additional blood away and then turns to shoot a look at Marisol. Okay, enough with the face punching. The diva swings around, and attempts to return the abuse by slamming the tip of her foot right up against her opponent's jaw. Nothing to savage or evil, but enough to make her point (she hopes!).
COMBATSYS: Arika successfully hits Marisol with Light Kick.
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Arika 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Marisol
The longer the two fight, the more Marisol begins to have doubts about actually kicking herself for not using a suspension rope. Poor Arika gets tangled up and, as result, the punch strikes, a smear of blood staining Marisol's knuckles briefly. Soon enough, however, the blood vanishes, thanks to the torrential downpour of a rain that stings and bites at the two fighters.
When Arika collects her wits and makes her move, Marisol holds her ground. Clearly, however, she underestimates the Briton diva and, as result, the kick to her face jars her a bit, causing her to stagger before she lifts a hand up and rubs her jaw. "Huh. ..heh," Grinning softly, those eyes hood.
And the ground beneath - what little there is - her erupts in a ring of fiery yellow energy.
"I think it's time to get a little serious, no?" she asks, lifting her hands from her side as the energy swells, hands curling into tight fists. "Don't get me wrong, though. You're pretty damn good. Must be a British thing."
COMBATSYS: Marisol gathers her will.
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Arika 1/-------/=======|=======\====---\1 Marisol
A little more serious? Only one way to do that, and Arika is -not- about to exercise the option which involves grabbing Marisol and tossing her from the boat. Though she's got the survival instincts to do it, she knows it'd disappoint the one person that means the most to her. So, she refrains from it for now.
But...
No one would be horribly disappointed if the diva tried to pick up her opponent and toss her down about halfway to the deck, right? The top of a netted web-style rope (sure, there's a name for it but the punk princess never said she was a sailor!) hangs about halfway down, and as Arika swings toward Marisol for the grapple attempt, she grins. Hands reach for shoulders, and her knee comes up slightly in the hopes of catching the other girl off her guard before making the toss.
COMBATSYS: Marisol endures Arika's Quick Throw.
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Arika 1/-------/=======|=======\======-\1 Marisol
As far as the half-Spaniard is concerned, as long as Arika has no plans of making Marisol fall to her death from high above the ship, or into the roaring seas below. They made a deal - she wagers Arika is woman enough to live up to the promise of sorts! Unless she's particularly sore about being hit in the face. That'd be a pity.
No matter what, however, Marisol holds her ground, that odd yellow energy surging up around her, motes of yellow light dancing and lazily floating up around her. Even as the rain continues to pour without mercy, that energy burns bright, illuminating the air around the redhead as she grins. Even when Arika charges and grabs her by the shoulders, Marisol takes the blow. All of it.
Until she tries to throw her down halfway.
Mid-toss, Marisol's hand shoots upward, clutching by a single arm to the rigging without fail. Despite the rain and slippery surface, somehow Marisol hangs. And pulls herself up. And regains her balance, likely driven by resolve and determination. Briefly, her eyes narrow, watching the blonde woman with a serious expression.
With a burst of newfound energy, Marisol moves forward, a blur in the darkness of night as her hands suddenly erupt in yellow energy. Lifting a fist from her side, that tightly-coiled hand swings savagely for Arika's face. Again...
COMBATSYS: Marisol successfully hits Arika with Cloud Nine.
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Arika 1/-======/=======|===----\-------\0 Marisol
One. Two. Three.
Three hooks are swiftly delivered, each strike embraced in that stinging fiery energy all but hemorrhaging from her fists. However, after the third Marisol's body jerks suddenly, reeling sharply to the left as she coils a fist at her hip. Tossing her shoulders forward, she swings the left fist up, a brutal uppercut meant to stun poor Arika.
And while she is possibly reeling the redhead snaps a hand out, fingers clamping down on whatever of her collar she can grab. For the briefest of moments, the two make eye contact. And she's grinning a creepy, savage smile.
Crack.
Their heads collide, a swift headbutt delivered, before Marisol stoops suddenly and coils a fist again. Rising sharply, her fist swings and delivers ANOTHER cruel uppercut, to send poor Arika flying!
Fortunately she has that rope.
Fortunately, she does.
Though, dangling from the end of it due to all of those punches, she's feeling pretty much what a paddleball must feel like. Abused, beaten and tossed around. The only good thing out of all of this is that her back doesn't crack against the mast or leave her -too- stunned. Deep breaths are taken from the rope as she scrambles to find some semblance of footing again, blood dripping freely from her bruised and swollen lip now.
Marisol won't be the first to find out that it takes a bit more than -that- to leave the punk princess feeling punch drunk. Rigorous training and sheer stubbornness are both at fault for that particular trait, but she's not out just yet.
Kicking off her perch, she tries to swing herself on the rope so that she's behind Marisol. Once there, she reaches her left hand under the girl's right arm in an attempt to lock her up into a half-nelson hold.
COMBATSYS: Arika successfully hits Marisol with Punk Rock Breakdown.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Arika 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Marisol
Using her free arm, the diva reaches across Marisol's body to secure the hold. This is completely necessary so that the half-Spainard doesn't slip, fall, or crash to the deck. Again, she's trying to win not kill.
Sure, in Thailand, things were a little different... but this is just a competition... and an information gathering 'vacation'... not a 'kill your opponents since they mean to take your life if you don't' type of thing.
Once she's got a firm hold, she slides her hands up to Marisol's neck and grips tightly (though not enough to choke her), so that she can lift her up high. Then, a moment of creativity hits her. Since she's likely to slip off her perch if she attempts spinning, she runs off of it instead. Thus, the pair hang in the air for a moment and the diva begins to swing back and forth. Building up momentum, she keeps a firm grip on her opponent as the rope she's on begins to twirl them around. Continuing to lift Marisol high, she swings toward the mast to stop the spinning and then *SLAMS* her down onto the platform directly below them. Enough to crack the wood, but thankfully the ship has been built well enough so as not to send through the deck or down into the water.
Marisol is thinking the same thing, and still not really regretting having tied herself to a rope to prevent herself from falling. However, a little part of her feels sorry for Arika. She's not such a bad person, and the fight was pretty enjoyable, precarious perches and all aside.
But Arika isn't completely down and out yet. She shows this when she kicks off of her little perch and swings for Marisol. Try as she may to intercept the blonde Brit, Arika manages to weasel her way around her figure and lock her down in that iron grip. Fortunately she's mindful enough to prevent the girl from falling to her demise. It's a show of good measure! Marisol will remember it.
When she's done aching or feeling sick.
Swung, the redhead is more or less confused for a long moment in that long period of time, gray eyes blurred, the world a black mess. It's only clear when Arika suddenly slams her onto the platform, cracking and lightly splintering wood. Briefly, Marisol groans before she lifts a hand up in front of her. It seems as if she's admiring her manicure in a daze.
But she's not.
Her hand erupts in yellow flames, the energy coalescing and forming a sphere in her palm...before her hand jerks sharply to one side, sending that sphere of golden yellow flying right for Arika! Whether or not it hits, however, the girl will see about trying to peel herself up off the rigging.
"Urrgh."
COMBATSYS: Marisol can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ <
Arika 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: Marisol successfully hits Arika with Rolling Star.
[ \\\\\\\ <
Arika 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Arika takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\ <
Arika 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Arika has reached second wind!
[ \\\\\\\ <
Arika 0/-------/---====|
The tiny, sunny globe not only hits the diva, but catches the rope as well. This sends Arika into a wild spin in the opposite direction from which she was previously moving, and leaving her feeling quite sick to her stomach.
It's only Marisol's good luck that keeps Arika from hurling her dinner all over the platform and deck below.
Spinning ever faster, she finds herself crashing against the mast. Wind picks up again with a loud shriek and keeps her plastered there for a moment while the rain pelts against her bruised face. Deep blue eyes glance into the night and then shift to gaze down below at her opponent.
And she takes note of the girl's struggling.
A quick flash of lightning sends memories spinning toward Thailand again, and she reaches up to give the rope that's holding her a quick tug. With a little more leeway, she edges herself down to the platform and reaches for Marisol's hand. "C'mon, mate. Grab me 'and. It'll take a wee bit'a time to get down from 'ere since I ain't used to carryin' someone, but there's no sense of you strugglin' like that and potentially fallin', y'know?"
COMBATSYS: Arika has ended the fight here.
Woops.
The intent of her last ditch was to hit Arika and NOT cause her to whirl about like a crazy top. But precisely that happens, causing the poor songstress to practically lose her dinner in the wake of such a messy whirl. And yes, Marisol is thankful. The last thing she'd want to see is the blonde hurling, or hurling ON her.
Eventually Arika collects her wits about her and eventually peels herself from the mast and makes her way back onto the platform. Marisol, on the other hand, has begun peeling herself off the ground, a hand rubbing gingerly at the back of her head. The point of impact, where her head met the wooden platform, stings, causing her to hiss softly.
But she is distracted when the girl reaches out for her hand. Briefly, those gray eyes slides onto the proffered hand, lips pulling into a thin line before she offers a sigh. Eyes falling shut, she offers a defeated look before she accepts. "Alright," she states, gripping Arika's hand and peeling herself off the ground. "Let's just get the heck off of here. This is really annoying."
She pauses briefly, eyes drifting toward the roiling seas as she ponders her predicament. So much for being with her teammates. She sighs.
"Ah well," she offers softly to herself. "Hey, thanks for the help. And if you're ever bored, I'd like a rematch sometime. Preferably someplace that isn't crazy. After this, I don't think I ever want to step foot on a ship again."
She really hates ships. And ninja. And ninja with ships.
Attaching herself to the ship was one thing, but Arika never really put -much- thought into getting down. Getting down while carrying someone else might prove to be even -more- difficult. But she's got to try. This might not have been her idea for a match, and she's fairly certain it wasn't Marisol's, so she can't just leave the half-Spaniard there to be washed into the ocean if the storm decides to capsize the ship.
N-not that it would! But there's always that distinct possibility, isn't there?
Gripping firmly to the hand as the other girl accepts it, the diva breathes a sigh of relief. "Okay, you see that net down below? I'm gonna lower us to that, and we should be able to climb down the ropes and riggin' from there, alright?" Her rope isn't all -that- long, but getting halfway down should be a piece of cake.
She hopes.
"We make it off this thing, you got yourself a match." Off of -what- is the question. The ship, or just this rigging? Either way, she quickly continues, "Exhibition, Neo League... 'ell, you figure out a way to swing an SNF match, you got it." Then she begins to lower them both down to the web-net and from there they can climb down... or at least catch their breath without being tossed against the mast or going overboard.
Log created on 19:49:47 09/02/2007 by Arika, and last modified on 15:44:22 09/03/2007.