Description: Target: Random Pacific High boy's dorm room. Obstacle: One German spaz. Alias: None. Summary: If only Luc wasn't such a reprobate and had actually gone to class instead of seeking out a place to nap in the very spot Ayame is committing a mild case of breaking and entering. New friends are NOT made as the two switch to fighting and Ayame throws everything but the kitchen sink at the young man.
Pacific is one of the easier schools to slip into. Unlike the frilly lace laden halls of Seijyun, where everyone has to look like they spent a million bucks just getting ready for school in the morning, Pacific is a bit different. With students from a variety of backgrounds, races, hair colors, skin tones, and body sizes, wandering around the campus without sticking out too bad isn't that hard to pull off.
Which is why Ayame hasn't bothered with a Pacific High girl's uniform like she would for Justice or Seijyun. Seems like most of the students barely pay heed to the dress code anyway from what she's seen. Cheerleaders in bikinis, brute-sized oarmen without shirts, Brazilian girls without any clothes at all... Yeah, Pacific is definitely a different breed when it comes to educational institutions.
But blending in isn't too much of a concern, as the girl has deliberately shown up during the morning hours. Late enough that most of the student bdoy should be in class by now. Leaving the dorm building a generally quiet, inviting place for one interested in seeing what kind of goodies the upper class foreign students have stowed away in the dorm rooms.
She would invade the girl's dorm just because of plausible deniability being a lot easier if someone spots her. But they're up on the second floor. And Ayame is going to come in from the windows. Which means the Boy's Dorm it is! Creeping along the back side of the building, she finally picks her room of entry after listening for any signs of life for a long while.
A suction cup gets plopped against the glass right near the handle, followed by a very careful, quiet cutting of a circlular hole out of the glass.
*plink* The opening is just large enough for her to get her hand in and unlock the window latch. Collapsing the tool and sliding it into the bag affixed to her belt, she glances back and forth before carefully pushing the window frame up to get a real peek inside. A head of strawberry-blonde hair sticks in through the opening as cold, brown eyes quickly scan the interior.
Ah, the world of the obnoxiously rich gaiden. It certainly is a different atmosphere entirely from the strict standards of the Japanese schools like Seijyun, or Justice. Those with money come here to do what they want, and dress how they want.
Because that's the foreigner way.
The lax atmosphere, of course, makes it ideal for breaking and entering or acts of espionage. In theory, anyway. With the students all attending classes, learning how to be proper capitalists or whatever they teach at foreign schools, there is one girl who does not belong. A simple, single female completely out of place, both in actuality and simple -location-. It's not often girls are found loitering around the boy's dorms. It's not often they're found with tools designed specifically to break in without being heard or seen. It's probably a good thing, then, that this girl so carefully propped just outside the dorms has everything planned out to perfection. The goal of any good thief is not to be seen. Not to be heard. To be a ghost. Ayame is a ghost. A ghost that moves with muted intention, opening a window with the gust of cool air. She does not move until she knows that there is no one inside her target room. Ayame is a ghost. Except --
"Oi."
She's vastly overrated the student body's dedication to the educational system.
The voice doesn't come from -inside- the room. Ayame has made quite sure that it was uninhabited. Rather, it comes from behind her. Decidedly male, decidedly -bland-, it drolls out the sound of notice as if reluctantly choosing to acknowledge Ayame's existence. Should she choose to turn around, she'll get a good look at the source: a tall boy with dark hair, dressed in what might be a formal attire if not for the wrinkles in his shirt, the loose tie, the rolled up sleeves. He says nothing for a long moment. He just looks at Ayame with hooded, green eyes and a particular frown of disdain that makes his expression cringe unpleasantly.
"... What the fuck are you doing?"
Luc Schroedinger -- getting to the heart of the issue.
Oh yes, this looks good. An iPhone left carelessly on the desk within easy view will fetch some good money. Looks like some kid is going to have to nag his parents for a replacement, Ayame smirks, picturing some whiney foreign brat looking dismayed to find the little expensive bauble he forgot on his way to class isn't there when he gets back... She bites her lower lip with anticipation as her eyes stray over the rest of the room. A laptop sits open on the bed. If it's new, it's valuable. If it's old, it'll provide spare parts for some contraption or other that the girl is always tinkering on. A profit either way.
So engrossed in taking a quick mental inventory of the room, she failed to realize that someone had come upon her from outside until her thoughts are derailed by a voice that isn't supposed to be there. She freezes for an instant as if trying to sense a surprise attack, but after a few seconds backs her head out of the window and turns around to face the male student, pulling her hands away from the window frame.
Her own clothing is a mishmash. A black blouse, a red and black plaid skirt, and a tie worn loosely around her neck. When one tends to obtain attire via the five-finger discount, coordinating well tends to be of second concern.
As his question comes Ayame stares back at Luc before shrugging just a little, her left hand coming up to flip some of her long hair back over her shoulder. Well, well. If it isn't one of those walking money bags that attend this school. The girl pointedly studies Luc from head to toe, scoping him out for any obvious watches, bracelets, a wallet bulge, or hell, even an expensive belt buckle. She isn't picky. "Duh. What's it look like?" she replies with a faint smirk across her lips. Ask an obvious question, get an obvious answer as the saying goes.
Within the confines of his pants pockets, Luc's hands twitch and clench into tightly coiled fists. His right leg imperceptibly sweeps backwards in a subtle shift of stance. Feet shoulder-width apart, posture relaxed -- even slack, giving off vibes of apathy only a teenager could -- he hardly seems the threat. Except the look in his eyes. A slight spark in that deadened, bored gaze that bolds only ill. It's the look of a jerk. Or more specifically... it's the look of someone ready to pounce.
The German sneers as soon as Ayame responds, as if her very voice alone was grating upon his nerves. He gives only a cursory glance to her appearance, offering nothing more than a derisive snort. Girls. They have the weirdest sense of style. But he's not interested in any of that. He's interested in what a single, stupid girl is doing at the boy's dormitory alone, lingering outside a window. And his answer?
Another question.
"Maaaaan..."
Luc hates it when people are witty.
If this had been anyone else, they might have assumed that Ayame was just a creepy perverted stalker and just went along their way. Luc, in fact, deduces as much in a single statement: "Looks like you're stalking someone like some kinda freak." That should be the end of that. But... Ayame has the bad enough fortune that she had Luc notice her. His right leg tenses. His frown deepens. After all...
"I don't care what weird, pervo things you're doing..." And that's when Luc's right leg sweeps upwards. It's alarmingly fast; like a whip, his black-clad leg snaps up -high- into the air and bends at the knee. "... but this is where I hang like to nap..." His leg snaps outward with piston force, driving his point home with the heel of his shoe stomping into Ayame's gut, accompanied by the faint crackle of black energy burning at his leg in a subconscious overflow.
"... so you're gonna get -the hell out-! Stupid girls!"
Be it man, woman, or child, physically disabled or mentally handicapped, Luc Schroedinger will never hesitate to resolve all his debacles with violence.
COMBATSYS: Luc has started a fight here.
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Luc 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Ayame has joined the fight here.
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Luc 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ayame
COMBATSYS: Ayame dodges Luc's Light Kick.
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Luc 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ayame
Wait, what? Stalking? Not burglaring? How did he... Ayame stares at Luc pointedly. 'No, you dolt. I'm trying to-' she almost starts to say... When she decides playing it off as just that works just as well. She shifts from smirking to sighing wistfully as if sounding a bit saddened at getting caught in the midst of stalking the crush of her week. "I can't help it, Roy Browmwell..." the girl murmurs, raising her hands up to rest against her cheek. She knows a few of the famous Pacific High Schoolers, at least, even if her attention wasn't so detailed as to know of the German boy standing before her now.
But he doesn't seem to care either way. A fact she figures out quickly enough when he tries to plant an energy laced foot right in her stomach. The nerve of some people! Can't she stalk, steal, or break into someone's room in peace? While she wasn't quick to move, she isn't flat footed either, the girl stepping to the side and letting Luc kick the wall instead. "Awh, too slow," Ayame observes, the wistful tone gone, replaced with a teasing voice that seems amused as his attempt at hurting her. That there was energy beind that attack of his wasn't missed. But some people can manipulate chi and barely pull off anything better than a harmless light show, so that doesn't immediately set her off guard as being something to worry about...
"Tsk. You really should have found somewhere else to nap," she continues as she steps forward, sweeping her leg out to try and send Luc to the grass on his back. "Now you're going to get hurt up over nothing. Hopefully you have something on you to make this worth my time!" If she manages to knock him down, she'll follow up by dropping onto his stomach with her knee as if trying to pin him to the ground.
COMBATSYS: Luc dodges Ayame's Light Kick.
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Luc 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ayame
-CRACK-.
"...?" Luc stares for a moment, as if perplexed. Stomaches aren't supposed to feel like concrete, so why--
Oh.
"-Stupid girls-." Because he really feels he must reitterate that point.
Polished shoe meets solid wall with a surging crackle of force that erupts in seemingly harmless sparks of black and blue. Spiderweb cracklines form throughout the point of impact as the German registers the dull throb along his leg brought about by kicking a wall full force. He disregards it. He has more important things to think about. Mainly, the fact that his foot has struck wall instead of idiot pervo girl stomach. Considering how fast -he- was moving, that can only mean one thing.
"So you know how to fight, huh...!?"
And that deeply knit frown quickly blossoms into a grin.
She responds quickly. Lithe form already twisting, a single leg spins out in an attempt to unsettle his own. But she's not the only fast one here, and the German's response is universally simple: he jumps. A single jump through the air sends his feet snapping upwards and just beyond the sweep of Ayame's leg. He rises high, green eyes suddenly -wild- and his grin decidedly feral. "So the pervo stalker knows how to move!! Well... LET'S SEE HOW TOUGH YOU ARE, OKAY?!" Luc comes bearing down on Ayame as gravity takes hold, moving straight into an attack with all the excitement of a child smashing around with a new toy. His right fist cocked back, it suddenly -ignites- in a wreath of black-blue fire at the height of his leap. That fist lashes out, stamping downwards in an overhead punch meant to swat Ayame into the ground herself with brutally simple force. "GRAAAGH!!"
COMBATSYS: Ayame endures Luc's Medium Punch.
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Luc 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Ayame
"Better than you do," comes the reply as he asks if she knows how to fight. Not that she has the slightest bit of evidence to base such a claim on. But she's just that sure of herself. After all, she's never seen this guy before, so he can't be some crazy kung fu high school student like a Shingo or Batsu or something ridiculous, right? But he takes to the air, managing to get over her low sweep completely.
Grrr. It looks like her victim is fiesty. See how tough she is? Ayame isn't terribly concerned about the young man's opinion of her. But she is curious about how much of his flashy power is just for show... "Tough, huh?" she replies with a shake of her head, stepping into that overhead punch such that it crunches into her shoulder and kowtows her slightly from the force.
Ow. That hurt. A lot worse than she had anticipated. But that's okay... she can take a little abuse from the likes of him. It's worth it to... In the confusion it would be hard to even figure out where she came up with the two sharp butterfly knives that she flicks open in both hands. Coming up from the crouch his punch forced her into, the girl attempts to swing in with both of the weapons from opposite angles, making them hard to deal with if he doesn't manage to get out of the way quickly. "It isn't about being tough," she remarks, "Just a matter of being able to hurt the other person more is all!" If she sinks the stabs she'll pull the knives right back out and try to sink a second pair of wounds right through his nice, wrinkled shirt.
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Luc with Assault and Battery.
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Luc 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Ayame
One punch, coming in like a freight train for the poor, considerably smaller girl's head. And what does she do. She -takes- it all. Like some kind of man. Some kind of -man-woman-. Luc feels the give beneath his fist, the acceptance of that flare of fiery chi. And his response is just as off as someone as petite as Ayame taking such a brutal blow.
"That... that...
"THAT'S -GREAT-!!"
With him still falling, responding properly to the inevitable counter-assault is a difficult process for Luc. One that he doesn't even remotely manage to succeed, or even attempt to. It's clear that he doesn't even make the vaguest motions to defend himself when -knives- are cutting through the airspace between him and his opponent. Cold metal introduces itself to Luc's chest in a sequence of biting stabs, scoring deep wounds across his torso as white fabric rips like butter beneath the sharp edges. The German is quick to launch himself into an awkward, backwards twist at the end of the second pair of biting stabs, landing on his feet about a meter from Ayame with an upheaval of dirt. Green eyes blink in a slow, disbelieving process. His right hand presses rough fingers against the stab wounds at his chest, dragging it away to stare at the bright crimson that now stains his palm. Does he stare on in disbelief? Horror, at what he's gotten himself into?
"... Hah. Hahaha. HAHAHA!"
No, he's grinning as if he just won a brand new car. "YOU FIGHT WITH -KNIVES-!? -SWEET-! Maybe, if you use those..." His laughter dying down from its excited roar, Luc presses his right foot into the ground to ignite his forward launch, blazing across the ground as fire blooms around his legs and shoulders in an after-effect of his sheer excitement. His right hand snakes out in a blurring forwards -snap-, seeking to dig rough fingernails into Ayame's face.
"... you can actually -MAKE THIS INTERESTING-!!"
If the hold is successful, Ayame gets to go on a short and painful ride on the crazybus that is Luc Schroedinger. Twisted about a full, disorienting one hundred eighty degrees through the air, Luc will finally -slam- her into the ground back first with a shrill roar before unleashing a torrent of black-blue chi straight into Ayame's body -- only to snap -back- just as quickly, in a blurringly fast sequence of movements. "C'mon!!!"
COMBATSYS: Ayame blocks Luc's Raving Slam.
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Luc 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Ayame
Ayame hasn't spent a lot of time around foreigners, to be honest. Sticking mostly to the slums of Gedo where Southtown sends its poor natives that haven't managed to scrape out a better life for themselves, she views just about anyone non-Japanese as an amusing, confused, bumbling tourist. Until they teach her otherwise, at least. Luc? He's pretty much a psychopath. She's never provoked laughter by delivering stab wounds before.
Pulling both of her hands back, the blades having gotten their first taste of the black haired boy's blood, there is a puzzled expression on her face. "I do," she states with regards to his reaction about her fighting knives, sounding like she's trying to sort out his odd behavior in a way that makes any kind of sense. But she doesn't stay puzzled for long as she raises her hands to block his incoming powered swipe.
Grounded, her intercepting of his hand proves to be enough to keep her from getting knocked clean off her feet even if the finger nails and chi do leave a mark on her arm that makes her wince a little. "I'm not here for your entertainment," she snaps, sounding just a little annoyed at his reaction to her attacks.
The knives are flicked closed then as the girl slips them back into that black pouch on her belt that she had pulled them from earlier. "I'm simply going to take your stuff and then leave. That's all there is to it." she explains quite rationally before lunging forward and trying to snap her hands onto his right arm.
If she gets a grip, she'll try and twist him down to the ground, face down, and wrench his arm behind his back, dropping down on him in the process... It'll give her a good shot at patting him down for a wallet! Though considering he thinks she's a pervy stalker, he'll probably draw a different conclusion as to what she's up to...
COMBATSYS: Luc fails to interrupt Medium Throw from Ayame with Tyrant Strike.
- Power fail! -
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Luc 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Ayame
Well...
That didn't go according to plan. But that's what makes things -exciting-, isn't it?
Blood drools out of the pairs of stab wounds lining the German boy's torso in lines of dark red. He doesn't seem to notice or even -care- about them anymore, though. His focus is put entirely on the source of the wounds. The young girl who is even now crashing forearms against his powerful, outraised palm. There is the crackling boom of explosive chi upon contact; Luc's arm snakes back, looking hardly disconcerted at her reaction. That just means she's worth fighting. Besides, he has a--
--Plan?
A plan that never sees the light of day simply do to how -fast- Ayame moves. Before he can even properly respond, he's being dragged -straight- into the ground. Face meets concrete in a bloody smack. His lips peel back in a snarl as he feels her drop down on him. A crack to the back, hands feeling him u--wait, what?
"... WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" It's roared just about when Ayame might find his wallet. Luc gives an almost irrationally violent thrust to get her -off- of him, green eyes flaring with untold irritation. "Stop feeling me up, you freak!! THIS IS A FIGHT, WE'RE NOT GOING STEADY!" Going steady. Where would he even learn a term like that?
If Ayame peels off and looks into his wallet, though? She's not going to find much. A couple bucks. That's about it. Apparently, Luc is the shining definition of 'traveling light.'
His wallet retrieved, Luc's ranting is ignored as Ayame hops back up to her feet, having claimed the only thing of interest she was able to find on the foreigner. Freaking him out amsues her a little, "Oh? A bit far for a first date, hm?" she laughs before moving onto other business.
She wastes no time, eager to see what she's gotten for her trouble in dealing with the loud mouth only to... frown. "This is IT?" she sounds exasperated as she pulls out a couple lousy bucks and nothing else that looks interesting. She does pull his student ID out though and glance it over, memorizing the data on it in an instant before tossing it absently over her shoulder.
"Jeez. I thought you Pacific kids were rich or something. Maybe it's all just a show. And here I thought maybe you'd be worth my time." The wallet is folded closed and tossed over her shoulder after his ID. She does keep the money though. A couple bucks is a couple bucks. The money gets slipped into a small plastic clip located beneath her skirt right at the hem.
"Or maybe just all your friends are rich and you just bum everything off of them... Figures I get attacked by the one guy not worth more than a few dollars." She brushes her hands off as if considering her interaction with this student to have come to an end. "Got a bit of a bite though, I'll admit that much." she rubs her shoulder thoughtfully from the hit she took dead on. "Some kind of energy manipulation expert, hm? Ah well, I can't go about my business with you running off or pestering me or what not..."
The girl reaches up and pulls on the long ribbon that was keeping her hair off her shoulders. The bow comes undone easily into her fingers and then the girl is suddenly on the offense again.
This time? She's trying to snag Luc's arms with that ribbon of hers. It looks like any frilly cloth ribbon, but it's actually lined with something rendering it as tough as steel. And yes, she plans on tying the youth up right here behind the dorm building... but first the arms! Which she'll wrest into a painful position behind his back before tying up his wrists if he ends up not being quick on his feet...
COMBATSYS: Luc fails to interrupt Savage Combo from Ayame with Aufstand Welle.
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Luc 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Ayame
Clearly...
... Luc's proverbial 'groove' has been thrown 'all out of whack' today. As it were.
Must be because of girls. Stupid girls. It's the only thing that Luc can think of by the time he manages to lift himself up from his cowed position. Blood drips down from his chin now in a thin stream -- apparently, she struck him down a lot harder than he thought a weak little girl like her could manage. But he is swiftly being proved wrong in a number of things. Painfully, painfully wrong.
One assumption he has thus far not been wrong about, however, is the fact that all girls are invariably far too chatty for their own good. Managing a little grunt of annoyance, Luc peels himself upwards, shaking out dust and dirt from his hair. "Blah blah blah... is all you know how to do gab on and on?" muttering this out in an almost bored fashion, Luc accompanies it by callously scratching at his ear in an idle gesture of habit. "... Tch. Idiots like you, talking about crap you don't know about..."
And then she comes at him. At the same moment, he rushes -forward-, stampeding across the ground in a sudden forward rush of speed.
"I HATE THAT!"
He leaps apparently intent on dealing with that. Except that he's suddenly being armlocked with surprisingly... shocking amounts of pain, and tied up as well? Agony shoots through him like a white-hot poker brand. Moreso than that, though, is confusion. He has no idea what's going on, and his own pain tolerance coupled by this bamboozlement allows him to ignore the majority of the pain.
"... What the fuck?"
The black ribbon is weaved around his wrists with disturbingly expert skill. Like maybe Ayame has a bit too much practice with just such an action. "Ah, that's the problem with boys," she remarks as she cinches up the bindings on his wrists. "Just can't keep track of two things at once. I, for example, have no problem talking with you," she continues deftly tying the knot now that she has him held securely before pushing Luc away from behind just to be mean, "At the same time I'm dealing with whatever you call that fighting ability of yours." she finishes with a shrug.
Next? She slips off the belt that was hanging fairly loosely around her waist. Sliding the velcro pouch off it and allowing it to land on the ground with a heavy clank, she whips the belt once with a loud crack in the air. Ah, poor Luc... What's he gotten himself into here?
"Looks like the one that has no idea what he's talking about here would be you." she notes. "After all, you're the one with his arms tied up." She loves pointing things out about the young man it seems as she analyses everything about him with an impassive, clinical approach.
"Anyway, I need you to lie back down!" she remarks as she lunges forward and tries to deal a devestating kick to the side of his head, the roundhouse spinning her around from the momentum. It really DOES look like she intends to tie the kid up after all and go right back to robbing the dorms. The nerve of that girl!
COMBATSYS: Luc dodges Ayame's Heavy Kick.
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Luc 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Ayame
She can multitask, she says.
"What the hell kind of stupid thing to say is that? I can talk and fight, too..." Pushed away, Luc goes stumbling forwards, only keeping his footing by natural deftness. A grunt passes across his lips, his frown growing more secure. She can fight, for certain.
"... I just don't like talking to -worthless-, -stupid- -trash- like you."
He stops with the scrape of his right heel against the concrete ground. If Ayame thinks this is going to be a -deterrent- for him though, one look in his eyes should say otherwise. This is going to be a challenge. A fun, -interesting- challenge. His lips twist as he veers to the side, stomping his left foot into the ground to steady himself. His head turns, spits into the ground in a conglomoration of saliva and blood. He grunts.
"Moron..." The word is all but growled out as she thrusts forward with that sweeping high kick. The roundhouse is aimed for his face. What it -hits-, however, is nothing more than air. Sliding harmlessly through the air, Ayame will find that Luc has already ducked down into a crouch, tensing at the knees. A moment afterwards he's springing -backwards- in an oddly graceful flip. It sends him into a deft landing a good seven feet away from Ayame without so much as a stagger. He pauses. Takes a deep breath.
And then Luc Schroedinger works his magic.
"What kind of moronic, no-good idiot tries to mug a student? Are you some kind of filthy hobo?" He squints here pointedly, leaning in as blood dribbles down his chin. His arms strain against his bindings, slowly attempting to loosen them. "How stupid. The only people who have to steal money to get by... are just a bunch of worthless rejects. You're pathetic... useless... -trash-." He smirks, quite clearly content with himself.
All this trash talking is giving him a second wind of sorts, it seems. Luc takes to being an asshole like a duck to water.
COMBATSYS: Luc gains composure.
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Luc 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Ayame
Her foot whistles through the air before snapping back down to the ground. Completing the motion she turns back to face Luc just in time to see him... backflip away, without the use of his arms at that. There is a slight eyebrow twitch at the acrobatic escape. But what comes next probably gets her worked up a little bit more.
As he begins to rattle off insults, Ayame backs up calmly, dropping the belt to the ground in order to retrieve that velcro back of toys she had. She doesn't seem too concerned about him /breaking/ the ribbon that binds him, but Luc might be able to worm his way out of them given time. "You spout a lot of big talk for a guy that just got his arms tied up," she remarks, but there's an edge to her voice now, the clinical detatchment slipping.
"Mugging you wasn't my plan in the first place," she remarks, teeth gritting a little. From the pouch the girl withdraws a thin coil of a wire-thin rope, a small metal pointy object dangling from the clip at the end. "What do you know, anyway. I imagine you get all your money wired from mommy and daddy at the first shortage you encounter anyway." she continues, unwrapping the coil before she starts to spin the rope dart vertically at her side. "It's easy to judge how others fend for themselves when you don't even have to do anything to take care of yourself. Do they have some kind of nanny keeping your bedroom clean for you out here too?"
But now she's charging him again, though not quite closing the distance between them entirely. A hop in the air followed by a spin kick against the dart sends the sharp metal projectile flying out. She's aiming to plant it right between his eyes. Perhaps a bonk on the noggin to shut him up a bit.
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Luc with Medium Fling.
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Luc 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Ayame
Big talk, indeed. But Luc doesn't seem overly concerned. If anything, this position he's in, how well she's doing -- it just means he has another -interesting- challenge. His leg sweeping back, he adopts his fighting stance, albeit a bit oddly with his arms still securely strapped behind his back. He smirks, but it's not a nice one. More like the cruel tip of a smile from someone whose just kicked sand in the eyes of someone smaller than them. "Heh."
On she talks, though, and Luc's response is ultimately simple. "Jeeeeeeeez... whine, whine, whine. Y'know what?" Luc doesn't seem to even take note of that unwrapping of coil. Instead, his legs just dip him slightly lower, in preparation for a jump. "Asses like you, who're too weak to make anything useful of themselves, who can only complain about how bad off they are..." She hops, Luc rushes forward. The dart flings out. He's not fast enough to evade it, taking a blow straight on the forehead with force enough to knock his head backwards violently. But he just. Keeps. -Running-.
"... ARE THE MOST PATHETIC PIECES OF CRAP I'VE EVER MET!"
Like some runaway train propelled by sheer momentum and drive alone, Luc continues rushing forward, pushing his body faster, faster, FASTER with a sudden explosion of fire behind him to compensate for the rampant ninja beaning. He leaps forward, for Ayame. Not shoulder-first. Not leg-first. -Head- first. Rocketing through the air using his own chi as a propulsion system, Luc will dig his forehead straight into Ayame's nose with the painful -CRACK- of a headbutt. If successful, his body twists in midair, feet planting into the girl's midsection before just pushing -off- with a sudden explosion of black-blue fire from the soles of his feet, intent on knocking Ayame straight back. "GRAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!"
COMBATSYS: Ayame interrupts Medium Kick from Luc with Cruel Barb.
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Luc 1/------=/=======|=======\=------\1 Ayame
Ayame's jaw clenches at Luc's retort, all pretense of being aloof of disinterested in anything he has to say melting away quickly as he carries on and on. She just wanted to restrain him a moment ago, but now she's really thinking she'd like to just crush this loud mouth into the ground and be done with it. Mouth tightening into a thin line, she rushes forward to meet him 'head on', nailing him with the rope dart but not stopping him short it appears...
That's the nice thing about that strange weapon of hers, though. It's capable of striking out repeatedly in rapid succession without having to pause for long before whipping it out again. And that's precisely what Luc barrels into with his head-first charge.
Coming out of the hop with her feet planted firmly on the ground, her strike against him buys her a precious moment of time to spin around and whip the projectile out with a brutally fast, powerful follow up strike against the TOP of his head this time. It serves to buffer his attack that comes next as the young man crashes into the girl, driving his headbutt against her face all the same. *CRACK*
Ayame staggers backward, her smooth, graceful motions with the rope dart cut short from the brutal interception. Her brown eyes widened, her right hand lets go of the dart, allowing it to dangle from her left wrist, as to press against her nose. She has time to backstep out of the follow up foot stomps, but the trickle of red that becomes visible between the fingers pressing against her nose makes it pretty evident that what was probably the most important part of the attack really hit home.
"Why you..." the girl growls, realizing that the injury is likely to bruise and give her a black eye or two... a setback for someone who spends a lot of time trying to keep up appearances as being not such a punk herself. By now it's quite likely that the ribbon itself has started to slacken from all the movement as well. She hadn't anticipated him being so MOBILE.
"I was going to let you off easy," she snaps, still not lowering her hand from her nose, causing her voice to sound a little muffled and nasal.
By this point, Luc is far beyond the ability to register feelings of pain. It's a good thing and a bad thing. It means he can keep trucking along. It also means he just doesn't know when to stop and stay -back- for a moment to think about his next plan of action. By this point, he's just losing himself in the feel of the fight.
The moment that his head impacts against Ayame's nose, all sensation of common sense is gone. All that is left for Luc is that berserker's fire raging in his green gaze. His lips twist into a wide, shit-eating grin the exact MOMENT that odd projectile whiplashes back into him with a firm -smack- to the back of his head. His upper body lurches pointedly. There is a stinging sensation of warmth at the back of the German's skull, but it's lost within the sudden, blood-curdling howl that he releases from the depths of his lungs. "GURAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!"
If it wasn't clear by now...
... He's pretty much lost it.
Ayame's threats go lost to the wind the moment that Luc Schroedinger lashes out through the air, releasing all the tension in his body like a spring. He twists in an awkward motion, his movements blurring as he strains his muscles to the point that he's actually starting to do his -own- body more harm than good. He doesn't notice. He doesn't care. His rage and his battelust propel him on where common sense and rationality have abandoned him, bringing him to strike out with his right leg in a flipping kick. It swings upward like a whipcord, engulfed in a spiral of black-blue fire. The toe lances out to bury itself into Ayame's chin, at which point all that pent-up energy within his leg is simply RELEASED in an explosive wave of flames. Threats and insults will have to wait for later.
He's not exactly 'coherent' anymore.'
COMBATSYS: Luc successfully hits Ayame with Tyrant Strike.
[ \\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Luc 1/------=/=======|=======\====---\1 Ayame
She sees the attack coming. But knowing what is about to happen and being fast enough to do anything about it are two seperate matters. His foot swings up as he flips, still getting by with his arms bound in spite all her expectations to the contrary. She didn't take him for such a kicker at first! His foot comes in, time slowing down for her as she tries to fall back and out of the way, but to no avail. The brutal first impact stuns the somewhat more delicate fighter and the explosion of chi that comes afterward does all that was necessary to seal the deal of knocking her clean off her feet onto her back, landing with a pained gasp, her rope dart plopping down onto her stomach, still attached to the cable around her left wrist.
Yeah, the time for talking is over. It's time to take this crazy kid down. Ayame rolls onto her side and kicks back up to her feet, spinning in mid air to land a little distance from Luc, off to the side as she tries to assess his crazed condition. Her right hand slips into her blouse from the top and withdraws a thin, metal object that she flicks open with her wrist, revealing an old fashioned, cast iron, bladed Japanese war fan.
This one has been modified with a metal ring near the handle which serves perfectly to affix to the ring clip on the other end of the rope bearing the rope dart, which Ayame manages to do quickly, backing up to buy herself a little bit of time while staying focused on Luc.
She has nothing to say to him now. The seething anger in her eyes does all the talking for her as she charges forward again, swinging the rope around her into a frantic whirlwind of movement. The fan, now attached to the opposite end as the rope dart, packs a real punch, while the smaller dart on the opposite end serves mostly to provide a distraction, screwing up Luc's defenses, making it harder to fend off the assault.
In the end, she legs go of the rope all together, however, seeking to leave it entangling Luc like a devil's web. It means relinquishing the rope all together, but if it lands, the mess it'll put Luc in in the end will have justified the gamble.
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Luc with Entrapment.
[ < > //////////// ]
Luc 1/-======/=======|=------\-------\0 Ayame
He's operating beyond adrenaline right now. Beyond fighter's instinct, beyond anything rational. Just pure, berserker rage propels Luc onward like a hurricane of motion, snapping his foot into Ayame's chin and sending her flying. Years of training have taught him how to improvise in any situation. And even in a completely irrational state of mind, instinct takes over where strategy cannot. He strikes, she falls. He lands in a crouch, painting from the exertion. His muscles ache. The blood rushing through his body at a mile a minute burns like lava in his veins.
But he -grins-.
It's that same insufferable grin he's carried the entire time, if only tinged with that feral lack of rationale he's possessed with now. Fingertips scrape against the ground, waiting. His right hand begins to burn with a searing intensity. He seems to still be recovering as Ayame prepares herself, because it's only as he -rises- does she come. And Luc?
He runs right at her.
The plan goes less than perfectly. His right fist swings, but she stops him dead flat with the sudden, brutal assault of her warfan. His bones ache and crack under the force of the weighted weapons, jaw dislocating with a sickening crack that sends his head violently snapping down to the side in a spray of vermillion. But his right hand still burns, as if building up for something. Rope entwines and entangles him with bone-crushing constrictive force, but even as it does... his right hand rips -away- from the entangling mess, managing to stay free. The rest of his body is not so fortunate and, as tied together as he is, he goes toppling towards the ground. His right hand rears back, and just as gravity introduces him to his new friend Mr. Concrete...
Luc sees fit to punch the ground with righteous fury.
He's never been that good at making friends.
"HUUURRAAAAARRRRRRRRGHHH!!" It hurts to talk at all, his jaw clicking unpleasantly with a sear of white-hot pain as he roars. But still he bellows out. The moment his fist strikes ground, four long violent lines stretch out from the point of impact in a cross-section of the ground. They pulsate like veins, as if they were -alive-. Pulsations that rapidly grow stronger until the all EXPLODE into massive walls of black, blue and violet chi, easily dwarfing Ayame in height. These walls begin to rotate in a clockwise direction, intent on picking the poor girl up into what soon becomes a raging, monstrous STORM of power. Ayame will get to spin around and around as the chistorm burns and tears at her, until it all inevitably ruptures in one massive explosion...
... leaving a very unconscious Luc in its wake.
COMBATSYS: Luc can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Ayame 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Luc successfully hits Ayame with Demiurge Trigger.
[ \\ <
Ayame 0/-------/=======|
The girl has no idea what she's unleashed here. She's ticked people off before. Sarcastic at times, falsely sweet at others, she tends to grate on the nerves of everyone she targets for victimizing. But she's never quite seen a reaction like this before. Her rapid, brutal assault ends with the young man primarily entangled as intended and Ayame releases a gasp as she finishes hurling the rope mess over him, the pain of the damage incurred rapidly catching up with her.
But as he falls she thinks she's finished this little dance. Granted, far less smoothly than she would have hoped for, but... hey, sometimes plans get derailed, nothing she can't handle. In fact, she's already starting to turn around to assess how she's going to need to clean up all of her toys that she's scattered around in trying to combat the energetic student when his yell reveberates against the walls of the dorm building, alerting her to there being something more... and by something, one might be referring to the gigantic walls of chi bearing down on her, surrounding the girl before she can do anything about it.
The last sign of Ayame down below is the fighter raising her arms to try and bunker down and weather the assault out. A instinctual defensive reaction anyone might opt for in the face of such overwhelming power. But it hardly matters as the swaths of chi errupt into her, spinning her into the air, tumbling their captive about as she flails helplessly, trying to get out.
The final explosion drives her up even further, nearly slamming her into the side of the dorm building... but the apex of the drop brings her just shy of impacting the wall and with a desperate grasp, Ayame manages to grab hold of the corner of the roof, dangling two floors up for several seconds before she finally manages to pull herself up and over the edge, taking her out of sight from anyone down below.
She doesn't get much further, crawling a few more feet before passing out way up on the roof of the dorm building. Her body bruised and burned, her clothing torn and shreaded, this was a most unprofitable trip indeed. She might need to scratch Pacific High off her list of places to target. Kids here are /scary.
Luc is left down below with a wide assortment of objects. A rope entangling him, a black hair ribbon, a whip-cord like belt, a Japanese war fan and rope dart... and that small pouch containing two butterfly knives, moist with the boy's own blood. It's anyone's guess what the hell they'll think of all that stuff if someone happens across him before he wakes up. Considering the variety of odds and ends, nearly any conclusion seems viable!
COMBATSYS: Ayame takes no action.
COMBATSYS: Ayame can no longer fight.
Log created on 01:58:18 10/27/2007 by Ayame, and last modified on 13:54:56 10/27/2007.