Description: Target: Trench Coated Woman on a dark street. Obstacle: Strong kicks and painful vermillion energy. Alias: None. Summary: Ends of months breed desperation as bills she can't pay become due. Targeting those who venture out at night is a dangerous risk and unfortunately the woman she targets is one who is all too familiar with a criminal's life to be easily dealt with.
A lot of people think muggings, thievery, and other nefarious deeds only happen at night. That if they stick to keeping their business during the daylight hours they are safe from those of ill intent - those dredges of humanity that just didn't seem to turn out quite like the rest. But for Ayame, most of her work is done in broad daylight. She doesn't need the cover of darkness to pickpocket a tourist; the shrouds of shadow to shoplift from a store. With daylight comes far more opportunities than nightfall. Far more people to con, steal from, or just plain old mug during the day.
Activity at night tends to be limited to those whom it's best to just not mess with. Gone are the gullible masses. Hiding are the easily scared or fooled. Present are the unsavory sorts that feel at home in the darkness or who's business likewise requires them to stick to the shadows. Night time is not prime hunting time at all. Unfortunately for Ayame, the last few days have been rough. A break in at a rich model's home ended with nothing gained but an invitation to return for dinner sometime, oddly enough. So she isn't sure what to make of that, but the time it took to recover cut into her schedule. Then that afternoon she had to entertain one of the Syndicate's enforcers, which put her on a bit of an edge even though she managed to manipulate the situation to her advantage.
Thus it is that the girl is out at night, against her better judgement. Her marks during the day have not born out well. A fancy playboy she mugged turned out to be a total fake, his wallet full of moths not dollars. A credit card stolen turned out to belong to an account that was already well over its limit. A kid that dressed like she was 19 turned out to be a fourteen year old playing at being older than she really was, and thus hadn't a penny to her name. All in all, not a good day.
With rent due in forty-eight hours, Ayame has stayed out late this night, hoping to get lucky with a prime target. Creeping along rooftops, scouting out the exits of various expensive clubs, and even peeking into the occasionally lit window to see if anything worthwhile presented itself within, the girl is starting to get a bit more daring as desperation weighs more heavily on her.
If anyone is familiar with the seedy underbelly of Southtown, it's Shihong.
A woman of repute, depending to whom you speak, the Shanghai-born criminal has made a suitable living doing the work those with money don't really like TO do. Trafficking, transporting, blackmailing, kicking the shit out of insolent men or women under the strong arm of various groups; whatever the chore, Shihong is acquainted with it.
But to some, the Chinawoman is a relative unknown. A fresh face in the fighting circuits, or just a nobody. "Who?" some may, in fact, say of the woman. Would someone such as Ayame know of the mysterious woman from Shanghai? Would she know enough to keep her distance, despite the desperation to meet this month's rent?
Or is her rent that important?
Irregardless of the ultimate decision, should hapless and clearly unfortunate Ayame choose, the woman walks alone in the cover of night. A slender and particularly lanky woman, her form is clad in a pitch black leather trench coat, her long, pale left hand tucked comfortably into its pockets. Sharp heels click against cold concrete as she strides along, the right hand perched near her ear. And in hand?
A cellular. Top of the line.
"Yeah, I got the message!" she replies to the voice on the other end of the line. "Thanks for sending it. I'll handle the issue for you tomorrow at one, as you like. So how is your wife, Mildred? ...what? Ill, you say? How troublesome!"
As far as anyone can tell, it would appear that Shihong is utterly oblivious to the world.
Sinking down onto a rusted, rickety fire escape, Ayame taps the side of her head thoughtfully, brown eyes staring at nothing in particular as she begins to weigh other options. Drake said he would help her get by if she asked. The thought of sinking to doing that brings a scowl to her face though. She's enjoyed conning people out of their money - twisting their charitable natures against them when they /didn't/ know she was a fraud. But to have someone know the truth and still want to help her? It goes against her entire perception of how human beings behave. It just doesn't make any sense. He has to have an angle.
The clacking of heels against the concrete below echoes in time with the tapping her finger against the side of her head. It takes a few moments to realize that the sound is something entirely seperate from her own internal musings. Ears perk, eyes shift from unfocused to narrowed as Ayame slowly shifts from seated to crouching. Heels can imply a number of things. It could be a lady of the night - mugging them is pathetic, never worth it. It could mean money though. All she needs is someone's credit card for an hour and she'll have her rent covered and then some, no doubt.
Picking up a stray bar of metal from her side that looks like it used to actually be part of the fire escape's support, Ayame rises. Leaping from the fire escape landing, her hands grab hold of the roof of the opposite building and she pulls herself up. The sound of pebbles and small debris spilling against the pavement a few floors below may alert Shihong to the presence of company. But it could be anything from an alley cat to a hobo shifting in his sleep.
Peeking over the edge of the roof, her eyes focus on the Chinese woman below. From a distance she doesn't recognize her. Up close, she wouldn't either. Not from sight alone. She's heard of the enigma from Shanghai but lacks a face to match the reputation. All she sees is a woman with an expensive cell phone walking alone in the night. "And who says fate is unkind," the girl muses silently. It looks like luck has turned her way. This is precisely what she needed.
The flurry of sounds that her mark would hear at the same time might be disorienting for some. The stretch of a tarp as Ayame hops down from the roof onto the extended awning of a closed shop is just overhead. To Shihong's left is the sound of that metal bar Ayame picked up clanging against the ground, a loud cacophany in the otherwise quiet night. And then there's the thud of thick soled Dr. Martin's as Ayame lands on Shihong's right.
Her target - that phone toting arm as both of her own hands lash out to try and pull the limb to the side then twist it behind the woman while stepping in behind her as well. "Sorry, you'll have to call them back," the girl remarks, not sounding apologetic in the slightest. "Don't struggle and this will be overwith quickly-"
COMBATSYS: Ayame has started a fight here.
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Ayame 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Shihong has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Ayame 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shihong
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Shihong with Quick Throw.
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Ayame 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Shihong
Fortunately, if Ayame is not the sort to like the charity of others, Shihong would happily oblige her. Selfish and greedy, the woman isn't about to help someone else out. So even if she asked politely, she would find no charity here.
Perched above, she goes unnoticed by the woman in black. Instead, she continues to chat idly on her phone, engrossed in her conversation. She even smirks to herself, thin red lips pulled across her pale features. Tilting her head, the Chinese woman puts her ear closer to the expensive cellular in hand.
"I hope she is getting better, at least," Shihong responds, nodding her head absently. "I would hate to lose a woman like Mildred. How is your cousin Vanessa? ...oh, vacationing to Mexico, you say!"
Too engrossed in her call, the falling debris goes unheard as the woman ventures below. Instead, her free hand absently tosses about in a dismissive gesture. But when the metal bar suddenly clangs and clatters nearby, the woman's lips pull into a thin line. Briefly, her eyes narrow, and slowly does her head turn over a shoulder. "Just a second," she asks of the person on the other end.
Rather suddenly, Shihong is accosted. Is she...being grabbed? Is someone threatening the woman? A GIRL, no less! On the other end of the line, a distantly concerned male voice calls, "Are you alright, Mao? Mao? Are you there?"
Thin red lips turn into a wolfish smirk.
In a blur, the woman attempts to twist a leg around and behind Ayame, her backside shoving against the girl. Should she succeed, the Chinese woman will pivot on her heel to attempt a fierce side kick, followed by a pick-shape kick, her leg rising high before she drops it down on the girl.
"You're barking up the wrong tree, if you're looking for someone to just roll over and oblige you, kid!"
COMBATSYS: Ayame dodges Shihong's Change-Up Kick.
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Ayame 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Shihong
The arm grab succeded, Ayame expects it to go easy from here. All she needs to do is cinch the arm up a little, make sure she realizes just how helpless she is to do anything about it as the wouldbe theif starts to reach for her left arm as well... She's ambushed plenty like this before. Some put up a bit of a fight, but it doesn't tend to last for long. Especially once she gets them face down on the ground with an easy trip afterward.
She hears the voice from the phone. Mao. Noted. But then her target shifts. She's drawn in close behind Shihong with that grip on her arm and the woman is going to try and entangle her with her other leg? Confident in her balance, the girl doesn't avoid that hooking leg but when the shove comes, the assailant is knocked backward, stumbling a little. Only her raw speed and slightly panicked reaction allows her to avoid the two kicks that would have dealt the real pain, however, as she arcs her back to let the side kick miss just barely then hops back entirely to avoid the follow up.
Wow! A lively one. And, judging by those strikes, not a rank amateur either. She bites her lower lip in thought now that she's gained a little distance, hesitating for a moment, giving Shihong a chance to see the waif that seeks to deprive her of something of value. Much smaller than her, in height and build, her hair is long, visibly bright hued even in the darkness. Her clothing a myraid of things she seems to have just thrown together. No indication of the number of weapons in her arsenal and even her stature calls into question as to whether she could possibly be much of a threat. Even now she hesitates, as if unsure as to whether she needs to call this off or try to press it.
"Come on now... Mao is it? Is it worth getting hurt over?" she asks back. "If you give me the phone I'll just go away." She can pawn that thing for rent probably. Not as rewarding as a credit card. But enough for tonight. "I'm sure it's insured or something," she coaxes, grinning a little as she tries to stand up a little taller, perhaps feeling a bit intimidated by the woman's height over her.
COMBATSYS: Ayame focuses on her next action.
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Ayame 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Shihong
Though stumbled, the girl proves swifter than Shihong presumes. Her kick comes, but swift little Ayame avoids the brunt of the blow. Blinking once, the woman seems vaguely but genuinely surprised. Soon enough, however, the expression falters and fades, her ebony-colored eyes hooding in delight.
This is going to be fun. And Shihong likes her fun.
With a full view now, the Chinese woman sizes up her would-be assailant. She's short. She looks young, and she's dressed like she fell out of a thrift shop. Tilting her head slightly to one side, the taller Asian woman purses her thin lips lightly.
"Huh," she surmises. Interesting.
Lifting the phone in hand to her ear, the woman in black speaks clearly. "Call you back," she explains, sliding the phone's top shut, making nice and compact before tucking it away in her coat's inner pocket.
"Mao?" A swift smirk crosses her red lips, and the woman half-turns, lanky arms folding across her chest. Thoughtful, those black depths shut. "Getting hurt over? My phone? You want my phone?" A hand gently pats her breast.
"Sorry, not giving that up, Half-Pint. Insurance or no, I happen to like this particular phone. It's grown on me."
Those black eyes narrow further, never once straying from the tiny thief.
"What is a kid like you doing out this late stealing peoples' belongings, anyway? You don't LOOK like you're desperate for money. Then again, kids these days."
Her head shakes, disapproving.
COMBATSYS: Shihong focuses on her next action.
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Ayame 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Shihong
The woman doesn't seem as scared as she's supposed to be. Maybe Ayame just hasn't hurt her enough yet. The younger of the two tries to size her up on appearance, but there isn't a lot she can make of her target other than that she knew how to throw a nice kick combo. But maybe that's enough to work with. "Yeah," she states as Shihong confirms her interest in her phone even though she just now put it away. That's difficult to construe as 'cooperating' on any level.
Okay. She's going to have to demonstrate how serious she is apparently. Or maybe desperate. Hard to say. Affixed to a buckle in her skirt is a black velcro pouch that she slips her hand into, pulling out a folded butterfly knife. It looks like an empty metal handle until she flicks her wrist and exposes the sharp blade that was concealed. "Sorry, it's nothing personal. Just a risk you take by being out this late by yourself," the girl replies, her tone wavering between still trying to be conjoling and maybe being a bit detatched, as if she hasn't quite settled on the right approach for dealing with Shihong quite yet.
Maybe waving that knife around will help? She flicks it open and closed idly in her hand, even spinning the weapon around her palm a couple of times. That she can handle that thing in her sleep is pretty apparent. But whether that's really threatening remains to be seen. That she doesn't even use it to attack with when she first advances is indicitive that she's kinda holding back still. Carving some woman to pieces on the street isn't something she particularly enjoys. The girl isn't sadistic, merely pragmatic.
Switching to the offense, "You'll probably feel more cooperative once I soften you up a little," she states, her tone muted, determined and low as she charges forward again. Rather than stabbing with that knife in her hand, she swings out with her foot - thick soled shoes aimed to plant into Shihong's stomach. "HA!" If she connects, she'll follow up the momentum of the kick by lunging forward and trying to grab hold of the woman's trench coat by the lapels. Not to attack or harm, mind, but just to pull her in closer - get inside her personal space to shake her up a bit, maybe.
COMBATSYS: Shihong interrupts Light Kick from Ayame with Savage Tiger.
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Ayame 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Shihong
The thing about Shihong is...there's precious little that really scares her. Confident--too confident--in her abilities, the Chinese woman isn't about to let herself fall victim to a little street urchin of a girl who just wants to pawn her precious phone. She paid good money for the good phone--like hell she'll just give that up! Not without a fight.
And Shihong has been itching for a good brawl. Today is her lucky day!
The knife drawn, the woman's rouge-red lips curl into a thin smirk of clear-cut amusement. "What's this, now?" she muses aloud, watching as the young blonde tosses the knife about with a skill to rival even the most adept of melee fighters. A thin brow lofts even, eyes curious. "So what, then? Will you gouge my eyes out? Bleed me dry for a cellular phone? Are you really so desperate to play with fire?
"And so confident, too. You've got a big bark, little doggy."
Black eyes go wide as the girl in front of her moves. Holding firm her ground, the Shanghai woman looks pensive as she observes the swift-footed young woman charge forward. Muscles tense--the blonde is going to kick her with those frighteningly large shoes. In fact, she does, the sole of Doc Martins planting into the elder woman's gut. A grunt slips past her lips, pale features flinching.
But those arms jerk to life, grabbing the girl's ankle.
"But...can you bite?" she asks. Red lips suddenly cut across her face in a sadistic grin.
Shoving the leg aside, the woman jerks to life. Snaring the blonde by her arm, she moves in a fashion almost unbelievable; planting a foot into the girl's midsection, she holds fast to Ayame's arm as she scales her chest. Reaching the apex, those long, lanky legs suddenly flare to life with odd, vibrantly red energy. Legs stiffen. They come down hard, right into her shoulders.
Weight alone is enough to drive the girl face-first toward the ground with surprising force. Energy swells and, as result, an explosion rocks the girl--and launches Shihong from off of her. Twisting her body midair, the woman lands behind her.
Her foot striking out, Ayame retorts, "I'll only go as far as you force-" And that's when she realizes her foot has been caught, preventing her from snapping that leg back down and allowing her to move in as close as she had intended to. And, considering what happens next? Maybe it's a good thing she didn't get any closer.
Her foot is shoved aside, leaving Ayame off balance, making her arm easy to grab hold of as she struggles to regain control of a situation rapidly becoming anything /but/ controlled. Eyes widen, her face illuminated by that red energy that rips against her with each strike. She can see it for what it is, but the way it tears into her feels so unlike what she is accustomed to from even talented fighters. What beast has she accousted in the dark streets of Chinatown?
The crash to the ground and subsequent explosion wrack her body with pain, the girl immediately trying to get back up as her hands plant against the ruined concrete, only to collapse back down. The knife she had tried to scare Shihong with slips from her fingers as she tries to get up a second time, with more success now, on hands and knees for a risky moment as she takes in her breath.
Okay, this woman is serious. But Ayame isn't about to run. Not yet. Her hand reaches to the clasp of the belt that had been hanging loosely around her waist. With a press it slips off her in two coils - apparently it's actually a short whip rather than innocuous attire. And then she's on her feet, turning to charge toward Shihong, that cable weilded in her hand as she seeks to lash it out around the other woman's neck.
If she manages, she'll flip over to the other side of Shihong, landing behind her and pulling back tightly on the choking cord while driving her right foot into her back. "If this is how it has to be..." she growls, a hint of anger drawn forth by the savage strikes she just weathered.
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Shihong with Blackmail.
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Ayame 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Shihong
What have the dark streets of Chinatown brought?
A woman intent on not getting mugged by a whelp, that's what!
After her particularly nasty assault on the girl, Shihong slowly turns on her heel, regarding the girl as she begins to peel herself from the ground. Brows lift slightly, black eyes clearly thoughtful before those thin red lips pull into the slightest of frowns. A delicate hand rises, resting gently against her soft cheek.
"My oh my, you're getting up? I had hoped you would have stayed down, Half-Pint."
She pauses, her features darkening.
"It would be for your own good, after all."
Is she serious? Of course not--the smirk that haunts those red lips is evidence enough. Still, the Chinese woman maintains an annoying sense of calm and utter composure as she holds her ground for the moment. A blur of motion draws her attention, and in a moment the woman attempts to lean back and avoid that incoming...belt-whip thing. No good, however.
Snared like a bull, the woman's throat is at Ayame's mercy, wrenched tightly in a nasty little submission hold of sorts. She seems even more serious now, but the woman--still struggling for a breath--maintains that calm. "H-how it has to be?"
A weak laugh escapes her throat.
Snaking a hand around, the woman attempts to seize that wire in hand and pull fiercely, to stumble the girl at best. Regardless of consequence, a leg shoots out from below her once balance is (hopefully!) regained, aimed for her stomach with a strained kiai croaking out of her throat.
COMBATSYS: Shihong successfully hits Ayame with Medium Kick.
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Ayame 1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0 Shihong
The girl would be happy to maintain that hold for as long as it took, straining to drain the fight right out of the woman and get this unexpected challenge over with. Shihong may be having fun, but Ayame isn't. She just wants to turn a profit and get the heck out of here. Fighting is a means to an end. Not that she doesn't enjoy testing her toys out on victims to judge their effectiveness in a variety of situations... she just prefers ones that don't kick quite so hard!
Shihong's strength proves enough to pull Ayame forward as the girl tries to pull against her. The jerk in the cable doesn't quite make her stumble into Shihong's back, but it sets her up real nicely for that kick to her stomach that comes next.
That falls loosely from Shihong's neck as Ayame is sent staggering backward, her left hand pressing against her stomach as her expression shifts. Distress is visible for a moment, but it fades quickly, hidden beneath that mask that still hopes to be intimdating, not prey. Her lip curls at getting called Half-Pint again, but taunting isn't hurting anywhere near as much as those kicks are.
Maybe it's time to slow Shihong down a bit instead of charging at her all suicidal-like. The whip is coiled once around her shoulder where it seems to remain easily enough and the long haired girl reaches over to her right arm with her left hand, pulling back the black arm wrap she has there to expose a small contraption. As its two 'wings' expand, it becomes clear that it's a miniture crossbow with a single bolt loaded.
No words, this time, as she raises her right arm and points the little weapon at Shihong. Just focused aim. Her right hand closes, pressing the trigger in her palm that sends the little bolt flying. Already, her hand reaches for the pouch at her side as she seeks to buy herself a second's worth of time. Knives didn't seem to impress the trench coated woman much. Maybe something else will.
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Shihong with Sudden Fling.
Glancing Blow
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Ayame 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\0 Shihong
All good things must come to an inevitable end, and Shihong is glad for it.
Snaring the girl's cord, the taller woman offers a slight snarl, tugging the girl forwards before she swiftly lifts a leg and plants it harshly into her stomach. It brings success; as result, the woman drives the waif little urchin off of her person, giving her the much-needed breath of air she deserves. Gasping to herself, the woman lightly rubs her throat, black eyes slowly drifting, settling on tiny Ayame.
Red lips part, and the Chinese woman looks as if she's going to speak, to say something--likely snarky or some variation thereof--to the blonde girl. But when she lifts her arm and produces a strange device, those features lightly falter. What the hell, she wonders to herself. But wondering won't accomplish anything. What is Shihong to do?
Why, try NOT to get hit.
So when the bolt is fired off, the woman in the black coat twists her body. Just barely does she avoid the bolt and potentially having an arrow lodged into her form. Instead, that bolt soars past, cutting against her arm, through her coat and leaving a lash, tiny points of red swelling against her pale arm.
"What kind of thief are you? You're too young to be throwing shit at me," she complains.
But there's nothing more from the woman; instead, Shihong rushes forward, a hand curled tightly at her hip. The other hand is outstretched as she rushes in. It's a feint at best, meant to distract the thief. Instead, the real threat comes as she suddenly swipes the outstretched arm aside, the clawed hand at her side suddenly thrusting upwards and forwards. She intends to plant the palm of her heel into waif little Ayame's stomach--or it appears. Instead, a burst of vermillion energy swells and erupts, to leave a nasty mark on the girl's gut--a center of much abuse tonight, it seems!
COMBATSYS: Ayame fails to interrupt Swallow's Wings from Shihong with Harvest's Reaper.
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Ayame 1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\1 Shihong
The bolt didn't provide the distraction she was hoping for as Shihong manages to weave around it smoothly with no more than a scratch to show for it. But maybe it's still enough time - From the pouch at her side Ayame withdraws a half-foot long metal object that looks like a metal tube. A button press and a hydraulic hiss later and the small instrument has expanded into a full length staff made of titanium. One she plans on using to smack the hell out of the woman charging at her.
The mistake was falling for the feint, however, moving the larger weapon up and at an angle to knock aside the outstretched hand with the intent to follow up with a vicious sequence of attacks. She won't be grabbed, thank you very mu-
Ack! The strike at her stomach gets in cleanly, leaving her completely exposed to the red hued energy that blasts forth. "A-ya!" the girl gasps as she's sent sliding back several feet along the sidewalk, ready to topple over entirely but for how she quickly catches herself by planting the staff against the ground and using it as a lever to prop herself upright.
Okay. Yeah. Bad mark. BAD MARK. Ayame doesn't advance this time, nor does she even seem to be preparing any more tricks. For the moment, the girl simply stays put, both hands wrapped tightly around the pole as it seems to be keeping her standing at the moment.
Ayame is damn resourceful; Shihong will have to give the waif little thief that much, at least. Black eyes widen a bit mid-charge, as the baton is produced and ultimately wielded in the woman's general direction. Is she going to beat her senseless? Well, that's all the more reason to push the advance!
Fortunately, it pans out for Shihong. Striking the girl in her stomach with a burst of curious red energy, sent skidding back and away from the other woman. Briefly, the woman in black holds her pose, arm outstretched, the unoffending arm held up close to her forehead, crooked. A beat, and the woman relaxes, standing to full height before she grins.
"Now a baton? For a kid your size, you've got a lot of shit hiding on your body. Where the hell are you hiding all this crap, anyway?" she asks, eyeing Ayame carefully before red lips curl into a confident Cheshire's grin. Lifting her chin, she tilts her head ever so slightly, eyeing the younger girl with those hooded black depths.
"Now, are you still certain you want to steal from me?" she inquires. "As I said, it might be better for you to stay down, like a good girl. I can't promise I'll keep myself from hurting you too badly."
Already, Shihong has begun marching forward with an arrogant gait, eyes narrowed in delight. Regardless of poor Ayame's condition, the woman continues to talk on. "Somehow, though, I doubt you'll give up while you still can." Closing in, the woman twists on the heel of her right leg, the left coiling at her side as she pivots. A harsh rotation, she attempts to drive the heel of her shoe right into the girl's shoulder, to push her back and unbalance her again.
"So I guess I'll have to keep hitting you until you're unconscious!"
COMBATSYS: Ayame blocks Shihong's Short Kick.
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Ayame 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\1 Shihong
Kid. Half-pint. Grr. She doesn't return Shihong's grin as she just takes the moment to catch her breath. Certain she wants to steal from her now? No, not certain at all. Certain she wants to show the woman how tough she can be? Definitely! But right now she's running on fumes and a lot of her tricks haven't met with the success she was hoping for.
"I think that's all I can take," she states, sounding as if maybe she has surrendered? Pragmatic, not suicidal. Maybe she's come to her senses and realized she's not going to come out ahead on this one. Or maybe she's just trying to buy time as she figures out how to deal with the power this woman weilds.
That heel is met with a shift of the polearm, Ayame moving the weapon just enough to get it in the way of Shihong's foot. Though the weapon is pushed back against her shoulder all the same, it's going to take more than that to put her down.
"Maybe just a parting gift for your time," she remarks as she hops back after the block and starts spinning the staff swiftly. A violent red aura flows along the weapon, the first manifestation of chi control the girl has demonstrated the whole night. Red light flickers off the wall at her side as for a moment she becomes impossible to see behind the whirlwind of power channeled into the staff.
"Catch!" And with that she swings the weapon out and to the side, unleashing a cresent of that red energy, sending it flying back toward Shihong at about waist level. Maybe she's looking for revenge for all those gut strikes!
COMBATSYS: Shihong blocks Ayame's Final Sunset.
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Ayame 0/-------/------=|=======\==-----\1 Shihong
Is Ayame surrendering, giving up on the fight?
Shihong isn't dumb enough to let the girl's supposed surrender give her up her defenses in favor a swell of confidence. If anything, the woman's a bit more on the alert now, cautious of the kid and her newly procured staff. She's definitely a strange one.
"Too bad, Half-Pint!" the woman cries, despite the blocked kick. "And sorry, I don't particularly enjoy parting gifts. I never believe in good-byes, except when people die. So unless you plan on dying right here and now..."
That staff is noted, the furious red aura that erupts around it eyed cautiously. Briefly, the woman in black holds her tongue and breath, simply observing. Soon enough, that energy swells to critical mass, and from the staff the crescent-shaped projectile sailing at the woman's prone stomach. Vengeance?
"I refuse to accept your gift!"
Swinging a fist forward, the energy burns and sears her garment's sleeve, cloth and flesh burning as she bats through the attack. Gritting her teeth, Shihong seems to split the assault in twain, dispersing the crimson-colored energy and spare her body from a full-on attack. Distantly, the woman breathes a sigh of relief. Phew.
"We're through!" the woman cries, eyes briefly widening before she bares her pearly whites. Charging forward without hesitating, Shihong suddenly exercises grace and flexibility by leaping up and aerial cartwheeling toward Ayame's body, heels alight with that same, curious red energy. Not once, but twice she attacks, heels exploding with power, to send the girl soaring away, to tumble helplessly to the ground.
Thereafter, she lands in a deep crouch, the woman's red lips cutting into a callous, scimitar smirk.
COMBATSYS: Ayame counters Vermillion Sparrow EX from Shihong with Bright Renewal.
- Power hit! -
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Ayame 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Shihong
The massive outpouring of chi is handled remarkably well by Shihong. Ayame was hoping for a major blast and instead she's met with with her assault being smashed in half, the energy dissipating without much fan fair. "Che," the girl growls between clenched teeth. And then comes the pain train express as Shihong comes back at her with a sequence of violence that goes far beyond what the weary girl can manage at this point.
But Ayame stays focused, no longer having to lean against the bo length weapon to stay standing any more. "At least we can agree on one thing," she retorts as she leans forward, stabbing the staff out like a lance, positioning it just so as to intersect the acrobatic Chinese woman's assault with a poke to the ribs.
The pressure pushes back on Ayame, but she works with the momentum, allowing the staff to slip through her fingers until most of it is behind her rather than out in front of her... It's then that she up and WHIRLS her body around, swinging the length of the weapon out from behind her like an oversized baseball bat to smack the woman hard.
The girl invested a lot into that swing, such that even the follow through is clumsy and she ends up spinning around a /second/ time just because she can't stop herself now. Catching herself just before she falls over, she doesn't pause for longer than a couple of seconds before she runs forward to retrieve the knife she dropped before. "I guess I'll let you keep that phone for now. Better call your friends back!" she calls over her shoulder.
Seems the waif is running for it now. Mao Shihong is scary!
Whether they agree or not, Shihong does not particularly CARE. As it stands, she's annoyed that this little half-pint thief tried to take one of her most prized possessions, and then decided to start trying to punch her around. She even SHOT at her with a concealed crossbow. How can Ayame expect the woman to tolerate her, despite the patience she has otherwise expressed thus far.
Her cartwheel at Ayame is cut short, the tip of the girl's bo staff stabbing into her side. It draws a harsh gasp from her lungs, eyes widening briefly. It certainly doesn't smart as much as it could, it certainly catches her off her guard. And then, bam. She's being struck in the side like a baseball. Shihong lands, rolling once.
Recovering, Shihong rises from the ground, and looks positively annoyed. The nerve, to think that for all her efforts, to stop the girl short and otherwise end this fight here and now, were all for naught. She denied one of her swift assault. How dare she? And now she wants to run away?
Alright then. Time to get serious again.
"Where do you think YOU'RE going!?" she bellows after Ayame as she flees.
Pushing off her back heel, the woman's Pradas click noisily against cold concrete, her pace swift and sure as she chases after the girl. Her destination? Ayame--particularly, one of her arms. Reaching out savagely, the woman seeks to snare the young, skinny little thief by the wrist and wrench it harshly upwards while seeking to plant a heel with particularly cruel force right into her back.
Why?
To scale her again and drive her heels into the girl's shoulders with those fiery heels again, and introduce her face to the concrete. Again. Because Shihong is mad!
...even if her nigh-maniac laughter in the process suggests otherwise.
COMBATSYS: Ayame interrupts Savage Tiger from Shihong with Weapon Jab.
[ \\\\ < > /////// ]
Ayame 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Shihong
The knife is retrieved off the ground, flipped closed, and slipped into the black pouch from which she had pulled it out near the start of this mugging gone horribly wrong. Gasping, out of breath, and in incredible pain, she realizes Shihong isn't about to let bygones be bygones. Some people! Try to stab them or smack them upside the head with a couple yards of titanium, and they just don't want to let it go!
For the first time in the fight since the clumsy stumble away from Shihong's kick at the beginning does true panic show. Glancing over her shoulder gives her only enough time to realize that Shihong has closed that distance frightfully fast but little more time than that to defend herself. Her arm is latched onto and wrenched hard, eliciting a cry of pain. And then comes the foot to her back - those sharp heels that had drawn her attention when this all started prove to be treacherous in the end.
But at last she gets her wits about her and puts that polearm of hers to use with her free hand, managing to brace one end of it against the ground while simultaneously crouching at the same moment her back gets used as a set of stairs. The top of the weapon protrudes upward, intent on snaring the woman with enough force to cut the rest of her assault short before she can quite faceplant the girl a second time.
Following the crouch, however, Ayame remains kowtowed, one knee pressed against the concrete, only the hand gripping the sturdy weapon keeping her from falling over all together. "Please," she pleads, sounding desperate now. What's that? She's turning on the water works judging by the sniffle that comes next it sounds like. "Let me go!"
Merciless til the bitter end.
This aptly sums up just how Shihong feels in the moment. She wants her revenge, for the girl having otherwise stopped her cold-turkey in the middle of a well-choreographed assault. She takes pride in her skill, damn it. How dare some little squirt do that! So while she runs...Shihong pursues, relentless.
Attempting to climb her back once more, the woman finds herself suddenly cut short. Unexpected is the sudden jab of that titanium bo into her face as the girl kneels. Mildly stunned, the woman blinks once, staggering there on Ayame's back before she falls off. Catching her balance before she faceplants, the woman lifts a hand up and idly rubs her pale face, now turned red by all but headbutting the bo staff. Or is it facebutting?
Shaking her head slowly, long, spidery fingers depart from her pale face as the woman regards the kneeling young thief. She says nothing immediately; instead, those black eyes observe the young blonde, thin red lips pulled tightly across her face. She wants mercy now? After all of this? Are those tears?
"Who do you think you're fooling, Half-Pint?" the woman asks with a smirk. Exhaling thereafter, black eyes draw to a close, her intent to fight obviously gone. "If you think that trick will work on someone like me, you're mistaken." She knows the trick--because she was once in a similar spot as the young thief. But that's a story for another day. Instead, the woman's smirk eases into a lopsided grin of amusement.
"You're alright, kid."
A hand waves, dismissing her as her as she turns her back and begins to walk away. Said hand moves thereafter, dipping into her coat as she strides in the opposite direction of the kowtowed Ayame.
"Get out of here, kid. I imagine we'll be crossing paths again, soon enough." Pausing, she casts a thoughtful eye toward the lonely moon, before she adds with a playful smirk.
"I can hope, at least."
Called on her tears, Ayame falls quiet, mouth shifting to a neutral, tight lipped expression, arm straining to keep her propped against the trusty polearm. Yeah, this woman isn't so easy to manipulate like a lot of the saps she's dealt with lately. Talking her way out of this isn't going to work. There's people that can be bluffed, twisted and turned every which way by an innocent face or the power of a girl's tears. But that isn't working here and there's no way she can play the 'tough girl' act when her body is all but trembling with exhaustion now.
Between gasps for breath, her right hand comes up off the ground to wipe against her mouth, but she leaves the stale tears alone even though their magic is useless here. Sweaty, dirty from being faceplanted, the girl definitely looks like she's had better nights. And if Shihong decides to finish this painful dance decisively, her night is about to get a lot worse.
But as Shihong prounces her as being 'all right', Ayame lifts her head slowly, brown eyes studying the dark clad woman. Told to scram, Ayame nods hesitantly, though doesn't move immediately, remaining on one knee as her intended mark turns to stride away. "Mao." she mouths the word thoughtfully, far too quietly to be heard. She likes the sound of that name. Distinctly Chinese. Simple. Elegant. She might have to call herself Mao sometime.
She doesn't stay for long as the woman departs. Her weapons retrieved, the staff is collapsed as she slips back to a standing posture. The half-foot long tube is twirled in the palm of her hand a few times as she shakes her head. She really needs to get better at picking out the people that are capable of giving her such a rough fight. On the other hand... "I wonder if I'll ever see her again. Hm." She glances to the side. A dark alley, thick with grime, filth, and rats. With a sigh and a shake of her head, exeunt Ayame.
COMBATSYS: Shihong has left the fight here.
[ \\\\ <
Ayame 0/-------/----===|
COMBATSYS: Ayame has ended the fight here.
Log created on 21:21:34 10/28/2007 by Ayame, and last modified on 12:58:36 10/29/2007.