Description: Objective: X03 Prototype. Obstacle: Pesky Pint Sized Ninja. Alias: None. Summary: Nothing like competition in the work force to make a job harder than it should be.
Blueprints to the building and an objective is what Elle gave her. "Looks easy," was all Ayame had to say on the assignment and then she was off. On the outside, the warehouse has an innocuous looking sign proclaiming it to be the proud property of 'Net-tech Inc'. But while there probably is a company with that name out there somewhere, this particular land doesn't actually belong to them.
The building is large. The central area is large and open, the sides packed with crates while the center is occupied by an extensive, automated assembly line for cranking out military grade assault rifles. On both the left and right sides of the central open area are three floors of offices connected by stairs, elevators, and hallways.
Most of the lights in the building are out as tends to be the case at 1:00am in the morning. There are patrols, however. Armed guard making the rounds, flicking lights on in rooms randomly, stopping by the security both to chat with whoever is on duty watching the cameras at the moment.
Ayame had let herself in via sky light on the left side of the building. She wonders why supposedly high security installations have such easy points of access to begin with. Some executives just can't get by without their fancy offices, she supposes. The problem is, she needs to get to a lab on the bottom floor of the right side of the building. A new rifle prototype is secured there and according to Elle, someone is willing to pay a lot of money to get it. The Blackjack leader was vague on the details there and Ayame didn't ask. She didn't care. Maybe it's "R" wanting to investigate the military's advances in hardware compared to their own. Maybe it's a business competitor who wants to cut some corners on their own research costs. Either way, if she pulls the job off, she gets paid, and that's all that matters to her.
The office she's landed in is completely dark except for the glow of a backlit PDA screen that Ayame is looking over intently. Seated in the executive's own comfy leather chair, the girl is studying out her route through the building. Avoiding the guards all together would be preferred. Since once she beats up one, she'll have to contend with the whole place getting worked up and that will make this messy.
The door to the office wiggles, a guard inserting a key while making his rounds no doubt. Ayame has already ducked beneath the desk, however, and only the subtle creak of the seat springing back to its default position indicating that anyone was in the office to begin with.
The door opens, swinging on smoothly oiled hinges. But it doesn't open all the way. It opens just enough to allow a slim human figure to slip through, a bar of light shining in from the corridor...before the door closes in an equally quiet motion, plunging the office back into darkness.
In that space of time, said human figure might be visible to Ayame, if she's able to peek beyond her hiding place.
The new arrival...isn't a guard.
She does, though, have a key. This vanishes with a flick of the wrist as she enters the office, gliding soundlessly into the room. The floor of the office is carpeted with thick pile, but even that can't explain the inhuman silence of her passage. Wrathlike, supremely confident...
...until she hesitates, pausing.
It's dark in the office, completely pitch black, but her head turns to look towards the desk, all the same.
Staring straight at where Ayame is hiding.
In the process of slipping into the rather obvious but oft times unchecked hidden space beneath the desk, Ayame closes the PDA, slipping it into a side pocket in the thin backpack she has on. And from another pocket she fishes out a small round mirror attached to a jointed black plastic stick. Perfect for peeking around corners or... out from under a desk, without having to move anything more than her arm.
The door opens and closes, just as Ayame would have expected. No one can possibly make the same round over and over and actually put more than a token effort into glancing into offices in the dead of night. And it's that attitude she's counting on to make her way through the building.
But the mirror has something else to show her though. A small figure moving in, moving noiselessly over a floor that should be making sound, and closing the door behind her. This threatens to make things interesting. Maybe she didn't disable the alarm around the skylight as well as she thought and someone has come to investigate. Glancing up, the new arrival might even notice the small but clear, perfect circle that was cut into the glass of the skylight in order to provide access to the wires below it. Those wires aren't exactly cut, per se, but there's a strange device sitting on the top of them, fooling them into thinking the skylight never opened at all.
Well, that's the smallest darn guard Ayame has ever seen. And a quiet one at that. In fact... there's nothing guard-like about the company in the room at all. And right now she's glancing pointedly back at the desk. Even with the thin line of light coming in from the hall from beneath the door, the tiny mirror might be hard to detect. But Ayame's gut tells her that whoever this is, she doesn't need to see the mirror anyway.
Holding her breath, the only other sound is that of the ventilation system at work. She isn't budging except the smallest amount of movement necessary to pull the mirror back from peeking beneath the desk. Focusing all of her senses on the singular task of tracking the other presence in the room.
Silence.
Then:
"Well," the new arrival murmurs, "are you going to stop me from leaving?"
It's a soft voice, one barely above a whisper. It wouldn't do to speak too loudly, of course. Noise would draw attention, and that would be...undesirable. So it's a quiet sound, but distinctly audible in the hush of the dark office. A female voice, a lilting soprano, clear and musical...and somewhat bemused.
As she speaks, she lifts her head, looking straight up at the skylight above. The night sky is cloudy, overcast, but this other intruder seems to have little problem studying the planes of glass set into the ceiling. She tilts her head slightly.
It's a pretty problem, really. This office, at the very end of the tower block...is a definite vulnerability in the building's security. An access point.
But access can mean entrance...or exit.
"Nice bypass device," she comments, candidly.
A nice device indeed. Sitting right in the way of her own planned escape route, in fact.
She turns her gaze back to Ayame.
It's an unlikely figure that regards the thief, a slim teenage girl clad in t-shirt and shorts, a pair of in-line skates on her feet and stereo headphones round her neck. A yellow raincoat hangs open from her shoulders.
And slung on her back, a duffle bag, zippered tightly shut - but with all the appropriate length and bulges to be something with a long barrel, grip, and trigger guard.
The moment the other speaks, everything clicks. She isn't here to find her. She's here to get out via the same hole in security Ayame had taken advantage of. That changes things a bit. Two uninviteds passing each other in the dark of a room. What's it to her if the other girl takes off? It does mean that security might be a bit more alert, of course, if the other girl's presence was detected. But Ayame can cope with that.
But she isn't going to stay hiding either. Slipping out from behind the desk and rising to a standing position, her eyes make out Riko, having had a lot of time to get used to the dim light of the room. "Thanks," comes the reply to the compliment about her custom made device for circumventing some security models.
Her own clothing a hodgepodge of things Ayame has stolen and modified for her own purposes. A black blouse and plaid skirt. Her heavy Doc Martins exchanged for softer black leather loafers. A small bag at her hip carries some basics, and a thin black backpack on her back for additional tools for a job like this. Elle has made available to her various uniforms and outfits for Blackjack missions, but she hasn't really taken the time to modify them in the way she needs, hence sticking with what she's used to.
At first glance she can see no reason not to let the girl go on her way. That is, of course, until she eyes the dufflebag. "Yes. Yes I am," she states calmly. "It seems we have goals that are mutually exclusive. But you did save me a time consuming trip across the building, so in thanks, I won't hurt you if you decide to just hand it over."
Riko arches an eyebrow, giving Ayame a faintly incredulous look. It's the sort of look that would speak volumes of disbelief. It is an epic poem of facial expressions.
Unfortunately, it's dark as Satan's broom closet in here, so the whole thing rather goes to waste. Seeing as how the two girls can barely make out each other in the low illumination, much less subtle intricacies like that.
Riko blinks once, twice, three times, looking almost confused. She opens her mouth to reply - before stopping. She turns her head slightly, glancing at the bag hanging off her shoulder. The metaphorical light bulb of enlightenment blinks on, her lips making a little 'o' of understanding.
Then she chuckles. It's a soft laugh, the sort of laugh that says 'I know something you don't'.
Riko locks eyes with Ayame.
"Oh," she says, breezily, "I don't think you want this."
"You might be right," Ayame replies, her left hand moving to seemingly rest at her hip. The sky light is a straight jump up from behind the desk though she knows better than to assume this other infiltrator can't manage to reach it from an angle as well. In fact, her left hand isn't idle at all, slipping a small, nigh invisible coil of cable from a loop in her belt. Her right hand is held out, however, palm up.
"If that isn't the Project X zero three prototype rifle then I really don't want it at all. But I suspect otherwise and I'm not going to let you leave until I know."
A toss of her head sends her long hair back over her shoulder, but her attentio isn't taken from the other girl, best seen as a silhouette against what light is making it into the room than in any fine detail. She isn't expecting this to go down without a fight, but she's looking at just a little kid, right? How bad could it be. She was at least /two/ years old than that before she robbed her first store!
"You can just put the bag on the desk. I'll see if it's what I think it is. And if not, I don't care what you do after that." Her right hand lowers, gesturing toward the desk as she takes a step backward herself, taking measures to not get in close range it would seem.
"Ummmmm," Riko muses, pouting.
She lifts one slender finger, holding it vertically across her lips.
"You see," she says, pleasantly, "that requires I trust you..."
She smiles, impishly, as she unslings the bag, bringing it round and in front of her. She brushes her fingertips over the fabric, resting them finally on the metal zipper.
"...and you're such a /suspicious/ person," Riko chides, sounding vaguely admonishing. Tsk-tsk.
She makes no move to approach Ayame, or the desk. Riko stands firmly where she is, a few feet away, on the carpet just past the door. She stares at Ayame, levelly.
Thieves these days. They're just so uncoperative. Ayame has backed away from the desk, but not so far as to leave her in a position of not being able to intercept Riko should she go for the skylight. "What can I say. I wouldn't trust me either," the girl admits with a half shrug.
"After all," she states, taking a single step forward, her right hand slipping up to the level of one of her two belts where a small sheath has been sewn into the fabric. "If we were trustworthy, we wouldn't be meeting each other right here."
She frowns a little, her own expressions more visible as she's facing toward the door and the minimal source of light coming into the room. "But you already know you're not getting out of this easily." A leap forward carries her just over the desk, feet barely cresting the monitor sitting on top of it as Ayame makes an attempt to snare a hold of Riko with her left hand, fingers stretching out to grab a hold of that rain coat she's wearing.
Her right hand is occupied by slipping out one of her knives and flicking it open in the process of being raised up and toward Riko's throat. If she gets the initial grip she's seeking, she'll slip in behind the girl to shift her left arm around her neck and move her knife up near her cheek instead. "Drop the bag," she'll hiss into the smaller girl's ear.
COMBATSYS: Ayame has started a fight here.
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Ayame 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Riko has joined the fight here.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ayame
COMBATSYS: Riko dodges Ayame's Quick Throw.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ayame
She gets that grip, alright.
The trouble with that is...a grip on the material of the raincoat does not necessarily constitute an effective grip on Riko. The garment is long, slick, and slightly too big for her thin frame, and in the darkness of the office it quite effectively obscures her true outline. This means that while Ayame does haul Riko towards her, while Ayame does manage to swing behind her...
...she doesn't /quite/ manage to loop her arm around the young ninja's neck. Even with her coat pegged, she's got ample wiggle room to simply -shift- inside the garment.
Which she does.
Even as Ayame brings a knife to Riko's head, the younger girl retaliates. In the simplest, most direct way possible. Using the most convenient thing at hand.
She simply loops her hand round the straps of that duffle bag and swings it round, slamming it towards /Ayame's/ skull.
COMBATSYS: Riko successfully hits Ayame with Quick Strike.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Ayame
The girl realizes only after she's gotten in close how deceptive the outline she saw was, her arm not locking in nearly as tightly as she had intended, giving the small ninja a lot of wriggle room to work with. Her two options are to try and cinch in the hold better or to back off and re-evaluate what she's doing with this kid.
The choice is removed, however, when Riko manages to put that freedom to move to use in order to swing the heavy bag up and against the side of Ayame's head, surprising her and stunning her enough to get her to let go all together and stumble backward, wincing at the blow.
Fighting comperatively blind isn't her idea of a good time, but after getting loose, the window of opportunity for Riko to leave has certainly grown. "Cute," comes the comment, but she is on the offense again right away. "But I think you've underestimated how serious I am." Her voice is intense though volume kept low. She hasn't completely forgotten the intent was stealth not violence.
A second knife occupies her left hand now, flicked open with the same remarkably fast gesture that the right hand one was. She still hasn't fully ascertained the dimensions of her opponent, but she does know one thing. Stab right through both sides of that rain coat and she's bound to hit something. And so she does, both hands swinging in from opposite sides as she seeks to hook the girl, literally, and keep her from going anywhere.
COMBATSYS: Riko blocks Ayame's Medium Strike.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Ayame
"No," Riko replies, flatly.
The blades smash through the outer layer of Riko's raincoat, the sharp tips cutting cleanly through the fabric, lashing through to reach skin and flesh.
Except for one thing - they don't reach nearly as deeply as they should. Oh yes, they do penetrate, and yes, they draw blood, but the force of the strikes is nevertheless /blunted/, partially absorbed.
All this without any movement on Riko's part.
There must be something in that coat. In it or under it.
Riko doesn't bat an eye. For someone who's just been stabbed - twice, from either side - she's remarkably calm. Not worried in the slightest. Her face shows no sign of pain.
She turns her head just enough to look at Ayame.
"That's -my- line," Riko says.
COMBATSYS: Riko focuses on her next action.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Ayame
Ayame is certainly given a surprise when the twin stabs seem at first entirely uncontested only to not slide right in through skin like she would normally expect. Uncertain as to what hold the knives would even afford her right now, and having already been struck in the head once for backing off, she goes for a new plan. A simple plan. A 'I need a second here' plan. Not pausing in the slightest, in stark contrast to Riko's inclination to simply stand still.
"Then I guess we know where we stand." Up comes that loafer clad right foot at the same time she retracts both of the knives from their points of impact. Forward comes her foot, aiming to give Riko a solid slam in her lower back, targetted to knock her off balance, especially if she's still trying to maintain a hold on that bag.
COMBATSYS: Riko dodges Ayame's Light Kick.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Ayame
Yes, she's still keeping a grip on that bag.
But no, it doesn't seem to be slowing her down any.
This might not be all that surprising, really. Considering the sheer insanity of Seishirou's training regimen, Riko's had to master the art of fighting while burdened with all sorts of insane things. She is, after all, the student of a man who walked around for /months/ with a tree strapped to his back.
Compared to that, a little duffle is nothing.
Not that Ayame knows that, of course. From her perspective, she's just confronted with a little ninja girl who simply ghosts out of the way of that kick. Her foot falls short, the heel hitting only empty air. It doesn't fall /too/ short - it only misses Riko by a hair's breath as she moves forward. But enough is enough.
Her in-line skates ruffle the pile of the carpet as she spins completely around, turning to face Ayame.
"Mm-hm," Riko replies, simply.
Then she accelerates.
The wheels of her skates start to spin, quick enough that they almost leave a permanent groove in the carpet. Almost. The contact with the ground doesn't last all /that/ long - because Riko is very suddenly blasting towards Ayame, holding that heavy duffle bag in front of her like a battering ram.
COMBATSYS: Riko successfully hits Ayame with One Hit Wonder EX.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\0 Ayame
The Ayame defenses don't hold up too well against that battering ram as the girl tries to get out of the way of the missile kid. Not significantly larger in stature herself, and off balance from recovering from her missed stomp and trying to get out of the way the same time, the blonde is taken completely off her feet by the impact against her chest, driven against the wall with a solid crunch right near the door.
Sinking fast to the ground as she tries to cope with the wind being knocked out of her, the girl's hand slides up against the wall, brushing it until her fingers happen across a switch that she quickly flicks to finally fill the room with illumination. That impact felt more like she's fighting someone much larger than she had seen, and the stubborn way the younger sounding girl seemed to not take much of a hit leaves her more than just puzzled by now.
The lights coming on force an adjustment. She had brought night vision goggles, but the idea of trying to pull them out in the midst of this seemed rather unlikely to be accomplished. Squinting at first as she tries to get a clearer picture of her opponent, the girl is already starting to push herself back up to standing, using the wall as a brace for her back. A coughing noise betrays that she didn't take that hit too well at all, and the ruckus caused certainly has her wondering if interference will be along before too long.
At this point, her options are to hope Riko has what she's looking for and get it, or scrub the mission all together. She hasn't given up on option one, though she does hold back for a moment.
COMBATSYS: Ayame focuses on her next action.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\0 Ayame
Riko's eyes are closed, tightly shut.
It's a simple fact that one's vision can only adjust so fast. Turning on the lights brings additional illumination to the room - but it also is exceedingly disorienting for someone going straight from near-darkness to near-daylight. As soon as Riko discerned Ayame's intent, she made /sure/ her eyes were shut.
But the prospect of fighting blind doesn't seem to bother her. Or if it does, she doesn't show it.
Riko's still moving.
She never stopped.
She's resting on one spot, having come to a halt after that crunching impact with Ayame - all her velocity transferred in smashing the other girl away. But that doesn't mean she's not in motion. That duffle bag, now, is loosely held over one shoulder.
Riko's other arm is pointing at Ayame.
Her fingers spread, her hand cocked in a deliberate pose.
And by now, the key is already halfway to the thief.
With her back literally against the wall, Ayame's defensive options -must- be limited.
At least, that's Riko's theory.
The slim piece of metal flashes through the air. The same key she used to unlock the office door, moments ago. Waste not, want not.
Time to test that theory.
COMBATSYS: Ayame overcomes Sudden Fling from Riko with Sudden Fling.
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Riko 0/-------/------=|=======\-------\0 Ayame
Having a hard time seeing, but not blind; willing to keep her eyes open and cope with the immediate shift than risk dealing with the roller-blading girl with her eyes closed. The knives are released, allowed to drop to the floor, sparing not even the split second it takes to put them away when she wants to.
Right hand meets left wrist in a blur. And then a fling. The key intended to ping her knocked upward by a sharp little kunai that drives onward in a straight line for Riko.
The blonde extends her left hand, fingers cupped, the key coming to rest in the center of her palm. "Thanks, but I don't think I'll need this anymore." she remarks, closing her hand over it, crouching down to snag one of her knives back off the carpetted floor with her right hand.
COMBATSYS: Riko endures Ayame's Sudden Fling.
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Riko 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Ayame
Too fast.
No time to dodge. No time to block.
Just...
Riko /catches/ the knife, the blade slashing into her hand. Immediately, of course, she begins to bleed, as the edge slashes through her glove into the flesh beneath. But almost as quickly, a blue spark of light plays around her injured hand, cauterising the wound.
Riko flips the kunai round, her fingers still flickering with blue energy. It dances down the length of the blade.
Her eyes are still closed.
But she looks directly at Ayame.
"Seishirou-sama," Riko murmurs, "booby-traps /his/ weapons..."
She moves. Speeding across the office floor, rolling at Ayame.
"...to stop people..."
Faster, faster, faster, heading straight at the other girl. The blade flashes forward, trailing electricity as Riko uses it not as a knife, but a -lightning rod-, blasting to Ayame's face.
"...FROM DOING THIS!"
COMBATSYS: Riko successfully hits Ayame with Light Fantastic.
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Riko 0/-------/----===|=======\==-----\1 Ayame
Ayame doesn't think anything of the small blade being caught. If the girl wishes to cut herself needlessly, what concern of it is to her after all...
Apparently, a /lot/. The small fighter is watched as she comes skating back at her and Ayame braces, watching her movement, following her hand carefully, already calculating the distance Riko can reach with it based on the length of her arm and the extra reach the kunai will add, so that she knows exactly when to move.
But that's what she gets for overthinking things, missing the other way the small weapon might be put to use. As something to channel a lot of power through - which is what ends up striking her in the face, the girl realizing only too late to move what the real nature of the attack was. Blasted with the powerful jolt, Ayame hits the wall a second time. She's getting a lot of practice at that by now, though, and this time she manages to keep standing.
Booby-trap her weapons. It's good advice, and one she's taking to heart now. Her bags have always been trapped, but the contents thereof? Not before, anyway. Unfortunately for her, there are no signs of regenerative healing going on. No gradual recovery from the burn marks that mar her complexion. She's never had any kind of training that would teach her anything of the sort. But she can tell that the same limitation doesn't exist for the smaller kid.
Dropping the knive to the floor again, her hand goes to the larger, looser belt around her waist, undoing its clasp and pulling on it to reveal it to be a coiled whip of a few feet in length. Two lessons learned. Don't make idle threats against even small foes. And booby trap her weapons. Fair enough.
But she doesn't say a word. The next sound following the click of a clasp undone is of a thin cord tearing through the air on trajectory with the level of Riko's neck. If the younger girl isn't fortunate enough to get out of the way in time, Ayame will push off from the wall to flip behind her, pulling the strangling cord tighter while bringing her right foot up and driving it against Riko's lower back, literally trying to bend her backward into the hold.
COMBATSYS: Riko interrupts Blackmail from Ayame with Improvised Tactics EX.
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Riko 0/-------/--=====|=======\======-\1 Ayame
The cord loops round Riko's neck.
It grows taut, slicing into her throat, snapping her head back, her muscles and vertabrae forced to strain against the abuse.
At the same time, Ayame's foot slams into the girl's spine, propelling her forward.
All in all, a singularly unpleasant place to be.
One thing, though.
There's one more lesson Riko's got for Ayame, if she's game to listen.
Albeit one she probably already knows.
Still, there's a difference between ideal and praxis.
Ready?
Always think ahead.
/Tactics is life./
All this time, Riko's kept one hand round the straps of that duffle bag. It's been slung on her back. A black shape of canvas and zippers, bulging just so to reveal a distinct stock, grip, and muzzle. The shape of a weapon.
Ayame asked if it was the prototype weapon under development in this building. The weapon she came to steal.
Riko never answered that question.
She answers it now.
The ninja girl tugs on the straps of the bag. Tugs just /so/.
The gun inside the duffle /discharges/.
Not with the smell of propellant, not with the sound of a gunshot. But rather the muted hiss of highly compressed gas and the sound of a grappling hook leaving its launcher.
Intended for Riko's getaway from the outside of the office tower, it instead fires...
...into Ayame's gut.
She's got her now. Just pull the cord a bit tighter, keep her foot in place. Her strength will diminsh with time, then Ayame will be able to resolve this little mess and carry on with no problem.
It's a tough holdto get out of, her own leg used to allow her to stay far enough back to be hard to retaliate against. Unless, of course, one remembers to bring a grappling hook gun. The hook lanches through the side of the bag. Ayame's own hold keeps her stuck as well. Standing on one foot, hands around the corded whip handle, she has no where to go other than straight backward, crashing into the desk, flipping up and over it to land hard on the other side. If she had been lucky, she could've landed seated right back ino the comfy leather chair. But luck really hasn't been on her side here.
There's no noise from behind the desk for a moment besides the groan of a dazed, wounded teen girl. Then an intake of breath, a hiss of coping with a whole lot of ow delivered in not very much time. "Why didn't you just say so," she growls. Then a shuffle of movement.
And then she jumps, leaping over the desk much like the first time. This time she thinks she knows more of what she's dealing with. No warnings. No non-leathel attacks. Just that whip again, though it's coming from Ayame's left hand, lashing out in an attempt to entangle Riko's arm so that Ayame can both pull apart her guard and keep her grounded all at the same time. It's all about creating a window where none seems to be - an opening for her right hand to come in. Armed with a serrated old fashioned iron war fan, Ayame will use her open chance to deliver a series of slashes, cuts, and gashes. The edge is a sharp as any knive, but jagged as well. It isn't for making clean cuts, to say the least. Sides, thighs, arms, only to finish with the weapon leveled at Riko's neck, pulling the whip tighter, attempting to keep the girl locked down. Problem is, she doesn't even know what to do do with her if she catches her /anyway/. But hurting her seemed like a good idea!
COMBATSYS: Riko endures Ayame's Grand Theft Your Heart!
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Riko 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Ayame
It is a good idea.
Really.
Totally understandable. Cathartic violence is probably just what Ayame needs right now. It'd put her soul at ease. Or something.
Pity that Riko's such an insensitive bitch.
Oh, certainly, the whip snaps round Riko's arm, coiling and coiling over the limb. The ninja girl doesn't go anywhere as the war fan slashes into her either, slicing through her raincoat, tearing into her flesh.
The odd thing, though, is that when the fan withdraws, there's no trace of blood on the serrated edges. Just smoke, wisping from the blade.
A faint crackle of blue surrounds Riko's form, dancing round her body, cauterising the wounds and destroying any blood that's slipped from them.
There's a very simple reason for that.
No forensic evidence.
Most people wouldn't worry about such a thing, not when faced with lethal force.
Riko?
She arches an eyebrow at Ayame.
She doesn't say a word.
Instead, she hauls on the bag again. The duffle's ripped on one end, where the grappling hook shot out. A line runs from the muzzle of the launcher to the hook, lying on the floor near the fallen desk.
And now that line retracts, reeling back into the spool /almost/ as fast as it spun from it. And the heavy metal spike at the other end, grappling arms deployed, lashes wildly with the movement - heading to the back of Ayame's skull.
COMBATSYS: Riko successfully hits Ayame with Chaos Tactics EX.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|=======\==-----\1 Ayame
The fan pulled back, the girl simply keeps it leveled at Riko's neck from a foot away, out of breath, her left hand holding tight to the whip's handle. All she does is try to catch her breath. The girl doesn't have anything Ayame wants as far as she knows. All she's done is smack her around, waste her time, and resulted in enough noise being made to make sticking around any longer just a giant risk. Surely by now someone's had to have heard something.
Which is why there's that look of rare confusion in her eyes as she finds herself at a complete loss as to what to do now. Her mind operates around doing things that get her something, and having already spent her anger trying to give the interference something to remember her by, she really doesn't seem to have any idea what to do with her. Is she supposed to let her go? Slash her some more for the hell of it? Tie her up and leave her here as a distraction so she can try to finish the botched mission anyway?
She's saved the trouble of deciding, though, as the hook comes careening back, colliding with the back of her head with enough force to knock her forward directly toward the young ninja. What little adrenaline driven strength kept her going this long gives up on her now though as she falls limp, hand releasing the whip to leave it hanging from Riko's arm, the bladed fan rattling on the floor next to Ayame's feet.
COMBATSYS: Ayame takes no action.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Ayame can no longer fight.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|
"Hm," Riko muses, as she sidesteps the limp body heading for her. She lets Ayame spill over the carpet, looking down at the other girl.
Meanwhile, her grappling hook finishes retracting all the way into the launcher, clicking home upon the muzzle with a faint metallic sound. Adjusting her grip on the bag, shouldering it more securely, Riko rolls forward over the carpeted floor. She pauses at the wrecked desk. Crouching, she retrieves a pen and post-it pad. It's a work of a moment to scrawl something. She rips off the top piece of post-it, flicking it gently at Ayame - so the adhesive side lands on the other girl's back.
"Call me," Riko says, simply.
Then she leaps up to the ceiling, works the skylight latch, and vanishes into the night.
COMBATSYS: Riko has ended the fight here.
Dazed, the blonde is only vaguely aware of what Riko has to say. Breathing hard, her head aching, and her ears ringing after getting brained by the retracting hook, it's all she can do to push herself back up slowly. One hand reaches behind her head to rest against where she got knocked hard, wincing as she pulls her fingers back with some blood on them.
Breathing in, her expression cools as she gets to her feet. Feeling sorry for herself isn't really in her nature. Figuring out how to recover from a disaster, on other hand, very much is. A lap is made around the room, collecting her knives, the fan, the whip, returning them to their proper places. She hasn't quite finished when there's a rattle of the door handle and the sound of someone kicking at it, clearly trying to get in. Shouts calling for backup follow immediately. The girl looks confused for a moment before she smirks. It would seem the first guard to get there is the one with a missing key.
By the time his backup arrives and gets the door open, Ayame is already on the roof. Of her presence there's evidence a plenty. Blood for starters, strands of long hair, and of course all the damage. But she's never been one to worry about foresnics much, as outside of a minor incident with mall security, she's never been caught long enough to really understand the implications of leaving such an evidence trail.
The alarms sound, lights turning on all around the premises, but by the time people get outside, the girl has already vacated. She's actually some blocks away, reviewing every last detail about the scuffle with the girl, figuring out where hesitation cost her, or falsely trying to predict her chatoic attacks left her vulnerable to the less predictable ones.
Far off in the harbor, seated inside an empty shipping crate, the girl finally stops to catch her breath. It's only in the process of reviewing that she finally gets back to what Riko said at the end. 'Call me.' Ayame's brow furrows. How is she supposed to do that? And what for? She reviews the sequence again, remembering the sound of a pen scribbling against a pad. The sound of the sticky adhesive being pulled apart.
It's with a slow blink that she reaches behind her, her hand brushing across the note. Fingers pluck the paper off and pull it forward. Now it's her turn to raise an eyebrow.
Log created on 14:38:19 11/22/2007 by Ayame, and last modified on 14:16:28 11/23/2007.