Description: It's the flashiest of flashy SNF's! Only, there's no actual... flashing... going on, even though there is a little Brit on Brit action. With the third opponent missing, the son of a Duke and the punk rock princess to battle it out and try to boost the ratings of SNF all by themselves. Here's hoping this FLASHY match did the trick. (Winner: Arika)
The Pantheon, what a lovely place!
"Fookin' ripped it off, they have."
Enter Preston Alistair Wellington the II, the supposed Junior League champion, who has arrived well on time for the festivities. The instructions for the fight have been very clear. Be flashy; win the crowd over.
"Who gives a fuck about them?"
His opinion, offered to the fight's director, didn't really bring about much of a response. He was summarily moved off into makeup, where after a lot of shouting, they've sent him out onto the field of battle. There amidst the pillars and steps, and an anticipating crowd, the burly Brit stands at the ready.
In a pair of black slacks that might just be covered in glitter. His bare body otherwise glistens.
With the Junior League belt hanging over one shoulder.
He glances at it, and then scratches his head. "What the fuck is this thing for?" he asks, but since he's in the middle of the arena, there's really no one to answer him.
Oar is there?!
Yes, that's his oar slung over his shoulders, but it's unlikely to offer him a sensible response.
COMBATSYS: Preston has started a fight here.
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Preston 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Arika has joined the fight here.
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Arika 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Preston
Of all the...
Arika is typically fine with the silly premises they have for Saturday Night Fight. Really. She is. Having two well known British people duking it out for their country... in another country? In -France-? It's a bit of a stretch, even for her prolific imagination. Then again, her issues could just be stemming from the fact that this is her first real step back into the spotlight since before the whole Jinchuu debacle and nerves are getting to her.
Glamour and glitz, she can handle in abundance, though. To up the ratings, she's thrown on one of her wrestling get-ups. Black leather bikini-style outfit, silver sequins and studs curving around the hemming. Open-backed black mid-calf wrestling boots and to make it even more fun? Armwarmers decorated with white and silver fringe hanging down.
Tossing her hair over her shoulders, she cuts a path through the crowd waving at them as she goes, hoping to use them to bolster her confidence. Reaching the area where the fight is to take place, she shoots a look to Preston Alistair Wellington II, and rolls her eyes. "Nice get up, mate, but keep in mind, you ain't really good enough to be Bowie."
Stretching back, she asks, "Where's Schroedinger?"
The question is barely out of her mouth when the official nods his head that things are about to begin.
Two steps are taken toward the oar-boy, and she begins to bop her head from side to side. A third step, and her head is in full swing. A large circle is made to the right. Then another. Closing distance rapidly, she swings her head in a circular motion a third time and then leaps up and slams it toward Preston's forehead as quickly as she can manage.
Might as well try to start things off with a bang.
COMBATSYS: Preston endures Arika's Harmonic Headbang.
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Arika 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Preston
When Arika makes her appearance, there's somewhat of an elevator eyes thing happening from Preston as he spots the opponent. Can he really be blamed? The crowd, French though they are, seem to be loving it as well.
Questions are asked, but with the beginning of the fight there's no time for him to answer them when his opponent walks up and starts headbanging.
His eyes roll. He just stands there as Arika's head is driven into his own.
Not even budging an inch, the Brit finally replies even as he lashes out. It's his hand aiming for her throat, to keep her in the air and struggling for breath. "Don't care enough to be Bowie, plus I ain't no fuckin' singer," he says the words, as his free hand beckons.
The crowd may enjoy the sight of his opponent, but the flash begins with the taller Brit. The air behind him shimmers as shards of white-blue manifest, chi taking on a physical form as more and more appear -- until there's practically a ring of dangling weapons there in the air.
"As for the Kraut, he couldn't make it. Stomach bug, some shit like that," Preston finishes the response, regardless of whether he's caught his singing / wrestling / whatever opponent with that seeking hand. The shards descend in rapid succession, aiming to slash into the short girl!
COMBATSYS: Arika blocks Preston's Cape Horn Fever.
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Arika 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Preston
If being stared at actually bothered the diva, she'd likely not be up in front of crowds, singing her heart out. So, when her opponent gives her that once over, she just kind of smirks at him.
But he never budges while she slams her head into his. That gets a blink from her and a perturbed look as she rubs her forehead. Before she hits the ground though, his hand is lashing out for her throat and she's automatically throwing her hands up to pry it from her. Two things you just don't mess with where the punk princess is concerned, and one of those is her throat.
"'course you ain't a singer. Singers don't carry security blankets 'round with'em." A slight nod of her head is offered toward the oar.
Then the air flashes. Energy weapons form in the air.
Arika breaks herself free from his grasp and manages to duck under her arms, allowing them to take the majority of the damage, while she attempts to stand her ground.
"Oh, goody. Looks like we've got a lil' one on one action then, don't we, mate."
The crowd is cheering loudly, now that things are under way. Through the cheers, she picks up on the clapping of hands and stomping of feet and uses these to begin moving her body in a sinuously rhythmic fashion. Feet bounce from one to the other and she twirls around once. Facing oar-boy again, she winks. Then she twists herself into a full pirouette, bringing her right leg up as she does so. As she comes out of the circular motion, she lashes her foot out toward his torso in a quickly snapped roundhouse.
COMBATSYS: Preston interrupts Rhythmic Roundhouse from Arika with Queen's Regulations.
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Arika 0/-------/--=====|===----\-------\0 Preston
There's a definite growl from the burly Brit as Arika ducks out of his grip and manages to bolster her defense in time for the strike. Mentally, he notes that he should chat less and attack more quickly. Very promptly, he takes that advice to heart as the next attack comes his way.
Watching as his opponent swings with the music, he bides his time and waits. The play is almost predictable to him.
And as soon as he sees that wink, he swings into action rather literally.
The tip of her toe strikes his foot at about the same time as his oar swings in for her head, a clipping blow designed to disorientate and upset. Moving with a speed a man his size simply shouldn't have, Preston drives his fist into her middle, keeping her afloat for the moment with his considerable strength.
It's the oar that comes through one more time, to slide right through her legs in a rather vicious strike, to send her for a flip down to the ground. What should have been a somewhat devastating strike has been turned rather neatly.
Standing with his back to Arika, Preston lifts the oar and slants it over his shoulders again. "Security blanket? Don't fuckin' fool yaself there, luv, you know precisely what this thing is." Well, it's an oar, obviously. But moreso, it's a very potent weapon in his hands. He lifts it high, twirling it over his head to the roar of the crowd as he turns to face her again.
"And one-on-one action might be right up your alley sweetheart, but I still remember you cryin' ya little eyes out in a forest. Come try me again when you're not spoken for."
And then he returns the wink.
Damnit!
See, Arika is always the one telling everyone not to give a clue as to when they're going to strike and she just -had- to wink at him to try and get him going.
It worked.
Just not in the way she'd hoped it would.
Dazed by the oar clip to the head, she attempts to block the fist from crashing into her stomach but misses by a fraction of a second.
"Ooof."
This might have flown her across the arena toward the crowd, but that damnable oar is at it once more. In the end, she finds herself on the floor, staring up at the ceiling with a pained smirk on her face.
"Security blanket. Show me you can fight without it, I'll agree it's a weapon."
His second comment gets her rolling her eyes as she leaps back up to her feet. "Like I've said before, you just ain't my type." As for being spoken for? She lets that comment slide for the moment as she begins to race back toward him.
Sliding her feet along the floor to gain velocity, she presses down on her right foot and forces herself into the air a little ways. Fixing Preston with a steely gaze she shakes her head, seconds before jabbing her right fist toward his mouth.
"Ain't really spoken for, not that it's any of your business."
As she begins to descend, an exceedingly bright violet light envelopes her left hand. Tendrils of the energy snake off behind her as she slams the hand forward, palm first toward his chest.
COMBATSYS: Arika successfully hits Preston with Diva Allegro.
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Arika 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Preston
There's a definite roll of his eyes at the responses given to him. Preston mustn't think much of his opponent at the rate they're going, but for once she gets him on the back foot. The feint at his face does the trick; the follow-up strikes him dead on in the chest, despite his attempt to rally his defenses.
Taking a step or two back as the energy disperses through and around his body, the burly Brit issues a sour grunt as he asserts his physical dominance. A foot slams down, and his backwards passage ceases. "Ya right, it ain't none of my business. Good thing you've moved on from bein' with losers though," he adds, a smirk gracing his features.
The crowd wants fireworks, and it seems that they're about to get them. Fight without his oar? Perhaps in time, but for the moment the Brit simply keeps on, heedless of the attempt to dig into him verbally about it.
Sliding backwards, the oar comes up and then goes higher. Swinging it over his head in broad strokes, he seeks to drive Arika backwards as the tip of it whistles for her -- but ah, that's not the problem she faces! The shaft of the weapon glows, and in its wake a series of crescents appear in the air, white-blue just as the prior attempt on her life!
The third crescent manifests, and then they all converge for the target!
At this point though, Preston figures Arika's 'type' is women.
COMBATSYS: Arika dodges Preston's White Horses.
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Arika 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Preston
Now Preston has just -happened- to touch upon the second thing you just -don't- mess with where the punk princess is concerned.
Deep blue eyes flare angrily at the boy with the oar as he smirks. Physically biting her tongue to keep from retorting, she edges backward just as the oar whistles at her. Focusing on the glowing crescents, she waits until they reach the point of convergence. Moments before the energy is about to strike her and send her flying into the crowd, she dances out of the way avoiding the danger.
"'e ain't a loser," she comments after slipping away from the attack. "'e just ain't really speaking for me."
So, no. Arika's 'type' is not women. It is, apparently, non-committal models who like to play the field.
Thus, she's trying to hold back from just going completely insane on Preston for insulting Drake in that manner and she backs off. Teeth nip into her tongue again, and she takes a deep breath just sending him another icy glare.
COMBATSYS: Arika gains composure.
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Arika 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Preston
Pushing buttons on people is precisely what Preston excels at, and he's playing Arika like a harmonica right now -- although if he played any instrument, it'd probably have more to do with percussion. There's a definite smirk on his face as he lets the oar return to his side, lifting it to slant across his broad shoulders.
Staring down at the glaring girl, the burly Brit actually offers a grin of delight. "Am I hittin' a nerve?" he asks lightly, voice pitched for her and not the crowd. It seems that this is the intermission, and some of the crowd is indeed headed for the lobby to get themselves a treat.
He lifts the oar up over his head to draw the crowd back over, but he doesn't launch another attack. Not yet, at least.
"So why you lettin' me get under ya skin so much there, luv?" he inquires, brows lifting as he points out his way of playing her emotions.
COMBATSYS: Preston focuses on his next action.
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Arika 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Preston
Twitch.
Arika just continues to glare at the male Brit, trying to stare him down in return.
"No."
Monosyllabic responses are usually her forte, and it is perhaps time she got back to giving them instead of trying to hold any semblance of conversation during this match. After inhaling deeply once more, she exhales slowly and begins to edge toward him. It actually looks like she's planning on tip-toeing right up to him.
Until she begins to move with an alarming rate and attempts to skirt behind him.
Looks like intermission is over, folks. Better get back to your seats.
Once behind him, she launches herself skyward once more. This time, however, she's making an effort to latch herself to his back. Managing this, her fists will come out in full swing.
Hey, he's the one who thought about percussion instruments. Could be, the punk princess is just reading his mind. Could just be coincidence that she's decided to try and use his skull as a makeshift bongo drum.
COMBATSYS: Preston endures Arika's Drum Solo.
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Arika 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Preston
If there's one thing to be said about using Preston's head as a bongo, it's this;
You're going to get good rhythm.
Seemingly paralyzed by the approach of those island rhythms, the Brit stands his ground, turning as Arika runs around him. It's not that easy to get behind him, not when he's watching and waiting for it -- and of course, it comes with a leap to latch onto him.
Some would consider it a mistake to get too close to the volatile son of a Duke. The smirk on his face grows as those fists come up and then come smashing down for his body. It's nearly enough to daze him, but he was ready for it.
Again, it seems that he's seeking her throat out though, to give a debilitating crush as he seeks to simply slam her down into the ground. He doesn't need the oar for this, so he simply holds it wide as he makes the attempt.
Should Arika be unlucky enough to find herself slammed into the ground, it's only the beginning. That bikini of hers is likely to prove rather useful as a burst of water-laced chi slams down his arm and into her torso!
And if all of that's successful, which is certainly a big if by this stage, he leaps away with a laugh.
COMBATSYS: Preston successfully hits Arika with Keelhauling.
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Arika 1/----===/=======|=======\=------\1 Preston
He... he twisted around?
Too late to reconsider what she's about to do, the punk princess finds herself latched to his front. Now, normally this wouldn't bother her in the least, but considering the conversation they were having previously...
Thankfully, she's really not got much of a chance to dwell on it, as he's busy crushing her throat. Granted, she's quite used to being grabbed in choke-holds, so it's not as though he's going to break any delicate little bones, but that doesn't stop it from hurting. A strangled grrk can be heard before he releases her. Hitting the ground isn't -so- bad, really. Happens a lot when one wrestles more frequently than one boxes (and she really -should- make sure to see if she can fit some training in with Dudley at some point since she's not exactly in top form right now).
No, what gets her is the flowing water-chi that slams into her body.
Despite all of that though, the diva is actually smiling.
Arika -knows- she looks good when she's all wet, and this match is all about ratings, isn't it? So, she does what any self-respecting diva might.
She begins to throw a fit.
Mostly for show, she tosses her soaking wet hair behind her and makes a sniffly little pout. Hands settle to her hips and she indignantly huffs, "'ow dare you?!" Preston can likely see that she's smiling somewhat, but the majority of the crowd is likely to miss it.
Shooting a look over her shoulder at the crowd she bats her lashes and then sniffles again and gets up to her feet. Dropping her right shoulder down a few inches, she turns to face the closest camera and then blows it a kiss. Lifting her left arm out to the side of her body, she makes as though she's holding the neck of an electric guitar. Mimicking her favorite power chord, she 'strums' the strings on the faux-air guitar and lets her lashes fall closed over her eyes.
At that moment, a bright rainbow of energy explodes around her. Once it does, she peeks her eyes opened again and twists in Preston's direction sending the energy arcing off toward him in a beam of multi-colored chi.
COMBATSYS: Preston blocks Arika's Siren Song.
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Arika 0/-------/----===|=======\==-----\1 Preston
After planting Arika down and hitting her with water, the burly Brit responsible for it sits back and waits for the result. He'd been hoping for a little more up-and-down motion in her tantrum, but he sees through the façade easily enough. It earns another roll of the eyes, although that might just be a grin on his face.
"Oh, I dare a lot of fuckin' things," he replies as expected, perhaps taking the 'heel' motion of the fight as Arika becomes the 'face.' But they're not wrestling, and her air guitar certainly doesn't result in the el kabong she'd been hoping for.
The explosion of chi races for him, but the oar lifts into its path. The majority of the energy is diffused to each side, only the fringes of it hitting him. Preston takes two steps backwards anyway, before he opts to take a number forward.
"Not quite the wet t-shirt contest I'd been hopin' for," the son of a Duke says as he lunges forward, sliding across the marble floors of the Pantheon as he encroaches on Arika's personal space -- by an oar's length!
The weapon whistles through the air as he stabs it forward, a daring thrust meant to catch the (former?!) pop singer square in the middle. But rather than simply lift her afterwards, he puts his all into the thrust, aiming to send her for a tumble into her adoring crowd!
Maybe he'll get lucky and one of them will filch her bikini top.
A man can dream, right?
COMBATSYS: Arika blocks Preston's Bunting Tosser.
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Arika 0/-------/---====|=======\==-----\1 Preston
"Too bad for you I didn't wear the white then, hmm?"
Typical male. Looking for a free show. All it gets is Arika rolling her eyes as she slams her arms together in front of her stomach in order to slow the oar down before it can send her tumbling.
As she's sent sliding backward instead, she catches the eyes of the closest male fans and winks. "Sorry, lads, maybe next time, eh?"
That's when one calls for her autograph.
Oh, sure. She's just in the middle of a fight, but who's she to deny a fan what they want? (Besides, she's really hoping that it'll irk the oar-toting Brit.) Taking the pen from the guy, she lavishly scrawls her name on his tour book and then blows him a kiss.
Peering over her shoulder at Preston, she just waits and watches.
COMBATSYS: Arika gains composure.
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Arika 0/-------/-----==|=======\==-----\1 Preston
Recoiling after the strike into Arika's arms, Preston straightens, allowing the oar to rest at his side again. He rolls his eyes as he sees that the singer is taking timeout for the fans. Really, he's never had to roll his eyes this much before.
But seizing control of any irritation, he simply sits and waits, resting on his laurels as the knuckles on his right finger are cracked in quick succession. He's limbering up for something.
And whatever it is will simply have to wait, as he simply watches Arika in turn.
He's more than simply built like a rock. He's got the patience of one too.
"He's checkin' out your rack," he calls out though, which brings up a rather predictable call from the crowd.
"Show us your ti--"
Preston shakes his head as the chant goes on, oar held in front of him.
COMBATSYS: Preston gains composure.
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Arika 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1 Preston
Snorting, Arika just rolls her eyes (it seems to be a theme of this match, really). "They all do."
The chant from the crowd has her tsking and waggling a finger at them. "Sorry, lads. I ain't -that- kind'a girl."
But it's time to let the fans do what they do best, and time for her to do what she tries to do best. "'sides, it ain't any worse than that look -you- gave me when I came in," the punk princess points out.
Swinging back toward Preston, she lashes an arm out and hops upward attempting to lock it about his throat. A basic stranglehold where she tries to compress upon his upper airway and interfere with his breathing a little.
But wait! There's more!
Should she be successful in her attempt, she twists behind him in order to apply additional pressure by raising her knee into his back and yanking him toward her to stretch his body a little.
COMBATSYS: Arika successfully hits Preston with Diva Attaca.
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Arika 0/-------/---====|=======\==-----\1 Preston
"You put the girls on show, they're gonna get looked at," Preston replies with a grin, and actually allows his eyes to wander once more as he waits for it. In this case though, he waits a little too long though, as she leaps for him.
The arm goes about his neck despite his attempt to get the hell out of the way. It's one of those rare feats, where the Brit actually finds himself caught by an opponent in a precarious predicament if ever there was one.
A sour grunt is all he manages as she locks the hold on, driving her knees into his back to further take his breath away.
But that's a song for another time.
With his chin down hard against Arika's arm, he manages to huff and puff, somewhat like a caged bull. One of those massive arms of his reaches back, aiming to catch the poor girl -- and then, despite her leverage, he aims to simply power through!
Really needing breath at this stage, Preston's goal is simple. Rip Arika right off his back, and then hold her at arm's length, potentially upside down, as he delivers the mother of all head-butts directly into her chest, the proverbial bull using the horns!
And if that doesn't get the crowd hollering, the goring follows through into a massive uppercut, aimed to send Arika end over end for the pillars that ring their fighting arena!
COMBATSYS: Preston successfully hits Arika with Bull of Barney.
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Arika 1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Preston
"Wot? You think they're on show? Puh-lease! They're covered just fine, thank you!"
Arika has a flair for dressing provocatively, sure. She's never once stooped so low as to fight topless though, and she never will so long as she can help it.
Drawing her arm back tighter against his neck, she shifts a little in order to position herself for a finisher. Getting her arm into position, she prepares to force him onto his stomach.
Suddenly she's yanked off of him.
Squeaking in surprise, she finds herself dangling upside down. "Oh, this is so not good..."
As if getting hit in the chest like that wasn't bad enough, getting thrown back by the uppercut is like adding insult to injury. Flying ass-over-tea kettle toward the pillars, the diva braces herself for impact.
THUD.
Sliding down to the ground head first, she groans and just kind of flops over.
The crowd falls silent as she doesn't seem to move.
One hand settles to the floor. Then the other. Pushing herself back up to her feet, she just gives Preston a dazed sort of smirk. As though to say 'nice showing but I'm not down for the count yet'. Wiping her brow, she looks back to the crowd and motions for them to begin their cheering again.
Most seem happy to oblige.
Rushing forward, she attempts to sneak behind Preston again, though this time she goes to reach around his body with her right leg in order to hold him in position. Wrapping her arm around one of his seems to be her ultimate goal - forcing it upward. Really, it's just because from her current locale it's easier to reach his arm than it is to try wrapping his neck up again.
Forming a claw with her left hand, she attempts to grip into his stomach and apply an over-abundance of pressure until she can force him down to the floor on his side.
COMBATSYS: Preston blocks Arika's Dominant Diva.
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Arika 0/-------/-------|===----\-------\0 Preston
"If I can see 'em, they're on show," is about all Preston has to say on the topic. This is after Arika has been summarily uppercutted clear across the room, naturally!
Resting against his oar, the Brit simply waits to see what, if anything, the opposing Briton will muster. It's almost an interesting situation for him, being forced by the producers to do nothing but show a substantial amount of flair -- but for the most part, he seems to be doing it rather well.
With her getting back up though, the oar is lifted, and he waits for the attack. "Still got some sugar left in the tank, huh luv?" he asks her, the smirk there on his face as she charges for him. Again, she seeks to grab him from behind. While there's a joke to be made there, Preston doesn't make it, simply waiting her out.
Again he twists -- and while she grips his leg and his arm, the attempt to muscle him and apply that pressure simply falls short as he flexes his own substantial bulk, nullifying her attempt -- if not powering through HER instead!
With a roar, Preston flexes every muscle on his body to free himself, and skitters away. "Oh, c'mon luv, what are you thinkin'? You don't have the bloody strength to knock me down, and you know it full and well." Boast or otherwise, the crowd drinks it up, hooting and hollering. They must be able to sense that the fight is reaching its climax.
Lifting the oar high above his head, he slams it down with an emphatic thump. The marble flooring cracks as the weapon is wedged into place. Gripping the shaft with both hands, the son of a duke winks.
Ripping the weapon up in an arc, he sends sheer, physical force splintering through the ground in Arika's direction. The cracks creep rapidly towards her, spewing chips and chunks of marble as a wave of rolling earth -- or more aptly, flooring -- thunder towards the diminutive rocker!
COMBATSYS: Arika blocks Preston's Devil Seam.
[ \\\\ < > //////// ]
Arika 0/-------/------=|===----\-------\0 Preston
Oh, there's likely plenty of jokes to be made all around.
Come on! There's definitely got to be -something- said about the fact that the bloody large Brit likes to handle and thrust the shaft of that oar all around. Over compensating for a lack perhaps?
"You'd better 'ope someone is payin' for this," she mutters, ducking her head down toward her chest and using her arms to cover her once more. While it doesn't stop the pieces of flooring from thundering into her, it does protect her face.
Arika is tired though, and it's beginning to show. She's used to handling flashiness on the singing stage, not something like this. Staggering back toward him she musters, "Might not 'ave the sheer size, no... but damned if I'm goin' down for the count just yet..." And with that, she sends her right fist out toward his torso. A quick jab, likely about to dent him as much as a mosquito can dent an elephant. Again, this is followed through with her shield hand. Energy of a bright violet hue envelopes her hand, the color trailing behind it as it slams forward with as much force as she can muster in the hopes of knocking him back toward the cheering crowd.
COMBATSYS: Arika successfully hits Preston with Diva Allegro.
[ \\ < > ///// ]
Arika 0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0 Preston
Someone had better be paying for this other than Preston himself, because the kid ain't got no job! Then again, being the son of a Duke is likely to help isn't it... isn't it?! Regardless, it seems the battle is far from over as the thundering wave of debris doesn't quite do the trick.
Breathing hard, the burly Brit squints at Arika as the girl stumbles over towards him. The two must certainly have a fair bit in common right now. Being forced to be flashy does a number on one's cardiovascular.
There's a half-hearted attempt on his part to put up a defense, but she manages to pierce it this time; the hand slams into him, knocking him back to the jeers and cheers of the crowd itself. The would-be beauty is being knocked around!
Boy that makes Arika the beast!
"Remind me," he gasps the words, straightening to lift the oar for what might just be the final time; "to never sign up for a fight like this again."
If he lives through the end of it, he'll likely be in much better shape! But he needs to survive, and that isn't very likely at this stage. Going for broke, he falls back on old friends. The oar whistles for her scalp, just once this time -- but it's intended to fall just short yet again!
The wave of chi that follows the attack is what she's going to have to deal with, and it's flagging at best by this stage of the fight!
COMBATSYS: Preston successfully hits Arika with White Horses.
[ < > //// ]
Arika 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Preston
"Don't think... you -actually-... signed up for... this one, mate," Arika gasps, trying to control her breathing so that it's even. She barely manages to get the words out as the oar is coming at her once again. Hands shoot up to stop it, but they're met by a very strong wave of energy that sends her down to the floor on her knees.
"Not... done... yet..."
Though she has absolutely -no- energy left what so ever, the punk princess is pushing herself up to her feet once more. She knows her style is actually a lot less flashy than his, and right now she doesn't care. All she wants to do is get in one last attempt at bringing him down before conceding the win to him.
Footing is swaggery, and she nearly falls twice before she holds her balance. There's very little flash or flair with this move. Feet simply bounce back and forth to keep her balance steady. A quick full-body twist and then her foot swings out in order to attempt implanting itself into his stomach.
Afterward, she simply follows through with the kick and crashes to the floor on her knees, trying to catch her breath.
COMBATSYS: Arika has reached second wind!
[ \\\ < > //// ]
Arika 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Preston
COMBATSYS: Preston interrupts Rhythmic Roundhouse from Arika with Queen's Regulations.
[ <
Arika 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: Preston can no longer fight.
[ <
Arika 0/-------/-======|
To put it simply; Arika gets swatted out of the air by the oar.
To write it a bit more prose-like, the doggedly persistent Brit (and at this stage, which of them is that?) watches as the singer gets back up after catching the vicious edge of his energetic oar. Tucking the weapon to one side, Preston watches and waits; he knows she's got one last strike in her.
They always do.
In this case, it's a miracle that she manages that flipping kick. At the same time though, there's very little elegance in the way that Preston simply brings the oar thundering down into her, to slam her down into the broken flooring and ideally keep her there!
But her foot did manage to find the mark, and nursing an upset stomach, the son of a duke stumbles backwards and then sits down on his rear. He heaves a breath, and then lies down fully, apparently not about to get back up until he catches his breath entirely!
"Enough... had enough... fuck this noise... fuckin' fans..."
Oh, it's a good thing they can't hear him right now, over their roars and cheers!
But will the pop singer get up to claim the prize?!
COMBATSYS: Arika takes no action.
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COMBATSYS: Arika has reached third wind!
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CRACK.
And down the diva goes.
Crumpling to the floor, Arika brings a hand up to her skull to make sure that blasted oar hasn't splintered it's way into her brain. Satisfied that she remains intact, she lays there for a few minutes.
Hearing his admission is enough for her though.
He's had enough.
This means, if she can just muster the energy to push herself up to her feet once more she can win this against all the odds.
So, that's exactly what she does.
"Time to make the Stars proud," she whispers to herself. Just loud enough so that she can force herself into action. It takes a few attempts, but she finally manages to get up to her feet and call out, "This is for you, Drake!"
Clutching her stomach, she bends forward and inhales deeply while waving one arm in the air in a victorious manner. It may not be official yet, but with oar-boy not getting up she's pretty certain the officials are going to call it.
COMBATSYS: Arika has ended the fight here.
Log created on 20:23:42 11/26/2007 by Arika, and last modified on 01:17:01 11/27/2007.