Description: So a thief, loud-mouthed high school student and sassy 'R' boxer walk into the Young Fighters' Community Center... Guaranteed you haven't heard this one before! Crazy hijinx (and face punchings) found here! (Winner: Marisol)
Ayame really cares nothing for little kids. But Ayame really does like getting paid. Standing in the cleared out floor space, the strawberry-blonde haired girl glances at the bleachers lined with young skulls full of mush, eagerly looking forward to what great advice the trio of fighters brought before them have to offer. The smile she offers them is clearly forced - tight lipped, strained. Her right hand comes to scratch idly at her cheek. The scenario was explained to her, so she gets the premise. Impart invaluable advice to the youths while also shutting Alan up if... when he gets mouthy.
"Heh," the girl sighs, left hand tightening on a six foot long hollow titanium pole in her grip. Light weight but remarkably durable, Ayame polished it tonight so it's somewhat reflecfive in the fluorescent lighting of the large, underground gym. Bleachers line two of the walls, filled with ten year old to fifteen year old boys and girls. Some are dressed up in karate gi's of various colors. Isn't that cute?
Besides the obvious staff in her hands, Ayame also has a coil of wire-thin cabling slung over her right shoulder, a pointed weight hanging from one end while the other end has a more blunt, rounded weight clipped to it. Brown eyes glance over at her opponents. Another girl - a student from Pacific. And Some Guy who seems like he might be recovering from having stuck his hand in a socket if the energy coursing over him is any indication.
"All right, kiddies, listen up." Ayame chirps, managing a bright expression for the poor students of this training session as she taps her staff against her shoulder. "First off, roughly five percent of children die before they make it to eighteen." Her eyes skim the room, taking an instant head count. "Since there's a hundred of you, that means five of you are probably going to die." Pause. "On the other hand, if you pay close attention to the advice given here, maybe you can buck the odds and make it through High School still breathing." She shrugs, still smiling as she spins the staff off her shoulder and enters a defensive fighting stance. "So pay attention. Your life might depend on it."
Saturday Night Fight coordinators have a cruel sense of humor.
Really - whose smart idea was it to pair up the likes of Marisol with another girl to keep the likes of Alan from badmouthing at a group of children? Young, impressionable children, no less! If her previous matches are any indication, the girl has no qualms with slinging her share of insults or foul words. Likely, this will have detrimental effects.
But, maybe, that's precisely what the folks in charge want?
Regardless, Marsiol finds herself staring out into a sea of faces. There's an obvious frown on her face, eyes hooded slightly as her gray eyes survey the scene before her. So we have a bunch of children who want to fight, and three fighters of some repute to guide them. And it would seem that, for now, Ayame has taken up the baton to do precisely that.
So what does Marisol do?
Pulling a cellular phone out from the pocket of her khaki skirt, the girl slightly turns her body to one side and begins to text someone. Slowly but surely a wide, toothy grin crawls across her full lips.
Meanwhile, she purposely ignores anything and everything Alan may very well say. And she's likely not paying any attention to what Ayame is telling the youngsters - instead, she seems far more intent and focused on her sweet-looking cherry-red Chocolate phone.
And rather suddenly at an awkward moment of silence, Marisol cracks up laughing.
"Oh Pás, what won't you do!?"
It's been a while since Alan came to the YFCC, and hilariously, he was there to educate young girls on avoiding harsh gender roles! Of course he was GREAT at that. So now, with a much broader spectrum of potential reprehensibility, imagine what he will get up to!
He is the last to arrive, no matter how long he has to wait for the others to arrive before doing so. Once Marisol has found her way in (perhaps just as she begins texting?!), the door nearest the stage flies open, a heavy boot protruding forward. Slowly, the boot falls forward, and Alan R. B. makes his big-stepping entrance onto the cleared stage area, spinning his small silver chain on his left hand. For a moment, he looks like a reasonably wholesome young man, with a standard grin on his face for an instant before his eyes sweep out to behold the audience - then the grin turns sharp and naaaasty. The blonde man's hand flicks, the chain looping expertly around his wrist and fastening all by itself! It vanishes up his sleeve soon after.
Electricity passes off his right hand in a small arc as he waves to all the ickle kiddies, iron rings already on his fingers, and he begins to speak. "Hello there, children! I'm Alan R. B., star of such famous lines of 'Hey in the second row, is that your mom next to you? Because I would defile her in an instant.' and 'Jesus Christ, fifth seat from the right in the back row, you are like a giant ball of doughnuts, if you're not going into sumo you should just leave immediately.' Remember, people like you more if you are confident, and act like it!"
Oh Pás, what won't you do!? "More like /who,/ am I right?" Alan, who has not had the pleasure of me(a?)eting Pas and therefore really has no idea, wags his eyebrows at Marisol twice before finally settling his gaze on the 'newcomer' to his eyes, Ayame. "Remember kids, first impressions are important. Just watch!" The boxer scratches his shaven chin as he gives her a long looking over, before... snorting. "You know, you really shouldn't let people named Alucurt Darkhallow suggest clothing options. You end up looking like that!"
To Ayame, the SNF events are a form of training. Her first showing was an exercise in not dying to Soul Powered assaults. Last week was a test of her impromptu acting skills for the sake of a poor telenovela. And this week appears to be a test to see if she won't just up and kill someone on broadcast television once and for all.
Marisol is busy with her phone. Ayame kinda likes that model. She might have to take it. Alan's greeting toward the children is observed impassively by her even if he easily gets a rise out of the audience. A couple of the YFCC volunteer staff must be casting awkward glances at each other by now, no doubt questioning this entire premise.
The energetic boxer gets his dig in about her rather terrible assortment in clothing and Ayame just rests her right hand at her hip, relaxing her stance a little. She had thought to expect an attack first, but it looks like none is forthcoming. "Ah, there he is. A little late, but that's normal for his type. Mister Alan here will be demonstrating how one can try compensate for a total lack of ability by flinging around insults and inuendo. Such are common weapons of the feebleminded. Don't be offended class. Just pity him. People like him are special and need our compassion, as undeserving as they may seem of it at first."r
The girl tosses her head once, flipping her long hair back over her shoulder. "Once you find that they're nothing but hot air, it becomes a lot easier to dismiss them as the unimportant losers they are. After this session is over, it would be nice if you could all please donate a portion of your lunch money to the Teach Alan That Light Sockets Are for Plugs, Not His Tongue foundation."
COMBATSYS: Ayame has started a fight here.
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Ayame 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Ayame takes no action.
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Ayame 0/-------/-------|
Even as Alan bursts through the YFCC doors all dramatic-like, Marisol is still playing with her phone, otherwise oblivious to the speech given to the young impressionable children. It's also very likely if Alan had kept his mouth shut (a very unlikely scenario, that), Marisol would have continued TO text on her cellular. Unfortunately, it doesn't work out that way.
When Alan opens his mouth, Marisol makes a point to exhale a loud, put-upon sigh.
Then she hurriedly texts something. She only pauses when he makes it a point to directly speak to Marisol, which earns him a sudden and rather harsh stare. "You don't even know who the hell that is," she barks. "Mind your own business, pervert!" She has texting to do, you see. SNF be damned. This text conversation got interesting.
Again, Marisol texts furiously to the mysterious (?!) Pás. Another long wait.
And then another sudden chirp of laughter.
"Five - no, three inches," she says aloud, as she swiftly inputs the text. Glancing up and over, she pointedly squints at Alan. Then her eyes go back to the phone in her hand as she adds, "But it's thick." Scandal?!
The phone is then softly tucked away into her pocket, gray eyes drawing to a close as she listens in to the conversation between Ayame and Alan. Oh, this is good. Pity him? Marisol snickers, a hand absently reaching up behind her head. In the other hand is a hair tie, which she uses to quickly pull long red locks up and out of the way.
But the latter of Ayame's counter-insult draws an outright laugh from Marisol.
"Ha ha ha ha!! You got told!" she laughs. But, distantly, Marisol realizes they're all here to fight, not gang up on Alan and verbally beat the crap out of him. Well, at least Ayame. No matter, though.
Pushing off her back heel, the girl rather suddenly makes a line for Alan, full lips pulled fiercely over her pearly whites. "Ha ha, long time no see!" she cries, a fist tightly clenched at her chest. Her body only twists as she nears, a punch aimed for his stomach.
"Can't say I missed you! Where were you, prison?"
Should it land, she'll reach up for his head and introduce his face to her knee by way of a fierce jerk of her leg upwards. Then she'll simply shove his face up, a leg shooting up to deliver a nasty vertical kick to his jaw.
COMBATSYS: Marisol has joined the fight here.
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Marisol 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ayame
COMBATSYS: Alan has joined the fight here.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Marisol
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Ayame 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Marisol successfully hits Alan with Chain Reaction.
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Alan 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Marisol
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Ayame 0/-------/-------|
Alan loudly responds to Ayame immediately, "Oh, look at me, I'm just going to pull a base insult at a hypothetical lack of ability out of my little poetry book here!" He pantomimes looking intensely depressed while pulling a piece of paper out of the aforementioned notebook. The pantomime is of such skill you can almost see the skulls with black roses on the binding.
Then he has more important things to worry about, like double-taking toward Marisol. "Th-three?! I think you need to give this lightning rod a little more credit!" He has enough time to snap his fingers in front of a cigarette and lift it to his mouth before Marisol's punch meets his TIGHTLY SCULPTED ABS, eliciting a grunt and a puff of smoke. He keeps a miraculous hold on the cigarette even while being dragged down and kicked in the face, springing back with a somersault, laying down the law even while in midair: "Hey, you know, this and that. My schedule's pretty full these days, what with selling drugs to kindergarteners and flipping off boxes of kittens. - Remember, kids, life is hard, and smack smooths out the road!" Only then does he land, skidding back into a crouch. "Now if you'll give me a moment, babe..."
The crouching Alan suddenly becomes very still, something Marisol is a bit more familiar with, but perhaps Ayame will be caught off-guard. The keen-eyed can see a small electric trail move across the ground in an arc, Alan then slowing down enough to be easily seen just behind her, one fist thrown back. The crouching Alan collapses in a mass of electricity. "...someone needs to learn her something!"
COMBATSYS: Ayame counters Hook Punch from Alan with Bright Renewal.
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Alan 0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0 Marisol
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Ayame 0/-------/------=|
"Seen one blowhard, seen 'em all," Ayame replies with a shrug as Alan accuses of her jumping to conclusions. The staff is hefted, the girl twirling it once and turning to face Alan to regard him coolly only to observe Marisol putting him through the ringer for a bit. "Statistically speaking, little boys grow out of that juvenile behavior by the time they've graduated Middle School, but..." She shrugs a little, "There's always the unfortunate exception."
If she's wise to Alan's remarkable speed it doesn't show at first. That is until the girl jams the metal bo staff backward into his stomach, cutting his assault short. Turning in the opposite direction, she swings the other end of the weapon around a split second later for a follow up leveled for the side of his head.
"Remember class, when all else fails, nothing says shut the hell up like like six feet of titanium." Taking a step backward from him, the girl continues to regard the American boxer. "Secondly, don't let your mouth rattle off checks your ass can't cash." The staff is lifted up to rest against her shoulder again, her right hand going back to resting at her hip.
Alan is indeed a very skilled pantomime; unfortunately, one member of his captive audience is anything but. Finishing up the last of her texts, the girl's lips pull into a devious grin. That ought to do, she assures herself. Already, the active gathering of children murmur loudly amongst themselves, and a few have already begun to cry in abject horror. Parents gathered stare, slack-jaw. On-duty staff members of the YFCC are likely mentally plotting the public apologies they'll probably have to give .
This is probably one of the worst things to happen to the YFCC.
But...
It makes for GREAT ratings!
But the time for chit-chat is over! Making her charge, it seems poor Alan has little, if any, time to get out of dodge. As result, he's punched, kneed and ultimately kicked in the face. On the other hand, he proves more deft than one may presume; midair, he's already regained his sense of balance like some light-footed acrobat.
The half-Spaniard squints a little more.
"Okay, okay. Fine. ...Two." Marisol is clearly willing to compromise.
"And really now! Or are you sure you're not getting shit-beat by your boss again?" she wonders aloud, absently rubbing at her cheek with her index finger. From there, however, gray eyes slowly drift toward the elevated ceiling of the gymnasium, lips pulling into a pensive line across her tanned face. Alan, however, excuses himself to go punch poor Ayame, his form crackling with an overabundance of energy. But it seems he's not swift enough.
Thin brows slightly furrow. That had to hurt, she muses to herself.
No matter. Exhaling, the redhead briefly shuts her eyes, hands curling into loose fists before she snaps them open. "Hey now!" she calls to Ayame with a smirk. "That's not fair. I wanted to publicly humiliate him!" A finger is thrust at Ayame's chest. "And you're upstaging me with your ...pole!"
Smirking, the girl's eyes narrow sharply before she lunges at Ayame, a one-two series of jabs aimed for the girl's face! It's nothing nearly as lethal as poor Alan's attack, but it should serve Marisol's point nicely! ...if any. That's beside the point.
"Head's UP!"
Does it now, Ayame? Clearly, you haven't watched /any/ of Alan's tapes. The only time he's ever come close to shutting up was after Akuma kicked him into a helicopter. Perhaps through is more accurate. AND EVEN THEN--!!
The pole impacts his stomach with a 'whuff' and another cloud of smoke, the sweep managing to ring off of his skull without messing up his hair. It's very difficult to do so. He rolls with the blow, coming back to his feet, spitting some blood out to the side, and... pulling off his shades, wiping dust off of them on the bottom of his vest! He rolls his neck to loosen it up, and gives Ayame one of his patented ultrasneers. "I see, you're one of those girls that just has to get her hands around a long shaft as often as possible. Look at what you're teaching these kids!" He regards the children, shaking his finger. "To the young girls out there, remember: Always make sure to, if nothing else, duck into an alley before giving a handjob, or at least under a coat on a bus stop. Public indecency is a crime!"
He slips his shades on. "Speaking of indecency, third row, right in the middle, your face is extremely indecent. I can only assume you were born upside down, and also your mother stuck a whisk in her special zone at about seven months."
COMBATSYS: Alan gains composure.
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Alan 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Marisol
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Ayame 0/-------/------=|
COMBATSYS: Marisol successfully hits Ayame with Light Punch.
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Alan 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Marisol
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Ayame 0/-------/----===|
Oh boy, Alan's talking still. Must require more violent applications of titanium to get him to shut it, Ayame muses. His sneer in her direction is met with a tight lipped stare back before she smiles ever so faintly, tapping her staff against her shoulder again. "Be that as it may, I had to bring my own, 'cause I suspect two is being too generous in your case."
He goes on to give the children 'helpful' advice about handjobs and Ayame rolls her eyes. What kind of sadist comes UP with these venues anyway? Her eyes pick out the next poor slob to be mocked by Alan and the long haired girl shakes her head a little. He does have a point. That's one ugly kid. "Don't worry," the girl states calmly, right hand coming up to brush her fingernails against her top. "Even dogfaced kids like you can grow up to be something. I mean, look at Mister Alan here. Either he's a hired punching bag intended to fill in for someone legitimate, or he's actually some kind of fighter. So don't feel down. He's just relating to you."
But lecture time comes to an abrupt end as Ayame finds herself being fed a dosage of Marisol's fist. Rather than defend herself with the staff, the girl turns to the side, trying to slip out of the line of fire. But the red head's two jabs connect with the blonde's cheeks, sending her staggering a couple of steps. Ow!
Brown eyes glare back at Marisol as Ayame's left hand rests against her cheek "If you have business with Sparky there, I suggest you take it up with /him/." the girl snaps back. Holding her staff with her left hand, the girl's right hand slips down to one of her belts, producing with a flick of her wrist an opened butterfly knife. Two quick steps forward followed by a swift horizontal slash at stomach level. More of a warning shot than anything vicious. She doesn't know what to make of Marisol yet.
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Marisol with Quick Strike.
- Power hit! -
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Alan 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Marisol
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Ayame 0/-------/---====|
At this point, Marisol has otherwise forgotten about the entire reason for this particular venue. Distantly she recalls there being something to do with Alan and his sass, but beyond that, well. She's already begun to drift off, caught up in the fun and amusement that is punching people in the face.
People like Ayame! Her one-two strikes true, and as result a grin blossoms brightly across her tanned features. But when she gets scolded, the redhead tilts her head slightly to one side, gray eyes narrowing slowly as the girl lectures and reaches for...something. What it is, Marisol doesn't really care.
It's when she slashes at her the girl gets a bit alarmed. Staggering back as she's slashed, the girl's features twist, an expression of anger flooding her face as she turns positively red. "Why you..!" she exclaims, curling her hands into fists. "Who brings a goddamned knife to a fucking fist fight!?"
A mother covers her son's ears and barks at a hapless SNF crew member, who impishly shrugs in response. He can't control the fighters - only the fights.
Already, Marisol's sights have shifted. Glaring at the waif knife-wielder, the girl's lips pull over her teeth, her fists erupting with yellow chi. Stepping swiftly forward, the half-Spaniard girl swings a fist not once, but twice for Ayame's face before she plants her foot and twists her body, both fists driving with force right for the girl's abdomen. And, should it connect, a burst of chi will erupt, to send her staggering.
"A pole is okay, but a knife?! COME ON!"
Ayame once again attacks Alan's looks, drawing little reaction. He smooths his hair back, cigarette dangling from his mouth, and for a moment looks straight out of a photo shoot. Nope, he's pretty sure that he cuts a handsome figure. That's probably the most enraging thing about Alan - he takes sass even better than he gives it. "See that? There's a life lesson: Be like me, and the ladies can't wait to throw down over you! Even if one of them would make Tim Burton shit himself and then cast them as an extra."
One kid actually pipes up, "An extra in what?"
Alan has a quick reply! "Anything, Tim Burton doesn't give a shit." Finally, he's caught his breath, having taken enough time to clear out the jarring of the pair of quick hits he sustained. He glances between Marisol and Ayame for a second before making his choice - only one of these girls has slapped him around with her compensation.
The boxer draws his right hand back, taking his time, slowly forming a crackling orb of chi between his thumb and middle finger. He swings down, snapping those fingers once. A bolt of yellow lightning leaps quickly through the air with a bark of thunder, streaking right for Ayame. "Strike!" But he's not done - immediately Alan takes another step forward, bringing his arm to the side with another snap that has a similar effect. "Twice!"
COMBATSYS: Ayame dodges Alan's Lightning Strikes Twice.
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Alan 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Marisol
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Ayame 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Ayame parries Marisol's El Matador!
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Alan 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Marisol
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Ayame 0/-------/---====|
Looks like we have contact. Ayame's slash comes away having drawn blood and the girl takes a step back, watching Marisol with a guarded expression. It looks like that got a reaction out of her. Swell. "You're not exactly swinging with cotton balls yourself," the girl points out. "But the point does stand... it pays to keep attacking with something your opponents don't expect. Honor is for people hoping that others will treat them decently in return only to find out too late that most often, decency only goes one way." the girl continues calmly. "So don't be a sucker. /Always/ bring a knife to a fist fit."
But now the girl finds herself drawing fire from both of the other fighters. No time to prattle before she's dealing with Alan's twin lightning strikes bearing in on her at the same time Marisol decides to dish out a devastating combo on the girl. "Saaa..." Ayame murmurs, flipping the knife closed in her right hand while bringing her staff up to block the Spaniard's swings for her face.
The knife gets slide back into its sheath as Ayame takes a step back, allowing Alan's lightning bolt zip right between the two girls while Marisol winds up for the big finisher that's sure to leave a serious mark... if Ayame was still there. Taking a step forward to avoid Alan's second strike, Ayame reaches out with her staff to hook behind Marisol and step around the girl, knocking her just lightly out of the way to put herself behind her, giving her a clear shot for the lighting hurling Alan.
No time is wasted as Ayame charges forward, a red and black blur, her right hand busy unclasping the chain belt situated lazily at her waist, unfurling a cable whip that she lashes out toward Alan with, aiming to snare his neck with the metal cord. If the boxer doesn't manage to avoid it, Ayame will step in around him, tightning the cable around his neck while bringing her right leg up to slam the sole of her shoe against his lower back, wrenching his neck back hard before finally releasing him.
Marisol O'Connell finds herself facing a problem.
It would seem that the two fighters, despite the sassy Alan and the insightful Ayame and her generosity toward the children, Marisol is more or less caught in the middle. In a figurative sense; she has yet to contribute anything meaningful like Ayame, nor has she slung insults toward the children, like Alan.
Frowning as the girl speaks to her, those brows knit softly before she pulls them into a sneer. "Is that so?" she replies coolly, eyes hooding as she swings her fists. Despite the defense wielded against her, it bothers her little. Instead, Marisol recoils after the first two failed attempts, before she stomps and drives her fists toward Ayame. Then, rather unexpectedly, the girl draws her staff forward. What..!?
Fortunately, it's not Marisol she's after. Sent stumbling forward a few steps, the girl whips her head around, just as the last of Alan's attack crashes into a distant wall. The girl is going for Alan? That's fine by her.
"Alright, listen up kids," the girl begins, not even looking toward the traumatized audience of children. "If there's one thing of worth you little twerps want to get out of this, it's this:"
A finger juts toward the pair as she glances toward the rows of children finally.
"Like attracts like!" They're such a cute couple! Why, she even pulls out her phone to text the mysterious girl on the other end as much, lifting her phone and hitting the record button on it. She'll love this!
COMBATSYS: Marisol focuses on her next action.
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Alan 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Marisol
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Ayame 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Alan dodges Ayame's Blackmail EX.
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Alan 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Marisol
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Ayame 0/-------/--=====|
Alan's reflexes finally help him out for a change! He sees Ayame going for the chain belt, and makes a gamble, whipping his hand out just in time. Sparks - not from electricity, this time - leap into the air as the iron rings and the belt scrape against each other, the boxer directing the hit away before grabbing on the chain and giving it one sharp tug to try and unbalance Ayame. He shoots her a nasty sneer before moving on past, picking up speed as he approaches Marisol. "Hey, detach yourself from that phone and pay attention, babe!"
He starts to move in fast circles around Marisol, so fast that multiple blurry afterimages form, making it hard to pin the man down. From random directions come a flurry of punches, hooks, jabs, etc., all aimed pretty much everywhere. "You think you've got time to partake of wonderful modern technology?"
A beat later, the earlier words finally catch up with Alan. "Oh, come on, like I'd have anything to do with someone who gets all her clothes at Darque~Le~Styles. Though if she keeps taking them off while running at me, I may go ahead and take pity on her."
The chain is deflected at the same time Ayame is attempting to slip around Alan, leaving her completely out of his way as he tears off after Marisol. His sneer is observed before he becomes a human blur and completely leaves Ayame's sight and the girl shakes her head just a bit. "You must spend a lot of time staring in the mirror perfecting that sneer of yours."
The girl coils the belt back around her waist and clicks the clasp closed in time to hear the remark about her taking her clothes off in his direction. Sighing, she reaches up with her right hand, keeping her staff in her left, as she unslings the cable from around her shoulder. Draping most of the thin cable over her back, she starts to swing the small pointed weight around in a lazy verticle loop at her side.
Chasing Alan around seems like a difficult proposition... She'll just wait on him. He'll be back. He does have a point about the red head and her phone though. Channeling every annoyed school teacher that has ever had a student busy texting messages instead of listening to the lesson, Ayame steps forward and slings the pointed metal weight out toward the side of Marisol's head. "Pay attention!" she snaps. A couple of the adults chaperoning the little kids nod their heads in agreement. Blasted cell phone generation!
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Marisol with Storm Front.
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Alan 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Marisol
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Ayame 0/-------/--=====|
Alan cannot wait his turn, and must respond to Ayame's sass immediately! "Well, some of us don't like to half-ass things!"
COMBATSYS: Marisol interrupts Medium Fling from Ayame with Snap Wind.
- Power hit! -
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Alan 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Marisol
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Ayame 1/-------/=======|
Through the display screen of her cellular, Marisol witnesses the goings-on beyond. There's Alan, being his usual sassy self. And then there's Ayame, recovering from her self-induced wardrobe malfunction. Grinning a toothy smirk, she continues recording, even as Alan comes toward her. Her response is simple; a brow lifts. What's he up to?
"H-hey!!" she cries, as the R grunt suddenly circles her with dizzying speeds. She tries to keep an eye on Alan as he whirls around, but to no avail. So what does she do? Why, she tucks her phone away in a hurry, before he can do something to it. Or steal it; she's not sure which.
Then the flurry of various punches come, knocking her about and stunning her briefly and disorienting the half-Spaniard. She staggers back from the strike, her eyes pinching shut as she rubs her jaw, before she shakes her head and sneers at the mouthy blonde. "I always have time," she mutters. That's when Ayame's 'PAY ATTENTION' catches her ear. Oh no she didn't..!
Turing her head to the side, the girl's gray eyes are wide as that weight comes flying for her face. A hand snaps up and catches the weight in her palm, fingers curling tightly around it as she holds fast. Her lips cut into a swift grin across her face.
"HAAAAH!" Still holding onto the weight, Marisol lunges forward with a fist tense at her side. The last foot is a slide; the girl's sneakers squeal against the floor of the gymnasium as she closes in and introduces her fist to the middle of Ayame's adorable face.
"You two...! I was busy!"
Alan speeds away abruptly, taking several hopping steps backward, still leaving a haze of electricity behind him. Eventually, the images all collapse, but not before Alan takes the time to slide another black cigarette with gold leaf filtering from his pocket, lighting it with a finger-snap. Truly, Nat Shermans are the kings of cigarettes. "There'll be plenty of time for gettin' busy after the fight, but it's showtime. You don't want to give these impressional children bad habits, do you?" He exhales a plume of smoke pointedly, and securing the cigarette in his mouth, pulls up his fists and advances toward Marisol.
Or so it appeared! The American suddenly breaks around her, swaying as though he were dodging a punch, trying to capitalize on the reeling Ayame. Perhaps he wants a little alone time with Marisol? Or perhaps he flipped a coin in his mind. Either way, he's coming right for her, snapping his left fist out twice before hopping back, waiting for what will inevitably come at him.
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Ayame with Jab Punch.
- Power hit! -
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Alan 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Marisol
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Ayame 1/-----==/=======|
Ayame's eyes widen slightly as her rope dart is caught by Marisol. That wasn't expected. She gives the cable a good yank to try and retrieve it, but the effort is rather irrelevant as the red-head is tearing after her anyway. Catching the girl off guard, Marisol gets the satisfaction of socking her solidly in the face, driving the feather weight right into the wall with a solid thud with the back of her head.
Eyes watering, she brings her hand up to rub the bridge of her nose tenderly. Well, it's not broken, though the trickle of blood at the base of one nostril it was probably a close call either way. Peeling herself off of the wall, she's just in time to step into Alan's two electrified jabs to the face, driving her back against the wall a second time. Okay, that one did it! The poor kid's nose is busted now, blood seeping down over her lips as she leans back against the wall for support.
"Phaf boz it!" the girl snaps, completely rendered incapable of saying anything intelligible for the time being. Feeling fenced in by the other two fighters, she bunkers down behind her metal staff, her back against the wall to keep from getting surrounded, and otherwise just holds her ground.
COMBATSYS: Ayame focuses on her next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Alan 0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Ayame 1/-----==/=======|
Poor Ayame just can't seem to catch herself a break. Both fighters make their move against her, and as result the poor kid is left with a busted and bloodied nose. A few children start bawling at the sight of blood on her face, and a gaggle of parents have begun flocking the SNF crew and some YFCC staff. This is unacceptable behavior! Aren't they supposed to teach the children good things?!
Marisol, meanwhile, feels a little guilty about the entire thing. Frowning lightly, red brows furrow thoughtfully as she watches poor Ayame put her back to the wall and support herself with her metal pole. So MAYBE Marisol overreacted a little bit? She was caught up in the heat of the moment!
Gray eyes ultimately find Alan, to whom she flashes a toothy grin. It takes little to give her the encouragement she needs to trail after the boxer. And so, with another squeal of sneaker soles on gymnasium floor, the half-Spaniard girl charges after him, a fist reeled back before she swings it, a hook punch aimed for his face.
"You're awfully mean to that girl, you know!"
COMBATSYS: Marisol successfully hits Alan with Hook Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////// ]
Alan 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Ayame 1/-----==/=======|
Ayame's wording gives Alan pause, and he squints toward her. "If you can't talk right after a busted nose, girl, maybe you're in the wrong sport. This is a serious statement." He turns back to Marisol, flicking some of the other girl's blood off his right hand, and pulls up his guard to try and fend with the oncoming student, who has apparently decided to white knight it up.
So of course, with all the time in the world to prepare for the slow-coming blow, the one hole in Alan's guard is found, the fist slipping between his hands to smash into his chin. He reels hard, saliva and blood flying out in a small arc, spattering against the edge of the stage. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Alan R. B. snorts. "Come on, babe, I'm mean to everyone." The electricity around him suddenly intensifies, gathering into his hands. "You know I'm equal opportunity in all things! I am an enlightened man."
Then it's time to get really flashy, bringing both hands up. "Thunder..." Everything else happens very fast - both hands come down one after the other, then the right hand is flung to the side, ending with a final fingersnap with the left hand pointing forward. Four huge bolts of lightning crackle outward, moving nearly instantly across the distance between the two.
"STORM!"
Bunkering down behind her weapon seemed to do the trick. Either no one felt like trying to hit the girl from behind the weapon, or they collectively took pity, or Alan is just back to flipping coins in his head again. His serious statement just earns him a muted glare. The pretense of the fight is put out of her mind. The startled kids, the upset parents, the uncomfortable staff on hand... Ayame sees only two other people here now.
Tight lipped, she glances between the two of them, watching Marisol switch to bashing Alan's face in with her fist. That's what she gets for being given a fight with two boxers, she realizes, having come to recognize that both of the other two combatants really love aiming for the face.
No longer interested in trying to placate the crowd, she's able to focus more intently on how the two of them move, the speed of their actions, and also spot openings. Which she belives she's found the moment Alan unloads for lightning bolts back at Marisol, who's stuck being in closer range to him.
Shoving off from the wall, Ayame is there by the time he points with his left hand, flanking him to attack from the side with a bash aimed for his lower back. A second swipe comes from the opposite direction as Ayame whirls around, aiming to plow the other end of the weapon into his stomach in hopes of lining him up for a final swing back with the opposite end toward the back of his neck before backing off and bracing again.
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Marisol with Thunder Storm.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Alan 0/-------/-------|=======\-------\1 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Ayame 1/-----==/=======|
Her fist connects, piercing his defenses and causing the American boxer to reel and spit to one side as he's struck. This, of course, draws a massive smile across the half-Spaniard's face, gray eyes alight with delight as she recoils from the blow, hopping back a step or two before she holds her ground.
"Enlightened," she muses, the corners of her lips crawling further across her sun-kissed face as she observes him. For now, Ayame is otherwise forgotten, left to recover from her busted face. It's the least she can do for the girl, she figures. "I'm not so sure about that..."
When he begins to crackle, those eyes narrow sharply, arms tensing at her sides as she focuses entirely on Alan. Then comes the lightning, and instantly those gray eyes snap wide. Her arms move, to protect herself in that instant...to no avail. The four bolts strike their target, causing the half-Spaniard to grunt and yelp, her figure reeling harshly to one side before she staggers.
"I...really," she begins, absently rubbing her singed arms. "Hate when you do that!"
As Ayame swings her pole at Alan, Marisol steps in, attempting to deliver a quick blow aimed for his jaw, if only to add insult to injury! "Graah!"
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Alan with Random Weapon.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Alan 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Ayame 1/----===/=======|
COMBATSYS: Alan dodges Marisol's Light Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Alan 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Ayame 1/----===/=======|
"Enlightened, lightning, they're pretty similar. It's all a cosmic coincidence, clearly." Alan swings his hands to the side, discharging excess chi in a pair of arcs, then rises up on the balls of his feet.
The 'R' agent tries to weave away from Ayame, but the added range keeps him from judging things correctly, and he finds himself bruised around. The last hit knocks the gold butt of his latest cigarette onto the ground, but luckily gives him the momentum necessary to dart aside from Marisol's incoming swing.
He continues around Marisol, keeping an eye on Ayame but not going after her again quite yet. Instead he suddenly drops to a crouch, eyes flicking out toward the kids. "Hey, front and center, wherever you are, it looks like your dog stole your seat! Oh, wait, you're just naturally canine-esque, my bad." Hopefully, Marisol will instinctively glance over. That's when Alan strikes like a totally awesome snake, suddenly hurling straight upward, right hand leading, iron rings aiming right for the chin. Chi whirls around the boxer as he takes the shot.
Back in a defensive position, the strawberry-blonde watches as neither opponent takes a swing at her for the moment, content to knock each other's teeth out. Left standing around with her staff in hand, she's left in the dust as Alan goes after Marisol with another taunt and lightning laced smack for Marisol's chin. Having gotten over having her own face punched in, she's given time to wipe her lips, brushing away a fine streak of blood on her arm from beneath her nose.
Being left out leaves Ayame in a weird spot. She could just hang back and let the other two fighters beat each other senseless. Or she could stick to trying to smack the sneer off Alan's face. Or she could double-team Marisol with him. The constant ebb and flow of a free for all is a lot for the girl to take in - It's so much easier when just having to face down one opponent! Making tactical choices in the madness that is a free for all leaves the less experienced fighter feeling rather overwhelmed.
When she finally makes up her mind, she's late compared to quick acting Alan, coming in to attack Marisol from the side. Like with the 'R' man, Ayame aims for the back with a solid smack with her staff. Hey, at least she's not using knives on her yet, right? Maybe she doesn't want to set Marisol off again. Last time didn't end well for her nose.
The first strike is followed up with a single straight jab toward the red-head's side just above the waist, trying to aim for angles that are difficult to defend against. She simply holds the weapon there in the end, trying to use her staff's range to its advantage. Still silent from when she took the beating to the face, the girl merely stays focused on striking. Okay, well, she does spare a glance toward the ugly kid Alan pointed out. "...That's a chihuahua... It /is/ a dog." she huffs, her voice still nasal though not as muffled as before.
COMBATSYS: Marisol blocks Alan's Uppercut Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Alan 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Ayame 1/----===/=======|
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Marisol with Medium Strike.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Alan 0/-------/----===|=======\===----\1 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Ayame 1/----===/=======|
Her attack, dodged. Furrowing her brows slightly, those gray eyes keep close watch on Alan as he speaks, which likely is a mistake. Ayame is, clearly, as much of a threat to her as the boxer is. But that is of little concern for the redhead right now. As he steps forward and crackles with chi, the girl just slides a foot back and crosses her arms, folding them and bracing herself for impact. It draws a harsh frown across her lips.
"Why you..!!" the girl bellows, her arms dropping from their defensive posture to something more lax and comfortable. "You...!!" But just as she's about to bark and yell at the boxer for being so predictable, a sudden THOCK of Ayame's staff comes smacking her upside the head, causing the girl to exhale loudly and stagger forward, past the American.
Only after she's gained some distance does the girl spin around and glare at the two, her teeth clenched before she curls her hands into tight fists. "Nngh, you guys..."
"WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT DOGS!?" Clearly she's out of the loop. "And where is a chihuahua! I don't see a chihuahua!!"
COMBATSYS: Marisol gains composure.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Alan 0/-------/----===|=======\==-----\1 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Ayame 1/----===/=======|
Truth be told, Alan just loves that big, slow uppercut. He glides a short distance away, rolling his shoulder and wincing, before pulling up his fists and taking several quick steps around the melee. "Oh man, it's so easy to get you flustered. Maybe you should keep a notebook around, so you don't have to worry about keeping track of things. It won't be hard to get one of these kids to follow you around and take notes on your life, most of them are clearly genetically predisposed to miserable lives!"
Alan's sass toward Marisol may successfully distract from his own actions, looping around behind Ayame before springing forward. A sheath of chi appears around his leg, for once, as he pulls one leg up, turning three times in the air with his right heel leading for the top of Ayame's head, tracing a perfect circle in the air. "Ring! Of! Thunder!" On the last hit, it if lands, he springs cruelly off, turning another somersault to right himself, landing smoothly near the wall.
COMBATSYS: Ayame fails to counter Ring of Thunder from Alan with Requiem For Fallen Blossoms.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Alan 0/-------/---====|=======\==-----\1 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\ <
Ayame 1/---====/=======|
Marisol staggers away after the dual assault but Ayame doesn't take her eyes off her at first, wondering why the girl seems so confused about what everyone is talking about. Maybe if she wasn't spending so much time with that phone of hers, she'd be better clued in!
And maybe if Ayame spent less time wondering how it is she's found someone who hates kids even more than she does, she'd be better at reacting to Alan's incoming kicks in time. "Why any one in the world thought you'd be a good source of advice is beyond me." Ayame remarks, turning toward Alan. "You're just about the most miserable-!" He comes in high which catches the girl off guard, swinging her staff up to try and aggressively smack the smart aleck out of the air. But she doesn't get it in the way in time to intercept the first strike - the hit leaving her too dazed to try and recover as the next two connect against the side of her head.
As he springs off her, Ayame drops to the ground in a face plant, catching herself with her right hand just in time to let her turn her face to the side to keep from crushing her poor abused nose even further. And then? She plays dead. It gives her a lot of time to weigh out the merits of just ducking out of the rest of the fight rather than take any more punishment like that. It also gives her time to let the ringing in her head clear. She's not sure what's worse at this point - listening to Alan talk anymore or the pain she's in?
"What the--" Staring wide-eyed at the 'R' lackey, Marisol grits her teeth harshly, those gray eyes suddenly alive with emotion as she stares at Alan. The nerve of him, to talk to her like that! "I'm kind of busy, you realize!" she argues back. "I'm not sure if you're smart enough to realize the situation you're in. I don't have time to worry about stupid stuff, like DOGS. Or you trying to pick up girls half your age! Like her--!" Marisol jerks her thumb toward Ayame. She doesn't mention she's been distracted by her phone in the fight!
But when he moves after the aforementioned girl, the redhead just scoffs softly and tosses her head. "Jerk," she murmurs, arms tensing before she just draws her eyes to a close and softly shakes her head. He's going after Ayame again, she figures. It gives her a moment to consider her position. "What to do..?"
Then it dawns upon her.
"No sleeping!" the girl cries, making a run for Ayame. Whether she's on her feet yet or not, she'll try to punch the girl in the stomach, before she reaches out to grab her, introducing her stomach to Marisol's knee, before she finishes it up with a vertical kick straight to the girl's jaw.
"What would the children think!?"
Alan takes his time now that the girls are throwing themselves at each other again, lighting his third - fourth? - cigarette of the fight, relaxing against the wall as hard as he can. Mysteriously, doing this causes chi to whirl around him even more, a corona of electricity forming as he opens up those natural channels. "Oh, come on, how many times do I have to say I have no interest in her?" He flicks ash. "Is that /jealousy/ I detect?" He sneers.
Then he glances out at the kids again. "God, I can't even bring myself to say anything to them anymore. It is actually like shooting fish in a barrel, there's no challenge in burning kids."
COMBATSYS: Alan gathers his will.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Alan 1/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\ <
Ayame 1/---====/=======|
COMBATSYS: Ayame fails to counter Chain Reaction from Marisol with Final Solstice.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Alan 1/-------/=======|=======\===----\1 Marisol
COMBATSYS: Ayame can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Alan 1/-------/=======|=======\===----\1 Marisol
Hey, she's trying to think here! And, well, trying to lead someone into doing something careless at the same time. When it comes to underhanded tactics, there's not too many things she wouldn't resort to. And if playing possum for a moment creates an opening, she's willing to give it a shot. The hard part is predicting exactly how to /aim/ when not watching one's opponent, and that's what Ayame has to consider when she realizes Marisol is coming at her. No rest for the wicked, she supposes.
Her left hand tightens on her staff as the Spaniard comes for her again. A hydraulic hiss accompanies three thin, sharp blades extending out from one end of the polearm but the girl remains still, waiting for just the right moment...
Then Marisol is in close and Ayame takes her shot, rising up from prone to a half-crouch and jamming that now bladed end of the staff up and at Marisol with the intent to skewer the girl and make her regret trying to attack her. "Gotch-" Erk. It looks like dirty tricks aren't going to get the better of the boxer as the weapon slices through the air right up past Marisol's shoulder, the extended blades slipping past without connecting as Ayame had hoped.
And for her honorless tactics, the girl gets a solid punch to the stomach that takes the fight right out of her. She's a hapless target as Marisol grabs hold of her and delivers a follow up knee to the stomach, forcing a pained cough right before the finishing kick comes up to crack against Ayame's jaw, knocking the girl backward without so much as a word. Limp hands release the bladed staff, allowing it to land against the ground with a rattle while Ayame herself flops down to the ground on her back, sliding against the wooden floor of the gym a little ways before coming to a stop. If she was still conscious, she'd probably be hoping Marisol doesn't come try to hit her again!
There's a cursory expression of surprise on the redhead's face as she hears a loud hiss from the pole wielded by the young blonde. That's clue enough for her to suddenly lash out and press her attacking, snagging the girl and delivering her threefold attack that causes the poor girl to skid across the floor. In the bleachers, a few children cry. Of the three, Ayame was the 'nice' one. The kids liked her!
It would seem poor Ayame is out for the count, and Marisol just gained a few hateful glares from the children. She remains oblivious to it, of course, her jaw tense. "Well, you two can have all the time in the world now," she remarks, jerking a thumb toward the felled Ayame. "You should buy her a bouquet. She seems like she'd appreciate it!" She's a matchmaker, really!
The chi around Alan is noted, and full lips pull into an easy grin. "Jealous? Me? No way; you wish, pervert." Gray eyes narrow, her face alight with amusement. "So shut your mouth and fight already," she snaps, thrusting a finger his direction. "You shouldn't pick on CHILDREN, anyway. Or be around them. Haven't you received a restraining order to keep fifty yards or something from schools yet, you drug pusher??"
COMBATSYS: Marisol focuses on her next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Alan 1/-------/=======|=======\===----\1 Marisol
Alan finishes his cigarette and pushes off of the wall, flicking the butt over onto Ayame's prone form. "Of course not! You can't file a restraining order on someone who doesn't get caught." The blonde sweeps a hand back through his hair again, raising his fists and taking a few shadowjabs.
Then Alan is moving again, faster now that he knows he won't get attacked in the back. His fist sweeps out in a wide hook blow, but then his movement suddenly turns into a spin as he grabs at Marisol's arm, trying to just twist it and bring her to the ground, electricity swirling forward. "By the way, you do know denial is an ugly thing, right?"
COMBATSYS: Marisol endures Alan's Quick Throw.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Alan 1/------=/=======|=======\=====--\1 Marisol
"Uh...huh."
Marisol's reply is quite simple. At this point she figures there's no need for words. Besides, it will likely only encourage the American boxer, and that's the last thing she needs to do. When he shadowjabs, the girl scoffs softly and folds her arms across her chest, her head gently tossing to one side. The faintest of grins haunts her lips.
She only stirs when the boxer comes at her again, turning to face the man as he closes in and feints. Grabbed, she makes no protests to move out of harm's way; instead, she takes the attack, slammed into the ground with a loud 'oof!' before she rolls to one side and hops to her feet.
"HA HA HA!" Lunging at Alan, her fists suddenly erupt with energy, as she swings for his face with a harsh hook...
COMBATSYS: Marisol successfully hits Alan with Cloud Nine.
[ \\ < > /////////// ]
Alan 1/=======/=======|==-----\-------\0 Marisol
Closing in the distance, Marisol's features suddenly erupts with a nigh-wild expression, gray eyes wide as she swings a chi-laced hook right for his face. But it doesn't stop at just one; another and another come, before her hand shoots forward, to grab him by the collar. Snagging him, she sports a toothy smirk...
...before she slams her forehead into his and shoves him.
"Ha ha ha!!" Still laughing, the half-Spaniard ducks low before she swings her fist harshly in a mighty uppercut, her fist furiously burning with copious amounts of dandelion-yellow chi energy.
This is usually how things turn out. Really, it's hard to be bothered by getting pounded once it seems to happen every other fight. Besides, he just... doesn't care about winning or losing. SNF dishes out purses either way. It may not be as much money as he was looking for, but he'll probably get the standard bonus just for being himself. The fans love to hate him more and more every fight.
This is what goes through his mind right up until Marisol headbutts his headmeats, causing him to stagger back before getting nailed by the chi-charged uppercut. He spirals back, crashing into the wall and sliding down it. Though still concious, Alan makes no move to get up, letting out a weak snicker as he wipes more blood from his lips. "Ha ha ha... well... fuck it."
COMBATSYS: Alan takes no action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ <
Marisol 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: Alan can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ <
Marisol 0/-------/-----==|
With one mighty swing, poor Alan goes crashing into the distant wall. This, of course, causes a few (probably all) of the children present to cheer in delight. Yay! The big mean American boxer hit a wall! Yay, he won't be making insults at them anymore! SNF and YFCC workers are likely relieved. Thank god this mess is over with.
Standing there with her fist raised, the last of her chi vanishes, swirling upwards into the ether. Gray eyes, once wide, dim a bit, her expression muted from what it previously was. The grin, however, lingers, despite the tension in her body. She's ready for whatever he'll throw at her..!
But...nothing. Instead, the boxer just sulks against the distant wall, earning him a strange look from the half-Spaniard. He's not going to come after her?
The girl exhales a loud puff of air. She's relieved.
Straightening her back, she rubs a thumb across her nose, before she thrusts a finger toward the gathered children and adults. "Remember, William H. Sessions says winners don't do drugs. So if you see this guy--" A thumb jerks over her shoulder toward Alan. "--outside your school, call a cop!"
Glancing over her shoulder, she sports an impish smile. "Later, Alan. Again, you should consider giving her some flowers." Ayame, she means. "She's cute! I think you two make a great couple."
And without further word, she pivots on her heel and marches for the exit, pulling her cellular out of her pocket and flicking it open, placing it against her ear.
"...hi!! Yeah! Did you get the video? ...I KNOW, ha ha ha! Isn't it great?? Told you it was three!"
COMBATSYS: Marisol has ended the fight here.
Log created on 02:30:27 12/08/2007 by Marisol, and last modified on 15:53:40 12/10/2007.