Description: A SNF set in a mirror packed fun house at the Lost City carnival pits Stasya against Ayame. The weapons fighter proves as ruthless in combat as ever, drawing on tricks and feints while picking apart her opponent's real focus. In the end an offer is extended and accepted... is Ayame turning over a new leaf? (Winner: Ayame)
A winding maze of reflective walls, the entire point of the Lost City House of Mirrors is to disorient, confuse, and warp one's perceptions. Some of the mirrors alter angles, making things look nearer or further, larger or smaller. Other mirrors are tinted to reflect colored light into the area around them, making some spots just feel hotter or colder by visual illusion alone. Some of the mirrors, when pressed against, rotate open on smoothly hinges, creating openings and closing others at the same time, altering the layout of the maze.
Two things are not changed, however. There are but two ways in and out of the House of Mirrors and tonight's two fighters began at opposite ends of the building, expected to track each other down after a thoroughly perplexing tour through the heart of the maze. Ayame has no trouble keeping her spacial whereabouts figured out, but with the way the actual routes can be changed by opening and closing mirrors, keeping track of what path actually leads where is mildly flummoxing.
Reaching a dead end, the girl doubles back another way, retracing her steps toward another path she had made a point to remember before, only to find that the path has become a much shorter dead end since she last passed it. "Nn," the long haired girl grunts, getting a little tired of the Fun House antics. Her left hand slips into the pouch at her belt and she pulls out her collapsed staff, expanding the weapon while holding it vertically. And then she makes her own path, swinging the top end downward into the mirror blocking her path, sending glass shards flying as the pane gives way, revealing open space on the other side.
Grinning faintly, Ayame taps her staff against her shoulder and steps through the shattered mirror, her thick soled Doc Martin boots crunching shards beneath her feet. "Maybe this will be 'fun' after all..."
It seems the Powers That Be have a fondness for sending Stasya off to the United States for her fights. All the (very few) matches she's been able to participate in have transpired within the borders of America. But the Russian student isn't complaining, mind you-- she's thrilled enough to be getting billed for fights at all: thrilled enough she's being -allowed- to do them by her reluctant parents. While her father still frowns over the publicity attached to participation in these sanctioned battles and her mother still frets over her flying so far from home, the two of them have realized that this is what their daughter really wants to do. And it's a sight better than some other things in which she could get involved.
And who knows? Maybe Stasya can find some answers to her questions about that strange power of hers, out among the professional fighters of the world. She's already met one or two out there who share it, questioned them for all they know about it (not much); somewhere, there has to be someone who knows the first thing about what it is, and why she has it.
Concerns about her psychic ability, however, are among the furthest things from her mind as she navigates patiently through the maze of garish, distorting mirrors. In fact, it could prove something of a blessing here. For one thing, it is usually a lot harder to faze a psychic with weird mind games. For another, it lets her intuit a fight as much as she objectively perceives it. And lastly... due to her ability to empathically pick up on people once she gets within a couple meters of them, she'll probably become aware of her opponent's proximity before--
CRASH.
Any thoughts of possibly ambushing Ayame go out the window when the mirrors guarding the far side of this open area simply -shatter- to bits. The Gedo blonde draws up short, her eyes flicking attentively over to Ayame as the other girl steps through the aperture she's made for herself. Turning more fully to face Ayame, Stasya appraises the girl a moment-- eyes lingering on the staff-- before she cracks something of a grin. "Zdravstvuitye," she says, mildly incomprehensibly, as she begins a slow lope towards Ayame. Absently, she pulls her fingerless gloves a bit tighter. "I see you do not like to wait."
"Zdravstvuitye," Ayame echos back without even a blink, her tone crisp and unslurred. Russian, huh? muses the girl. But for her curiosity she's looking around the little area more than she is studying her opponent, taking in the dimensions of the opening. This will do for a bit. Comfortable fighting at a variety of ranges, she does have to adjust what she fights /with/ based on the room she has to work with. The cursory inspection of the room finishes and she looks toward her opponent at last, having measured her pace to know roughly how much time she'd have left before she would be within striking range.
Taller than her, and pale as a ghost, she would have pondered where it was the other girl was from were it not for her greeting. "Hey, we both came a long ways for this match," Ayame shrugs back, "I think we've waited long enough." Her left hand tightens its grip on the reflective metal pole while her right hand clenches loosely, held up in front of her.
Giving up a chance to strike preemptively in order to survey this weird venue is a bit of a gamble, but Ayame hopes the analysis pays off. Muscles tense as the girl's eyes focus on Stasya and she crouches just slightly, readying her defenses. "Hope you're ready for this. We may be at a fun house, but there's nothing fun about the way I fight." Her right hand tightens, knuckles cracking.
COMBATSYS: Ayame has started a fight here.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Ayame 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Stasya has joined the fight here.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Ayame 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Stasya
Stasya's thin brow lifts as her opponent quips her greeting right back at her: the delivery smooth and largely unaccented, too. Impressed despite herself, Stasya pauses briefly in her advance, deciding to survey the girl more closely. Asian, probably Japanese judging by the name... but the quick response, the easy and confident way in which she carries herself, and the deft, street-smart demeanor she affects suggests a persona far removed from the waifish, pale-skinned girls idealized in the media of the country.
That's fine by Stasya. She didn't fly all this way not to be challenged. "Is truth," she nods in blase response to Ayame, her head lifting slightly to an airy sort of tilt. Blonde hair slides across her shoulders. "I did not come here to be looking at myself in mirrors."
Nothing fun about her fighting style, eh. Stasya can tell, a little-- can sort of intuit that-- and heavy lashes partially obscure her eyes as they half-lid in that searching, receptive thought. "As I would expect," is her easy reply, her half-shut grey eyes skimming the staff Ayame wields. "Now I give you chance to show me." And true to her word, she abruptly breaks from her standstill a few instants thereafter. The lazy half-lid of her eyes turns into a focused narrowing as she closes with the other girl. Her intention seems to be to come in high, maybe a punch or some sort of high kick--
--but instants from Ayame, she abruptly drops low to the ground, slamming forwards onto her hands into a handstand. Her legs whip upwards, scissoring sharply, a rapid kick arcing up to snap for Ayame's face in some bastardized form of capoeira.
COMBATSYS: Stasya successfully hits Ayame with Light Kick.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Ayame 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Stasya
Stasya's reply about looking at herself in mirrors actually brings a faint smirk of amusement to Ayame's expression for a fleeting moment. Amen to that. But she's quiet as the Russian steps into striking range, deciding to react defensively and retaliate rather than preempt her strike in any way. The confusing array of techniques in her approach catches Ayame offguard though as she follows her movements from high, to low, then right back up to high only to get cracked in the face with the swift strike. The impact drives her back half a step, her hand coming up to wipe at her mouth as she glares back at her opponent. How did she learn Capoeira in /Russia/?
Well then - deciding that that must be the style her opponent utilizes, and having had plenty of experience fighting another certain capoerist time and time again, she shakes her head, right hand wiping across her mouth to brush aside a trickle of blood on her lip. Her expression takes on a certain predatory shift as she thinks she has the other girl all figured out now. Deal with her kicks and she'll be helpless, right?!
"That's your one freebie," the girl snaps, speaking only to distract as she shifts her staff up to her shoulder then jams it up behind her back at an angle, driving the shaft through the casing of one of the cameras mounted above the mirrors for the purposes of filming this match. As sparks rain down around her, Ayame slams her staff forward, ripping the camera off its mount and sending it hurtling toward the Russian.
And Ayame is speeding along right behind it, her staff sweeping out low, aiming to take the other girl right off her feet... or her hands if she was still getting clever with that upside down business!
COMBATSYS: Stasya blocks Ayame's Random Weapon.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////////// ]
Ayame 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Stasya
The element of surprise. It's a vastly important component to any fight, one that could turn the tide of most engagements. And it's part of the reason Stasya has worked so hard at perfecting seamless transitions between different modes of attack-- different martial arts. She's taken a few elements of the local fighting style from just about every place she's lived in her army-brat, rootless life, and she's mixed them all together. The result? She's hard to predict.
Snapping back down to a wary, poised stand and dancing back a few steps as Ayame snaps those sharp words at her. The girl's only response? A brief wink and half a grin. Weaving backwards further as Ayame flicks her staff deftly up to impale that unfortunate camera, she slips to one side as the object-- still spewing sparks-- sails past. Involuntarily sparing the camera a brief glance, she looks back in time to see Ayame-- right in her face. The Russian spares a blink to the other girl's obvious speed.
Her stance sets, swinging low, and the Gedo student intercepts the sweep of the staff with an outwards push of her leading leg: knocking the blow wide. The unorthodox block steps smoothly into a retaliatory attack, Stasya pushing off in a lunge towards Ayame. Abruptly, and perhaps somewhat unexpectedly, she essays in close in what seems to be an attempt to grapple, trying to set her shoulder into Ayame, get ahold of the other girl, and throw her with a quick twist.
The sudden lunge in close is accompanied, unusually enough, by a sudden burst of extremely bright red psi. The energy isn't meant to injure, not this time around-- but given all the reflective surfaces around, it'll do a good job of blinding anyone who isn't expecting the sudden flash of light.
COMBATSYS: Ayame fails to interrupt Cortana from Stasya with Harvest's Reaper.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////////// ]
Ayame 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Stasya
Stasya manages to fend off the strike well enough but it doesn't slow the girl down as she tries to transition into a second sweeping strike, her staff flaring a vibrant red, angry energy as she aims to intercept the blonde with a powerful hit.
The glint of matching red psi energy catches her off - not because of the reflection in the mirror but because she didn't sense the build up before hand. And getting inside her effective striking range leaves her stumbling to correct for the change of positioning, wishing she had one of her knives on hand instead. The grab onto her shoulder results in Ayame being twisted over and down upside down into a mirror right behind her before she slides off of it, rolling onto her feet before she would have landed on the crown of her head.
A shake of her head accompanies a soft growl as she shifts her grip on her staff to compensate for having ended up on the other side of her opponent. "Jeez," the long haired Asian mutters as she gets her balance back, "Not this /again/. Doesn't anyone use chi anymore?" She must have been off pickpocketing Saint Paul when God handed out killer mind powers, she mentally gripes. Her right hand comes up to rub her shoulder before lowering down in front of her, fingers stretching and unstretching.
In the midst of recovering from her throw, Stasya overhears what Ayame's muttering to herself. The words take her by surprise. The Russian visibly pauses, casting a vaguely-troubled glance at the other girl: though Ayame isn't necessarily the focus of her sight. Her thoughts have, momentarily, gone somewhere far distant. What Ayame's just said seems to runs counter to her tentative conclusion that psi was a rare thing. Though of course, she reminds herself, one has to allow for a certain amount of hyperbole here.
"You have seen this very often?" Stasya sounds casual about it, but the interest in her voice-- along with the fact she's asking at all-- seems to belie her nonchalance. Her long fingers flex open and shut once or twice, cracking absently: a nervous habit. She hesitates a moment. But presently, she seems to get over whatever's bothering her. There's a fight to focus on... and in her mind, letting up in a fight for even an instant is a pity move. It's something she finds insulting, and she-- with her rather strict notions of pride-- will neither do it to others, nor tolerate it when shown to her.
Due to that, she's quick to go back on the offensive. She closes with Ayame again, a slight weave to her movements reminiscent of a boxer's. It might help obscure the angle from which her next attack comes, or it might just give it away: a hefty hook punch, thrown straight towards Ayame's shoulder.
COMBATSYS: Ayame counters Strong Punch from Stasya with Fierce Strike.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Ayame 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0 Stasya
Speaking gives Ayame time to rethink things. So far Stasya has proven to be difficult to predict. The girl isn't sure her style of fighting fits anything she can match it up against compared to her litany of battles before this one. That means she's hard to strike preemptively or avoid if Ayame sticks to waiting until the last second like she normally does against opponents she has more figured out.
But she's willing to entertain the converastion a bit as well, tightening up her stance, right hand lifting up to grip her staff a little ways away from her left hand. "I have," she replies curtly at first. It isn't exactly a fond topic, getting blasted with nerve wracking pain time and time again. "At least once a week, if not more often than that even." She's fought enough psi users enough to know she doesn't like getting hit by it, that's for damn sure. Her mouth curls into a faint smile, "And now I know you're the same as all them, so you won't catch me off guard so easily again."
And then Stasya is back on the offense, coming in with a weaving boxer's stance, and Ayame's eyes narrow. She's got a lot of different techniques at her disposal, the girl muses. She'll have to stop her early rather than trying to predict the angle of the attack...
And then the Russian hits a range where Ayame's long weapon gives her a bit of an edge, a chance to stop her from advancing before she gets inside her striking range again. The Russian weaves and Ayame reacts by ducking low and delivering a solid slam outward with the center of her staff aimed for the other girl's stomach, twisting around her in the process to come in behind her, their backs toward each other for a fleeting moment.
A second swing comes as Ayame jabs the weapon backward into Staysa's thigh while taking a spinning backstep of her own, her long hair catching up a second later as she unleashes a final, spinning strike toward the back of her opponent's head with a solid smack. The combination of strikes delivered, Ayame slams the weapon backward, blowing out another mirror, opening the way into a more narrow corridor. Perhaps she thinks to back into it, making it difficult to get at her around the titanium polearm in her hands.
At least once a week. Either this girl has really pissed off one or two psi users, Stasya thinks, or there really are that many others out there. The blonde student ruminates over this a moment, a frown ghosting across her lips as she processes this new information. But her train of thought, whatever it is, gets interrupted quick by Ayame's cheeky closing statement. Her distant eyes sharpen again, focusing anew on the other girl, but despite that declaration... a crooked sort of smirk still pulls briefly at Stasya's dour mouth. "That is so? Is good. I do not like things too easy."
But Stasya's interest in what Ayame had to say, in this instance, seems to cost her. Time wasted in thought is time her opponent can analyze her and gauge how she wants to proceed over the next few minutes of their fight. The other girl having wised to her tricks, Stasya isn't quite so able to catch Ayame off-guard this time: true to her words. Slammed three times in three vulnerable points, Stasya's sent stumbling harshly by the force of the retaliation Ayame brings to bear. Her stance widens at the last moment, the blonde just barely catching her balance.
Shaking her head with a rustle of long hair, Stasya has to take a moment just to try to catch her breath after that initial strike of Ayame's. A few harsh breaths later, the girl turns sharply to the sight of Ayame opening a route to a tighter, narrower part of the maze. She guesses at the intended tactic quickly, the length of that polearm her first clue as to Ayame's perceived plans.
The girl's lithe form whipcracks abruptly, bolting forwards in a sudden rush. A flare of red psi lights suddenly about her hands, streaming down her arms, the bright energy rapidly hardening into sheathing gauntlets of keen edges and rough points. The girl launches a flurry of attacks with her psi-plated hands, attempting to slam a punishing series of blows into Ayame before she can back fully through that new aperture she's made.
COMBATSYS: Ayame parries Stasya's Angurva'del!
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////// ]
Ayame 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Stasya
Ayame can tell her words have had an impact. It's how she battles. A lot prefer to shut up and fight, but the young trickster prefers to attack her opponents on multiple fronts. She may not be able to fling psionic power around at will, but there's more than one way to launch an attack on someone's mental defenses...
"Oh yeah, all types too. Little angel boys that think they're some dictator's child... assassins, criminals, Interpol agents... fortune tellers... Wandering vagrants... pretty boys... School girls like yourself..." Ayame's smile widens a bit, just barely showing a glint of white teeth. "I picked them all apart. Just like I'm going to do with you. Too easy? Hah!" Ayame's stance tightens up a little, her left foot sliding backward as if ready to slip further into the maze.
And that seems to have baited Stasya into attacking, just like Ayame had hoped. Rather than retreating, the girl steps to the side before leaning forward into a sideways lean, putting her out of targetting range from the other girl's striking hands. At the same time she hooks her staff out and around, aiming to knock the Russian in the back of the knees and send HER stumbling forward through the newly shattered mirror into the narrow space, likely leaving her back exposed for an instant.
There's a quiet click of a clasp being released and then the blonde haired foreigner will have to contend with a two yard long whip lashing out toward her neck from behind, aiming to snare her tightly. If Ayame gets the grip she seeks, she'll step forward while pulling back on the cord with her right hand and lift up her foot to slam a boot into Stasya's lower back, trying to bend her backward with her whip into an agonizing submission like hold before she finally releases the whip and hops back.
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Stasya with Blackmail EX.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Ayame 0/-------/---====|=======\=------\1 Stasya
Stasya is quiet a moment, her grey eyes resting their gaze on Ayame-- yet, at the same time, not really looking at her. The silence, the unfocused look about her-- both are a sign that she's attempting to intuit with her psychic ability. Attempting to discern the truth of what Ayame's saying. She can generally tell, if she focuses enough, if people are being truthful or not. She doesn't sense duplicity here.
A mixture of hopefulness and irritation tugs at her own emotions. The former arises from the knowledge that there are many others-- many other normal people-- out there like her, with this odd ability. The latter arises from Ayame's continued baiting. Brow furrowing, eyes narrowing slightly, against Stasya's better judgment... she loses it just a little bit. Her subsequent lunge forwards is heated, the girl seeking to lash out with one of her less merciful modes of attack.
Cooler-headed, calculating, Ayame preempts her attack. Startlement seizes Stasya's nerves as she finds herself facing nothing but air and snared about the throat. The subsequent blow Ayame deals out is almost surgical in its precision, and the force of it sends Stasya even more fully into the narrow space once Ayame releases the hold of her whip. The girl stumbles to a halt amid the raucous refrain of glass breaking and shifting, and takes a few instants to recover: gasping in a few breaths.
There are a few moments of silence, in which the Viewers at Home strain their eyes to see into the darkness of the hole into which the student has disappeared. They're soon rewarded for their attentive patience. Stasya abruptly just -jumps- clear out of that aperture, aiming straight for Ayame with a frank sort of directness. Her aim? To uppercut a sharp upwards kick straight towards Ayame's jaw. Should that first blow connect, it'll lead into a downwards swipe of the raised heel back across the face, and then finally a full flash kick that sends the blonde into a full backflip and strikes with sufficient force to knock Ayame airborne. Perhaps most damningly, each of those blows bleeds a copious amount of keen-edged, blazing red psi energy.
COMBATSYS: Ayame dodges Stasya's Khanjali.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Ayame 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Stasya
Her tricky sequence pays off with a successful attack, leaving Stasya to stumble into the narrow corridor. Ayame doesn't pursue, waiting instead, her left hand gripping her staff, holding it at her side, her right hand weilding that whip that was, but moments ago, one of her many belts, letting the coiled length rest against the floor of the fun house. For all her bluster moments ago, she's strangely quiet now, brown eyes staring forward, unable see the other girl for the moment.
Some might think that's the end of the fight, decided in a couple vicious, unmerciful strikes. But Ayame knows better. The other girl is tougher than that. Though she's hit her with a lot of decisive strikes, she isn't done yet. She could tell that much when they clashed just a moment ago. The other girl is confused, for sure, by the words Ayame has tossed her way, but she isn't down, and that's still the goal. "You didn't know that, did you," she continues. "You're looking for others like you." She isn't remotely psychic, but that doesn't mean she can't read people... and that quest to find others like themselves seems to be a common thread amongst those with the power to carve through her energy defenses as if they were nothing. The taunting is gone from her voice though. She's merely stating an observation rather than mocking. A change in tactics or perhaps sincere curiosity...
And then from the space Stasya charges, aiming to deal a decisive strike that could very well wipe Ayame out were all those blows to connect. But in the time she's waited, she's been preparing, reviewing everything she's seen about Stasya movements, her speed, her angle of strikes, her psi manipulation... And when it comes time to defend herself, she moves with that same cool headed precision that's served her well the last few exchanges. The kick for her jaw is weaved around before she backsteps away from the followup. Only when the flashkick comes does Ayame finally take more evasive action, dropping down into a backward roll, coming up in a crouch a few meters back.
"It must be frightening to think perhaps you are the only one..." she muses as her right arm lashes out, sending the whip hurtling over the distance between them, aiming to snare Stasya by an arm and pull her back down to the ground before she can recover from her flash kicking attack. "Perhaps I can tell you of them..." Names, places to find them. Ayame offering help? There must be a catch!
COMBATSYS: Stasya endures Ayame's Quick Throw!!
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////// ]
Ayame 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Stasya
Stasya can hear the change in Ayame's voice. Both by physically listening to her voice, and by psychically 'hearing' the subtle change in emotional tone. She is quiet for some time, standing in the dark, narrow corridor out of sight of the cameras-- and out of sight of Ayame. Presently, an answer comes out of the dark: "For a long time, I -was- thinking I was the only one."
But the girl has not forgotten the fight. Far from it, as evidenced by what she follows her answer to Ayame with: that abrupt, psi-laced attack. But Ayame has learned Stasya's movements by now, and that knowledge pays off in this instance. It guides her around what could potentially have been an extremely devastating blow: indeed, one that could have decisively turned the tide of the battle.
The blonde isn't permitted to land and regain her equilibrium after that whiff, either. Stasya sees the lash coming when she's still in midair, and-- unable to do much about it-- she simply positions herself to take it. The whip coils about her arm, dragging her down and slamming her to the ground: the girl coughs a quiet sound of pain as she hits the floor, the breath knocked out of her. But still...
...she looks more struck by the offer Ayame suddenly fields.
A direct intensity seeps into her gaze as she regards the other girl. She pushes to her feet-- a bit unsteadily-- her eyes narrowed slightly, more in thought than antagonism. "I would be indebted," she eventually replies, her grey eyes now rife with a powerful fervence that translates even into her motions. She suddenly bolts towards Ayame, feinting in low at first before abruptly pushing off into a frontflip to bring a slashing axe kick down towards Ayame's shoulder: the axe component of it all, of course, being the hard-edged blade of psi that sheathes that downwards stroke. "Because I have been looking a long time."
COMBATSYS: Ayame counters Tyrfing from Stasya with Bright Renewal.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //// ]
Ayame 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Stasya
Yes. Yes you would, Ayame thinks to herself with regards to the Russian's remark of indebtedness. But her features are impassive, her mouth tight lipped, brown eyes never losing their focus. Her verbal probing into the other girl's fears, desires, goals, and hopes have served her well this fight, letting her pick Stasya to pieces, just as she had stated she would the moment she had found out she was a weilder of that strange, mental energy. And unfortunately for the blonde, things don't get any better as she tries to strike out for Ayame with that axe kick.
The whip is dropped to the floor of the mirrored enclosure as Ayame slams her staff up, catching Stasya beneath the knee. Her blade of psi extends down still, but only manages to scratch Ayame's shoulder before being stopped short by the intersecting staff. Stepping up into the strike to try and throw Staysa even further off balance, she sweeps down with the other end of the weapon after a certain point to take the perhaps confused girl's other leg right out from under her to drop her to the ground. "You're in no condition to continue," Ayame states coolly, standing practically unphased, the only signs of battle being the faint trickle of blood on her lip and her breaths coming a little harder now. Counting her out entirely?
"But I will help you find others like you. One of them will surely have the answers you seek." Again proving to be rather astute with her perceptions, making up for a lack of the deeper level intuition Stasya is able to draw on by raw scrutiny and years of experience at this sort of thing.
Intercepted and sent hard to the ground, Stasya lands jarringly on a shoulder and rolls thereafter to hands and knees. She stays there an instant, long blonde hair obscuring her features and trailing on the floor. She's in a considerably worse state than her opponent, though there is little actual blood to be seen-- the only weapon used, after all, was that staff, and such a blunt instrument draws little blood save for where it splits the skin and breaks the vessels beneath the skin.
She doesn't let herself stay there for long. Some insane sense of pride drives her to her feet, resurrecting her out of that pained stillness into a stiff stance no less unmoving: but this time, upright. She throws her hair back with some difficulty, her tired grey eyes focusing on Ayame. She half-listens to the girl's first few words of confident declaration, her attention instead on what few options remain to her.
Never having been a fan of futile attempts to avoid that which is inevitable, she opts to follow the course of action that results in a complete failure to move. Grey eyes cool, the slant of her gaze proud despite the slightly-shaking ruin she doubtless looks, she considers Ayame's repeated offer with an incongruous magnanimity. Her eyes fix intensely on her opponent: watching her carefully. "To make such an offer..." The girl trails slightly as a stab of pain reminds herself of the broken bones she sports. A heavy pause as her eyes harden-- she is containing that agony-- before she continues: "...I will hold you to it, you know."
COMBATSYS: Stasya focuses on her next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //// ]
Ayame 0/-------/-======|=====--\-------\0 Stasya
In reply to Stasya's struggled reply Ayame merely nods her head just ever so slightly, the gesture almost imperceptible but for the person it was intended for. A silent acknowledgement and acceptance. Those who know Ayame all too well might find her word to completely worthless and being suspicious that the moment the fight is over she might act like she has no idea what offer Stasya is referring to... But for now, at least, there's no reason for the Russian to not trust the duplicitous youth.
Her opponent insists on getting back up, though Ayame's thoughts on her continuing on in spite where the fight has gone would be difficult to read, as she's utterly silent now, watching and studying this determined girl. And then Ayame strides forward, not moving fast - she doesn't have to, her prey isn't going anywhere in her mind.
That blunt staff is put to use again as she steps into range, this time with a single, high to low angled swing, aiming to smack the girl right where her neck meets her shoulder. Should she strike, she follows through with the rebound of the weapon into a spin that leaves the weapon angled across in front of her defensively.
COMBATSYS: Stasya fails to interrupt Medium Strike from Ayame with Angurva'del.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Ayame 0/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Stasya can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Ayame 0/-------/=======|
Indeed, Stasya is unaware of Ayame's tendency towards empty promise and duplicity. Even if her empathy registers any of that and tries to warn her not to get her hopes up, the excitement-- the desire to believe it's true and Ayame will keep her word-- is powerful enough to override the nagging feeling at the back of her mind. The nod is vague. It's almost purposefully reserved in its careful avoidance of any concrete oath. But nonetheless, it is accepted.
Caught up in thought and excitement, the girl tries to focus on the immediate moment; but it's hard. Her mind keeps drifting towards possibilities, towards faint hopes... Ayame's approach is slow, measured-- Stasya sees openings, weak points, potential areas where she could break through. She attempts to close, a flare of red psi accompanying her forwards momentum. However, Ayame is quick to bring her staff into play the moment she is within range: and she's within striking distance far earlier than Stasya is, due to the length of the weapon.
Rebuffed, Stasya is knocked to a low three-point from the downwards momentum of the strike: skidding a short distance to the left. For a moment it seems as if she'll try to get up, but eventually she just... doesn't. And she concedes that she won't be, not anytime soon. Ayame has won the fight-- but it's clear to see that Stasya, while recognizing this, does not think she has necessarily -lost- it. Not judging by the intent look in her eyes, the intensity the mark of a reserved girl self-consciously containing the excitement she feels. After all, it's led her to something else.
Ayame claims she'll help Stasya find others like her. The girl is silent-- not out of disbelief, mistakenly enough, but out of a surprise at such willingness to give aid. "You are generous to offer such help," she eventually says, demurring and polite. "I do not ask much. Names, addresses, means of contact." Ways to find them herself, if need be.
Her strike connects but Ayame doesn't relax at first, remaining in a defensive, prepared position, weapon in front of her, presenting a formidable obsticle to get around if one hopes to defeat the tricky fighter. But for all her tricks and lack of anything resembling scruples most of the time, here and now she seems to be very much on the level. Stasya can't keep fighting and she isn't going to attack the girl any further once that realization is confirmed.
Slipping her staff into a position to rest against her shoulder, she half turns, jamming the weapon up backward behind her, sending it piercing through the only remaining camera for this chamber, having destroyed the other one near the start of the match. Lowering the weapon after making sure that there's no more recording going on. The SNF people got their footage, what happens afterward is none of their business in her mind.
A couple steps forward are taken and the staff lowered. With a press of a button near the center, the long weapon collapses in on itself, becoming a half-foot long metal tube instead of the six foot long weapon of destruction it was a moment ago. Ayame twirls the tube in her hand before sliding it into the pouch affixed to her belt, tucking it away. Crouching down, Ayame slips her hand back into her pouch, pulling a cell phone out.
Flipping the phone open, the plastic body lights up with bright neon pink. Flashy! The girl peers at the screen, pushing some keys for a moment, before flipping it closed and holding it out toward the Russian, "Here. There's only one number in the contact list on this phone now, it's also the only number that it can call out on. It will give you a voice mail box. When you want to get together and learn what I know, just leave a message."
Her expression shifts into a faint smile, brown eyes seemingly gentle for the moment. "I hope you're able to get to Southtown, Japan, since that's where all the ones I've found are at. Maybe it's something about that city, or perhaps just its propensity to attract those trying to understand their fighting powers..."
She shrugs a little, "Saa... who knows? Next time we meet, I'll give you the information you're looking for. Unfortunately, with many of them, I'll have to help you find them myself, as I don't always have names and while I know where some can be found, I don't have addresses or a means of identifying them other than seeing them again." She offers the friendliest smile one can imagine on a pretty Asian teen, "I hope that's not too much trouble."
Stasya watches as Ayame knocks out the last camera recording in the room. In any other context there would have been something vaguely sketchy about the behavior, but here... it's appropriate. Stasya isn't really interested in talking about this on international TV, either.
But she's not really in a condition to assist with the purge of recording equipment, either, so she just stays right where she is and watches Ayame deftly fold that staff away. Interesting and effective, she thinks to herself, the long reach that weapon affords her. Its length was certainly quite efficient in stopping most of Stasya's attempts to get close, a fact which reveals to the girl that she needs to refine a way to handle long-range fighters. Her own techniques are great at handling things close-range, but against such a fighter as Ayame... her options are more limited.
There will be other times in which to think about that issue, however; in the here and now, the information Ayame offers to her is more important. Stasya accepts the phone promptly, perhaps even a bit too trustingly, her grey eyes dropping to regard it as she listens in attentive silence to the other girl's instructions. Despite that outward semblance of trust, however, Stasya -is- maintaining some reasonable wariness beneath that pressing excitement. She's a little too worldly not to be careful, even if she is naive in other ways.
"I am attending school in Southtown. Is not problem." Stasya gives the phone a critical once-over, flipping it open and studying the contact list herself before shutting it with a nod. The small item gets pocketed. "And is no trouble that you must show me in this way. I am thinking I understand. I will contact you."
There is a long pause of a few moments. Then the girl finally manages to rise, a bit shaky but nonetheless, likely capable of walking out under her own power. "...Thank you."
Ayame doesn't help Stasya up, rising to a standing position once the phone is taken and the instructions are understood. Stasya's intuition will have a hard time detecting dishonesty in anything Ayame has said or what her intentions are. All signals seem to point to the girl just being remarkably altruistic for no apparent reason. There is... beneath the surface, a hint of urgency, maybe even the slightest tinge of nervousness, but it doesn't seem related to any intention of reneging on her offer.
It does get expressed a little, however, "Oh, you are in Southtown presently? That's convenient." She smiles faintly, "I guess that city really DOES draw everyone like you there... one way or another. Don't take too long to get back with me. Many of the people you are looking for are wanderers; the more time that passes, the harder it will be." She sounds very insistant about this point.
There is a slight bow of her head, "Thank you for the fight, Staysa... Dasvidania..." she finishes with a bit of a grin, the Russian spoken crisply and clearly again. And then she spins on her heels in order to begin to stride off.
It's indeed hard for Stasya to read Ayame. It's been hard to read her all through the fight. She'd gotten a few little quirks from the girl, certainly, a few hints of that vague nervous urgency, but on the whole? Stasya is still, empathically, a novice, and so Ayame is too difficult a subject for her at this juncture. Powerful, widely-broadcasted emotion is the sort of stuff she picks up clearly. Deeply-hidden things, things dissembled carefully away by masters of duplicity? Stasya doesn't suspect anything.
No, the wariness she bears is far more mundane than that: the wary caution of a girl that is fully, cynically aware of the realities the world hides. Stasya doesn't know the first thing about being a normal schoolgirl, and it's because she grew up in so many varied, sometimes sketchy places. Because she was taught to always be careful by parents who knew just how bad people could get. It's the legacy of a father who moved in a dangerous world, the mark of her upbringing as the unwitting child of a criminal.
But really, there's no reason to distrust Ayame now. Is there? Even if there is, Stasya wants to find those answers just a little bit more than she worries about how she's going to get them. She's morally grey like that, despite her enrollment at a high school known for its strict ideals of vigilante justice.
Besides, you never get anywhere if you're too overly cautious to reach out and take what you want.
She certainly seems prepared to take Ayame at her word now. A faint nod given to Ayame's addendum and insistent warning, the Russian essays a slight incline of her own head in answer to Ayame's farewell. The girl's grin is answered with one of Stasya's own at that impeccable Russian: a brief expression flashed even as Stasya herself turns away.
Log created on 22:23:52 01/11/2008 by Ayame, and last modified on 18:50:51 01/15/2008.