Description: On an ordinary night in Southtown's docks, illegal business on Southsynd territory takes place out of watchful Syndicate eyes--or so one would think. What may have very well been a successful operation ends abruptly with the arrival of Shihong Mao, who seeks to put right this terrible wrong by using violence. However, unexpected was Suzume Nakatani and, more importantly, her particular style...
This is, for the most part, Syndicate territory. And yet, there is activity transpiring here this night that is not Syndicate-affiliated in the slightest.
Under a half-hearted moon and drifting, wispy clouds, an operation of the utmost discreetness unfolds in one of the more remote dockyards on the far side of the harbor. Crawling antlike in silence in the wavering light thrown by flickering lamps, a small group of subdued people works diligently at unloading a ship of its cargo... and nearby, a young woman perches in silence on a stack of crates, overlooking the middle of their route with an unmoving watchfulness.
Suzume is glad, in a distant sort of way, that she was only contracted for this one daring operation... for this one evening. She already dislikes this entire affair. She can feel the imbalance of risk and gain here, feel it so strongly the stupidity disgusts her. What gain is there in cutting corners by unloading shipments here, rather than elsewhere? Merely the gain of a few hours' time; the gain of some money saved. What risk is there? The chance-- no, the near certainty-- of Syndicate discovery, which could have devastating repercussions.
For Suzume's employer, that is. Not so much for her. She is entirely unconnected to him save for her agreement to work these few dead-of-night hours; an incidental presence, paid to stick around here for just this one evening. But she already knows the strength of the Syndicate in this city, despite only having been here a short time-- and as such she takes precautions: precautions in the form of a strip of silk about the lower half of her face. Unwilling to polarize herself in Southtown's complicated landscape quite so quickly, she banks upon that... and upon the fact that she will, unless something goes wrong, go largely unnoticed, passed over as a mere tool.
Her long coat flutters slightly as the wind picks up. She tightens her grasp on the handle of a long, slender object held loosely across her lap.
No matter how small the group, or how seemingly insignificant their operations may be...
It hardly escapes the vigilant eyes of Southtown Syndicate.
In the cover of night, beneath the dull glow of moonlight, an operation is afoot, as men work in the utmost silence, unloading cargo for their masters. Observing this is their caretaker and protector of the night, a quiet woman who may very well be more statue than a living, breathing human being there upon the crates she's found perch upon. And she is doubtlessly far wiser than her employers, because eventually...
They were going to be found out.
The darkness is suddenly shattered by a pair of halogen headlights from an unmarked black Sedan as it slams its brakes. The car's boot fishtails, drawing the car around in a half-circle before it stops, those lights focused entirely on the shipment unloaded by a few men. It's loud. It's less-than discreet.
It's probably Syndicate.
The driver's side door opens with a click, and instantly a long, Gucci-heel clad leg emerges. Planting firmly onto the cracked asphalt drive of the dockyard, a woman soon follows, clad entirely in a black pinstripe blazer, corset top and slacks. Black eyes are fixed on the men frozen in her Sedan's headlights, their expressions of shock and disbelief absolutely priceless- -so much so the woman's rouge red lips slowly but surely ease into a devilish grin.
"There's an old proverb I'm particularly fond of, back where I'm from," the woman states, shutting the car's door, leaving it idling as she steps forward. Long legs glide the woman along with frightening grace, her chin aloft as she approaches the gathering of men who look ready to drop the cargo at any given moment. Yet she pauses, her gaze straying briefly to note Suzume, before her attentions turn onto the men once more.
Her feet pause as she wanders dangerous close, her lips spreading into a toothy smirk.
"They say and ant may very well destroy a whole dam. Do you know what that means?"
She glances briefly again to Suzume, before glancing back to the men.
"It means," the Chinese woman begins, walking forward once more, right for the men and their cargo. "That should one overlook something small and insignificant it could very well escalate into something far more disastrous. In this case, you are all the ants. This is the dam. Do you see what I'm getting at?"
Another glance to Suzume, who at this point seems somewhat out of place here.
The woman in black shrugs, offering a light laugh...before almost suddenly and unexpectedly pivoting on that three inch reinforced heel of her stiletto and swings the back of her other heel clean into the side of one man's head.
None of these men are anything but utterly, completely average. The unfortunate target of Shihong's attentions is knocked straight into unconsciousness instantly by the first casual crack of her heel, his unresisting frame sent crashing across the docks. The remaining men, handily intimidated, stumble over themselves backing away, dropping their burdens. The clack of wood against wood is loud-- up until a quiet voice scissors through the noise with the precision of shears through silk.
"Enough."
In the time Shihong took to incapacitate that one man, Suzume has left her perch and is already walking towards the confrontation, the cadence of her light steps largely hidden by the sweep of her black coat. No sound had heralded either her careful stand, nor her equally-careful dismount from those crates. A neutral sort of look haunts her lips, her heavily-lidded eyes half-hiding a frown. She comes to a stop exactly five feet away from Shihong; she measured it by eye, encapsulating that analysis in the space of a slow blink. "These men were not the ones hired to entertain contingencies like yourself."
Suzume takes a two-handed grasp on that smooth length of unremarkable wood, holding it in a careful vertical. A slight click, and what initially seemed a walking stick splits to bare an inch of steel. Offhandedly, she comments to her dumbfounded charges without turning her head, "You know what to do."
The men shake themselves out of their stupor. Some cut towards the trucks already sitting ready; some head back in the other direction, towards the ship. Suzume seems to have already forgotten their existence, because she's currently too busy ensuring said existences continue (not, however, because the existences are valuable in themselves, but because they are valuable in safely absconding with the far more important cargo). At the first aggressive move Shihong attempts to make to cut off any of this activity, Suzume's blade rakes free of its sheath.
The woman moves quickly, efficiently. Sword in one hand, scabbard in the other, Suzume attempts to ward Shihong off with a businesslike stroke aimed shallowly at the other woman's torso.
COMBATSYS: Suzume has started a fight here.
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Suzume 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Shihong has joined the fight here.
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Suzume 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shihong
COMBATSYS: Shihong just-defends Suzume's Medium Strike!
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Suzume 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shihong
The moment Shihong's heel cracks into the side of the poor, defenseless man's head, an expression of sheer delight and satisfaction chisels its way over her pale face. While it's by no means half as fun to beat up on people who can't really fight back, it helps drive home a point she came here to make. There will be no illegal dealings on Southtown Syndicate territory. If her scared-straight tactics work, well.
The battle's won. And she gets to pick on people in the process.
"This is far too easy," she mulls, as she begins to chamber a leg, until a voice commands from behind her. Initially, the Chinese woman seems puzzled, which, in turn, draws a bemused expression over the features of the other men gathered around. The voice has only one owner here, obviously feminine and undoubtedly belonging to the gargoyle-like woman on the crates. The smile on Shihong's lips widens.
Slowly and calmly, Shihong turns on her heels, to face the approaching woman with a tiny smirk. Every movement is noted, every slight gesture observed as she holds her ground. Let this mysterious woman come; she doesn't seem the least bit concerned. If anything, Shihong finds herself intrigued by this sudden twist and the prospect of not wasting her time here.
"You've a point," the woman ultimately replies, her lips spreading into a large smirk. "I was worried I would be wasting my talents in the end, but. Well," She pauses, red eyes hooding as she regards the woman before her. "If you're up to the task," Eyes narrow further as the 'staff' is grasped, and the tiniest glint of steel can be seen.
She waits for the right moment, as Suzume regards the men, scattering them. And then?
Action.
Black eyes flash a discreet shade of red, eyes wide as the woman watches Suzume move quickly. In one smooth stroke she seeks to cut the woman across her abdomen, and yet, in the blink of an eye--
The woman has suddenly caught that polished steel between her hands.
"Then please, entertain me."
With a shove of her clasped hands, the woman attempts to redirect Suzume's blade, all while bringing her left leg up for a high turning kick aimed for the temple of her forehead with a sharp, guttural cry.
COMBATSYS: Suzume blocks Shihong's Medium Kick.
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Suzume 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Shihong
Suzume is no less intrigued than Shihong at the prospect of actually getting to do more than sit and watch men walk back and forth. However, her expression reveals nothing more than a faint, polite regard. She remains unmoving, save for the slight motion of her clothes as wind tugs at them like a restless child. Not even her eyes shift from their level regard.
She does not need to reply Shihong as to whether she's up to the task. She simply elects to show rather than tell. Her first sharp blow cuts not to kill, but certainly to injure; however, Shihong soon demonstrates she has no small amount of ability herself.
Suzume considers her trapped blade. Her gaze redirects to Shihong at about the time the other woman forces her weapon wide, attempting to drive a kick into the opening she presumes she's made--
--except there is no opening. Not this time. That kick meets the smooth wood of the ninja's scabbard, brought abruptly around in a guard. Suzume frowns, faintly, as the impact transfers down her left arm.
"This sort of talent," Suzume comments, "is rarely found in petty circles." Her stance opens slightly, stabilizing her after the force of Shihong's kick. "You came on behalf of the Syndicate. Yes?"
Suzume doesn't wait for an actual answer before she attacks again. Her left arm drops, the motion little more than a distraction-- so much visual white noise to confuse the eyes. Her retracted right arm pierces forwards afterwards, a stabbing strike aimed towards Shihong's left shoulder.
COMBATSYS: Shihong interrupts Random Weapon from Suzume with Swallow's Wings.
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Suzume 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
The woman is without a doubt pleased at this sort of revelation. A woman, wielding a sword, who is clearly the 'alpha' of the group, in that unlike the men she diligently observed and patiently watched over, far more skilled and ready to put up a worthwhile fight.
Oh, the woman muses silently. This will be fun!
Swinging a leg up and toward the Japanese woman's head, there comes a sobering realization when, sadly, the scabbard of the swordswoman's blade intercepts her kick. "Huh," the woman idly mulls, black eyes flickering toward her stopped leg before turning her eyes back onto Suzume. A smile blossoms over her pale, porcelain-white features.
"A compliment? Oh, why thank you," she replies, lips curling into a demure smile, black eyes half-lidded in muted delight. "As for where I come from, well."
If Suzume intends on keeping her from providing an actual answer, Shihong seems willing to oblige the other woman for the moment. Despite the feint of Suzume's left arm, the Chinese woman does not seem distracted. Instead, the woman braces herself, legs spreading into an l-stance as she lifts her left arm, the forearm crossing over her forehead. Just as the right arm of Suzume's thrusts outward and drives a harsh point into Shihong's left shoulder, she suddenly lifts her right arm and, with a burst of red psychic energy between her palm and Suzume's stomach, delivers a concussive burst to stagger the woman.
Only after does the woman step back and, with a careful, ginger rub, mends her aching shoulder.
"If you're still curious, which I assume you are.., yes. I am here on behalf of Southsynd," she replies, another grin spreading over her lips.
Suzume's blade bites, drawing blood-- but instantly, her mysterious opponent retaliates, blasting the woman with a strange red energy. Actual surprise prints itself in Suzume's dark eyes for a few moments then. She has felt this energy only a bare handful of times before in her life, and she has never known what it was... or liked it all that much.
Still, at the least... it makes things even more interesting.
"Ah--" she notes, surprisingly articulately: a little winded from the sheer force of that blow. For a few moments, that is about all she can manage between her steadying breaths, hair falling across one eye as she coils a bit and gauges Shihong carefully. Having felt that psychic force, she seems more inclined now to take her time... reading into her opponent's movements with an exacting care.
"As I am aware, Southsynd possesses something of a monopoly upon this city," she eventually continues. Silence. A few heartbeats flutter past. "You might see where this would concern me."
Suzume does not intend to waste her time much longer with the inferior elements of the city. It is not in her nature to champion causes. And if she cannot entrench herself well in Southtown, she will not waste the time staying when there are countless other cities in the world. She had had rather high hopes for this particular city, however... so few other places are -quite- like Southtown.
COMBATSYS: Suzume focuses on her next action.
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Suzume 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
Fortunately for Shihong, she chose to wear black, which does wonders in masking the blood that weeps from the wound in her shoulder. Unfortunately, there is a hole in her nice tailored blazer now. This draws the tiniest of frowns over rouge red lips. It would seem she has to visit another tailor in Chinatown again.
Shihong sighs lightly, fingers gently coaxing at the wound.
But as the woman before her speaks once more, those black eyes drift upwards, focusing on the Japanese swordswoman. "Hmm, well. Yes." Shihong replies, eyes half-lidded in amusement. "As you can now see, there is a certain vested interest in seeing that any illegal, non-sanctioned business here is otherwise unwanted." But what follows next, well. That causes the pale-faced woman to blink once in muted surprise.
"Concern you?" the Chinese woman replies. "In what fashion, if I may so inquire, miss..?"
After all, she has no name with which to address this woman. She pauses briefly, before:
"By the way, you can call me Shihong. So tell me,"
Kicking into motion once more, the woman in black hops up, lifting one knee to gain height before she twists her body and snaps the other leg out, intending to strike the woman swiftly with a back kick from the opposite leg. Speed over strength.
"What are your intentions, then?"
COMBATSYS: Suzume blocks Shihong's Short Kick.
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Suzume 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
"In the fashion," Suzume replies thoughtfully, "that I dislike working for the amateur and the powerless." The woman is a loyal sort, after all, almost psychotically committed to perfection in her chosen assignments; to be so thorough for those anything less than the best-- or close to the best-- is simply, in the end... not cost-effective in the least. "My intention, then? To profess interest in the Syndicate: to gauge if my interest might be returned. My current obligations, after all, cease after tonight."
Suzume straightens up. She watches Shihong wind up for another kick, and abruptly... her blade suddenly slams back into its scabbard. The sheathed weapon intercepts the kick in a deft block, and in the next motion Suzume thrusts her right leg back in a wide brace and turns so her left shoulder faces the other woman: simultaneously shoving away with her sheathed weapon.
In the next moment, her blade rakes back out of the scabbard, turned edge-up and point forwards. It winds up like a spring coiling, cocking back at the focal point of her rear shoulder. Her left wrist snakes its way into a leather loop at the mouth of her scabbard, freeing her left hand: it comes up to take hold of the blade's hilt, her right hand shifting to palm the pommel.
"Suzume," she replies, almost as an afterthought; and then she thrusts forwards in a sudden lunge, piercing her blade forwards towards Shihong's torso. At the last moment she lets go her left hand and follows through completely with the right alone, the effect suddenly extending her reach by inches.
COMBATSYS: Suzume successfully hits Shihong with Yamazakura.
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Suzume 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Shihong
And upon the blade's first contact with Shihong, a sudden blast of twisting white chi snarls down the blade, sharpening to an electric point beyond the weapon's tip in an attempt to rive even deeper into flesh than the cold steel already has.
The woman does not immediately reply to Suzume; instead, she makes her move, her short and swift back kick otherwise deflected by the swordswoman by way of scabbard. It draws a discreet frown over her rouge lips, black eyes alight with amusement, even as the woman shoves her away. Shihong lightly staggers on her heels. And then, moments later--
Pain.
The blade drives fiercely into the woman's torso, the very savage gesture the woman exhales loudly, her grunt bleeding into a stifled cry of pain. But she preserves as best she can. At least until the sudden eruption of fiercely white hot chi, crackling with energy spears cleanly into her torso. It erupts, causing her agony and drawing a full-fledged yelp to escape her as she stumbles back and away, very nearly losing her footing. Somehow, fortunate for Shihong, she maintains.
"Is that so?" the woman replies, sounding mildly intrigued at the woman's admittance, despite the raspy tone she employs. So, she has interests in Southtown Syndicate and its operations? Grinning promptly thereafter, the woman exhales, offering a shrug before she admits, "I can't really decide that, you know. But...if you impress me enough I can guide you to someone who can. What do you say?
"I think it's a fair deal," she adds, watching the other woman with newfound intensity.
COMBATSYS: Shihong focuses on her next action.
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Suzume 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Shihong
Without a change in expression, without any visible compunctions or hesitation, Suzume drives home a cruel blow of her sword. She tightens her grip thereafter, her stance setting solidly, and as Shihong falters the swordswoman pauses... and then -rips- her blade back out again in one smooth, lightning-fast movement. The gesture is, despite its outwards appearance of savagery, a small courtesy Suzume pays Shihong; to remove the blade so quickly and evenly is to -lessen- the pain of its exit.
Retracting back to a ready stance, a deft twist and flick of her wrist shedding the blood from her blade, Suzume considers her opponent. Still lucid-- no, even better than lucid, fully operational-- even after such a blow. If she is any indication of what inhabits the ranks of Southsynd, Suzume is convinced of the justification of her refusal to look into work with anyone less. Suzume is not interested in keeping company with mediocrity.
"Hmm," she muses, considering Shihong's words. She had expected someone out on 'field duty' like this, as it were, would not be the decisionmaker; but she also expected that such a person could nonetheless give her a better idea of how to go about gathering information.
Shihong just did her one better with that offer. "...Fair enough," is her reply, as she sheathes her sword again and swaps the shikomizue to her left hand. Her right lifts... to her ear, and removes one of her long dangly earrings. It's not clear what exactly she's getting up with that until one feels that subtle flex of chi-- centered around the small trinket-- or sees the spark of white energy that abruptly -reforms- the metal. The woman is left holding a long, thin senbon, a six-inch throwing needle, and the weapon is thrown deftly at Shihong, attempting to embed somewhere painful and disrupt her concentration.
COMBATSYS: Shihong blocks Suzume's Thrown Object.
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Suzume 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Shihong
The other woman, meanwhile, observes with a keen eye, black depths sparking with the tiniest hints of muted red as she patiently waits. What will this 'Suzume' woman's ultimate answer be? Will she take the offer--the only real, decent offer that Shihong can provide her with--or simply cast it off as not being 'good enough?' Were Shihong a more dramatic woman, she may wait with baited breath.
But, ultimately her response comes, pleasing the woman. "Good, good," Shihong replies, arms folding neatly over her chest before she cracks a wide smile. "I am a woman of my word, I assure you, should you possibly harbor any doubt." With that, the woman takes a step forward--but is promptly halted, as the Japanese woman removes her earring and reshapes it with her chi. It causes Shihong to tilts her head, long, insanely straight black locks spilling beyond her shoulders in mild confusion.
And then it is thrown. Cutting a straight line through empty air, the senbon sails for her body, and meets flesh. Sort of; rather than drive a clean hit, the senbon cuts through the woman's palm, caught in Shihong's hand just mere millimeters from her chest. "Resourceful," she mulls aloud. "A definite plus."
Without further word, the woman lunges forward, sharp heels clicking against aging asphalt. She charges for Suzume and, in one smooth motion, seeks to seize the woman by her arm and wrench it painfully, joint-locking it. Should she find success, the woman does not hesitate to suddenly scale the front of her body with her three inch heels, still holding fast to her arm. At the apex, the woman's legs swing up, momentarily airborne before she slams her heels down harshly, a surge of vermillion red psychic energy erupting from her heels as she drives Suzume forward into asphalt, followed by another burst to give Shihong the momentum to launch herself OFF of the other woman's prone body.
COMBATSYS: Suzume fails to counter Savage Tiger from Shihong with Kizakura.
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Suzume 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Shihong
Suzume is cold, but she is not pretentious. She understands how things work by now, and her jaded experience means she's pretty much aware that it would simply be sheer naivete to consider such an offer 'not good enough.' After all, it's these sorts of people who must be most alert as to what kinds of counsel they keep. To demand any more solid commitment than what Shihong has given would be foolish.
So she accepts it. Shihong's subsequent words affirming her trustworthiness are simply listened to, Suzume nodding with a curt precision that betrays neither overt belief or overt disbelief in their veracity. "Good; I shall hold to you them," she replies, and then she lets that needle fly.
She is unsurprised that it is deftly intercepted. The aim was less to cause damage and more to disturb focus. But it seems both intents are to be left somewhat unfulfilled, for when Shihong comes lunging in again there is little sign that she is anything but completely focused; at least, to the eyes of Suzume. The swordswoman abruptly tries to unsheath her blade -into- Shihong's snatch at her arm, aiming to smash it aside so she can open Shihong to a followup thrust of the blade; but the Chinese woman is moments faster.
Armlocked and immobile, Suzume lets go a sharp hiss as those heels scale her-- and then come slamming down with devastating force and a blast of that painful red energy, the combination of the two sending her straight into the ground. She coughs a little bloodily, wiping the redness from her lips, fully resheathes her half-bared blade... and eventually, with time, pulls herself back to her feet. "Interesting," she muses, her voice thick with blood.
For all of Suzume's best attempts, the Chinese woman out-maneuvers her in that fateful moment, seizing a firm hold of her arm before wrenching and unleashing subsequent pain. Ultimately she drives the poor woman face-first into the ground, Shihong herself using the force of Psycho Power to launch herself free, body flipping midair before she lands in a low crouch nearby.
"I must say the same for you. There aren't many I've come across thus far in my 'travels' that utilize weaponry AND unnatural energy." Well, at least chi is 'unnatural' to her. Rising swiftly, she turns and folds her arms over her chest, giving the other woman a moment to pull herself up to her feet. "Or with such brutal efficiency. I think I like you so far!"
A friendly laugh slips past Shihong's red lips, arms dropping from her sides as they rest akimbo on her hips. She takes it slow for the moment, pacing forward a few steps, chin aloft as she looks to Suzume. "If I may ask, what is your style called?"
And like before, when Suzume asked her a question, Shihong races forward, pausing midway in-between to leap, land in a handstand before she handsprings off of her hands and drives both heels right for the other woman's chest.
COMBATSYS: Suzume blocks Shihong's Strong Kick.
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Suzume 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Shihong
Recovering quietly, Suzume takes a moment just to listen to Shihong's amiable words. Letting her blade click back home in its sheath, she drifts her eyes downwards slightly as she smiles a little to herself. What is her style called?
"It's a family style. Thus, it bears our name." She speaks, and simultaneously, she defends; Shihong comes rushing in with a powerful kick, and Suzume snaps her sheathed weapon up to bear the brunt of the blow. It still slams the weapon into Suzume's chest... but better she be hit by the smooth wood than those pointed heels. "And efficiency is a major component of it--"
She shifts, her side presenting to Shihong-- her sheathed blade primes in her grasp, one hand upon the hilt and the other gripping the scabbard. In a single blurring movement, she unsheathes the blade and cleaves down towards Shihong, the vertical arcing blow carving down in an overhead. The blade sparks with more of that crackling white chi, the energy lining the blade again extending its reach.
COMBATSYS: Shihong blocks Suzume's Shidarezakura.
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Suzume 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Shihong
"Oh, one of those," the woman replies easily, a grin edging its way over her thin lips. They aren't spiteful, or even sarcastic words; rather, they are thoughtful, were she pondering aloud. A moment later black eyes hood smoothly, the corners of her lips twitching lightly as her smile broadens. "I must be fortunate today," the woman begins.
But she moves, cutting herself off to lunge at the woman. A swift and efficient swordswoman, Suzume's sheath again absorbs the real brunt of the blow, sharp heels intercepted by the length of smooth, well-polished wood she brandishes defensively. Shihong, in response, pushes off and lands in a slight crouch, heels sliding a few centimeters before she rises.
"It's not every day I get to fight people like you."
Efficiency? Black eyes flicker, widening ever so slightly as the blade unsheathes in one blinding motion and cuts down at the other woman, daring to carve her in twain. The Chinese woman responds by bracing her legs tightly and holding her arms up, letting the blade--and the white chi that crackles along the edge and beyond--cut across her forearms.
Better that pain than the pain of a clean strike, she privately assures herself.
With little more than a smile, Shihong is a blur of motion: leaping high before she lands low, right in front of Suzume without hesitating. Legs erupt with psychic flames, both heels shooting out like a snake to clip her harshly in the legs. And should she connect, a split second later one psi-imbued leg shoots upwards, to clip the woman in the jaw, followed by the other foot in a stagger motion that ultimately brings Shihong into a full-fledged handstand.
COMBATSYS: Shihong successfully hits Suzume with Coiled Serpent EX.
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Suzume 1/-----==/=======|=======\==-----\1 Shihong
The evasive maneuvers Shihong executes before her actual strikes connect do their task in confusing Suzume as to her angle of attack. Initially thinking to defend high, she is fractionally too slow in switching to guard low. Her balance upset by the first sweep, it's a simple matter for Shihong subsequently to break through Suzume's attempted defenses and slam her twice in the jaw. Suzume is -knocked- a full three paces back in a stagger, panting quick breaths through the taste of copper and taking a moment to let the world reorient.
Once she's got her wits back, she lets her eyes fall back on Shihong; pain shoots through her head as she focuses. "Excellent," she breathes, a little laboriously. "It is not every day," she finally replies Shihong's comments, her own words spoken delicately through the blood unspooling from her lips, "I am pushed quite so hard by an opponent."
Privately, she was also impressed at Shihong's willingness to guard against her sword like that. Not many have the physical fortitude or mental bravery to intercept cold steel with their bare flesh.
She only wastes a moment on that contemplation. In the next, she's in motion: lunging forwards to kill the distance between herself and Shihong in a blink of movement. Her blade, which had resheathed in the wake of her earlier attack, rakes out of its scabbard again in a punishing and lightning-quick draw; it aims to cut downwards clear from shoulder to opposite hip, carving deep. There is a moment's pause, and then a matching blast of slashing white chi repeats the pattern of the cut in a carving burst of light, a second blow with which to contend.
COMBATSYS: Shihong dodges Suzume's Yugao.
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Suzume 0/-------/------=|=======\==-----\1 Shihong
From her handstand, the woman lowers her legs, one at a time, heels clicking lightly against asphalt as she comes to stand upright once more. And still, on pale features, a smile haunts her face, eyes filled with amusement and subdued delight. It masks the stinging pain of her stomach, where the wound still weeps, the aftereffects of Suzume's biting chi still aching. Blood falls from pale fingertips, where the gashes on her forearms still bleed.
"Then I'm glad. Because I can also say the same of you."
When the woman moves suddenly, Shihong is on high alert. Watching her feet, the woman bites her bottom lip, waiting patiently in that span of mere...seconds to make the right choice. She can only hope her feet won't fail her, as Suzume's blade leaves its polished scabbard. Three, two...
One.
The moment the blade slices a path for Shihong, the woman flips a hair's breadth out of the way, glinting steel cutting through the leg of her slack's fabric with frightening ease. Handplanting, she springs off her palms, leaping once more just as the bright white chi erupts in the wake of the sword's slash, sheer, unrestrained power weeping from the burst of near-blinding energy.
Shihong's heart races in that moment, eyes wide as she lets her breath escape past her lips.
"Oh my," the woman breathlessly murmurs. "Scary."
A sigh escapes Shihong's lips, eyes drawing to a close as she ponders aloud. "You've shown me some impressive feats, miss Suzume. I am most pleased. So, I should return the favor." Pausing, the Chinese woman lightly bows her head to the other woman. "It won't be quite as scary as yours, but..."
Charging forth a split-second later, the woman gains speed in mere seconds. And as she closes in the woman's body erupts with energy once more, legs aflame as she delivers not one but two aerial, handless cartwheels with every intention of pummeling poor Suzume with her flaming heels. However, after the second rotation, the woman lands in a deep crouch, arms outstretched at her sides. The energy around her feet erupt fiercely, launching her upwards and backwards, and should her toes connect with Suzume, that energy erupts again, to launch the other woman high above into the dark skies above.
COMBATSYS: Shihong successfully hits Suzume with Vermillion Sparrow.
[ < > /////////////// ]
Suzume 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Shihong
Suzume skids to a halt. Her clean blade hums low at her side, no blood upon it; her scabbard hovers at her left. The woman holds her stance an instant before she recovers to a ready, a slight flick of the blade discharging excess chi. Her black eyes reorient on Shihong, calm and still unshakable-- even here and now, when she can feel her body giving out.
There weren't quite so many of these types, back where she came from. Suzume is already impressed with this city-- known worldwide as a center of the most formidable fighters known to public-- and not-so-public-- consciousness.
The woman seems intent on accepting Shihong's returned favor. She makes no motion to escape the psi-laced assault, struck harshly once-- twice-- and then knocked bodily into the air. She lands unsteadily, folding immediately and letting her weapon slam into the ground to brace her half-upright. She's at the end of her rope-- but in the end, she has done the job she was hired for, this night.
"Your courtesy," Suzume notes, with a slow and hitched inclination of her head, "is appreciated." And with that, she lunges again, her scabbard aiming to strike Shihong sharply and blast her with a surge of chi; should she connect, whatever opening results is exploited by a piercing blow of her blade.
COMBATSYS: Suzume can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Shihong 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: Shihong dodges Suzume's Kanhizakura.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Shihong 0/-------/-----==|
With one, final backflip the woman launches poor Suzume sky high, to ultimately fall with a painful thud on cold, unforgiving concrete. And yet, despite the grin that haunts her lips, the woman expresses no arrogance or spite for the other fighter; rather, hers is an expression of genuine delight, having truly found a diamond in the rough tonight.
Landing easily with a soft grunt, a hand presses firmly to her guttural wound, deep red seeping paste ghostly pale fingertips. The tiniest of hisses slips past clenched teeth, as black eyes slowly but surely drift back onto the other woman, who pulls herself back to her knees, supported by her blade. Across her red lips blossoms a broad grin. She's still going to give it her all?
"Tenacious," the woman compliments. "I really like that.
"As for my courtesy, well. I try." A hapless shrug follows a half-second later, arms falling loose at her side. For good reason, too; the wounds on her forearms are still quite fresh.
But when Suzume suddenly moves, lunging at Shihong with her brandished blade, the Chinese woman offers a light yelp, pivoting on her sharp heels. The blade sails just inches past her chest, a surge of white chi crackling down the sharp edge of the blade. Her back dips further, narrowly missing the ensuing explosion.
Only after the blade has retracted does the woman stand upright once more, black eyes following the sword to the woman brandishing it. Smiling once more, she offers a half-lidded look of amusement, a pale, albeit bloodied, hand reaching out to aid her, if need be.
"This line of work, it isn't for you," Shihong boldly states. She pauses.
"I think you need something better. Your talent is being utterly wasted with this filth."
COMBATSYS: Shihong has ended the fight here.
Log created on 21:42:49 02/29/2008 by Shihong, and last modified on 03:24:42 03/02/2008.