Description: You say, "That was totally sweet." | You say, "Everyone should fight Skullomania once before they die." | Dr. Tran says, "Fighting Skullomania would be the cause of my death" | Mai 'Drunken Bet' Shiranui says, "skullomania's such a sweetheart" --- Awesome enough to SLAY TRAN and convince Mai to remove what little clothing she wears? You know you want it. Come get it. (Winner: Amy)
A samurai fears not death.
Struggles to triumph over evil.
And lives for one purpose.
TO THROW DOWN IN THE NEO LEAGUE.
Amy Johnson is certainly no samurai, and even in feudal times it was unlikely that this particular part of Germany saw too many Japanese swordsmen grace its shores. Set upon the rather cold and dingy northern coast, the village chosen by League officials does have a few advantages; most obviously, that property damage will not run into astonishing figures. A charismatic entrenpeneur with a mediocre business plan could buy the entire place for less than the average soda jerk earns in a year. There's not much to value here, though the ancient seafront is quite picturesque.
This is precisely where the cameras have been aimed, set up on the lazy hillock that rolls down from the dozen or so dilapidated houses in the village to meet the water's edge and the creaking slats of the dock. Wide gaps between the boards allow ample view of the torpid ocean, the structural intergrity only further endangered by the mess of crates and barrels piled along one side. It gets worse as the wide, considerably lengthy pier creeps toward the horizon, great wobbling towers of worm-eaten wood threatening to give way at any unexpected pressure -- and probably take the entire harbour front with them! The situation is only made worse by the weather. A nebulous fog filters through the village and across the docks, obscuring vision signficiantly.
Yet, the threat of impending doom for their primary source of income not seem to bother the locals who own the various motley ships and boats moored about the dockside. All appear dismally poor, but most are happily drunk and cheering as they line the coast, with a few children or frantic mothers running in and out to alternately create chaos and maintain control. Nobody bothers to remember who they are chanting for, nor what any of this means. They are simply pleased to be chanting... this is the most exciting thing to happen here in a hundred years.
But what of the combatants?
Amy, in fact, arrived in the sleepy village two days ago. Making little effort to socialise with the denizens, she has spent her time exploring the outlying countryside - most of which is flat and uninspiring - and writing a journal on her recent experiences. It has been a dull holiday of sorts, before she moves on to the more exciting climate of Strolheim, far to the south. Kicking off said excitement with a bout against the exuberant Skullomania.
Currently the Templar waits above the stage of battle, barely visible in the gathering fog as she stands upon the deck of a ship whose prow faces the shore. Her back is to the gathered crowd, and her hands rest upon her hips as she scans the horizon past a billowing wisp of black hair, blown free from her beret by the faint breeze drifting in off the sea. Calmly focused on what is to come, she has been subconsciously counting down the minutes, awaiting the arrival of her foe without once turning to look for him. She allows her mere presence to speak for itself.
Any avid fight-fan would note that the image she presents seems at fierce odds with her opponent's reputation - she seems dark, intent, almost forbidding. Either she's taking this entirely too seriously or...? Could she be...?
Saburo is blissfully unaware of the aura of presence being emanated from above his exposed backside as he works the poor but excited peasantry over in an effort to sell them fresh lemmons at 50 pfennig a go. He is exhasperating himself trying to convince a woman that they are just like bananas but 'shorter' and 'more round' while she is angrily insisting that lemons are plentifully available at the market for much less.
He loses their interest and attention and whipping up into a spin, in place upon his heels he punches his fist down and he and the basket of lemons are both engulfed in a column of thick gray smoke.
It thins out abnormally fast with a huge fat-bellied pitcher of lemonade with ice and big discs of lemon, also adorned with a trademark smiley-face, replacing the lemons and Skullomania triumphantly raising his fists in the air while his scarf trails out sinuously in the light breeze slowly bringing the fog in.
"Could she be turning emo!?!?" He asks with unintentional clownishness, finishing a thought that came unbidden but with a certain narrative authority he could not resist. "Not when we have lemonade to enjoy on such a beantiful day at the beach!" He folds his hands to his hips, pulling his body up and foreward with a 'saturday morning'-type heroic surge --
And then he loses track of the moment just before the fireworks are supposed to go off and turns his head to the side without any exclamatory punctuation, looking at the boat Amy is riding on. "What did you pay for that? The SeaWard brand doesn't really pull as much weight as it used to. And I could get you a real firm grip on a submarine."
What is this power? He turns lemons... to lemonade?
Grim as the young woman's aspect may be, gloomy as the atmosphere would be if not for the cavorting villagers and the inimitable Skullomania, his party trick is a surprisingly apt analogy for her purpose today. She has been paying more attention to the international fighting circuit lately - she must, it seems, if she intends to further her training. She's heard of the offbeat 'superhero'. No recognition is prompted at his voice, but the tone of the events unfolding behind her is unmistakable.
When attention is drawn toward her, the Templar turns smoothly at the waist and lifts a hand from her hip, extending the arm toward the crowd.. toward Skullomania. Dramatic and serious, she still cuts a startling juxtaposition to his hijinx. But the posturing works well. Her eyes are dark, unreadable as they focus upon him through the cloying mists, but at his question they seem to glint. A smile slashes stoic lips upward at the corners, and Amy spins fully around, right arm making an exaggerated sway toward the extended left before she drops into a fighting stance.
"Buy lemons from that man," she calls out, clipped British accent ringing out clearly, "And your day will turn sour! Skullomania." She directs the last to him alone, stepping to the low rail that runs about the outer rim of the deck. The ship lists faintly, clacking against the edge of the dock. Amy adjusts her stance to compensate, throwing in a twist of the wrists for added flair. "Petty words will gain you nothing. Are you prepared?"
COMBATSYS: Amy has started a fight here.
COMBATSYS: Skullomania has joined the fight here.
Skullomania regains his flexing composure as Amy keeps everything strictly on the business at hand, rather than letting good ol' saburo sidetrack it with risky business. With overloud whipcrack sound effects, his hand jerks out and wraps firmly about the handle of the Kool-Aid Man pitcher and with even more intense wuxia effect snaps it back across his chest, steadying it with his other hand.
"It's supposed to work like that. These lemons are good! See!" He tilts his head and the enormous jug of lemonade back, slamming the whole thing, quickly at first but he rapidly slows down.
"Hmph," Amy casts her gaze downward as she is heroically ignored, smile widening momentarily before it fades completely. The mist about her deepens perceptibly, shrouding the woman in all but total obscurity as Skullo goes through his own preparatory (?!) motions. It seems he works in mysterious ways... but it is at least the temptation of an opening that he leaves. Any real villain would feel obliged to exploit such an opening. As the vapours enshroud her, the decision is made. This is what the Templar will do.
Moments before the oversized jug is emptied, an indistinct blur of movement streaks through the thick gray-white mass, a shadowy after-image left on the ship that may or may not be Amy as two rapidly expanding ripples run through the mist toward Skullomania. One drops low, scything through the air to come in for a shuddering landing upon the slats of the dock. The other begins to take form, shaping into the form of his opponent. She flies toward him, accelerating at the last moment to storm in with a wide, scything kick that could well shatter the jug and send him flying back into the crowd.
Something isn't quite right, however. This is no physical strike.
COMBATSYS: Skullomania fails to slow Night Errant from Amy with Thrown Object.
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Skullomania 0/-------/----===|=------\-------\0 Amy
Skullomania gasps, his face magnified ridiculously through the bottom of the enormous decanter as he valiantly struggles to finish off the last of his lemonade! His gut is slightly swollen, squeezing just barely out of the bottom of his supersuit's shirt.
Exclamation points, bright yellow and bursting with importance, apparate around his head as the Templar bears down on him. He freezes in the moment, ducking low under the kick and then leaping, like a lemur, to bring his feet up over the lowest trail of attack. He snaps up to chest-pass the glass globe straight into Amy's face but she powers through it, knocking him back in a spray of spit, blood and broken glass.
Normally the young woman would not attempt such a move; to risk losing a limb to flying shards is too dangerous for one who relies so heavily on the maintenance of a well-grounded posture. Those heavy boots she wears are not for show. But as Skullomania feels the attack plow through his defences, he should also come to realise that the apparition attacking him is not simply wreathed in mist; it /is/ the mist. A second after striking, it bursts into twisting tendrils, which within moments are integrated back into the massed fog covering the village.
"Nice try, but you'll need to do better than that!" The Templar's voice rings out from below, upon the boardwalk where her true self tactically hid - allowing her uncanny chi control to do the hard work while she calmly rose to her feet, retaining her focus. Despite the taunt, she has dropped any real attempt at playing the 'villain', slipping into the stoicism of battle as she always does. To this end she speaks no more, starting to cover the distance toward her opponent in steady, even paces.
She does not make it far before stopping, one booted foot planted on the grassy hillock and the other keeping purchase on the dock. One hand twitches before her, then is flicked backward with a motion of the wrist, fingers opening and closing in the eerie vapour. If Skullomania has not yet noticed that a tendril of mist has whiplashed into life scant feet away from him, he soon will. A whip of chi slaps toward his leg, seeking to gain purchase before, one with the woman's subsequent threading motion, it seeks to hurl Saburo bodily toward the waiting Templar.
COMBATSYS: Skullomania blocks Amy's Quagmire.
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Skullomania 0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0 Amy
Skullomania braces for impact, shaking a finger with a disciplinarians swagger at the 'villainess' as the tendril grabs him by the legs. He throws his arms above his head as he is swept up into the air, scarf creating a red plume behind him as he begins to spin rapidly like a drill!
The ectoplasmic apparition throws him back but he angles his spinning heels downwards and strikes the docks with loud hollow THWOKTHWOK sounds, pulverizing the pleasant old wood as he slides for Amy.
COMBATSYS: Amy dodges Skullomania's Skullo Slider.
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Skullomania 0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0 Amy
The destruction begins!
Amy's eyes widen as she watches Skullomania descend in a manner distinctly more controlled than she intended. This means the fight is truly joined. A thrill of adrenaline runs through her. Springing off her leading foot, she slides backward far enough to gain some space, swaying to face her opponent's dramatic charge. As their stage begins to splinter beneath him, the shockwave carries to the Templar; threatening to destabilise her. She uses this to her advantage in the split-second she has left to act, springing over the incoming hero.
"Huh!" A gasp pushing through her lips, Amy turns a fast somersault in the air, coming down on broken slats with a loose stumble. But she does not hesitate, leaving a dull splash behind her as the floor caves in and she surges after Skullomania, once more leaping upward to try and catch him while he's rising. Her goal? Clasp his head between her thighs and use her gathered momentum to spin around, launching him against another damaged portion of the dock while she lands a half dozen feet away in a tight crouch.
COMBATSYS: Amy successfully hits Skullomania with Strong Throw.
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Skullomania 1/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0 Amy
Skullomania collides like a ragdoll shot out of a pneumatic potato-cannon, with the dock. Boards and water explodes upwards around the Tokusatsu warrior as his head blasts a hole in the wooden platform and his limbs splay out perpendicularly to his body. It seems like this might be it for Skullomania, his red scarf floats on the surface even after the blakc and white skeletal pattern has sunk below visible range, especially in the dim lighting of the murky fog.
...Finally after a long while even the scar disappears. The crowd is somehwat silent, surely it's not like they haven't seen a stunt like this before, but it's so tough to tell when Skullomania has been bested or when he's up to something. There is a manhole cover on a concrete platform near where Amy is standing, and it suddenly is pushed aside by a triumphant pair of red and white hands clamboring up from beneath.
"Special Delivery. Hold the Anchovies!" He yells out smartly leaping up from the rungs of the iron ladder to propel himself into an upward rising uppercut and angling it low enough to gain enough horizontal distance to strike Amy in the jaw, fist burning with orange 'cosmic energies'.
COMBATSYS: Amy interrupts Stepping Upper from Skullomania with Mist Guardian.
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Skullomania 1/----===/=======|=====--\-------\0 Amy
The crowd goes wild - some, mostly the irate women who refused to buy those overpriced lemons, whooping and hollering at the Templar's seeming victory, and others shouting for him to emerge. They may be very much out of the fighting loop, but the people of this small German village have just caught the global fever. A chant begins among the children and reaches the more inebriated of the adults.
"SKULL-OH!" "SKULL-OH!" "SKULL-OH!"
The fallen superhero's opponent is with the positive members of the crowd, remaining in her crouch for the duration of his disappearance. There is an initial moment of uncertainty, but Amy forces herself not to focus upon this. The mystery cannot be a reality... though she has no idea where he will emerge, tracking the surroundings with that unreadable gaze, fingers of one hand occasionally rolling outward and inward to keep limber. When she hears a sound, the mists above the manhole cover buck and twist, seemingly attracting the Templar's attention.
"Welcome back," she speaks in half-whisper, for her own benefit, a wry smile tugging at her lips. But she has little time to waste, and as he is already moving into action; so is she. That uppercut /hammers/ in toward her, glowing with energy that causes the ethereal fog conjured by the woman to ripple outward, repulsed by its very presence. With a mental effort she wills it to obey her command, and a moment from impact the energies converge on one another with a sharp hiss and a bright flash.
Amy is slung backward in the ensuing explosion, but not before she twists from her crouching position, raising a flexible leg to bring the toe of her boot into simultaneous collision with Skullo's chin. The mists shield her from the worst of the damage on her end, and though thrust away in a cloud of pain, she is quick to right herself on the wooden boards.
Skullomania is knocked down by the force of the blast. But a series of pink yellow and orange clouds of smoke obscure the fighting area on the docks that is not allready submerging from property damage allready. It intermingles with the misk making dayglo stained hilites amidst the dark and foreboding atmosphere.
Skullo sits neatly on the boardwalk, his legs folded under a short, squat and wide square table, steaming hot tea poured out into two glasses on the table. He drinks from his and sighs a relaxed sigh of relief as he bobs his head towards Amy and gestures at the seating arrangements generously.
"You fight well, Storm Maiden, but your cold malevolence could stand to be tempered by some warmth." He again waves his hand at the steaming tea pot and empty cup, and then busies himself finishing his own cup, and pouring a second.
COMBATSYS: Skullomania gains composure.
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Skullomania 1/-----==/=======|===----\-------\0 Amy
Skullomania is as unorthodox a warrior as research suggested. On rolling into a recovery crouch, Amy is instantly ready for whatever countering assault he might throw her way - still not having seen enough of his techniques to know what that would be. He has utilised physical strikes, and the same augmented with energy. His quirky manner suggests a person able and willing to improvise - so she reasons there is likely to be so much more. What she does not expect, is a tea party.
If he wanted to break the stormy exterior, he succeeds. Amy laughs, a slightly breathless and uncommitted sound given it comes through the focus of battle, but a laugh all the same. Pushing herself up off swift application of a tense palm, she lowers her guard tentatively and approaches her opponent in measured strides, circling somewhat to avoid the damaged portions of their arena. "Why do I get the feeling that's a lesson life's been trying to teach me lately," she murmurs in response to the man once she nears, flashing a grin that is considerably more relaxed and genuine than previous attempts at brevity.
But /does she sit/? ...actually, she does. Rolling her shoulders in a loosening shrug, she folds herself in opposite Skullomania, pouring herself a drink while he occupies himself in finishing the first. When he goes for a second moments later, she blinks, and raises a quizzical brow. "Thanks for the drink," she begins, now once again more guarded, "But.. does this mean the fight's over? I was looking forward to seeing what else you had..."
COMBATSYS: Amy takes no action.
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Skullomania 1/-----==/=======|===----\-------\0 Amy
Skullomania lazily spreads his elbows out across the table, he pushes the tea pot back towards Amy and cupping his cup in both hands sips from the warm steaming liquid heartily. "I get thirsty when I get sweaty, and I get sweaty when I'm fighting someone with balls." He flinches, a visible grimace beneath his mask and he slides back in his chair throwing a palm out defensively.
"You know what I mean. Anyway. I was thirsty." He pours the rest of his cup down his throat. Gingerly plucking the folded cloth napkin from the table, next to his saucer, and dabs at the corners of his gaptoothed skull grin on the outside of the mask.
COMBATSYS: Skullomania gains composure.
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Skullomania 1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Amy
A break in the middle of a fight. This is so far from being Amy's style that, puzzled as she is, it can only be amusing. A sanctioned fight with Skullomania was supposed to present a unique experience, a different way of looking at the ebb and flow of battle - without becoming steeped in deep, meaningful behaviours that may not prove too relevant. Mission complete. In a sense.
The Templar's internal narrative relaxes her further, and she is able to sit and sip her cup dry while Skullomania speaks. Her composure is threatened when he suddenly comes out with /that/ comment however, a light snort breaking from the woman as her eyes widen. He defends himself before she can say anything, but another grin spreads as she lowers the delicate porcelain back onto its saucer. "I think I know what you mean," She replies then, expression becoming wild, a little feral, as she fixes her gaze on the bizarre mask of the man before her. There's a pause, a single beat...
And then she suddenly rises, untucking her legs and flipping backward off her seat, one hand thrusting forth to add momentum as she comes around for a vigorous landing, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "That said, if you're ready? We've barely starting sweating, here. Give me all you've got." This is the last concession to his level of exuberance she makes, at least for the moment, slipping back into a loose, low stance, hands clawed in the air and mist once more thickening around her. He may have spent his time recovering, but she intends to come out swinging. The body is coiled and ready; the mind has reached a conclusion that should change the scope of this fight. They're fighting on Skullomania's terms now.
COMBATSYS: Amy strains her body to its limit.
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Skullomania 1/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Amy
Skullomania yawns, fanning his mouth delicately with his hand, now standing, the table long since disappeared. A few bars of some ancient power ballade chime off in the distance, softly inspiring Skullo to 'push it to the limit'. "You know, I think that's a good idea. You probably deserve to see everything I've got, you could probably learn a few things from it. I mean you've allready shown me plenty and have probably only got a few extra-fer-special tricks left huh?"
He giggles hands on hips, which is their natural resting place, as his chest bounces up and down from the staccato intakes and exhalations. The crowd is beginning to boo now as Skullo just continues to stand their, wasting time, it's a good thing there's no rounds in Neo League just sideways 8s in all the countdown clocks.
His scarf, wrapped tightly about his kneck since his corkscrewing antics for the Skullo Slider suddenly unfurls of its own accord and unfurls to flap at its maximum length and he ignites in spectral orange chi flames with a bright flash of light that quiets their anxiety, for now. "HAHA!"
COMBATSYS: Skullomania gathers his will.
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Skullomania 1/--=====/=======|=====--\-------\0 Amy
Skullomania's lackadaisical approach is not going to win too many fans over, certainly, and it would drive Amy back toward confusion if she could not sense the building energies a moment before they explode around her opponent. She asked to see everything he has; and doubtless, she will. But the balls are in her court. Her proximity to the ground was intended to form a more solid defence- a tactic which is worthless in light of the seconds she has now been given to act. To hesitate further is weak, and will achieve nothing. The Templar sucks in a deep breath...
And suddenly blazes forward, one arm raised to the fore and the other trailing behind her. A formless cry builds on her lips, raising in pitch and volume for the time it takes to cover the distance between her and Skullo. The mists behind her are wrenched into motion as if fixed upon the trailing arm, and the fingertips that clasp firmly into the palm. White-gray tendrils spiral inward, a controlled chaos that seeks to teach a pivotal point, forming a devastating whirlwind at the centre of the woman's hand.
Her rapid, direct approach will end with both legs finding firm foundation on the wooden slats underfoot, the simultaneous reversal of her arm's momentum providing all the potential power she requires to mount a devastating assault upon Saburo's waiting guard. Her palm seeks his spiritual centre, inserted between stomach and ribs with a vicious twist that carries all that gathered energy deep into his being.
If he fails to mount a defence, or a counter-offensive, the technique will rend at his own natural energies, before he is blown backward by a violent expulsion of gathered force. "Haaaaaaah!"
COMBATSYS: Skullomania blocks Amy's Trembling Palm.
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Skullomania 1/-======/=======|=====--\-------\0 Amy
Skullomania's feet squeak as the soap-soled soap shoes allow him to be pushed back from the blow. He laughs, a high pitched frenetic squawk between the Templar's ferocious strikes as he is pushed out along the docks almost into the hungry mist and the turgid water.
She seems to be getting the upper hand nailing him with multiple solid strikes as he defends his retreat, but then at the last moment, with enough force to knock him clear out into the drink, he snaps both hands down across his chest and stops her finisher cold. "What's that behind me? Is it a whale I can't see?" He asks referring in his own mind, to the mist manifestations all around them, but he croches low and slides around Amy's back trying to catch her attention out at the nothing for a moment as he gleams and sparlkes with energy suddenly, and smashes her with both hands towards the floor, seeking to punch her straight through the boardwalk.
COMBATSYS: Amy endures Skullomania's Skullo Crusher EX!!
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Skullomania 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=======\-------\1 Amy
The recovery from her strike is painful, the Templar forced to grip her extended hand at the wrist as it shudders almost uncontrollably. Teeth gritting, she barely has the presence of mind to turn when Skullomania moves - but she does have at least that, dark eyes flashing with shock at the speed of what comes forth to greet her. Whilst she may have held the upper hand thus far; he is no slacker, that much is apparent, and with a hiss of effort she swings herself backward, bending like a reed before his hands. Not evading them, though. His blow strikes true.
The pressure is immense, causing the boardwalk to howl in protest. Flimsy wood erupts in a splintered mess, chips and slivers of the stuff filling the mist-wreathed air as Amy is hammered into the blue-black depths below... disappearing with a murky splash, a sudden hardening of her gaze the last glimpse Skullomania will see before she is immersed in the ocean. Surely it cannot be deep, surely she can pull the same trick he did. But if she could, it would happen more or less instantly. There is no surprise in repetition.
Moments drag, with nothing beside a few meagre bubbles surfacing. Then, Saburo may feel a sharp prickle in the air. The mists sway, left then right, as if charmed. It is the only warning he will receive, as a half-second later multiple ghostly figures surge to life around the harbourside, each seemingly formed by a mass of tendrils. As one they move, indisputably forming into the very image of Amy and screaming toward the bodysuited man, each throwing up a vaporous fist for a direct strike.
COMBATSYS: Skullomania interrupts Preserving the Myth from Amy with Skullo Dream.
?!? Weird Hit! ?!?
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Skullomania 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Amy
Whoomph.
As suddenly as they emerged, all but a single spirit-knight fades from view, dispersing seamlessly back into the air. That which remains continues the collision course alone, gaining speed at a fearsome rate. The extended 'limb' hardens upon impact, aiming to plow through Skullomania so quickly that it tosses him into the air, spinning upon whatever his body judges to be the central axis.
Whether or not his limbs retain any semblance of control, the attack is finished in dramatic fashion. The oceans erupt through the boardwalk, a powerful fountain of salt water spewing Amy back out into the battle. Her final mistform will fade from being in the same instant that her leg arcs around, looking to finish the airborne hero and send him back to terra firma.
Skullomania fights with the mist, it is an epic display. He is thrown about, violently pounded upon, but he throws blows back, dissipating the mist often, with his fast and flashy strikes. Skullo has just finished with the final mist-double, his back turned to Amy as she spins to knock him down with a smart heel. He is suddenly facing the other way!
"Nice tricks. You remind me of this cool magician I saw at Coney Island this one time!" And then his hands clasp around her ankle neatly, and the sky turns black!
The sun turns a heavy oppressive orange as twinkling pink and purple shooting stars explode across the sky, there is the descending screech of enormous heavenly bodies as a few meteors crach into the water and the docks, blasting big dangerous holes in the allready ravaged venue.
"Huk!" He shouts as he spins, flailing the body of Amy out from his body by her legs, then he doesn't let go, but falls down heavily in his ass, pulling her with him, he legs shoot up to knock her in the hips, pushing her out towards the water... again!
Skullomania performs an impossible backflip from his prone position just in time to thrust with his pelvis, causing a brightly coloured laser to spray from his navel, blasting the Knight Templar out into the drink again, before the super hero sags amidst the copious folds of his dangling scarf. "I really need some more tea." He laments.
Amy knows her attack was fast and tricksy. She knows it would have taken a considerable to evade or outmatch, and it speaks volumes of Skullomania that he is able to mount such an amazing defence. What follows his initial display is... almost unbelievable. The tea party was unorthodox, but this is both bizarre and somehow - there's really no getting around this - utterly majestic. The Templar has never faced anything so absolutely flashy, so utterly rooted in style and yet /still effective/.
Inescapably hauled through the air, her beret flying off and long black hair unravelling around her, she is shocked but already attempting to twist herself for a landing more comfortable than the one her opponent must have in mind. True to expectation, she flies toward the edge of the dock, careering through a stack of lightweight crates before she is completely, rampantly unexpectedly struck by a laser beam. From Skullomania's navel.
She misses that minor detail, thank the Lord, but is still deposited neatly in the ocean with another splash. This one is louder, her landing less controlled. But she recovers quickly through pure adrenaline, hauling herself to the surface with a few sharp coughs, seawater spurting from her mouth and nose but arms already propelling her into a speedy front crawl. She's an accomplished swimmer, and back to the harbour's edge in seconds.
"No.. more.. tea!" She breathlessly cries as she hauls herself up, actually concealed behind an assorted stack of barrels, large, small and rotting. Leaping upward with an expulsion of breath, she slings herself over the stack, which begins to wobble and sway behind as she comes flying toward Skullomania with arms slicing across in a steep 'x' before her. Less cataclysmically damaging than an attempt to drive him back while she lands, throwing out a question she just has to ask, "You're amazing... where did you learn that?"
COMBATSYS: Amy successfully hits Skullomania with Quick Punch.
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Skullomania 0/-------/--=====|==-----\-------\0 Amy
Skullomania laughs as Amy makes her declaration against further tea time, and he swallows his tiredness, his weakness, and wraps it up in a tidy box in his mind, he then places a tasteful card with floral designs on it and mails it to his mother, she was so cruel and condescending to him in his youth. "Where did I learn what?"
He backs up suddenly, getting mobile, getting ready for the evasive maneuvers. "When my destiny caused my coincidental bonding with this suit, my natural abilities just manifested themselves instantly. It is a spiritual naturality known very closely by the tao, you'd be further to ask the tiger how it hunts with such predatory beauty! The simplistic growl would be easier to translayy-AAAaack!"
He quickly snaps his forearms up, trying to push the blow away, to cause it to glance him, but Amy's concentration is too much, she penetrates his gard and catches him on the cheek, causing immediate swelling for the bruised and battered super-hero. He doesn't have time to react, flipping off like a weightless inflatable punching clown, flipping end over head as he spirals up into the air, he yells out a high pitched and unintelligible yell of passion as he reverses his facing, presses his hands out above his head and causes his momentum to shift completely--
Hurtling and spinning right for Amy again!
COMBATSYS: Amy blocks Skullomania's Skullo Dive.
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Skullomania 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Amy
"Come again?" The Templar's eyebrows shoot up as she digests the response, at least not allowing herself to be sent spiralling off-guard by the flamboyant reply. Those dark eyes watch Skullomania with some confusion, but more intensity, continuing to read and track his movements while he staggers back and then gives that violent yell. Dropping low to the ground, Amy's jaw clenches as she erects a guard, the attack tardy enough that she is able to do so with full strength at her disposal.
The powerful strike meets tense forearms, balanced on arms which yield with the pressure, redirecting it and allowing space for the woman to launch her own, physical response. A slight misjudgement there might have toppled her, she knows, and she is taking no further chances now. Stepping in no closer to the man, she twitches her left hand, maintaining a guard with the right as she draws it around in a tight circle.
A nearby tendril of mist lashes into solidity, grasping for Skullomania's arm in an attempt to bring him toppling to the slats one last time...
COMBATSYS: Amy successfully hits Skullomania with Quagmire.
[ \ < > ///////// ]
Skullomania 0/-------/=======|=====--\-------\0 Amy
Skullomania looks confused, a few chi-question marks populate the orbit of his head as he dances around the conversational interjection. "Again? I didn't get off the first time?!" And then as he's about to make a full on taunting gesture when the tendril of mist suckerpunches him faster and more suddenly than he expected.
As the announcers voice echoes at the impressive hit, everything in Skullomania's world slows down, like bullet time, only this has a lot more to do with the concussion he has just recieved. His shoulders bury themselves in the sturdily built but dilapidated and old docks, boards and old nails spraying about explosively.
His legs bend over to touch the firm support, as if he's going to pull himself out, but then he begins to spin in place, like a real drill, head amidst the boards, his legs sweep past Amy low and then high, before he runs out of energy to keep fighting.
COMBATSYS: Skullomania can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Amy 0/-------/--=====|
COMBATSYS: Amy blocks Skullomania's Dangerous Heel EX.
[ \\\\\\\ <
Amy 0/-------/-======|
When Skullomania makes his impact, Amy exhales, her shoulders lowering and arms relaxing faintly as she allows looseness to creep back into her muscles. The vapours dribble away, releasing their grasp almost instantly and allowing the admittedly convincing 'superhero' to make his final motions. His speed suggests he is ailing, but the Templar cannot be sure he is down for the count. He has proved too unpredictable. Shifting back across the boards, she turns her left side to accept the incoming blow against tight muscles... and then rolls, evading the worst of the damage.
Unfortunately the motion sends her careering into the crates still teetering from her earlier return to the field of battle. With the first impact of her lithe form they tumble, raining down containers of wood and cheap steel. Testament to the energy she has left that Amy manages to roll again, coming to her feet with a swift hop to get clear of the cascade. It continues unabated, slamming what is left of the harbourside into pulpy oblivion. Only a sliver is left, occupied by the two combatants.
"...intense," the woman breathes after a moment's consideration of the scene, stepping over slowly to offer Skullomania a hand. Behind them the crowd goes wild, the Neo League's generic announcer chirping out the name of the victor. It's only her second public performance; and a slight thrill does run through the Templar, though she is more interested in the man she has dropped after what has been a wonderfully arduous tussle. Assuming he /is/ conscious, she offers him a warm, tired smile, "You fought well... better than well. I still don't know what you did near the end, there, but it was an honour to be on the receiving end of it."
COMBATSYS: Amy has ended the fight here.
Skullomania pulls himself out of the dock with a loud pop, nimbly launching back and onto his feet. He crouches then with a serpentine ease slides back to a fully standing position and folds his hands neatly across his chest, his scarf unfurling as it does hangs impossibly but flutters appropriately for the gentle breeze. The mist has begun to clear somewhat and the sun is shining, a bit, behind the clouds.
So as it is with the picturesque and beautiful view of the beach somewhat restored, he bows respectfully to the victor and nods his head to her as he stands once more. He capers a bit, bending his limbs at jaunty and uncomfortable looking angles and mugs for the cameras and affects his loudest but also best 'mysterious' voice "To Dream Is To Live!" His eyes twinkle, his skeletal grin leers with static glee and he claps his hands twice.
He backs up turns both hands into guns, which he fires at the Templar and then as they go down he springs back into her face. He just winks, a big obvious gesture and then whirs one hundred and eighty degrees to face the water. He slaps his ass once, making a distinct report and using only his forefingers to strike the blow.
He then dives into the water, leaping up, hanging lazily in the air during the short arc and then does two and a half front flips. He flails frantically realizing he isn't going to make it before he hits the water and manages to spy Amy's attention once more, waving a friendly good by before he simply disappears as he splashes into the water, not even the red scarf leaving a trace.
In times to come, at the end of all days, the wisest of all remaining scholars will ask:
'How much more surreal could the man, the legend, named Skullomania be?'
And the answer? The answer is none. None more surreal.
The youngest of the Knights Templar is left standing astonished by his departing actions, enraptured in a way normally glimpsed only in the pathologically confused and those dizzy with true love. But she fits into neither; she can make sense of the world, she can function and translate events around her into fact, fiction and deeper meaning. Her opponent today has impressed her with his skill - and with his tenacity, surging back seemingly from the brink of defeat in part due to the mere consumption of two cups of warm tea! - but now he has left her truly speechless.
She lifts a hand, numbly, in response to his wave, and watches him vanish from view. It feels like an enchantment has lifted, his passing from the scene inherently transforming it. The crowd surges back into focus, and Amy smiles, shaking her head as she turns, pushing back waves of soaking black hair and striding forward to meet her first admiring audience.
Wherever you travel, Skullomania, travel well! Travel mighty!
Log created on 09:26:18 09/18/2008 by Amy, and last modified on 12:55:49 09/19/2008.