Description: What do you get when you mix a ninja, Russian and a fiery redhead with a taffy and confectionary factory? Answer: not the wet t-shirt contest you were maybe hoping for. (Winner: Marisol)
o/` I know a guy who's tough but sweet
He's so fine, he can't be beat
He's got everything that I desire
Sets the summer sun on fire
I want candy
I want candy! o/`
Surely that is a perfectly reasonable demand.
And the greatest candy factory on Earth is here to meet that need! Well when it comes to salt-water taffy, anyway. But clearly that is the greatest candy of all, and all other confections can bloody well go hang.
The smell of sweetness is in the air, lacing clouds of steam as they billow through the cavernous building. Clouds of buttery smoke work their way among the rafters, suffusing the whole structure in a haze of delicious clouds. The glow of bright flourescent lights cuts through the clouds, glinting off the burnished copper surfaces of the great bubbling vats, reflecting off the maze of pipes winding across the floor, carrying vast quantities of hot syrup and other ingredients to their final destinations.
Above it all is the mighty rattle and clank of the pulling machine - huge mechanical arms drawing great chunks of taffy mixture up and apart, stretching and refolding them to whip air into the candy. To make it fluffy. To make it fine.
Willy Wonka, eat your top-hat wearin' heart out.
An excited murmur buzzes in the factory, a crowd of excited faces watching from the catwalks above, from the glass-panelled observation galleries, all eyes turned to the floor. Cameras are rolling, with the distinct flicker-snap of flashes exploding hither and yon. For there is more than just candy at stake today, yes - for today, Rafferty's Rappy Taffy, Fudge and Fun Factory, Southtown, is home to the GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH.
But where are the performers?
Rafferty's Rappy Taffy, Fudge and Fun Factory.
While Marisol has HEARD of it and had a few pieces of their famous taffy, she'd never thought she would wind up at the center of its operations. And if she ever FOUND herself at the heart of confectionary heaven, she didn't think it would be to beat other people up. But, hey. Them's the breaks when it comes to SNF! Not that she can complain: she's gotten free candy out of it.
Amid a sea of copper cauldrons and pulled taffy high above, the half-Spaniard girl is seemingly the first to arrive. Overhead, the workers watch on as the redhead emerges, Marisol's gray eyes curiously surveying her surroundings. Who would have thought, a fight - here?! The clamor is great, but drowned out by the chugging of steaming machines and candy being made. The air smells positively delightful, and she could very much get used to it.
Exhaling lightly, Marisol makes her way to the least cluttered portion of the factory floor. Clad in a comfortable pair of jeans and a simple cotton pink t-shirt with a lightweight white hoodie slung over it, the redhead draws her taped hands together, knuckles pressing into her palm and meeting with a loud pop-crack. The half-Spaniard girl exhales contentedly, patiently waiting with a light bounce in her step.
Surely this weekend there won't be any pervert midgets to ruin her fun..?
Second to arrive is a blonde familiar to Marisol, the sole female member of the Guardian Kings weaving her way through the machines and endless candy towards the cleared fight area. She's a bit slow in her meanderings, her eyes on the candy being made; she knows already, after all, that she's not the last person to arrive, and there's not yet a need to hurry.
She's admittedly not much of a taffy person. But the thick food smell hanging deliciously in the air is enough to tantalize just about anyone, regardless of their feelings towards salt-water taffy.
Finally edging her way to the cleared space past a gaggle of cameras, Stasya cuts a grin at Marisol as she pulls her gloves on just a little tighter over her hands. "Hey, Marisol," she greets, almost as if their respective teams weren't supposedly locked in a deadly rivalry. "It has been a while."
Even as she speaks, she's canvassing the area with her empathic sense, adjusting it to the locale and ascertaining beforehand who she should filter and who she should not. But where's the third combatant?
Where indeed. The clatter of machinery makes it hard to hear anything in this great factory, and the gusts of steam rising from the bubbling vats mean that visibility is just awful. All in all, it's not just a recipe for tasty candy, it's a recipe for disaster as well. A difficult battlefield, this, especially given the fact that the third fighter in this match is supposed to be some kind of ninja.
Where /is/ she, anyway?
A small figure in a utilitarian worker's coverall comes into view, melting from the shadows at the base of a great taffy vat. She looks across the length of the factory, glancing at the two fighters standing in the open space near the centre of the great chamber...before glancing down to the clipboard in her hands. She consults it carefully, then makes some minute adjustments to the vat controls, manipulating the levers bolted to the huge container with deft flicks of the fingers. After a moment, she nods in satisfaction, lifting one syrup-stained glove high in the air, flashing a thumbs-up to the main control room - the universal sign that all is good and well in sugarcandy mountain.
A confused murmur comes through the PA system, a bewildered Saturday Night Fight official speaking rapidly into the microphone. The factory floor is clear, but surely they can't begin the match yet. Why, the third participant hasn't even shown up yet!
Down by the vat, the workwear-clad figure scowls behind her hygienic face mask, the material flexing along with the curve of her lips. She makes an impatient sort of gesture, waving insistantly at the folks upstairs.
Some kind of argument seems to be taking place.
Finally, her eyes rolling skyward, the worker reaches up, and pulls her mask and hair-net off with a loud snap of elastic.
"Maa, maa," Riko Koganei drawls, lazily, winking at Marisol and Stasya, "start the fight already."
COMBATSYS: Riko has started a fight here.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Marisol has joined the fight here.
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Riko 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Marisol
COMBATSYS: Stasya has joined the fight here.
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Stasya 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Marisol
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 0/-------/-------|
Gray eyes remain fixed on the tall, mountainous vats towering around the redhead, Marisol's attentions thoroughly distracted by the intricate machines loudly whirring and churning around her. It's the first time she's ever really been anywhere like this, and she quietly enjoys every moment she can. Because soon, if she's lucky, the fight will start. Assuming everyone SHOWS up.
Fortunately, a familiar voice calls out to Marisol. Blinking, the half-Spaniard turns her attentions away from a humongous copper vat to the Russian girl. Again, the redhead blinks, mildly confused by her presence before she offers a broad smirk. "Hey, you're here?" the girl calls back, obviously confused by the Guardian King girl's participation in the fight. Someone didn't pay attention to her fight information.
Lifting a hand, she offers Stasya a light wave, the smirk easing into a light grin. "It has been a while, yeah. Good to see you're still hanging around these sorts of things. Haven't seen much of your Guardian Tard buddies though." She doesn't sound too angry about it, just scathingly curious. "I--"
The confused murmur cuts the redhead short, Marisol's eyes drifting upwards. What the..?
Her thoughts scatter with the arrival of a third, someone dressed like someone who ISN'T coming to a Saturday Night Fight to participate. Gray eyes slowly draw into a squint, full lips pursing thoughtfully as she eyes the approaching 'worker.' What on earth..? The figure removes its wig and mask.
"I don't think that's sanitary," the half-Spaniard idly comments.
And then--lo! The ninja-girl has arrived. Blinking again, the redhead looks mildly perplexed with Riko's arrival, trying to place the ninja-girl's face...and that's when it hits her. Chemistry class, and an invite to Jinchuu. It's /her/.
"Oh damn," the girl remarks, giving her knuckles another loud CRACK. "And you know, I was wondering...would I ever get a chance to fight you again?" Clearly the SNF gods have answered her question. Grinning a broad, toothy smirk, Marisol's eyes fix on Riko with considerable interest. Last time the girl got the better of Marisol. This time? She's determined NOT to let her be so damn sneaky.
Sneakers squeal against the smooth concrete floor as the redhead pushes off the toes of her shoes, making a swift path right for Riko where, should she get close enough, she will attempt to drive a swift punch right for the center of the ninja's chest. "HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"
Stasya grins in reply, finishing the adjustments on her gloves and letting her hands drift back down to rest on her hips. Oh, I do this when I can. As for the rest-- And she's cut off right about there when a mild stir goes up. She follows Marisol's gaze confusedly; but her eyes are quick to track back down, as her perception informs her of the approach of someone else. Her eyes narrow on Riko, but the girl doesn't quite recognize her.
Marisol seems to, however; from how she talks, the two probably have some past. Shrugging as the other girl takes off towards Riko, clearly wanting to test the ninja-- and taking the girl's lazy injunction to start the fight to heart-- Stasya herself takes a moment to scan between the two other fighters. She doesn't act until she's settled their respective empathic signatures firmly in her mind.
Once she does take off, it's towards Marisol. Even as the girl focuses on her upper body to deliver the strike, Stasya rushes in and feints low, seemingly hoping Marisol's attention is too diverted to avoid a strike from that angle. She snaps a crescent kick off that starts low, but then arcs sharply up to try to catch Marisol in the torso.
COMBATSYS: Marisol successfully hits Riko with Light Punch.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 0/-------/-----==|
And in the sudden tangle of limbs, flashing fists and feet, Riko goes down - air forcefully shoved from her lungs as the punch crashes into her ribcage. She tumbles, falling to the concrete floor - her clipboard clatters one way, bouncing against the floor, while Riko goes in a different direction. She crumples to an awkward halt against one of the big taffy vats, the sound of the impact ringing loud as she hits burnished copper.
Riko shakes her head, once, spots of light dancing in her vision. "Oooooww," she complains, loudly, "you hit -hard-..."
Then the ninja girl grins from ear to ear, her eyes gleaming. "Wise to remember that."
As Riko watches Stasya clash with Marisol, now, she unbuttons a pocket of her crumpled and candy-stained coverall, slipping a hand in. It emerges with her fingers wrapped around a black pistol-style grip, a blocky plastic shape of triggers and toggles, surmounted by a steel telescoping antennae. This she extends from the radio unit, drawing it to full extension with a deft snap.
COMBATSYS: Riko focuses on her next action.
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: Marisol interrupts Medium Kick from Stasya with Snap Wind.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/----===|===----\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 0/-------/-----==|
Whether or not Stasya recognizes Riko, Marisol certainly does. It's hard to forget the face of a nimble ninja that ambushed you in the middle of chemistry class, after all. And it's that event in particular which spurns the half-Spaniard girl to take the initiative here and drive a punch right at Riko. And drive she does! Stasya is left to her own devices--for now.
Striking poor Riko (and her clipboard) down, the redhead just offers a wry grin as she slowly draws her extended fist back to her side. "I hear that a lot," the redhead replies, her smile growing a fraction wider as the ninja recovers. "Sorry; unfortunately, I don't plan on holding back." A glance is spared over a single shoulder, toward Stasya, extending the 'warning' to the Guardian King--
But the girl is coming right. For. Her.
Pivoting sharply, her sneakers over a sharp but brief squeal as she turns to face the blonde directly. With a smile still haunting her lips, the psion's kick meets its mark--but travels no further than her thigh. Why? A hand has dropped down, cutting that flaming leg off before it can ascend higher. Damn it burns. But--
A taped fist suddenly juts forwards, to stun the Russian with a swift blow to the chest. The real blow comes when the half-Spaniard girl drops a bit and drives her body upwards with harsh momentum, an uppercut to send the blonde stagger! "HAAAGH!"
Repulsed suddenly in the middle of her attack, Stasya is sent stumbling back by that harsh uppercut, nearly taken right off her feet by the force. Drawing eventually to an unsteady halt, the girl rubs ruefully at the line of her jaw, where the blow struck hardest. "Marisol," she grins-- she heard the exchange-- "I don't think I have -ever- seen you hold back."
Finally stabilizing, Stasya turns her gaze towards Riko. She doesn't know what the girl can do, and so opts to find out in a conservative manner. Especially since the girl is hanging back. Her lean frame tensing, the girl flips back with her characteristic acrobatic grace, her leading leg slinging a wide arc of sharp arrow-like psi towards Riko. She lands, and instantly twists in a different direction to kick off another arc of psi: this one perpendicular to the first.
COMBATSYS: Riko interrupts Chandrahas from Stasya with Improvised Tactics EX.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 0/-------/---====|
"Ahhh," Riko offers, "I think Miss O'Connell is very restrained in her use of restraint, ne?"
From her corner, the little ninja gives an impish grin of her own, a moment of shared bemusement with the girl called Stasya. A brief connection. For true empathy for the fighter, after all, is in the moment of combat.
It matters not - or perhaps, matters more - that Stasya's got a lethal attack racing right for Riko's lean frame.
Riko watches the flare of energy with clear unblinking eyes. She makes her quip all the same, the words tripping casually from her tongue as the brilliant psionic arcs stretch towards her. And, calmly, Riko makes her own move.
She holds the remote control tightly, her right hand wrapped around the radio's gun grip - save for her index finger, which brushes lightly over a trigger button. Riko feels the contours of the cool plastic, reading the faint ridges carved into the trigger surface even through the fabric of her gloves...tactile code, her own personal interpretation of Braille.
Wouldn't do to press the wrong button, after all.
But it /is/ the right button, and she triggers it a moment before the energy projectiles hit.
A massive HISS of steam explodes from right behind Riko, as a syrup conduit snaking into a candy vat chooses that very moment to /uncouple/ itself, bolts bursting outward with explosive force. A huge geyser of sticky sweet fluid slams into Riko from behind, splattering against her coverall - and sending her flying into the air. /Into/ the path of Stasya's attack...but even as the energy shatters against Riko's body, the ninja girl's expression is a psychotic mix of glee and agony. Borne by that high-pressure jet, she /keeps going/ - straight into Stasya.
A smile graces Marisol's sun kissed features, as Stasya makes her observation. If there's one thing Marisol enjoys, it's fighting to her fullest extent. It's no fun if you restrain yourself and take pity on someone who is built to TAKE hits, after all. "Yeah," the half-Spaniard eventually replies. "You're probably right, Stasya." Her hand lifts, fingers curling into a tight fist as her smile broadens.
But when Riko speaks, the redhead turns her attentions onto her, giving the ninja-girl an odd look. "Wh...what's that supposed to mean??" Marisol inquires, sounding obviously confused. A split-second the boxer shakes her head, her long red mane tossing about. Before she can speak up, Stasya is cutting a swift, energy-laden path right for Riko. But...
An arm shoots up as steam suddenly explodes from the nearby vat, shielding the girl's face from harm--even if none really presents itself. Moments later the ninja is FLYING at Stasya, colliding with the Russian girl's body in a painful way. Even Marisol has to flinch slightly as she lowers her hands. But this presents an opportunity...
Clenching her fists, the redhead barrels in after the collision, attempting to sneak up on Riko to deliver a nasty punch to the ninja's stomach. Should she succeed, the redhead will snap a hand out and grab the girl by her head, driving her knee downwards to collide her face INTO the knee before she shoves back and swings a leg upwards, to deliver--oddly enough--a vertical kick right into the kunoichi's jaw..!
Stasya, in all her memory, can't recall ever being knocked out of this attack before. It's thus a novel experience for her when, with a cheerful and wry quip, the ninja abruptly triggers -something- off... and then comes flying -straight- into the surprised Russian, weathering much of that psi unheedingly along the way. And as Riko slams into her, Stasya gets a sudden vivid image of the mixed euphoria and pain swimming through the other girl. It startles her, and when she finally hits the ground and manages to look back at Riko again, it's with a look of naked surprise.
Pulling herself upright again, stumbling a little, Stasya rubs a hand across her face... and grins. "C-crazy," she observes. "...I like that," she concludes.
But her head is still swimming from those successive hits, and she's none too eager to just jump right back in. Shaking her head to try to clear it, she squints at Marisol and Riko. Let the two keep one another busy for a bit... she'll just watch for a second. She can't just jump in unprepared like that again, not against this unknown factor of a ninja.
COMBATSYS: Stasya focuses on her next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Marisol successfully hits Riko with Chain Reaction.
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Stasya 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 0/-------/-======|
"Crazy," Riko echoes Stasya, with a lopsided smile, "maybe. Because the sane thing would be---"
She doesn't finish. Riko gets cut off quite abruptly. It's hard to talk when Marisol's got a hand on your head, all of a sudden, fingers finding purchase in candy-slicked hair. All that stickiness probably gives extra grip, not less. Riko makes a strangled sort of sound as Marisol introduces her knee to Riko's face, following it up with an earth-shattering kick that rocks the ninja's chin all the way back. Her spine and vertabrae screech in protest as she flies, crashing halfway up one of the candy vats, leaving a Riko-shaped dent.
She starts to fall...before catching herself, adhering to the side of the big metal cylinder, her feet pressed to the surface. Without batting an eyelid, Riko continues what she was saying, as if she hadn't been interrupted.
"---to attack /her/," Riko murmurs to Stasya, conspiratorily, "since Ms. O'Connell's looking a lot healthier than either of us, ne?"
Riko doesn't wait to see if Stasya's going along with her plan, though. She takes action first. That remote control box is still clutched firmly in her right hand. She swings it round, now, her other hand ghosting over the toggles and switches. The tip of the radio antennae waggles back and forth, glowing faintly blue.
That's when the /crackle/ starts, a hint of static and ozone in the air. One of the big motorized pumps bolted to the floor of the taffy factory gives a great shudder, Valves snapping as it erupts in an aura of shrieking blue electricity - power travelling up from the machine, through the vat Riko's perched on, /into/ the girl, flowing over her body, through her hands, into the radio control, down the antennae...
...and right at Marisol, as Riko makes a tremendous leap, crossing the distance and stabbing with her blazing weapon.
COMBATSYS: Riko successfully hits Marisol with Light Fantastic.
-+- CALCULATED HIT -+-
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 1/-------/=======|
Observing as Riko slams into the vat and leaves a ninja-shaped dent in it, the redhead turns her attentions back to the currently passive Stasya. Grinning lightly, she opens her mouth as if to speak--but that conspiratorial whisper cuts her short. What? Her head jerks to the side, eyeing Riko with a hooded gaze before she lightly smirks. Healthier..?
"Sorry!" the girl calls out, giving her shoulders a light shrug. "I can't help it if I'm better stacked."
What?
The thought is cast from the redhead's mind soon enough, however, when a valve suddenly breaks free and shoots up to the kunoichi before she leaps down and stabs Marisol with her sparkling antennae, drawing from the half-Spaniard a loud gasp. Startled and electrified, the redhead staggers back a few feet, hand clutching her chest before she lightly sneers. Her back hits a copper vat with a dim 'clang.'
"That kind of hurt," she muses aloud with her brow furrowed.
For now, it would appear the fiery half-Spaniard girl chooses to stay back, like her fellow fighters did previously. Eyeing both girls, she waits as if it were some old West Mexican standoff, long fingers absently curling and unfurling at her hips...
COMBATSYS: Marisol focuses on her next action.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 1/-------/=======|
Stasya listens politely to the first half of Riko's statement. She waits, equally politely, for Marisol to finish destroying the scenery with Riko. And then, she nods, still polite, to Riko's final conclusion. She touches her lips in a thoughtful sort of way, seemingly finding something quite amusing about this entire fight. Perhaps it's the odd cast of characters.
She thinks about the proposal, quite calm, even as Riko essentially electroprods Marisol in the background. And when she finally turns around, it's to the tableau of a standoff. A brow lifts, briefly, and Stasya sighs out a breath as she cracks her knuckles.
"I suppose she still does look quite 'healthy,'" Stasya observes with a smirk, the quotes literally audible in her voice, before she suddenly lunges towards Marisol. Her hands snap forwards once she's close in range, the girl trying to seize Marisol and twist her around to the ground in a deft throw; should she get Marisol to the floor, her hands are shifting immediately, in an attempt to send a jolt of sharp psi straight into the felled girl's chest.
Riko arches a slender eyebrow, as she reflects on what:
a) Marisol just said, and
b) which part of Marisol's anatomy Stasya's trying to attack
"Even so," Riko muses, out loud, waggling the tip of her remote-control antennae, "I'm not sure that's the best way to do reduction surgery..."
The kunoichi wrinkles her nose, sniffing the air - filled with the sweet and buttery scent of salt-water taffy and other magical candy substances.
"...and this is /hardly/ hygenic, ne?"
As she speaks, Riko's doing work of her own, though. Even as the other two girls clash, she's not just standing idly by. Well, she /is/ standing by, quite literally, her feet flat on the concrete floor, her body motionless amidst the towering taffy machinery and big bubbling vats. But she's also manipulating the remote control still held in her hands, fingers playing over the array of little levers. She thumbs one of the joysticks up and to the left, sliding it back and forth, back and forth, until all of a sudden she stops. And squeezes a trigger.
With a sharp explosive HISS, one of the big snaking pipes gives way, a seam breaking, spurting a thin stream of exceedingly hot and steaming molten taffy right out at Marisol...from her blind side, from her back. Just as Stasya comes in. It's perhaps not the most discriminating attack, for the sheer splatter of hot liquid candy is bound to catch Stasya in the spray as well.
But hey, while this might be a temporary alliance, the operative word is temporary. All's fair in love and candy.
COMBATSYS: Stasya successfully hits Marisol with Laevateinn.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Stasya 1/------=/=======|=======\===----\1 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 1/-------/=======|
COMBATSYS: Marisol Toughs Out Riko's Medium Fling!!
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////// ]
Stasya 1/------=/=======|=======\=====--\1 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 1/-------/=======|
"Okay, what??" the girl replies, her eyes shifting between Riko and Stasya. She blinks once, her lips pulling into a line across her face as she holds her ground, heels pressing firm against the smooth concrete floor. "Hey, I don't like those looks," the half-Spaniard adds, "And those smirks are kind of wrong..!" Are they...perverts?!
Nah, of course not. But they're both jerks!
Suddenly bombarded by ninja and Russian, the half-Spaniard looks thoroughly confused. Grabbed, she's thrown to the ground before she's suddenly smacked with a fistful of painful psi, a loud gasp escaping her lungs. The moment Stasya backs off, Marisol begins to stand up...
Only to hear a nearby hiss of steam, a pipe splintering from its vat and sending a deliciously warm (but delicious!) stream of candy flying RIGHT at her. The girl doesn't bother moving; instead, her eyes shift to Stasya, before she vanishes briefly in that stream of hot liquid.
But there's ...movement. Beneath the gout of candy a figure looms forward, marching diligently through the heat with her arms moving at her sides for added oomph. Charging, the liquid candy-coated half-Spaniard makes a line right FOR Stasya, marching, marching...
Before she breaks OUT of the stream and lunges in on the Russian, her fists swinging fiercely to deliver four nasty hooks before she'll stop. Pulling back, she reels her arm up and clenches her fist tightly, muscles rippling beneath her coated arm...before she lunges forward, driving a nasty fist straight for the center of the Russian girl's chest. "HYAAAAGH!"
COMBATSYS: Stasya blocks Marisol's Atom Smasher.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Stasya 1/----===/=======|=====--\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 1/-------/=======|
Oh come now, it's all in good sport. At least, that's how Stasya's thinking of it; Riko, with her -boiling candy- flinging antics, might not be thinking along quite so clement lines. But sport or no, the Russian girl really doesn't want to be in the way when Marisol comes back out of that splash of hot candy. She knows how hard Marisol hits, and the Pacific student is BOUND to be kinda pissed about being given a candy exoskeleton.
Marisol bursts out of the spray suddenly-- so suddenly, Stasya isn't given time to even think about getting out of the way. Digging in her heels, the girl braces to weather through the blows, letting the strikes glance off her guard. It hurts, but it's far preferable to what it would have been if she'd been caught totally unprepared.
The last hit sends Stasya stumbling back a few paces from the force. Her arms trembling a little, Stasya decides to... to leave Marisol alone for just a few moments. Her eyes turn slowly back towards Riko. Is this alliance so quickly to be dissolved?!
Perhaps Stasya -did- notice that Riko's aim was a little indiscriminate back there.
Whatever the case, her next move is to bolt abruptly towards the other girl, trying to snap an uppercut of a kick into Riko's jaw. Should that connect, she moves immediately to bring her leg back down, striking Riko with another kick... and then, once her heel touches ground again, to spring into a full backflip, lashing out with her leading leg to smash a rising kick into Riko one last time. Each strike hums angrily with that sharp-edged red psi of Stasya's.
COMBATSYS: Riko blocks Stasya's Khanjali.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 1/----===/=======|
RRiko's eyes widen as the Russian girl comes barreling at her. They aren't quite the size of dinner plates, not yet, but at the very least they're scaled to a light snack, possibly a luncheon. She takes a sudden step back, the soles of her factory-worker shoes skidding against the stained concrete floor, slipping in a puddle of spilt food colouring.
"Oh dear," Riko says, out loud, her lower lip quivering in a pout...just as Stasya smashes into her like a psionic-powered freight train compressed into an adolescent nubile form.
Her head rocks back, as the ball of Stasya's foot crunches into Riko's jaw, forcing her teeth together with a loud crack. Her face gets whipped round again with the second hit, spine curving with the blow...the psionic energies giving Riko's body a distinctly crimson cast as she flies. Riko just barely manages to get a warding arm in place before the final kick hits her, meeting it with a raised forearm instead of taking it square to the body. But this does little to dissipate the core impact...a pure block, not a deflection.
With a loud high-pitched wail, Riko goes flying, head over heels, round and round, bouncing off a light fixture overhead, before heading back to Earth as gravity reasserts itself...SPLASHING into one of the big taffy vats in an almighty explosion of fluid candy.
The vat bubbles and hisses, steam rising from the surface, as the ripples subside.
Of Riko, there's no sign.
COMBATSYS: Riko gains composure.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 1/-----==/=======|
The Russian girl...blocked it?
Blinking once in muted disbelief, Marisol watches as the girl stumbles back in momentary pain, gray eyes watching her as she moves slowly toward Riko. Her head tilts, a hand absently reaching up to pull back from her eyes the candy mess that's threatening to cloud her vision. Damn it--she LIKED these jeans, too.
Exhaling as Stasya and Riko trade blows, Marisol just dips her head and begins working her fingers futilely through her hair. She hopes to god this is an easy mess to get out, and if not, well. SNF is going to foot her stylist's bill, 'cause damn. She didn't really WANT to become a living, breathing lollie-pop. "Ugh." When she looks UP however, there's no sign of Riko, save the vat she'd vanished into.
"Tch!" Surely the ninja isn't out THAT fast. Lifting her hands, Marisol dusts the candy coating off her jeans as best as she can before, slowly, her eyes drift toward that vat, then back to Stasya. "Well, I think you successfully scared the ninja off," she observes...before she goes back to picking candy out of her hair. Really, it's all a disguse; she needs a damn moment to breathe here.
COMBATSYS: Marisol gains composure.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 1/-----==/=======|
Landing out of her flip, Stasya looks around instantly to see where Riko's gone. Not finding her with her conventional sight, Stasya tries to pinpoint her with her senses. It's a bit hard, but she thinks she senses something off towards where that big vat is...
Well, she can't reach her in there, anyway. "Che!" Stasya shrugs a little in reply to Marisol's observation, shaking out her arms where they're still stinging from Marisol's blows. "I guess so. I am not going in there after her, though... so I guess this leaves me with you."
And with that, Marisol isn't given more than a few moments before the girl wheels quickly towards her. A hand snaps out swiftly, aiming to strike not with a fist as Marisol does, but with the heel of the hand. A surface which, halfway towards Marisol, suddenly develops a dangerous-looking edge of psi...
Meanwhile, back in the vat...
Bloop.
Bubbles rise to the surface of the big candy vat, the one Riko fell into just moments ago. It's just as well that neither Stasya (nor Marisol) are inclined to jump in there, because it's looking exceedingly hot and distinctly uncomfortable. Bubbles rise to the top, glistening under the lights of the factory - rise and pop, as ripples spread across the molten taffy, shrouded by wisps of sweet-smelling steam.
Bloop.
Riko, though...she's been under for quite some time now.
Bloop.
Taffy pours aside as a shape rises from the depths, breaking through the surface and travelling upwards into the light. Thick syrup pours in rivulets down Riko's sodden hair, oozing down her face as her head comes into view, then her shoulders and torso, the fabric of her factory jumpsuit soaked through by the thick and hot liquid. She keeps rising, her waist above the taffy now, then her thighs, then her legs...until finally she's /standing/ on the surface of the vat.
She flicks her fingers, brushing strands of dripping candy-coated hair from her face. With her other hand, she manipulates the remote control /still/ clutched in her grip. The long telescoping antennae seems to have snapped in half, but the device seems functional. It must be, for Riko continues to rise...until it becomes evident she's standing on something floating in the vat.
It's hard to make out all the details through the layer of candy goop, but it seems she's standing atop a large remote-controlled submarine, of the comically super-deformed variety.
The out-sized periscope twitches left and right a few times, matching the movements of Riko's head as she surveys the scene before her.
COMBATSYS: Riko gathers her will.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 1/-======/=======|
COMBATSYS: Marisol blocks Stasya's Medium Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 1/-======/=======|
"Why not?" Marisol replies. "It's really not so bad. The smell is tolerable, at least." She pauses, offering her a candied-up smirk before a hand reaches up and wipes off her face a bit more. "The stickiness is a bit tough to get used to, I admit." Pausing again, the redhead glances up, crooking her head softly before she smiles. "So it seems!"
A hand lifts, gesturing for the Russian girl to come at her. Come at her she does.
Striking out, the half-Spaniard girl blinks once before she thrusts a hand out. She redirects the blow, that dangerous psi lashing down her arm in the process and leaving a stinging burn angrily surfacing on her arm through her now-singed and frayed candy-coated sleeve. "Nice," she observes.
"But sorry!"
Turning rather suddenly, Marisol faces the vat Riko once vanished into. Smirking sharply, the redhead doesn't waste time; she leaps forward and grabs onto a pipe, scaling that copper vat before she reaches the top. And when she does? She attempts to drive her fist into the ninja-girl's taffy face in hopes of maybe knocking her off the tiny sub and the vat entirely.
"We Wondered where you WENT!"
Recoiling as Marisol deals with her strike, Stasya shakes her head. "It might not be bad-smelling," she counters, "but it would be awful in this hair." She runs a hand through the blonde strands with a shudder, and then-- just to be sure-- she binds it back and up with a hairtie. She hasn't been splashed yet in this fight, but she's not about to take any chances.
A sudden bubbling alerts her to Riko's resurfacing, and Stasya looks around in surprise as the girl shows up on-- her very own personal submarine. By this time, Stasya has ceased entirely to be surprised by the things Riko shows up with; she simply blinks at the contraption, and then at Marisol when she leaps forward to scale the pipes.
Stasya? She's in no hurry to go up there. The others have got their breather already, and she thinks it's high time she had one too.
COMBATSYS: Stasya gains composure.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 1/-======/=======|
COMBATSYS: Riko blocks Marisol's Medium Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 1/-======/=======|
"I'm sorry," Riko says, archly, "to have worried you."
It's the sort of tone someone uses when they really don't mean what they're saying, at all, absolutely, uh-uh.
Riko lifts an eyebrow in Marisol's direction, her expression just barely visible beneath the candy goop still coating her face and plastering hair to her skull. She brandishes a smile, and it's just about possible to make out her lips crooking and cheeks dimpling in a lopsided grin.
She holds her trusty radio control set in her right hand. With her left, Riko reaches out and intercepts Marisol's punch, locking her forearm with the other girl's and shoving it to one side. The effort draws a hiss of pain from Riko's lungs, but that doesn't slow her down. Not much, anyway.
"Now," Riko says, "'xcuse me while I nuke the Russians."
Her free hand twitches, and with an excessively dramatic motion, she flips the cover of a particular switch on her remote, the protective plastic casing rattling as it swings on the hinges. The control beneath glows an ominous red before Riko forces it down with her thumb, triggering the contact with vicious force.
Beneath Riko's feet, the oversized toy submarine she's standing on bobs in the taffy vat, fins splashing on the surface. The large convex lens on the submarine's periscope irises shut for a moment, in a manner not unlike a wink.
And that's when the cruise missile covers open, hatches springing on a hiss of electric motors. It isn't physical projectiles that arch skyward, though, but streaking rockets of crackling electric blue energy, shaped and given form by the ninjutsu seals etched into the launch tubes. Flying high, high, high, dancing round the rafters of the candy factory - before all curving inward and flying straight at Stasya.
Yes, this is a ninja submarine. Why do you ask?
Having left poor Stasya behind to catch her breath, Marisol instead sets her sights on the wily little ninja. Scaling the copper vats with frenzied determination, the redhead slings a punch right at Riko's face. But rather than collide candy-covered fist with her taffy-coated face, her taped-up knuckles instead wind up hitting empty air, her arm redirected and briefly locked.
And then Riko excuses herself to start another Cold War.
"What??"
Then all hell breaks loose.
Nearly losing her balance, Marisol's arms flail as the submarine launches energy, all of which flies high above before they beeline right for the Russian girl below. A light frown crosses Marisol's lips, her eyes drifting back onto Riko. "What kind of weapons are you bringin' to this fight!?" the half-Spaniard wonders aloud. God help her if she replies with 'ninja weapons.'
Regardless of her answer, Marisol swiftly throws herself forward once more; she attempts to drive a fist into Riko's face, followed by a swift uppercut with the opposite arm. Only if the two connect with the redhead suddenly whip around on her perch, pivoting on her heel to deliver a spinning hook kick aimed right for the ninja's temple. "HYAG!"
COMBATSYS: Riko successfully hits Stasya with Level 360.
- Power hit! -
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 0/-------/-======|
That can't be kosher.
Stasya doesn't even have the first idea how to react to a sudden missile strike coming her way. It just doesn't even occur to her what she should do. She's never met a ninja before, after all. And once she finally tries to start a guard, it's too little, too late; the artillery SLAMS into her, her surprise only sharpening the force of the epxlosion. She flies clear back, slamming into a vat and folding to the ground in a surprised daze.
Okay. Now she's irritated. "The Cold War," she manages eventually, sounding indignant at this missile strike, "is over already!"
Pulling herself upright, she stalks back towards Marisol and Riko, moving with a slight hitch: but with purpose, nonetheless. Scaling swiftly up to their level, she lunges for the ninja, thrusting an arm forward: her hand falls far short of Riko, but the sudden lance of psi that spears down her arm, threatening to impale the girl certainly won't, if Riko doesn't get out of the way.
COMBATSYS: Riko dodges Marisol's Iron Whip.
[ \\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Stasya 0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: Stasya successfully hits Riko with Halteclere.
[ \\\\\\\\ < > ////////////// ]
Stasya 1/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 1/------=/=======|
Riko drops low, letting Marisol's punches whip through empty air. As she moves, Riko considers Marisol's question, repeating what the half-Spanish girl asked:- "Weapons?"
"Iie," Riko states, bluntly, "no. I'm mainly testing our electronic control systems. I'd have done avonics, but there's not much room in here. So I used sub-kun."
The little ninja ghosts back a step, her foot tapping against the hull of the floating mini-submarine as she goes.
Riko opens her mouth - then whips round, just in time to catch Stasya's retort. What she /isn't/ in time to catch is the lance of furious psionic energy that catches her right in the abdomen, just under the ribs - quite possibly the worst place to be hit with a highly compressed blow like that. Riko gasps, nerves going crazy, as she's knocked back and off the little sub entirely, running painfully against the rim of the big candy vat. She just /barely/ manages to stop herself from falling over the side, clinging to the vat. Good thing, too, it's a long way to the floor.
Her remote control isn't so lucky - it slips from her nerveless fingers and crashes into the concrete below, what's left of the antennae snapping off as the plastic case bounces.
"Cold war," Riko gasps out, looking at both Marisol and Stasya in turn, "isn't the only war..."
She speaks plainly, honestly, with no hint of dissembling...except that what she says /surely/ makes no sense to either of the girls. Technology development? War? But then, her choice of words /is/ precise...and she's aware this whole fight is going out on live television.
Riko moves, then, dancing upright on the edge of the vat. One step, two, and she's close to Marisol, spinning a palm into the other girl - a deceptively light shove, but one calculated to convey maximum transmission of velocity. With everyone standing on the edge of a big ol' candy vat, a small misstep could...hurt.
COMBATSYS: Marisol endures Riko's Isometric View.
[ \\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Stasya 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Riko 1/------=/=======|
While Marisol doesn't get lucky, it would seem the new arrival to the vat-bound fight, Stasya, fares better. But the half-Spaniard girl just smirks in response to the kunoichi, gray eyes half-lidded as she offers an honest expression. "Who said anything about a war? All we're doing is just fighting." Well, for the most part. Riko has her toys, after all.
Shaking her head absently, the redhead glances to Stasya, offering her a pensive look before she turns her attentions back onto Riko. The girl moves swiftly toward her, closing in--but Marisol doesn't seem to care. Instead, the redhead is struck by the shove, the blow strikingly more powerful than she'd imagined from someone built like the ninja. She staggers backwards, grunting softly as her feet dance dangerously close to the edge of the copper vat.
But the girl manages to stay her ground. In that moment the girl attempts to swiftly retaliate on Riko and her offending hands, launching herself forward and swinging a right hook aimed for the side of the kunoichi's taffy'd face!
Isn't the only war? What kind of thing is that to say?
Made a little uneasy by the declaration-- perhaps less able to shake off the statement than Marisol because of her background and upbringing-- Stasya hangs back. She doesn't attack again even despite the fact she's managed to land her hit against Riko. She could press her advantage against the ninja, but instead she circles back, picking her way carefully around the rim of the vat.
She's making her way, slowly, towards Marisol.
She doesn't want to throw too unbalancing of a strike, or something that would shove Marisol off the vat or into the /really hot/ candy. But she isn't entirely going to go easy, either. Once she's close enough to the other girl, she lunges quickly forward, seeking to twist Marisol's free arm swiftly around into an armlock: and should she succeed, a jolt of psi transmits through Stasya's restraining hands.
COMBATSYS: Marisol successfully hits Riko with Hook Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Stasya 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Marisol
[ \\\\ <
Riko 1/----===/=======|
Meanwhile, as Stasya tries to get to grips with a decidedly sticky Marisol...well, her psi-charged lock doesn't come in time to slow the girl down. Her tightly curled fist still smacks into Riko's face, slamming painfully into the smaller girl's skull. Point blank range, with little time or space to evade. Not right at the edge of the candy vat. Not like that.
here's a tremendous CRACK as Riko's head rocks back. She rolls with the blow, somehow remaining on her feet, just barely balanced on the outer rim of the bubbling and hissing cylinder. She's swaying dangerously now, and her eyes make it clear she's barely able to focus.
Riko lifts one hand, slowly, deliberately, squinting hard through blurred vision.
"Okay," Riko says, speaking with a split lip, "you go boom."
She cocks her thumb and forefinger at Marisol, before finally keeling over, sliding off the vat and tumbling bonelessly to the floor of the factory. A thud, and she lies still.
For a moment, nothing happens.
Then the large remote-controlled submarine, still bobbing and floating in the middle of the candy vat...turns, propellers splashing against the thick candy muck, until it comes into line with Marisol, the periscope lens irising open and closed.
The submarine wobbles.
Then it proceeds forward with all due haste, leaving an almighty bow wake of hot candy as it powers across the vat, up the side, and right into Marisol at full RAMMING SPEED.
The Captain goes down with her ship!
COMBATSYS: Riko can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Marisol 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Stasya
COMBATSYS: Marisol blocks Stasya's Medium Throw.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Marisol 0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Stasya
COMBATSYS: Marisol blocks Riko's Chaos Tactics.
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Marisol 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Stasya
Well this can't be good.
Striking Riko with a nasty hook, Marisol's features are somewhat stern, a fiercely determined look on her face as she attempts to weather through candy coatings and her body trying to slow down due to tiredness and just plain aching all over. Riko wobbles before she speaks, her words earning her a light squint from the redhead. "What??" she asks. It'll become obvious soon enough.
When Riko falls, the redhead turns around and shoots Stasya a grin- -at least until she notes the girl is attempting to grab her. The half-Spaniard plants her feet HARD and braces herself, Stasya's grip managing to get a hold, but not pin her as desired. A flicker of Psi lances through her arm, drawing a wince from the girl before she struggles backwards to separate herself from the Russian. "That--"
A sudden whir and splash of liquid candy cuts Marisol off, her eyes turning to the side as the submarine wobbles forward and chugs a path for the girl. Dropping her shoulders and again planting her feet, she braces for impact, the submarine crashing against her locked legs and earning her a light grunt. A short, tired exhale follows, a glance spared over the vat edge. Is...she's not dead is she?
Shaking her head a few times, the redhead dismisses her thoughts before she smirks, eyeing Stasya closely. Without saying a word she just bolts forward, attempting to drive a fist into the Russian's gut, followed by her arms snapping up, attempting to seize her by the skull. If she grips she'll drag the girl's head down, driving her face into her knee before she'll shove back, swinging a leg upwards for a kick to her jaw. "HAAAAAH!!!"
Hopefully she won't fall into the candy. HOPEFULLY.
COMBATSYS: Stasya blocks Marisol's Chain Reaction.
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Marisol 1/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Stasya
Letting go of Marisol as soon as she realizes she's not going to get that great of a purchase on the other girl, Stasya skips back just in time to get the hell out of the way when the submarine suddenly chugs to life and starts making a beeline for the redhead. Stasya eyes the conveyance with deep suspicion, as if expecting it to explode at any moment. You never know, with a ninja.
But it does nothing more. At least, for the moment. And Stasya soon forgets about it; she's got a boxer to deal with. Her eyes snap back up to Marisol as the other comes for her, and the Russian quickly gets a guard up as the other girl slams her fist in. Deflecting the first strike with a distinct jar all down her arm, she ducks quickly away before Marisol can finish. And-- hopefully while Marisol is still overextended-- Stasya abruptly surges back forwards, trying to give the redhead a dose of what she tried to give Riko earlier.
With an unnatural balance, Stasya tries to slam the same three kicks she tried to lay into Riko into Marisol: the swift upwards snap, a downwards swipe, and then a last kick made twice as forceful by the backflip that drives it. Each kick comes laced with that cutting psi. With any luck, she'll have the agility to land back-- a little wobbly-- on the edge of the vat... but, well, -anything- could happen in between execution and completion.
COMBATSYS: Marisol dodges Stasya's Khanjali.
[ \\\\\\\\\ < > //// ]
Marisol 1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Stasya
To Marisol's surprise, Stasya deftly handles the assault. Her punch is merely directed elsewhere, deflected by the Russian girl's forearm and sending the redhead's fist sprawling off to the side. Immediately her fist recoils, as fingers curl into tight fists at her hips. She takes a step back, bracing herself.
But Stasya's on the move. Quite suddenly the girl is attempting to drive a kick into the boxer girl--and Marisol is having none of that. Thus does she dip aside, ducking and weaving around that upwards snap, her body following as she avoids the downward kick as well. The final kick and the psi around her leg cuts through empty air; meanwhile, Marisol lets her eyes go wide. Time to capitalize..!!
Drawing a fist back, the girl plants a foot and twists her body, attempting to deliver a swift, almost fleeting blow into Stasya's ribs--something with plenty of force behind it no thanks to Marisol's man-like strength, but not enough to send her sprawling into a vat of candy goop!
COMBATSYS: Marisol successfully hits Stasya with Light Punch.
[ \\\\\\\\\\ < > ]
Marisol 1/------=/=======|====---\-------\0 Stasya
Stasya barely even has time to land before Marisol's flashed forward with a retaliation. Stumbling to a halt, she tries her best to get out of the way-- but doesn't quite manage it. She -doesn't- fall off into the vat, as predicted, but even that fleeting strike from Marisol still hurt. Hissing out an annoyed breath, the blonde sets her stance and lunges back forward a last time: shoulder-first.
Should she get Marisol with her shoulder check, a brief flare of pointed psi will unsheathe out from the point of contact, piercing into the other girl. It's mere energy, and has no more ability to pin Marisol in place than smoke, but from how it looks one could certainly imagine that the girl is trying to stick Marisol in place. From there, if successful, she'll try to grasp the other girl and twist sharply around, pivoting to send Marisol tumbling in a quick throw.
And then? Well, Stasya goes the same way as Riko. Unable to stay standing, the girl goes limp. It's up to the success or failure of her final attack to determine where she actually -ends up-... but wherever it is, Stasya is going there pretty solidly knocked out.
COMBATSYS: Stasya can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\ <
Marisol 1/------=/=======|
COMBATSYS: Marisol blocks Stasya's Cortana.
[ \\\\\\\\ <
Marisol 1/------=/=======|
Stasya's recoil draws a distantly concerned look over the boxer girl's face as she staggers precariously along the vat's edge, lips pulling into a thin line. She doesn't break stance, however; arms remain held up, fists curled loosely as she watches the Russian's every move. And then, unexpectedly on Stasya's part, she charges forward, intent on slamming her shoulder into the half-Spaniard's chest. She blinks, before her arms drop and thrust forward, to catch the girl's shoulder halfway. Psi lances outward, cutting through her hand and drawing a hiss from the redhead before she shoves.
Stumbling away from the other girl before her arm snaps out and attempts to tumble her over the vat's edge, those gray eyes are entirely fixed on the blonde. That is at least until she falls limp along the perch surrounding the vat. Once, twice; three times the redhead blinks before she begins to step forward--
Until a loud voice booms over the PA, calling the fight to an end. Workers from the high catwalks above cheer and call out with approval, as SNF medics begin to enter the scene to attend to the fighters' wounds. Marisol? Looks mildly confused before she pumps a fist into the sky with a cheerful "YEAH!" And then? She falls to her knees and exhales loudly. She needs to rest now, because...damn. Just damn.
COMBATSYS: Marisol has ended the fight here.
Log created on 21:21:36 09/28/2008 by Marisol, and last modified on 01:30:14 10/06/2008.