Description: Watch... and be amazed! AT BALROG'S BICEPS. It's an amazing sight, truly never matched by anything before. Pretty pretty biceps. Oh Balrog, can't you see you are such a precious man.. why don't you pay attention to m-.. ER THERE IS A FIGHT HERE. YES. ( Winner: Balrog )
It's quite a wonder how the Neo League staff manage to find locations. Frequently unique even by the standard set in other sanctioned bouts, past and present, it seems that little expense is spared in locating the most obscure parts of the world in order to use and abuse them for fun, profit and bloodshed. On this occasion, they have discovered an old cathedral in South Africa... unusual due to it's age and the extent of dilapidation. Somewhat shy of three hundred and fifty years old, the grandiose structure lies abandoned and rotting, stained glass shattered across stained and broken tiles, hardwood doors hanging loose off hinges or - in some cases - completely vanished.
It truly is a testament to broken beauty. Where better to place the semi-legendary black-market aesthete known only as Balrog? Like this crumbling building, his original status has been lost to the mists of time, leaving the mere husk about which an entirely new life has been forged. Upon this he reflects as he stalks the dusty aisle, elegantly slippered feet pushing aside the remains of prayer books and even the odd shawl, left by some unfortunate member of the clergy. What happened here is a mystery, much as his own past is to the public.
But more than anything, this place represents the failure of innovation, the folly of mankind in presuming to advance before his time. Failed civilization, at it's most completely touching. Balrog may have a fierce reputation amongst the world's fighters - and certainly for his actions deep in the criminal underground - but it touches even he. He smiles beneath the mask, revelling in the very human feeling as he approaches the altar, raising his unclawed left hand to brush a strand of perfect blonde hair from his mask. Blue eyes glimmer, and a smile spreads as he turns, awaiting the arrival of his rather.. curious opponent.
Rarely has he received so intriguing a challenge; locale and warrior both are a surprise indeed.
Location: Ruined Catherdal, Africa.
That is where the NESTs cartel delivers their machine to. A machine uninterested in shape, size, aesthetic pleasing, and in small degrees, it's very own purpose. It's clothing is that of Kula Diamond, yet it does not really wear clothing. A machine lacks anything that makes them pretty. The holograms do that, making her hair to be thin, human like in sight. It is only an image. Much like her clothing is but an image, purple like Kula's. The blue hair is shorter than Kula's by much.
She may pass off as a younger sister, perhaps. Or maybe the nerdy one of the two.
Yet her footsteps do nothing to mask her presence as she arrives. It is with disinterest that she regards the battlefield, yet data flows through her eyes, scanning the battlefield for usable positions, damaged portions of the building, or simply anything of interest. It doesn't take more than a few seconds before her gaze once again falls forwards, towards Balrog, at the altar.
She does not bother with pleasantries. The machine has been given orders. In that, she is perfect. She does not question, lacks self preservation, and deems her existence to be that of a tool. And now, she stares upon 'Beauty'.
And does not even notice. Balrog's sight does not distract her. "So you must be my opponent." She speaks up, voice measured. Human in a way, but only so she would not be immediately called out. "I am ready, Mr. Balrog." What a name. She makes no words of his clothing, his hair, or his beauty. To a machine, it is merely the outer layer.
Ah, Kula Diamond. A name upon which research would yield a great deal of highly enlightening material - dozens of recorded fights to her name, hundreds more that have somehow made their way into those particular records accessible courtesy of Shadaloo's eerie talent for gathering information. Lord Vega's surveillance teams, bolstered by plenty of expensive equipment, miss very little. Balrog even has a clue as to what precisely he might be facing today...
But he does not know for sure. When Candy enters the booming hall, muffled-metal footfalls echoing inescapably, the Spaniard focuses upon her. Beneath the mask, his smile fades in concentration, eyes narrowing as he considers the less than original image before him. The names match, the wardrobe matches. The faces, fortunately, do not. Beauty must, by essence, be found in variety - only unique specimens may be considered aesthetically pleasing, for anything else is merely mundane. Formulaic.
"Indeed, I am your opponent," Balrog speaks at last, tone smooth and cultured, pitched low yet carried easily by the vaulted ceiling above. It is the clawed hand which rises now, fingertips curling up and then outward along sharp steel as he bows from the waist, paying formal greeting the hologrammatic girl. His opinion on her appearance is withheld, and his opinion on her manner also. For now. There is a purpose here; there are cameras, there is an audience. Appearances must be upheld. "Though whether you are ready remains to be seen."
A sinister chuckle emits from behind that eerie visage, carried in an oscillating, repetitive hum before it reaches Candy. The claw cuts a slow, gentle arc in the air, and with a flex of powerful legs Balrog leaps upon the bare altar. Metal points come to rest beside his knee, posture comfortable, though the impressive muscles upon his chests and arms speak of constant readiness. Almost idly, at hip height, he makes a vague beckoning motion with the bare hand, inviting the robotic woman to advance. "Please, allow me to judge."
COMBATSYS: Balrog has started a fight here.
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Balrog 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Candy has joined the fight here.
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Candy 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Balrog
It was not the Cartels intention to make something of Candy. Her visuals were never to be truly important. The machine was lucky she was made even slightly pleasing. But.. she must be. For their dear creation Kula. She would only accept something that appealed to the childish nature. Candy was something like that. A doll, to a degree. Not porcelain, but metal.
Her eyes begin to focus upon Balrog, as he speaks, the voice going quite far enough to reach her. In such a small area, it is easy to record. Easy to hear, as well. But the sight is interesting. Especially as the man, metal points sliding out from his form. Claws. Immediately Candy recognizes the fighting style. Quite a few warriors use claws. Their style is noted if only due to the quick motions, and body, that generally comes with them.
Candy takes a step forwards, silent for the most part. She has no need to fulfill any personal goal. No urge to fight, to prove. She merely follows orders. The arc is noted, and with Balrog on the altar, the robotic opponent decides to make a motion.
He has claimed to be the judge.
"Of course." She speaks, her footsteps slow and measured still, before sliding her hands back, two lengths of pipe slid out, before being grasped, the tonfas ejecting from her back.. but Balrog may not be able to see behind her. "I would not like to keep you waiting."
Pistons erupt, the next step far stronger, Candy being launched into the air. She flips once, as the heavy metal rights itself, before aiming downwards.. at both Balrog and the altar. A leg is extended, leader clad, towards the man's chest.
Robotic strength is helpful.. but she is not like Balrog. She lacks true strength.
COMBATSYS: Balrog dodges Candy's Light Kick.
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Candy 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Balrog
The claws are the mark of a ninja; this is no secret to any who have seen Balrog at work, or had the fortune to only hear of him through a process of Chinese whispers. His speed only forms a single part of the complete package; this is not a man to be measured lightly. It says something of NESTS that they would send a machine, capable of being rebuilt better, faster and stronger. Igniz is not a stupid man. A trait the Spaniard can appreciate... there are many things they might appreciate about each other.
Though truth be told, little is currently appreciated in Candy save the tactical choice in her employment. Neither exceptionally beautiful nor yet amusing to play with, judgement has been reserved for the present only because Balrog is not an unreasonable man. Just as Shadaloo's Dolls are full of surprises, so has been the seeming counterpoint found in Kula. Her 'sister' can only hold further revelations, as dull and inhuman as her demeanour suggests she may be. Cammy is far from dissimilar, and she.. she is exquisite, a creature of perfection waiting to be honed.
Appreciative of skill as well as beauty, Balrog carefully watches the opening motions of young Candy Diamond, sapphire blues sweeping her supple frame and focusing upon every available nuance. He does not miss her grasping of curious pipes, nor does he miss the nature of her movements. So practiced, so effectively choreographed. So predictable. He lifts his head, following her into the air, and then simply sways to one side as she approaches, allowing the extended foot to whip so close past his mask as to send a cool gust along the unspoilt flesh beneath.
"Close," he croons, savouring the word. Yet not failing to act; his arms already move to wrap around Candy, pulling her into a tight hold against his firm, chiselled frame. Crushing only slightly, should he maintain the grasp it will be a far more painful ride for the robomaid when Balrog suddenly /launches/ himself directly upward, eyes wide and blazing in dark sockets, fixed upon her own. A full dozen feet are covered by the astonishing leap, before with a stomach-lurching rotation, they plunge back toward the ground.
A slight shift at the last second will see the 'girl' crash headlong into the solid stone of the altar, hard enough to spiderweb the hard rock and send a quiver through the base. Hard enough to give Balrog all the momentum he needs to roll away through the air, landing in a deft crouch among the tilted pews. He does not lack 'true strength'.
COMBATSYS: Balrog successfully hits Candy with Izuna Drop.
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Candy 1/------=/=======|===----\-------\0 Balrog
Things do not go quite well, as Balrog simply sways out of the way. The skill is expected, much like how expected the rest is. Candy is not capable of such a battle. Her design had no included those like Balrog, and those who would even give Igniz and Kula a bit of a trouble during test. Yes, these were just not meant for candy.
And Balrog launches forwards, Candy assaulted as she stands there, there is not much before she is brought upwards with Balrog.. before she is carried downwards with the man. She can tell, from gravity, he path is downwards. There will only be a single stop. The frame crashes heavily against the ground, as rock is chipped away from the terrible impact.
As Balrog retreats from the action, Candy pulls up, slowly. The impact is far more than she could have easily dealt with, and upwards, the machine rises. "Negative." She speaks, finally. "There was quite a bit of space." As if to argue his knowledge of what close is. To a machine, this answer can be inches.. or pico-meters.
Her disguise continues to hold, at least for now, as Candy brings an arm back. It should be quite obvious of her motion... because a moment later, as it extends, something flies from it. A spiralling object, something akin to a column of light, streaks through the air, towards Balrog.
It is indeed light. It is just woven in a way, that makes it completely different.
COMBATSYS: Balrog dodges Candy's Critical Shoot.
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Candy 1/------=/=======|===----\-------\0 Balrog
From his unenviable position amongst old, musty wood, Vega's lieutenant is given all the space he needs to prepare while Candy forces herself upright. A sharp gaze watches, analyses, and while he is no droid... Balrog can guess the extent of the damage. He could feel it upon impact; there is a palpable difference between a powerful warrior bracing for a blow, and a fighter of moderate training doing their best to remain conscious. But the way Candy moved, the way she subsequently speaks after such a laboured rise, it is subtly wrong. Any man trained to watch the play of flesh and muscle, to sense strength and weakness in the observed, could see it.
Even so, Igniz is a master of his craft. When stationary, Candy resembles nothing more than she appears, down to the finest detail. Perhaps he has discovered Psycho Power for himself, but it seems highly doubtful. The Spaniard laughs, once at the thought and a second time as he slips to his feet, acknowledging Candy's statement with a cant of his head. "I see I'm fighting a master," he fires back, amusement plain in his tone. Then that arm rises, energy blossoms into being, and he is forced to move again. "At least of logic, and plain speech!"
This time the motion is far more dynamic, that spinning pillar frying the space occupied by Balrog but an instant before as he flips to the side, curling with all the athleticism his style demands in order to evade... and more. A palm fires out, slapping to the floor, the momentary point of rotation all he needs to perform a second tumble, this one high into the dimly-lit ceiling. Spinning, feet together and arms outstretched, the Spaniard soars overhead like some vengeful bird of prey.
He comes down in a flash, a streak of light himself as sunlight - filtering through broken windows - catches that vicious claw. A rainbow maelstrom of colour flies off it's edge on descent, numerous tinted shades reflected in a rapid half-second. And then, he is upon Candy once more, the trio of blades brought whipping around to gouge at the back and shoulders.
As he bends like a reed in the wind, spinning away for another nimble landing, Balrog quietly states a simple question. An obvious question. One that needs to be asked. "Why did you challenge me, Miss Diamond?"
COMBATSYS: Candy interrupts Flying Barcelona Attack from Balrog with Access Violation.
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Candy 1/---====/=======|======-\-------\0 Balrog
The light is evaded. It is not as simple as Balrog makes it look. A tumble to the side, curling away. His body in motion, leaping, spiralling, rotating. His movement is fluid, and there is no one point where Candy can decide she would be able to spear the light out at him. Infact, as much as it tries, the column is incapable of keeping up, as Balrog rises during his evasion.
The column of light meanwhile crashes against the wall, digging into the stone and perhaps brick wall, but not cleaving through it. She is still not capable of that. A scar is left where Balrog should have been.
But the sensors catch onto Balrog as he moves. Candy, already having suffered such systematic damage, deems it necessary to overclock her systems. It is a feat she is only capable of once.
With Balrog on the move, Candy moves as well. Staying still is a rather poor choice, but a few moments later, she is caught flatfooted. The man is too fast. Too fast, in that while moving around is optimal, to stand still is her only choice in such a moment.
The man almost a blur in his motions. She would need to catch him on his assault.
And there he comes. The trio of blades seek purchase.
They do not bring forth blood, but dig into something which emits a more screeching sound. You cannot hide what you are not. Perhaps Balrog would be more surprised she had been waiting for him to make the first action.
As the blades connect, the sensors pick the sound up. About her, light begins to weave, a spherical shape as the machine processes faster than allowed, rapidly overheating. light weaving through the air about her, Balrog is caught within it, and the light seems to be .. anything but energy like. It is solid. THe weaving cleaves against Balrog angrily, lashing out at what's caught within.
But as quick as it starts, it is over, the weaving launching Balrog away first, before Candy staggers backwards, the overheating machine needing to take some time to prepare once again, before she is fully operational.
"It was necessary." She notes. "You are an experienced fighter. A warrior employed by another." She adds. "I am merely interested.. what kind of power you control."
Or, simply put. She wishes to collect any information on his that she is capable of.
So Igniz would not be unaware of what may stand in his way, one day.
Would that Balrog's ears were as finely attuned as some of his other senses; he may detect the whirr of circuitry, machinery working overtime to track and subdue his acrobatic assault. Fortunate for his curiosity, that he needs no special ability to note the lack of blood nor the tooth-grinding shriek raised upon contact with the metal maiden. Her nature revealed, his eyes widen, the predatory and wickedly entertained smile once more flaring into being beneath the mask.
He is not allowed a moment to tarry in pleasure, nor to perform the final motions of his guerilla attack. It comes as even more of a surprise that the innocent-looking android can do more than soak damage and take notes - and though it's a pleasant surprise, the pain is none the less real. Unusual in execution and effect, the grid of material light strikes Balrog over and over, giving no quarter as it twists his body into positions that would be overwhelmingly unnatural on a lesser martial artist. But the former nobleman is flexible in the extreme, weathering the storm with a sharp hiss as it abates, tossing him into a sidelong spin he can only barely correct by maintaining posture with the upper body and grounding with a sharp twist of the lower.
"Wonderful!" He cries as both feet hit the floor together, a slight stagger making it as much of a crash landing as most will ever see from Balrog. It is testament to Candy's programming, though... "A pity you cannot exceed your level without being redesigned. You are not interested," he waves a dismissive hand, ignoring the thrum of pain it sends through his impacted torso, "You are told to be. And you obey. But I shall give your masters the display they crave - call it," both arms lift to either side, a bend of the knees following as the Spaniard frames another bow, "A gift, from me, to the inimitable Candy Diamond."
Balrog straightens his posture, and a hand dips to his waistline. There, stem twisted through the red sash hanging from his hip, lies a single red rose; perfect, beautiful, fragrant. He lifts the exquisite flower and tosses it toward the robotic woman. It falls short. Far short. Naturally, this is the point, as the very moment it hits the flagstones the European ninja moves in a searing flash, all but teleporting into proximity with Candy. The claw strikes, seeking purchase on whatever may lie within... blood, or circuitry... whatever transmits a message to the rest of the body.
COMBATSYS: Candy blocks Balrog's Red Impact.
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Candy 1/-------/=======|-------\-------\0 Balrog
Many have called Balrog a beast, an abomination, a man most foul and black-hearted. There are two sides to every story, six sides to a die. Perhaps greater exploration of his character is due before passing judgement, but... perhaps not. When that claws finds purchase with another high-pitched scream of protesting steel, it heralds just the first stage in an attack that takes a second to execute, but can take an age to recover from.
The initial stab strives to dig a shallow wound, here piercing through resistant metals to carve a gouge in the companion droid's chest. It is enough to see her whipped into the air from a simple whip of the arm, easily concealed in the same smooth movement. It is Candy's turn to soar into the air, and the Spaniard slides forward on graceful footing, spreading his legs beneath him and hurling the claw heavenward to meet her descent... points prepared to pierce, lengthy blades ready to slide deep and fierce.
The machine makes no response. The man has 'Candy Diamond' figured out. It does not take a brilliant man to know the difference. But it certainly helps. Candy's gaze rises. Noticing the effect on the man.. or rather.. the lack of effect on the man. Balrog has quite a bit of strength.. and her assault, which has rendered many others wounded..
Is weathered by the man. The machine glances towards him, eyes taking it in. It is noted for later. The fact that he boasts how wonderful it was, and then how worthless she may be. The machine cannot argue each point. Candy is a lack to. That she cannot exceed her capabilities without a re-design is just a fact, just another one. Where a fighter may be angry that they are called simple, or be defiant, that they indeed will one day grow stronger.
It is with a silent nod she agrees.
And the hologram falls off. Candy Diamond's look is .. rather simple. A machine, bolts and bits here and there. She is certainly not a very beautiful creature. Her normal look is stylized still, somewhat pleasing to the eye. But she is certainly not like Balrog.
"Affirmative." Is her own words to the assault she is now given the task to bear through. Something she does willingly, as well as being told. Perhaps that is her only will.
Tracking Balrog, it's as he tosses the flower towards her that her gaze falls upon it. And then Balrog moves. What is seconds to many other fighters is a variety of time to Candy Diamond. Where as a second is a length, if she is paying apt attention, the world moves by in milliseconds or less. A computer has no set time, capable of performing millions of actions in the same time. But there is always room for failure. Calculations that cannot be completed. Unseen variables. Error checking.
Everything has a possible mistake.
Yet this time, the machine is capable of tracking Balrog, the signal sent to her arms to piston into place. And right as the claw strikes forwards, the arms close, metal bending into place.
And the claw rips through the simple metal, going so far as to still pierce through the arms, ripping into them, into the chest, and whipped into the air, as Candy's sliced once more. But it is to the least important parts, that Candy is subjected to by the assault. Armoring ripped apart, as she hits the ground, her arms and legs are stripped of metal. But the inner circuitry is still yet working. Intact.
Yet there is little between her and Balrog, now. Her circuits are in the open.
Sparking.. she backs up. ".. Lethal damage..." The machine continues on. "Guard against assaults .. proves only a deterrent.." It's true. From the defense, the machinery can only guess at triple the damage.
It is quite a surprising amount.. against steel.
But Candy stands yet, and pistons moving her legs, travels forwards against the stones.. launching upwards from a stronger, quick motion.. yet a tell tale spin begins, the woman spiralling within the air, towards Balrog. One leg stays in the middle as the rest of her spins, whipping around a literal pipe like length of steel.. the robot almost dancing in the air.
Of course, it's intent is to crash the leg into Balrog.
It may be a long shot, with his speed.
COMBATSYS: Balrog interrupts Lay Spin from Candy with Stardust Drop.
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Candy 1/-======/=======|==-----\-------\0 Balrog
Without the hologram, Candy still retains some semblance of humanity in the basic design. Enough to inspire trust, empathy and perhaps even love in a fairly normal mind. A precious doll, perhaps even dearer than human - a little divorced from the cruelty and hatred that cynical times see identified as primary traits of the homo sapien condition. To a man like Balrog, her appearance makes no difference whatsoever; to know what she is proves enough, even the most compelling aesthetic could not change it. She is a fabrication. At best, somebody's ideal limited by technology. At worst, an item created purely for function.
The buzzing circuitry is intriguing, however. Notably for the value such information could hold to Vega, similar to the data the android strives to collect for her own megalomaniacal master. Whilst Candy languishes upon the ground, Balrog lowers his claw with a soft 'hmph', shooting a darting sidelong glance into the wings of the cathedral. Therein must lie the League cameras. A thought occurs. Turning back to his opponent, the bloody-minded warrior takes a calm step backward, lowering his cutlery as he addresses the woman of steel.
"You should be more careful, Miss Diamond," Balrog's voice is controlled, even a little caring, though it carries an unshakeable confidence that could never be entirely trustworthy to one with reason to mistrust, "Revealing your nature on live television? Surely this limits your capabilities... shares too much with the outside world." Those sapphire blue eyes narrow as she closes in, ceasing discussion to instead focus on the fight. The fallen noble is more than prepared. She spins, and he steps in, twisting from the abdomen to present his tensed, solid chest to the strike. To a flesh-and-blood fighter, it would feel like striking granite. To Candy... she will likely know every last detail, know exactly how trained and capable the former bullfighter is.
"I can take care of that," he murmurs, leaning in close against her extended leg to snag a left-handed grip upon her ravaged chest. Lithe, powerful fingers dig in for a solid hold, before with a whipcrack of motion he spins about, hauling Candy with him and hurling her bodily across the wide chamber. She is sent scattering wildly through the nearby pews, pulping wood in her wake. Balrog cares nothing for preserving another man's toys. "In turn," he calls after the robot, raising his voice to a comfortably loud volume, commanding and authoritative, "You will carry a message to your masters. Tell them I am willing to give a personal demonstration. Tell them Shadaloo may even be interested in an exchange of ideas."
COMBATSYS: Candy focuses on her next action.
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Balrog 0/-------/-----==|
COMBATSYS: Candy can no longer fight.
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Balrog 0/-------/-----==|
There was no expectation for that. As she strikes, Balrog's voice is heard, but not listened to. It is then that he takes a calm step back.. and goes on about what she is. "Noted. Unimportant.." Because if she was going to do something, a goal.. she would never make the mistake of being found out.
Missions and fights.. are completely different things.
The damage is too much, however, for her to keep up the hologram. But yet as he's prepared, leaping outwards, snagging it with a grip, and then digging in .. Candy is gripped, before she's hurtled across the wide chamber, the metal body crashing through the wooden, mostly rotted, before coming to a stop.. sparking.
She attempts to regain focus, eyes fighting to re-align despite all the damage.
"A-Affirmative." Comes the robots response, as he speaks up. That Shadaloo would be interested. That they may be interested in a demonstration. The message relayed, Candy nods, and fights to sit upwards.
It is all she can do, before the power drains from the machine. Candy losing everything in that moment, and falling back, clattering against the wall, body silent, a persistent whirr of a machine fighting to start up, but eventually dying down to nothing.
She is down.
Balrog recovers from the throw in a crouch, left arm remaining extended, the right poised just behind it with that lethal set of claws ready to once more gouge steel and rend circuitry. His unorthodox opponent has proved she has some worth on the field of battle, even if she may have none in the greater sense... but still, it's something. Enough to stay his hand in further confrontations, should they arise. Candy's function may prove worthwhile yet, and there is nothing to be gained in beguiling or tormenting that which has no human emotions.
It's as close to kindness as the masked Spaniard is likely to come. Once the whirr of machinery dies down, he rises smoothly to his feet, breathing a soft sigh and reaching up to remove the mask. His fingers hesitate over the rim, gripping, then releasing. The hand lowers, and Balrog slips, slinks, /slithers/ forward into the gloom, eyes bright and hunting. Masters' Neo League matches cannot truly be projected live - even if they are, there must be tapes for backup and DVD licensing purposes. He can stand to gain something further from this.
Within minutes, all is silent in the derelict cathedral.
Log created on 15:28:34 10/17/2008 by Candy, and last modified on 18:01:32 10/19/2008.