Description: There's only room in SNF for one Contender's Belt Title Holder, and who better to fight over it than two well known smart alecks? On the dance floor of The Pond, Ayame and Alan exchange attacks and old school disses as they try to find out if words really can hurt?? ( Winner:Ayame )
The Duck Pond may be Alan's favorite place to fight. The music is jumpin', the drinks flow practically from the tap to the mouth, and the crowd is /always/ into it.
Sometimes, they're even on Alan's side.
The announcer's voice cracks out over the music which they refuse to turn down, and Alan turns away from the bar. "Oh man, look at the time. Sorry, ladies!" Women who are definitely after his money do their best impression of disappointment as he withdraws, making sure to grab at least one breast and slap one ass before filtering through the crowd toward the ring. After he's gone, one of the girls pulls out the wad of cash she picked from his pocket, while they all talk about what an total dick he was.
The boxer puts one hand on the divider keeping the fights coralled, and flips over easily, landing, throwing a few shadowboxing jabs, and quick-stepping left and right. His body relaxes after the token warm-up, electricity sizzling across his skin. "Alright! Where's that barely legal drink of water, I've got money to make!" In a prepared motion, he flicks his left wrist, a black-and-gold cigarette sliding into his hand. He pops it in his mouth, snapping his fingers to light it in a crack of chi. "Put that picture of me away, let's get this going!"
It was only a matter of time before she'd take a stab at it, literally and figuratively. Years of watching the fame and recognition that comes with being a title holder in the biggest venue in the world if competative fighting and Ayame had never thought to step up and claim it herself.
The teenaged fighter didn't mesh well with the Pond's populace, leaning against a far wall, arms folded over a metal staff that reaches about a foot higher than the top of her head. The focus of her attention was the boxer at the bar. He seemed happy enough - to be enjoying himself in the company of fine ladies that showered him with undue attention. She on the other hand looks bored, as if counting the minutes to when the real action would get started.
It's only when the American pulls himself from the bar scene and kicks over the cordoned off divider that she makes her own move. Pushing off from the wall, she spins the staff up under one arm as she walks forward patiently calm. Nudging aside a few patrons with the end of the polearm, she vaults herself over the divider to land lightly before rising up to stand straight, brown eyes centered on Alan, her mouth curled into the faintest of smirks. "I see you've freed your schedule up for your regular public humiliation." she notes, spinning the weapon up onto her shoulder.
"It's unfortunate for you that they decided to make this a battle of wits... as only one of us is even armed..." Her right foot slides forward slightly and the staff slides down into the grip of both of her hands. She otherwise seems to not be in a hurry to take any action, perhaps remembering well the kind of speed the boxer exhibited the last time they had the 'pleasure' of beating each other up.
COMBATSYS: Ayame has started a fight here.
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Ayame 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Ayame takes no action.
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Ayame 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Alan has joined the fight here.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Ayame
Alan reaches down to his belt as he spots Ayame, his own mouth shifting into a predatory grin, eyes already travelling. The four fingers on each hand slip into little loops along the front, sliding into the iron rings Alan has affected as a variant on brass knuckles. He pulls away, and the leather loops snap open, leaving the rings securely on Alan's hands. "C'mon now, babe, don't sell yourself short! I'm sure you got just enough wits to know when you're outmatched."
The blonde man has no intention of having a staring contest - he has that crazy speed, and he's willing to use it. Alan ducks low, running in a wide curve toward Ayame's left, leaving a wake of electricity behind him. "But you know me, I just can't sleep at night without my regular public humiliation." Suddenly, he pitches sharply to his own left, crossing to Ayame's opposite side in a flicker of movement. "So when I'm done giving you this public humiliation, you wanna head up to the VIP lounge and try out some private? Oh wait - my bad, you must have this much style to enter." With his left hand, Alan indicates something just about waist height.
His right hand, however, is busy snapping out at Ayame's cheekbone, trailing sparks!
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Ayame with Light Punch.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Ayame
"Please," the strawberry-blonde shrugs slightly, "There's already enough people in this world that hate you - don't have to work so hard to add one more." He moves across the dance floor like a boxer charging along an electric wire, leaving a swath of surplus energy in his wake - evidence of the unnatural affinity the brawler has for that shocking element.
Ayame follows the initial charge readily enough - but it's when he pitches sharply at the last moment that he catches a gap in her defenses, his chi-covered fist catching the girl on her cheek, sending her reeling slightly and leaving small marks where the rings scraped in passing. "It's a shame," she muses, Shaking her head quickly to clear her head, she spins in closer, whipping the metal shaft up over her head before bringing it crashing down at a sharp angle for the boxer's shoulder. "That idiocy isn't painful."
A second swing follows as she whips around one more time, skirt flaring and the other end of the staff swinging around from the opposite angle to provide her with a wide striking angle. "Would save me the trouble of having to hurt you myself!"
COMBATSYS: Alan dodges Ayame's Random Strike.
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Alan 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Ayame
Alan's grown wary of that staff from previous fights. After the punch, he immediately gets some distance, scooting back. The staff swishes down just in front of his face, causing his shades to slide down his nose just a little. His eyes! They are so cocky! When the staff comes around for more, Alan drops back, going down to his knees, limboing under the staff. "Huh."
He rolls forward, trying to come up behind Ayame. "Looks like you're doing a great job saving /yourself/ the trouble!" It's always hard for Alan to fight someone with a long weapon - he has to stay either extremely close or extremely far, neither of which are really his favorites. He prefers a skirmish with an unarmed foe, staying just out of their punching range, using his speed to dart in and out. Not that easy with a big-ass stick.
One crackling arm swoops over, trying to catch the markedly shorter Ayame under the chin and lift her up in a hanging chokehold, the other arm trapping her under the shoulder. Electricity crackles around him. "Don't get me wrong, I love it when a girl does all my work for me. But you can barely work the stick you got now, I hate to think how clumsy you are with other peoples'!"
COMBATSYS: Ayame blocks Alan's Dynamo Grip.
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Alan 0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0 Ayame
As she steps out of her spin, her long hair catching up a split second later, she's quite aware that she didn't get the satisfying crunch of solid contact with the distressingly fast boxer. Her stance is corrected in one fluid motion, her weapon brought back up at a defensive angle, the upper end further out than the lower end as to make closing distance a bit more tricky for an opponent.
Only he isn't even in front of her anymore. She's only just starting to glance over her shoulder when his arm comes up and over in a bid to seize hold against her neck. Releasing her staff with her right hand, her left hand twists the pole in against her chest so that he ends up catching that in his grip instead of getting a tight chokehold as intended. But that doesn't leave her free of the energy coursing over his muscular arms and fighting against the jarring jolt with her own aura taxes the fighter more than she wants to let on.
"I'm glad you want to get closer to me," she grunts, lifting up her right foot and jamming it down hard in an attempt to slam her heel into his foot. "But today isn't your day." Her right hand, free of her staff, slips past one of her belts, coming away with a butterfly knife that flashes open in a flick of her wrist as the teenaged rogue aims to stab backward and catch Alan in the stomach or thigh if he isn't fast to escape the blade. Pushing up with her staff to pry herself free, she finishes with a low, one-handed sweep with the long weapon, trying to clip Alan's ankles in the process. "I really think I'd enjoy the pleasure of your absense. Let's cut this get together short."
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Alan with Assault and Battery.
- Power hit! -
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Alan 0/-------/--=====|===----\-------\0 Ayame
Alan hisses in Ayame's ear, "It's always my day." But before anything else happens, if it was going to, Ayame's heel pounds into the rrrrrrrich Corrrrinthian leather of Alan's boot. He's more angry about the damage to the boot than the pain that shoots up his leg, loosening his grip just as planned. Ayame whirls around on him, and Alan - with dangersense honed in many drug'n'gun deals gone bad - spies the knife just in time. He disengages completely, pounding the heel of his hand down, diverting the stabbing knife from his finely-crafted abs to his finely-crafted thigh. "Shhhit!"
The knife in his leg is extremely distracting! So much so that he has little to no defense against Ayame's final sweep, which picks him right up off his feet and deposits him on the floor. His head cracks against it. "Nothin's short around here 'cept you," he drawls, briefly scrambled by his impact. He wheels his legs, coming up in a kneel, yanking the knife out of his leg and sending it skittering away. Red blood completely ruins his expensive pants. He hauls himself the rest of the way back to his feet, and approaches at a relatively slower pace - which is to say closer to a regular person's dead run instead of some kind of zwee-fight. He favors his leg as he halts, sways, coils, and explodes forward. Electricity sprays out behind him as he slams the last couple of feet, his left hand pounding at Ayame's stomach.
COMBATSYS: Ayame interrupts Body Blow from Alan with Harvest's Reaper.
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Alan 1/-----==/=======|======-\-------\0 Ayame
Ayame spins out of her staff sweep by ending in half-crouching, defensive posture, only taking the time to rise up to standing when it's clear that an instantenous counter attack isn't enroute just yet. "So you claim," she replies, eyebrows lighting slightly in a show of some overt doubt, mouth curled into a knowing grin. He's every bit the challenge she expected of him from their prior encounters. Keeping up with him requires more than skill and precision - it takes a bit of luck and intuition to stay one step ahead of that impossibly fast speed. But the look in her eyes suggests that she feels she's up to the task.
Her stance relaxes slightly, one hand going up to her collar to straighten her loosely tied crimson colored tie. "I would love to insult you further, but you really aren't up to the task of understanding." She responds as he moves in again, her relaxed posture giving way to a tight stance, her right shoulder forward, her hands tightning on her staff. "And I would try to explain it on a level you could follow. But I don't have any crayons with me-!"
She's stalling, waiting until the last possible second to take her own gamble. The energy coursing over his limbs never seems to calm in the slightest. But her own chi comes and goes with precision moments of efficiency - moments she determines will have the greatest impact.
In this case, it is a blood red aura that courses out over her staff at the speed of light. Reading the swing of his fist is hard but she manages just in time, shifting her defensive weapon at just the right moment as to blunt some of the force behind his mighty strike. Even deflected some, it still delivers a crushing impact against the girl's ribs and the breath that escapes her lips from the moment it connects is audible.
But that leaves Alan dangerously close for Ayame's calculated retaliation. It comes in the form of an upward swing of the low end of her chi-infused staff into his side, striking with enough force to buy her space to spin around and bring it in for a second swing - this time the chi on the weapon has concentrated into the form of a vorpal edged scythe-shaped blade of focused energy, causing the second impact to be more of a slashing strike than a staff-like bash.
Ayame's motion capitalizes fluidly on her momentum as she follows the strike with a forward flip through the air, delivering one final smack to the back of Alan's head before she lands in a sliding stop on the other side of the American, her staff held out to her side. The chi on the surface seems to congeal near the base of it, forming almost fluid-like drops of dimming energy that vanish before ever quite reaching the dance room floor. She opens her mouth to follow up, but a cough comes instead, as the full weight of Alan's chi-infused punch finally registers.
Ayame clears her throat, spinning up to standing in such a way that she's facing Alan again as the last of the chi on her staff fades. "Thinking isn't your strong point, is it. You lean so heavily on that speed; confident that no one will see through it eventually..."
Even as the sliding punch connects, Alan is getting ready for something else, his other hand /powering up./ "You're not even trying anymore! You're just grabbing at low hanging FRUIT--" His hand is already streaking forward, a simple blur, his left pulling back and diving in just behind.
But Ayame's seen through the ploy like some kind of analyzer, and his fist regains full visibility for just an instant before he slides back from Ayame's first impact. "Hnncht!"
The blade of the 'scythe' goes across Alan's chest, neatly slicing through vest and shirt, revealing his toned chest and abs and ALSO LOTS OF BLOOD. Smacked in the back of the head while he's still reeling from /that/, he's sent staggering forward, smashing his forehead on the divider, and dropping to a knee.
Something in Alan's priorities shift as he pushes back to his feet, shrugging out of his ruined outfit, tossing it aside. A little blood runs down the back of his head from the earlier impact. Turning, he reveals that more is steadily dripping from the surprisingly shallow wound on his chest, and yet more from his forehead, fouling the lightning bolt in his hair. Alan gathers electricity in one hand, and sweeps it back. The styled bolt is gone. Alan spits his cigarette out, and pushes his shades up. "Yeah, yeah... what can I say? When it works, it works." Alan comes on again, fists up. It's occurring to him that if he loses the belt, he loses the endorsement deals, loses a lot of money in his pocket.
To Alan, nothing could be worse.
"Alright, bitch, you want to talk about crayons? Well, color me mad." Alan snaps out a jab with his left hand, then steps in and goes for a hook to the ribs. "And let's color you beat to hell!" He spins after the hook, both arms whipping out, and he closes them together right in front of Ayame's face. Concussive force roars out when his hands meet, thunder resounding like a sledgehammer.
COMBATSYS: Ayame dodges Alan's Thunderclap.
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Alan 1/----===/=======|======-\-------\0 Ayame
She doesn't pressure him immediately; taking the opporunity to evaluate his condition after being struck by one of her signiture technique. It's managed to drop many fighters in the past and there's no sense charging in for another hit if the boxer isn't going to be able to get steady on his feet after all that. But it seems he's got different ideas as he takes the time to rid himself of what's left of the vest and shirt. "Tsk. There's no beginning to your good taste."
The build up of electricity around the man is palpable. She even lets him pull himself back together, brushing out the bolt from his hair, ditching the cig, adjusting his shades... Maybe it's confidence on her part. Or perhaps she's wary. "I don't know what makes you tick. But I hope it's a time bomb." she remarks idly.
That's before he finally attacks, putting her own evasion to the test with a rapid a jab. She twists around the jab and leans out of the hook. When he twists around for the follow up, she ducks low and springs backward into a roll, hugging her staff horizontally across her stomach as to keep from getting it caught on the floor before she comes up a foot or so away, her hair blown back by the detonation of thunder exploding out from the collision of Alan's fists.
She slides only a little before finding traction at last on the slick dance floor of the Pond. Her expression hovering somewhere between gravely serious and enthralled with the risky danger of the fight, Ayame is back on the offense almost immediately. She never stops moving for a moment then.
As she charges, she stabs out with her staff in a downward angle, targeting the space between Alan's feet as if to draw his attention low long enough for her to twist in along the length of the weapon, her right hand going to her waist as she does so.
A soft click might be the only warning that comes that there's more to her attack than an unfriendly jab as Ayame comes out of the turn whipping a chain belt off from around her waist and cracking it out for Alan's neck in a bid to catch him with it long enough for her to finish closing distance and drive her knee into his stomach and flip him over it to the ground.
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Alan with Random Combo.
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Alan 1/-======/=======|=======\-------\0 Ayame
Alan responds, with rare gravity, "Still waters." His own hair barely moves from the force of the Thunderclap - topless, the best you get is a flapping pants and drops of blood wicking off his skin. Still, he doesn't recover immediately, like his hands are stuck together.
He falls for Ayame's ruse handily, his reflexes too keyed up to let him do anything but spring up, pull his feet together, and land en pointe upon the end of her staff, grinning fiercely and preparing to charge.
He walks right into the chain belt, which wraps around his neck. Tendons tense, and he tries to spring off the staff and wrench it out of her hand, but Ayame gets up to him too quickly. He manages to gurgle, "Already with this? You haven't even handcuffed me to the bed yet." And then whoop! He goes over, and crashes to the ground.
But Alan doesn't stop until he's empty. He barely even slows down, despite the wounds. The crowd has solidly swung over to Ayame's side as the bloodied man brings his legs up and posts to his feet. Then, immediately, he goes into a backflip. Electricity swirls around him, pooling down into his fists. "Come on! Let's just bring everything to the table!" He spins in midair, turning around, and he moves with incredible speed, both hands knitting together into an axehandle.
"MJOLNIR!" He slams out for Ayame's face, though with the wave of electricity and thunder that crashes out, hurling Alan back, you can't really aim it anywhere.
COMBATSYS: Ayame blocks Alan's Mjolnir.
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Alan 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Ayame
The moment she wrenches him over to the ground, Ayame releases her grip on the short chain-whip, having been caught off guard too often by opponents yanking it from her grip preemptively. She's on her best fighting game now even if she can't quite keep up with the boxer in the verbal sparring. No step is wasted, no motion of her body miscalculated; the girl becoming the epitome of efficiency and precision coupled with a duplicitous fighting style that can leave many guessing at what she's trying to do a split second too late.
Her staff is twirled up back to a defensive potion as she readies herself to chase Alan. This time she intends to give no quarter until he stops moving. She understands the threat his electricity represents all too well. As he crashes to the ground, Ayame darts forward, wielding her staff in a position that will let her easily deliver a crushing blow to keep him down.
But he's too quick, kicking to his feet before she can get in position. His backflip takes him right out of the path of a vicious swing of that titanium staff as Ayame pursues trying to land a finishing blow. "Che," she grunts as he takes to the air in a moment of surreal acrobatics and a show of dexterity some might not have so readily credited him with.
"Yes, let's." she replies through gritted teeth. A split second later and she is entirely obscurred from sight by an explosion of electricity that temporarily blinds all who were staring too intently at the fight rather than doing the smart thing and shielding their eyes.
Ayame goes sliding back across the floor, her feet finding no traction as electricity crackles along the length of her staff and forearms. Only by jamming her staff against the wall she nearly collides with does Ayame bring a stop to her recoil, a pained gasp escaping her lips as she reels forward a little on unsteady legs. "Ugh..." Why does she put herself through this kind of pain? There's got to be a better way to achieve fame and fortune!
"Gotta go with where your talents lie, I suppose," she mutters as she pushes off from the wall and steps forward, gribbing her staff tightly near the center of it and begins to spin it swiftly. It starts as a metallic blur with flashes of crackling risidual energy left over from Alan's attack. But it becomes something much more as Ayame pours her own energy into the weapon once again and the shaft begins to hum with a crimson blur.
It builds and builds as Ayame takes a few more careful steps forward, "This is it!" One more step and then she turns, whipping the staff up over her head and then spinning herself into a circle, unleashing all the pent up chi into a large swath of ruby-red energy that explodes across the distance between her and Alan.
COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Alan with Final Sunset.
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Alan 0/-------/=======|-------\-------\0 Ayame
The blast sends Alan whirling back in some kind of ridiculous somersault, and he comes out of it to land ramrod-straight on the ground in the middle of the ring, a final shockwave of electricity travelling out from his feet. He sways, and then gets his fists up.
But it's different. The electricity is practically gone, trying to return in fits and starts. His movements are quick, but not inhumanly so. He has to relax more, but he's too keyed up, his back against the wall (metaphorically). He stretches out the fingers of one hand, then another, teeth gritting as the crowd is going ballistic. They know a fight's climax when they see one.
As Ayame starts building up, Alan remembers how this one goes from a previous fight. He shifts his weight to a back leg, eyes intent, and brings both of his arms to the right, swinging them behind him. He's coiling his body, like a spring, crouching down. His mouth splits into a sharklike grin, daring Ayame to send it at him.
As the red wave comes searing in, Alan whips his arms around as he jumps, his body turning sideways as he rolls through the air, hungry for altitude. It's an incredible show of agility, but after throwing the Mjolnir... the chi isn't there, bolstering him, hurling him farther than he can get on his own.
His bare shoulder clips the wave, and with a gout of blood, he's pulled in, blasted, and hurled back. It crashes him against the divider, and people scatter as it starts to crack. Alan has just enough time, as his shades fall off his face, to point one finger at Ayame, what chi he can muster crackling there in a small ball. Alan snaps his middle finger and thumb, and a bolt of lightning jumps across.
Then the divider gives, and a bloodied boxer slides all the way across the floor, leaving his own trail of red.
COMBATSYS: Alan can no longer fight.
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Ayame 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Ayame with Lightning Strike.
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Ayame 0/-------/------=|
That the fight is taking its toll on Ayame is visible in the way that she stumbles out of the spin, as if the momentum of her staff is pulling her further than she was even ready for. Recovery comes before she can fall, and the teen fighter's attention snaps to the boxer as he makes a daring attempt to leap the wave of chi completely.
Almost... almost but not quite and in this case the narrow difference bewteen success and getting hit is decisive. The energy coursing over her weapon fades rapidly as if she hasn't the strength to keep it going, and the girl stands up straight propped against it for a moment as sharp eyes follow Alan's painful, crashing fall. A confident smirk works its way into her expression and she begins forward quickly, determined to see this through to the end. If he's still moving, then she's going to put a stop to that.
His shades slip and his hand raises, the divider cracking from untold levels of crushing force... and then Ayame is jolted from across the distance by that spark of electricity that just never seems to run dry. It's enough to stop her advance as she recoils from another shock of the boxer's unique chi. "Tch." the girl grunts. /That/ attack again. Recovering and staring over in the direction that Alan fell, holding still for a few moments, her guard still up, she's ready for any more attacks that might come from his direction.
It's only when nothing surfaces that she relaxes, lowering her staff to her side and lifting her right hand to flip some of her hair back over her shoulder before going to rest at her hip. "Sorry about all that. I wasn't being rude. It's just that you don't matter." she finishes with a faint shrug and expression that's just asking to have some teeth knocked out of.
Spinning her staff once more, the weapon collapses back down to its more compact length as Ayame turns, takes in a deep breath, and exhales as the adrenaline of the fight begins to bleed out of her system. "Yeah, this is why I do it." she decides.
The thrill of victory goes a long way to paying for the pain.
COMBATSYS: Ayame has ended the fight here.
Log created on 17:11:09 11/08/2009 by Ayame, and last modified on 23:09:42 11/28/2009.