Description: 'R' Secretary Vice clashes with 'R' boxer and pain in the ass Alan R.B. and underaged partner Kurenai in a battle intended to revitalize an ailing economy! Vice, of course, just takes it as an excuse to destroy things at random. (Winners: Alan and Kurenai)
COMBATSYS: Kurenai has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Vice 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Alan
> //////////////////////////////]
|-------\-------\0 Kurenai
'R' ORGANIZATION HEADQUARTERS
SEVERAL DAYS AGO
Following the receipt of her SNF invitation and match breakdown, Vice did fellow 'R' member Alan R.B. the courtesy of being absolutely certain he was up to date on the goings on by handing her invitation over to him once she was done with it.
She delivered it by affixing it to his door with a knife.
The knife was pretty bloody; it actually made the missive kind of difficult to read, more than likely. Also, it's jabbed like /right through/ Alan's name.
METRO CITY MALL
TODAY
An area of the mall's food court has been cordoned off to be used as a fighting arena; hard plastic barricades are being used to keep onlookers nice and separated from the action, and several actual security guards are in place around the perimeter, just to be extra sure. The only ones allowed inside, other than the competitors, are a few camera men, all of whom have probably signed waivers, just to be on the safe side.
Most of the eating establishments set up around the food court are caught within this makeshift arena; stack upon stack of utensils, plates, and food items are lined up on every counter, as well as on some of the tables scattered throughout the fighting grounds. Speaking of tables: there are actually more in here than there probably should be, and the same is true of chairs.
A local Genhanten franchise has even graciously opened its kitchen up for use, just in case; accordingly, there are monitors set up for the crowd, just in case.
Vice, one of the three competitors, is streaked here and there with red; this is pretty much normal for her. What /isn't/ is the fact that it's mostly actually pretty edible, as it's the result of harassing a Hotdog on a Stick clerk to hurry up with her pre-fight meal so hard that he fainted and inadvertantly sprayed ketchup all over her.
So it's maybe a 70-30 ketchup-blood split.
She's eating, still, down to the last bites; she's pretty much been giving the Eye to the other two, the cameramen, really, whomever all the while, taking her sweet time in finishing up and occasionally dragging the hotdog through some daub of red or another on her clothing.
If she's ever offput by getting the 'wrong' daub, it does not show.
'R' ORGANIZATION HEADQUARTERS
SEVERAL DAYS AGO
Alan R. B. looks at an invitation on his door, mouth pulled into a thin line, sunglasses pushed up on his forehead.
FIVE DAYS AGO
Alan paces in his room. He doesn't leave it.
FOUR DAYS AGO
Alan bangs his head against the wall of his room, repeating, "Damnit. Damnit. Damnit."
TWO DAYS AGO, FRANCE
"...so I'm basically completely screwed," Alan says to the limp form of a man horning in on 'R' business, shaking him. The man chokes off a sob. "She's just going to completely wreck me, and if I actually manage to WIN, then she's gonna get MATURE to help, maaan you are so lucky you aren't me." Alan throws the man over his shoulder - he impacts a telephone pole face-first.
YESTERDAY, 'R' HEADQUARTERS
Alan eats an enormous steak with the attitude of a man on Death Row.
ONE HOUR AGO
Alan calls his mother for the first time in years.
/NOW/
Alan R. B. very carefully doesn't look at Vice, leaning against a plastic table, exchanging banter with a few of his 'fans'. Alan's fans are in fact just huge douchebags - you have to be to honestly like him - and these banter sessions mostly consist of them all saying vile things to each other. Normally, these last three minutes before a fight, and are podcasted. This one has gone twenty minutes. Anything to keep this fight from starting.
"Man I'd come over there and beat you raw if you didn't look like your mom already did it first. How the hell do you look like that, anyway, were you raped as a fetus?" An SNF offical walks up, holding two things: a signed contract and a watch. The blonde boxer looks down at the contract, swallowing heavily. He finally looks over at Vice, who is technically his boss.
Never before has a camera registered Alan's fear. It's a big day.
"Barely-legal partner... huh? Hey, whaddya know, I'm legal!... wait, only in Japan, huh..." The pink-haired girl's face brightens, then falls, as she walks towards Alan, wending her way through crowds of vendors--with a big(ger than usual) crowd at the mall, it's an opportune time to make a sale. And they are--things are flying off the tables. Of course, being a young girl, she's well known here--spends quite a bit of money, though on what, no one could really say for sure. Ninja stuff.
As it so happens, she catches Alan's Face of Fear and thinks it's a pretty good one--lifting her cellphone up, she takes a quick snapshot of it, immortalizing the moment. _Sure_ to be Time Magazine's Picture of the Year, oh yes yes. And then she walks up to him, her weapon still slung across her back, despite what the SNF officials told her. She opens up with a beaming smile and a proclamation, "Hey, apparently I'm legal here! I guess that might make a core group of my fans hang their heads." And it's true--said fans, quite the opposite of those scary tards who count down the days 'til their favorite child actresses are of legal molestable age, do quite the opposite. Still creepy as hell, but... she doesn't deal with them directly. That's what the website is for.
"You look like you think she's gonna kill you," she informs Alan, cheerfully. And of course she probably -is-. There isn't too much known about Vice that is at all relevant to this fight, but Kurenai came away from her careful research with one impression--the woman is vicious. Ah well. Vicious fighters are aplenty in this world. "So," she says--as sheturns to regard Vice, giving a cheery wave to their opponent, "if she does, can I have your stereo?"
Kurenai gives her opponent a sidelong glance then picks up a good, sturdy golf club--a putter--and tests the weight. "Hmm, it'll do for now. You ready?" she asks--not only of Alan, but of Vice as well.
The boxer snatches at the phone after it takes a picture, his hand blurring. Will he get it? Won't he?? The point in this aside quick-pose that doesn't actually break order is, Alan turns after the snatch, plants his hand on the small of Kurenai's back, and shoves her toward Vice. "Sure, I'm ready."
Alan finally looks over at Vice, who is technically his boss.
The corners of Vice's lips turn ever so slowly upwards, pointed like daggers; her lips pull back all the while, exposing teeth that /probably/ have no business being as white as they are, but for Mature's insistences that she take care to keep bits of food and people from sticking to or between them.
Like a lioness eyeing a sweet baby gazelle, she parts her teeth just far enough to allow her tongue to run briskly over their fronts, and then she takes the last remaining bite of her Hot Dog on a Stick; her eyes fix on Alan's for as long as they are able as she chews and swallows.
Rather than leap to the attack, she brings the stick up so that it's reasonably visible to her without having to compromise her predator's gaze... even if Kurenai ends up being forced in the way somewhat.
"Hey," she says lowly to Alan as she uses her thumb nail to flick one of the rounded edges of the stick away so that the jagged remnants can be carefully filed at, "fuck the stipulations. Fuck the officials; kill this broad, and I'll make sure Mature briefs you for a week."
With that, she sends one more fine spray of wood powder away from the stick, then hunches low and lunges for Kurenai, intent on jamming it deep into the side of her neck.
"Think about it."
Alan backs away more after his shove, pulling his fists up, and frowning. Vice's offer is tempting, but... "Man, do you know the win-or-lose purse they're offering me for this fight?" He doesn't mention the even further increased size of the win purse. Money money money makes the world go 'round.
Plus, he thinks, going green, he knows how Mature briefs people. Really, is it /actually/ going to be a good thing, either way?
So, Alan hangs back for now, his guard dropping, arms going slack. As he relaxes, the chi that flows through him all the time intensifies, electricity pillaring and crackling around him. He makes a show of glancing between Kurenai and Vice, as though wrestling with the decision. Secretly, of course, his real goal at this point is to stay as out of the way as possible.
COMBATSYS: Alan gathers his will.
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Vice 0/-------/-------|====---\-------\0 Alan
> //////////////////////////////]
|-------\-------\0 Kurenai
COMBATSYS: Vice successfully hits Kurenai with Medium Strike.
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Vice 0/-------/-------|====---\-------\0 Alan
> /////////////////////// ]
|=====--\-------\0 Kurenai
Of -COURSE- he doesn't get the phone. That is safely tucked away, although she fails to prevent Alan pushing her forward. Even as she's stumbling forward, she's giving Vice an almost amused look. Almost. Because really, the situation -isn't- amusing--it's lethally dangerous. She can't help but form a reply. "Is that supposed to scare me? Any of it? That teeth-licking crap, trying to get him to kill me right here and now? I'm not impressed by the act," she informs Vice.
Then she nearly has her throat torn out via the simple expedient of a corn-dog stick, and that -is- impressive--she doesn't scream, only because air doesn't want to work properly for a few minutes, and she stumbles away, tearing the stick free--gasping raggedly, as the wooden thing scraped against, but did not manage to puncture, her larynx--and she's already bleeding profusely from the wound.
"--gghhh" is what she manages, as she darts backwards, behind Alan, shoving -him- forward in turn. "have fun," she rasps, wondering if Vice will even attack Alan--obviously there's something going on here. Pressing her free hand to the wound, she staunches the bleeding as best as she can, but, if Vice is aware enough to recognize it, she is not cowering in fear or looking outraged--she's actually quite calm, for someone who just got stabbed like that.
COMBATSYS: Kurenai calculates her next move.
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Vice 0/-------/-------|====---\-------\0 Alan
> /////////////////////// ]
|=====--\-------\0 Kurenai
There's a little blood on Vice's hand, after that; she eyes it briefly before flicking her fingers out to cast the crimson pearls away, where they'll probably land on Alan, since /he's/ been pushed forward in Kurenai's stead.
"That, you moronic piece of lolita trash, was business," 'R's one woman crime spree hisses as she reassumes her fighting stance - which really just consists of her hunching down and kind of loosely swaying about the torso.
"When you're lookin' for fun things to do with that new opening, when you think back on how you got it, /that/ might scare you," she adds. It's actually rather even and matter-of-fact, lacking any overt air of menance; it's simply /true/, so far as she's concerned. "Or not; it's no skin off /me/."
Rather than occupy herself with Alan - who gets a brief smirk and a moment of eye contact - she rushes right /past/ him, going from zero to freight train and drawing her right hand back behind her head. She will, once close enough, snag Kurenai about the throat, even as she tries to staunch the flow of blood... and then she'll keep right on running, shoving the ninjette to the ground to be dragged along with her.
Only upon reaching the counter of that Genhanten will she bring Kurenai back up again, simply to fling her over the counter and towards the kitchen area without a care.
Shoving Alan right now feels like giving Blanka a handjob - electricity jumps up both of Kurenai's arms, rattling right to her teeth, combines with a peculiar feeling of carnal shame - like you've done an act anathema to the eyes of God himself.
OK, maybe not /that/ much like giving Blanka a handjob.
The boxer glides forward bonelessly on Kurenai's momentum, still DBZing it up, right up until Vice charges. Then he blurs, /flickering/ over far to the right, hands crossed up as though expecting Vice to be coming at him. Pure relief etches on Alan's face as he stands up, reaches into his pocket, and produces a gold-and-onyx case. "Nah, I'm good, I think." He snaps it open, pulls out a black cigarette with gold filtering, and lights it with a snap of his fingers.
He takes a long drag. "Ahh, now that's good stuff. Way better than being suplexed into a chinese food place." It looks like he's totally willing to just chill there for the rest of the fight.
A man in a suit with the SNF badge on his collar steps up then, leaning forward and muttering into Alan's ear.
You can almost see the dollar signs spring up into his eyes.
"Congratulations, baldy, you just found the point at which my self-preservation instincts stop kicking in." With a sneer, he shoves away from the barricade, hands in pockets, strolling casually to a table laden with products. He sticks his hand in, rummaging around, producing a large towel. "Oh boy, a ShamWow! Did you know that this thing can hold like five times its weight in liquid?" Alan blurs again, crossing the entire field to jump behind a Taco Bell, vanishing into the back. Water runs.
A few moments later, a completely soaked ShamWow! comes soaring out, spiralling toward Vice's head. "It's made in Germany!" he calls after.
COMBATSYS: Kurenai blocks Vice's Gore Fest.
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Vice 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Alan
> //////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Kurenai
"_Oh_, _business_, gotcha. Well, sorry. You're not scary to me," she informs Vice, as pleasantly as she can with her voicebox still roughed up--and her hands tingling like whoa. The ninja is okay with chi manip, enough to not get hurt by that, but... whoa. She shrugs a little--wasn't expecting, given the opening, that Vice -would- go after Alan. "Sure, you're hopped up on PCP and you'd probably kill me in a dark alley, but that's not really a super-scary prospect, now is it?" Because duh, who walks into dark alleys alone? Already she's taking Vice's measure--strong, fast, vicious. Talented in her own way. Not a foe that Kurenai really has a chance of fighting--maybe if she wasn't partnered with--no, wait, there he goes. Sort of.
Of course, Kurenai is making this observance as she's flying through the air--she didn't bother trying to get out of Vice's way, just prepared herself for landing, rolling herself over the table to absorb the impact, tucking into a ball and coming up on her feet, somehow. Scary. There are values of scary--and while Vice doesn't trigger Kurenai's terror meter, she -is- extremely wary of the woman. She gestures; a metallic half-disk appears in her hand, hollowed out, the edge gleaming bright silver--and she hurls it at Vice's face.
Of course, even if she manages to hit, slicing a woman's face isn't the best of things to do, but... it's not like Vice could get any more deranged... ... right?
COMBATSYS: Vice endures Alan's Thrown Weapon.
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Vice 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Alan
> //////////////////// ]
|=======\-------\0 Kurenai
COMBATSYS: Vice interrupts Thrown Weapon from Kurenai with Nail Bomb.
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Vice 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Alan
> ///////////// ]
|=======\====---\1 Kurenai
"Not /now/ I'm not; I promised Mature I'd wait before gettin' into anything," Vice calls out into the kitchen as she leans forward on the counter. "Professionalism, or somethin', I wasn't /really/ listening. You wanna come with? First bump's fr--rrrrr..."
Vice's head turns towards Alan and his best Vince impersonation as that little growl rumbles deep within her throat; though her eyes do narrow on him and she contemplates heading him off... it's a goddamn towel. She'll live; she doesn't pay it much further mind, and even as the heavy, sopping orange object smacks against the back of her head, she's leaping over the counter to pursue Kurenai, just as her disc weapon is procured.
Though she's definitely the powerhouse of Rugal Bernstein's administrative assistant duo, she's pretty quick in her own right, too; this is put on display when she lunges to jam the heel of her hand against Kurenai's wrist just before the weapon can actually be thrown, and while the process of getting a good grip of /both/ wrists to prevent this assault means that she sustains a few shallow cuts... it's an acceptible sacrifice. The ShamWow smacks against the back of her head with a wet *splutch* that pushes her a bit nearer to Kurenai as she struggles for control; this provides the ninja with a slightly better view of the wicked smile that crosses Vice's lips once she feels confident of this control.
"So like I was sayin'," she hisses before throwing a knee into Kurenai's gut to double her over to be more easily wrenched up overhead by her waist, "just lemme know, if you wanna come with."
She sprints a few feet forward, into the kitchen, and once there, she slams the ninja back and head and shoulders first into one of the prep stations; it's smashed instantly. The impact and the pillar of purple chi that rises from it are likely responsible.
"Weapons, weapons, weapons..." she mumbles to herself after releasing Kurenai and strolling through the kitchen. "Where--oh."
A drawer is yanked open. A spare chef's knife that reflects her towel-lined expression of glee is retrieved.
"Correction: if you can /walk/ after this, lemme know..."
Alan frowns out from within the kitchen, giving an exaggerated wince when he looks just in time to see Vice smash Kurenai around the Genhaten. "Ooooh, you're knockin' the Pu Pu Platter out of her. This isn't a Triple Delight at all!" When Vice busts the /knife/ out, Alan swallows hard. He doesn't need or want to see what might happen next.
Alan hops over the Taco Bell counter, landing in a crouch with one foot against the counter itself. He plants both hands on the ground, winds up... and kicks off, blurring across the width of the court, leaving electrical crackles around the counter and all tables he bounces off of.
The boxer enters the back of the chinese place with authority, doing a crouching slide right up to the counter, planting his hands on it and flipping in. "Hey, hey, this is /family programming,/ Vice," Alan quips, as he flies over the both of them to land feet-first on a wall. Later, during the SNF recaps, this comment is highlighted as HYPOCRISY OF THE WEEK/MONTH/YEAR. As the boxer drops, he straightens one leg out, spinning as he drops to aim one heel at Vice's outstretched elbow - three times. "Ring! Of! Thunder!"
Kurenai, analyzing Vice on a purely technical level, would have very little to say about her fighting, at least on a critical level. On a personal level, she can admire the dishing of carnage, even when it's upon herself--again, purely analytically. However, she really doesn't like actually experiencing it--and oh boy, is she experiencing it--so when she's kneed, and piledriven into the flooring, she very seriously, if briefly, considers just staying there. It's plainly obvious that the first few seconds of the fight have, pretty much, set the tone for the rest of it--and it seems obvious to her that, no matter what sort of price point the SNF organizer put to Alan, it won't be enough to save this fight. She isn't entirely sure that, once she's out of the picture, they'll even continue to fight. And then her sensei's face floats through her vision... and she sighs. "Damn you, old man," she mutters, before pulling herself to her feet. Just in time to see Vice with the knife--and Alan performing some attack sequence. ... kicking? Isn't he a boxer? Oh well.
It's hardly relevant to what Kurenai does now--as she finds her own chef's knife, a long, wicked turkey-carving knife. It isn't -exactly- the kind of weapon she's trained with... but it'll do for this purpose, at least.
Because, despite all her instincts telling her to -stay the fuck down you dumb bitch-, she's charging at Vice, yelling a wordless challenge, and--slashing and kicking and elbow-punching, a furious combination of strikes, her makeshift weapon flaring with pink-white chi--she attempts to finish the combination of attacks out with a sweeping uppercut slash with the knife, not quite the usual ender but it'll do...
COMBATSYS: Kurenai successfully hits Vice with Devil Dancing.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/--=====|===----\-------\0 Alan
> ///////////// ]
|==-----\-------\0 Kurenai
COMBATSYS: Vice dodges Alan's Ring of Thunder.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/--=====|===----\-------\0 Alan
> ///////////// ]
|==-----\-------\0 Kurenai
Caught between two fighters coming at her from two angles with two /very/ different attacks, Vice is left to make a choice, and this time, something like self-preservation wins out; she leaps away from Alan and towards what she is so far taking to be the undeniable lesser of the two threats present, willing to take her chances with either findind a way around her flurry of chi-infused strikes or enduring them.
Several seconds later, she is plastered against a walk in freezer door, sliding slowly down to her feet and opting to let the stainless steel keep her upright for a few seconds while she blinks spots out of her eyes. There's blood streaming from a few cuts on her arms and stomach, and most dramatically, in a torrent from her nose.
This last, she deals with by moving her empty hand up through the crimson tide to spread it ever so slowly across her face in thin streaks; through the cracks of her fingers, as her eyes come to be more and more concealed by her hand, her gaze shifts between Alan and Kurenai, Kurenai and Alan... and then it just sits on Kurenai, whose stock has risen a few considerable notches in these last few moments.
Shortly afterwards, once she's collected herself in her way, the Hakkesshu assassin drops her blood-stained hand; her skirt swirls dramatically around her body as she both spins and lunges towards Kurenai, seeking to seize the girl by the throat so that she can be held fast as, "Like the technique, teenage trash or not," is raspily said.
Should she manage to maintain any kind of grip, she will then flip the knife around so that it's gripped in underhanded fashion, and after adding, "You wanna compare?" she'll slice across Kurenai's stomach in one smooth motion. It lacks the finesse and technicality of the ninja's approach, to be sure, but that isn't exactly Vice's style /anyway/.
A harshly mirthful, "God, I love the SNF," will finish her thoughts, should this, too, be successful.
Alan's heel slams futilely into the floor after the third missed spin, sending out an electric shockwave. "Tch!" He levers himself forward on that foot, springing ahead after Vice, hand dancing along the various hung utensils until he plucks out a large wok. "Oh, see, now this is just insulting." He sneers. "The kid can't be /that/ fun." With a backhanded motion, Alan flips the wok behind his back, up over his left shoulder, catching it and flipping it for Vice's head.
He doesn't leave it at that, however, dashing after it, metal clanging as he punches at it with his ring-clad right hand, slamming it at Vice's head. Then he follows it up with the left... and the right again, unloading a rapid series of jabs at the inner surface of the wok while the outer presses against his boss's face. His arms flicker in the air. "I mean, come /on/, you don't even look mad about that, you know I'm nothin' to laugh at! Get fired up!" It occurs to him that he's hit the point of no return, anyway - if he doesn't distract Vice off Kurenai before she manages to finish the kid off, then... well, one-on-one with Vice is not exactly a dream of his.
COMBATSYS: Kurenai dodges Vice's Power Strike.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/--=====|===----\-------\0 Alan
> ///////////// ]
|==-----\-------\0 Kurenai
The compliment, from anyone else, at any other time, would probably draw a bit of 'aw-shucks' or a blush of embarrassment from Kurenai. In the current context she gets the compliment in, she just... nods. Because, well, what's she going to say? The woman's out to kill her. This is, without a doubt, the most dangerous SNF Kurenai's ever seen. She actually kind of appreciates that, a little. This ain't no playfighting, joke weapons aside.
When Vice rushes her, Kurenai stands her ground for as long as she can--and then she fades away from Vice's grip, turning a swayback lean into a full cartwheel flip--which, incidentally, might just bring her boot toes up into Vice's chin. It'd be a weak impact, if anything, but what the pink-hair is betting on is for Vice to not expect this particular form of attack--it certainly isn't anything that is really normal to how Kurenai usually fights.
She's breathing hard, though, knowing that if she lets Vice hit her again... well, that's probably it for her. Maybe for good... although she doubts the SNF folks would let Vice kill someone on-camera. She hopes, anyway.
COMBATSYS: Vice Toughs Out Kurenai's Light Kick!
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/-======|===----\-------\0 Alan
> ///////////// ]
|==-----\-------\0 Kurenai
COMBATSYS: Vice blocks Alan's Medium Strike.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/-======|===----\-------\0 Alan
> ///////////// ]
|==-----\-------\0 Kurenai
The second she's recovered from her chin being tilted upwards by the point of Kurenai's shoe, Vice's vision is obscured by seasoned and well-worn cast iron. Her ears will probably be ringing for hours after this is all over, no matter /how/ many illegal drugs or 'R' interns are consumed in her post-fight celebration.
After just a few jabs, Vice's face is revealed, courtesy of her snatching one of Alan's hands to stop him mid-punch and a quick toss of the head that sends the wok clattering to the ground..
She is smiling.
It is less of a 'happy friendly' smile and more of a 'horrifyingly fiendish' smile.
"You're /right/," she rasps. "We're friends, right? I shouldn'ta been ignorin' you." She takes a step closer to Alan as her edges begin to go a bit wavery due to being aglow; the wretched energies that pump through her veins are rising to the surface as purple chi that casts an aggressively unnatural light across her features.
"Nothin' personal; she was /new/, is all. Couldn't help wantin' a taste'a fresh meat." She punctuates this by releasing Alan's wrist, and then in the next moment she steps into him with an upwards thrusting palm strike.
"Whaddya say--you forgive me?" she wonders as she moves.
COMBATSYS: Vice successfully hits Alan with Withering Atlas.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/----===|=======\====---\1 Alan
> ///////////// ]
|==-----\-------\0 Kurenai
Following that blow meant to stagger the lightning-infused brawler, the blurring around Vice intensifies to the point where she's more like a streak of red and gray than a (psychotic) woman; she seizes Alan about the waist, wrenches him up high, and slams him to the kitchen floor with a powerbomb so fierce that the impact of his back and shoulders with the tiles shatters the latter immediately.
"You wanna plug anything /now/?!" she wonders in the split-second of nothingness that follows.
And then she raises him, runs a few steps forward, and does the same with a rack of dry ingredients; noodles, rice and seasonings go flying /everywhere/.
"No? /No/?"
Alan is raised one more time, and after being slammed into a stove with such ferocity that a pillar of chi rises around the two, he is released.
The chi has the distinct image of a skull in it, identical from every angle.
The Hakkesshu assassin crouches, then stretches herself out alongside Alan, there in the cratered stove. "You shoulda taken /my/ offer; get up and try again," she hisses into his ear before pulling herself upright and stalking backwards to put some space between she and him.
Alan has a split second to dodge away once Vice lets him go - and he tries to take it, his legs blurring as he swings them forward to jump back. Unfortunately, things don't go so well, Vice's palm strike folding him up, knocking his sunglasses of his face to go spinning forward, his cigarette likewise flipping end-over-end right for Kurenai's... face, she's a little Japanese girl, she doesn't have cleavage to bring this to the next comedy level.
Every time Alan is slammed into something, its accompanied with a pained, horrible sounding "Huuaaaacht!", something flying off of him each time. With the first slam, his vest buttons snap, hanging open. On the second slam, the contents of his pockets scatter, throwing change, his cigarette case, a thin black lighter, and a hearty billfold across the floor. On the third slam, the pillar of chi plucks and tears at his clothes, obliterating some of the buttons of the blue shirt under his vest, fraying everything, exposing some lean muscle for the ladies.
He draws a single shuddering breath, spine bent dangerously over the stove, lifting one shaking finger.
"If the floor, ingredient rack, and this stove had Impact Gel(tm) mats on them, the last ten seconds would have been far less painful." He braces his elbows and shoves himself off, breathing heavily, and limps a few steps to his billfold, stomping the ground next to it. A shockwave of chi flings it improbably upward, and he catches and stuffs his precious money back in his pocket. He shrugs his shoulders, shakes his head, and pulls his fists back up.
The 'R' boxer springs forward at the 'R' secretary, chi spiraling down his arms into his hands. He smacks his fists together just in front of Vice's face, electricity springing out with a concussive blast of thunder. "Crash!" He springs back after, going on the defensive.
It's actually kind of impressive, the way Alan bounces back after that witheringly painful looking technique of Vice's. She's got to say--she's revising her opinions of these two already. Not that they'd care. She's at least 97% certain they don't honestly give a shit. But she has to note it, all the same. Alan just took... well, Kurenai knows. Is there even a snowball's chance in hell of winning this fight? Don't know, she tells herself. Too many variables. But.. gotta try.
Discarding the kitchen knife, Kurenai looks over at... -sporting goods-. Excellent. She darts over to a rack of sports equipment and selects... a good old fashioned Louisville Slugger, one hundred percent treated ash. She even, inspired by Alan, turns to a camera. "When you want something that'll entertain Junior and have a damn good chance at bashing an intruder's head in, always go with the one and only Louisville Slugger! Here--" and now she turns towards Vice.
"LET ME SHOW YOU!" she shouts, as she leaps to the attack, bringing the bat around in a backhand swing--quite impressive as she' still off the ground, basically, if only by a foot or two--aiming for Vice's head--and intending to follow up with a neat little midair twist and overhead smash, before she lands.
COMBATSYS: Vice blocks Kurenai's Demon's Charge.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/---====|=======\====---\1 Alan
> //////////// ]
|=------\-------\0 Kurenai
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Vice with Thunderclap.
[ \\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/-======|=======\======-\1 Alan
> //////////// ]
|=------\-------\0 Kurenai
"Oh, fuck," Vice mutters as both Kurenai and Alan plug from the camera. "I gave you /brain damage/."
She doesn't sound /concerned/ about this, of course, so much as just filing it away for future reference; Alan might come out of her paycheck a little, but oh well.
After her head is turned by the backhanded bat strike, she catches the follow-up blow with her forearm and swings the limb in an upward arc to disengage herself from Kurenai. Before she can pursue, however, she's being blown out of the kitchen by chi compressed and manipulated to the point of being a deafening burst; a table is crushed beneath her. Trays and napkins and condiments intended for use during the fight go flying.
A camera man tries to stick close to her as she slowly rises and stalks back to the kitchen; he ends up being shoved onto his back for his troubles.
COMBATSYS: Vice gains composure.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/---====|=======\======-\1 Alan
> //////////// ]
|=------\-------\0 Kurenai
Alan flows smoothly into his next move, planting his feet and lifting both his arms, seriously pointed into fingerguns. More chi crackles up his body, electricity spiraling down his arms, pooling into two small orbs between each middle finger and thumb. He gets out of the tight chinese food place, jumping out onto the counter and taking several steps away from it, staying oriented on Vice with an easy smirk on his face.
"Hey, Japanese broad who doesn't have big enough tits yet for me to remember your name." Alan lifts his hands, pumps his arms like some kind of badass shotgun maneuver, and points them again. "Move your undeveloped ass a bit to the left and drink some milk, couldya?" Whether or not she actually listens (she should), Alan snaps his fingers.
Thunder cracks out, a big writhing bolt of lightning crossing between Alan and Vice. "Thunder..." The boxer does it three more times, left-right-left, three more bolts jumping out, lights in the area flickering, the force knocking anything metallic away from the immediate arc. "STOOOOOOORM!"
It's a little tempting to sit back and relax, let Alan take the brunt--he's doing a great job of beating up on the secretary. But that might just earn her more of Vice's wrath. Best to keep attacking--that'll earn more wrath too, but, in the end, shortening Vice's conscious time is probably a healthier alternative. She lands from the blocked followup with a deceptively light touch--she's trying to cover just how hurt she really is. (Even though she's bled profusely already.)
Alan is... bringing what looks to be an awful amount of potential pain, right in there, and that's certainly not something Kurenai wants to get into the middle of. So she does what any sensible person might do--she scoops up a couple of canisters of 'Quick-Lite', what apparently is a 'new formula' of charcoal starter fluid... and she hurls them into the mix.
Maybe she's hoping they'll burst open, go up in flame, and douse poor Vice--maybe she just wants to hear the clunk of liquid-filled metal on skull. She pitches twice, the cans spinning lazily as they trace their semiparabolic arc out towards the 'R' secretary.
COMBATSYS: Alan successfully hits Vice with Thunder Storm.
[ \\\\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Alan
> //////////// ]
|=------\-------\0 Kurenai
COMBATSYS: Kurenai successfully hits Vice with Thrown Weapon.
[ \\\\\\ < > /////////////// ]
Vice 0/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Alan
> //////////// ]
|=------\-------\0 Kurenai
Vice does, in fact, go up in flames; lightning chi plus gasoline, after all. It's science, even if there's a healthy dose of mysticism involved. This will even be enough to put her down, just... not quite yet. It begins with little flames licking over the surface of her prone and fuel-drenched form, progressing to a loud *FWOOSH* as her clothes, then body all ignite fully when she begins to stagger to her feet.
She /tries/ to speak, but what actually comes out is wordless, pained and perhaps amused groaning; it helps complete her current flaming butch secretary zombie image as she shambles towards the Genhanten and its kitchen.
Only once she's within leaping distance of Kurenai will her speed increase any, so that she can try to pin the ninja beneath her burning body and shred at already injured throat with entirely too sharp fingernails; whether she succeeds or not, though, she will wind up collapsing afterwards, exhausted and in need of some combination of bed rest, Mature's attentions and drugs.
Also, maybe, a fire extinguisher; the SNF staff can provide that much, at least.
COMBATSYS: Vice can no longer fight.
> /////////////// ]
|======-\-------\0 Alan
> //////////// ]
|=------\-------\0 Kurenai
COMBATSYS: Vice successfully hits Kurenai with Death Blow.
> /////////////// ]
|======-\-------\0 Alan
> //// ]
|=======\-------\1 Kurenai
"HGHHHK--!!" is Kurenai's response, pretty much; she wasn't expecting that to work so well, and she wasn't expecting Vice to move so well, especially being, you know, ON FIRE. When she's knocked down, she instinctively curls up, going into a fetal position--protecitng the damaged parts of her throat at the cost of taking slashing attacks across her face and the sides of her neck, which do little to make her feel at all better--but at least she doesn't get her voicebox torn out.
After that,she barely manages to get away from Vice, making it halfway up to one knee--before falling face forward, landing in a bright patch of linoleum which is quickly stained red with her blood. Fortunately the SNF medics are as prompt as always, hualing the girl off rather unceremoniously.
COMBATSYS: Kurenai takes no action.
> /////////////// ]
|======-\-------\0 Alan
COMBATSYS: Kurenai can no longer fight.
> /////////////// ]
|======-\-------\0 Alan
Alan remains standing enough to be **DRAMATIC**, lifting both arms and slashing them to the side. Two arcs of excess electricity bleed off into the air.
The boxer shakes his head again, clearing the vision still blurred from his one tremendous hit, and looks to his side. A man with a fire extinguisher stands there, looking uncertain. "Well, good job, flat girl, you maybe managed not to die." While simultaneously managing to get beaten out of the fight, so Alan doesn't have to turn on her to save face. He reaches over to the man, planting a hand on his shoulder, and shoving him at the flaming Vice. "Yeaaah, could you put her out, tubby?" The man is not fat. "I kinda gotta go..."
Alan's already edging away. "I gotta vacuum my... fish." Shoving his hands in his pockets, whistling, Alan practically skips away in his haste to get out of there before Vice recovers - he's seen the secretaries basically Undertaker back up from getting hit by buses and shit, she'll probably be awake and violent in like ten minutes.
COMBATSYS: Alan has ended the fight here.
Log created on 17:17:30 01/16/2010 by Vice, and last modified on 13:50:13 01/23/2010.