Description: Because when you think 'Graveyard Battle,' the next obvious step is 'red-skinned oil covered Turk' and not, say, 'dance fight with undead backup singers in memory of Michael Jackson.' (Winners: Farah and Pullum)
The sky is the darkest black, except for the distant, cold, lonely disk of the bone-white moon hanging there, shrouded only in wispy clouds. The sounds of owls, bats, and other night creatures fill the air, which is chill and slightly damp. Spread about the uneven ground are gravestones, almost innumerable ones. They range from simple, lozenge-like 'HERE LIES [NAME]' to large statues of weeping angels watching over the graves of entire families, looking to bring them to their eternal rest. Though it is terrifying and bone-chilling, there is also a terrible peace to--
"OKAY, PEOPLE! LET'S GET IN MORE FOG! AND WHERE'S MY NONFAT DOUBLE SHOT SOY LATTECINO?" It's amazing how the high-pitched, nasal, demanding voice over the PA really ruins the atmosphere.
Dusky skin and white shirt, as well as her relative height, make Farah stand out like a lighthouse in a sea of identical, t-shirt wearing crew members as she steps out of the crowd and onto the set. Despite the illusion being shattered, she seems to have a sense of genuine wonder as she looks around, staring up at a sky that doesn't quite exist. To her, the trappings of Hollywood have always been fascinating, something out of a fairy tale. But today, well... today's going to be a little different, as on this very spot she's going to be locked in combat with oil tycoon Hakan alongside a fighter she doesn't know, but feels she should.
A length of cobalt blue ribbon comes out of her pocket, tied around her right wrist, the tails flowing behind her as she does so. Two Arab dancer-fighters... a shame Hakan's married.
Oh, she's fought in a bar before - but that was the weirdest situation that Pullum can think back to. Most have been controlled, but none have really been creepy, scary, wet or wild. Unfortunately, today happens to mark the day where Pullum breaks that silly old tradition!
There's fog - there's a loud voice, and worse, there happens to be a rather large graveyard that marks the position for their fight. "A graveyard? ... But the dead below it.." It's weird, it's /scary/, and it's something she'll have to do - just when she started liking the feeling she gets dancing about!
The Arabian woman is once again in the United States, perhaps unaware some of it might just be a Halloween set! She stops beside Farah, looking out at her. "What are they doing? It seems so odd.."
Indeed, Hakan /is/ married! His beautiful, obedient, darling wife is standing off to the side and out of the way of the stagehands, herding the seven little girls that are so excited to be here! Tombstones and spooky decot be damned; there are gorgeous people, amazing devices, and everything is so busy! Best of all, there's a free snack bar, overflowing with sugary baked treats. Once in a while, one of them sees fit to try and run over to the stage, followed by one, then another, until a train of little turquoise-haired girls make a beeline for the red-skinned olive oil baron...until the leader screeches to a halt, each one bumping into the one before them. One of the key grips is a massive man, round and all roly-poly, shaved bald...and he's staring down at the poor little girls. With a squeal of mixed terror and delight, the rabble run back to the safety of their mother's legs.
"Do not worry, there are no dead down here!" Hakan's voice comes from one of the open graves near Pullum. Without warning, his great red bulk pops half out of the thing, despite the opening being far, far too slim for him! He looks like he'd fallen in from the top, squeezed and trapped. "See? You have nothing to worr--" It's at this point, he sees beyond the two other fighters, his family! "Hello, my pretties! Daddy will be done soon, I can't wait to come back to yooouuu~!" One arm pulls free from the grave, complete with a weird, squeaky popping noise as it's pulled free.
For Farah, part of the appeal of participating in Saturday Night Fight -- for this is only her second lifetime match -- is meeting so many interesting and diverse fighters. That is, after all, one of the reasons she herself followed that path. And Pullum and Hakan, well... they're certainly diverse. Farah feels a rush of warmth toward the pantalon-wearing dancer; after all, Farah herself has a very similar battle style. She opens her mouth, about to give her encouragement to Pullum, when... Hakan enters the scene, and then some. The Egyptian takes a step back, surprised, taking in Hakan's presence.
He looks brutish, in his own way... heavily muscled, thickly built. ~ But there's a warmth there... ~ she thinks to herself, surprised, until she sees the wife and children, which makes a smile cross her face. ~ Ah... well, that would explain it. ~
Now that all three fighters are present, the organizers seem like they want to get things underway, and give the signal to the fighters. Farah, for her part, nods and then bows slightly to both her teammate and their opponent. "It's my pleasure to be here... let's do our best for the show."
COMBATSYS: Farah has started a fight here on the left meter side.
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Farah 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Hakan has joined the fight here on the right meter side.
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Farah 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Hakan
COMBATSYS: Pullum has joined the fight here on the left meter side.
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Farah 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Hakan
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Pullum 0/-------/-------|
The woman's attention twists around to face Hakan - especially as he speaks out into the open, declaring quite a bit to her as well as the entire field, actually. The graveyard, Pullum believes, nearly rumbles the ground! .... And then he bursts from it!
Pullum leaps back in fear - and then understanding, shortly. "It is quite a relief then... I had thought this place was real." She admits, taking a sideways glance at the Halloween set. As Hakan makes not of his 'pretties', it takes a moment for Pullum to turn about and - what a family. He was a father? They must be so proud of him!
Even if he seems to be perpetually wet - or something of the sort! With the signal to begin, Pullum notes to Farah and Hakan. "Isn't it - but I had wished they made a bit more cheerful pick. Going from a Haunted House to here!" She exclaims, despite a small smile - leaping back and looking upon Hakan.
She doesn't strike though. The man is still somewhat stuck in the trap, it seems. How terrible to strike a 'helpless' father infront of his children!
Stuck? Is he really? He somehow manages to turn in the grave, despite it looking like he'd need some sort of power saw to get out. The director/announcer combo for tonight's entertainment finally calls for everyone else off of the set...but he knows better than to ask for quiet, given the event. Hakan, for his part with a big smile, and Pullum, a wave of his giant arm. Both of them remind him of his native land, despite the rather strange environment. Ah, but such is the splendor of America! There is so much to see, so many places to take his family when this is done!
Alas, Pullum's generosity is misplaced. Somehow, the Turkish man got himself into the understage area. Surely, he must be able to get out? Indeed, his lips part before they're pursed, cheeks puffing as his body flexes and bulges. The set starts to creak a bit, and before it reaches the breaking point, the man is but a red blur as he's squeezed out of the hole! The 'graveyard' rumbles once as he lands heavily upon it, feet pressed into the mock soil. "I am ready whenever you are!" he claims, already reaching back to rub at his previously-constricted waist. His pants are soaked to the point that they look black, and it's obvious now that one of the stage hands tried to apply zombie makeup on him...yet it's sliding off all over the place, revealing shiny, oil-slicked red skin beneath.
Laughing, Farah shakes her head at Hakan. He... well, he cuts an interesting figure. Sensing Pullum's resistance, she lays a comforting hand on the Arab girl's arm for a moment. "Look at his children," Farah says, sotto voce. "They believe in their father's strength. Don't be afraid." She sounds absolutely certain... and the truth is, she can feel the love that Hakan's family has for him through her Soul Power abilities. They're clearly a great source of strength for the oily man, that she can tell... just as her own parents supported her as well.
With that, she turns back to Hakan and nods. "Then allow me to get us started!" Stepping away from Pullum, she sets her foot against the surprisingly real-feeling ground, and then starts off toward Hakan at a run. Farah's guess is that such a solid fighter would shrug off something so simple as a punch, and so she tries a different tactic, employing her Baguazhang training to try and slip around to the side, hooking her arm onto Hakan's and then transferring her momentum to him, sending him to the graveyard 'floor' on his back!
Looking away, Pullum's glance towards the man gets a wave returned, and her glance back to Hakan is one of surprise - where did he go!? It's not everyday that a rather large man, stuck in a trap, vanishes without a trace - save for the ground rumbling a bit before hand.
As he lands, the idea that he .. shot out becomes less surprising. The oil, and paint, seems to just be leaking off him, something of a waterfall of oil on a single man. Pullum doesn't make a motion towards him yet, despite being ready.
She sits back... because she doesn't believe that's possibly a fighting style!
She's wrong in end, and a hand rests itself on her, Pullum turning. "I'm sure he's quite the father." She notes, smiling - and then shakes her head. "I won't."
But Farah gets started, running towards him. Pullum leaps forwards, jumping onto a grave, springing off of it, into the air. Spinning through the air, she whips about, blades of 'energy' created as her legs go wide, spiralling rapidly towards Hakan, before she lands a way away.
COMBATSYS: Hakan blocks Farah's Medium Throw.
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Farah 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Hakan
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Pullum 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Pullum successfully hits Hakan with Kind Wind.
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Farah 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Hakan
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Pullum 0/-------/-------|
Try as she might, there's just no pulling Hakan over! Even if she does manage to pull on his arm, there's just too much oil to get a proper grip on it. The poor thing's likely to just slip right off and on her butt before tossing him! The attempt leaves the man looking very confused and molested, with those great white eyes looking down at her. "Oh! You want to wrestle too, is that it? Well, let me show you how we throOOOGH?!"
It was just his being sloppy, really. How rude is that, throwing something at him while he's attenting to Farah?! Seriously? Just when he'd turned toward her, looming over as his arms come down and his body arches...he gets a shredding of energy that send smatters of oil flying everywhere and leave behind dry, raw patches of burdened flesh. His eyes had grown wide, like a stooping man just knocked in the butt by an ornery billygoat. "Is that supposed to happen?!" he asks of poor Farah, even as he tries to shove her down with a big hand on the back of her head and the other starts to get, uh. A bit grabby, what with the arm doing its best to reach around her ass and back through her thighs. So indecent!
COMBATSYS: Hakan successfully hits Farah with Hakan Throw.
-**- LUNATIC HIT!! -**-
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Farah 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Hakan
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Pullum 0/-------/-------|
Well then. It's a good thing everyone has to sign a waiver before this. You know why? Because slippery Hakan's grab is a little too much for Farah to evade, and so she falls into his grasp despite her best attempt to sidestep free... which is fine, and she goes flying through the air, which is usually how these things go. But Hakan, in his eagerness to wrassle, perhaps didn't consider what comes after. Or maybe Farah, attempting to get free, set herself up for this. Either way, what happens is that she goes through one of those 'guardian angel' statues, made of real stone, *head first*. She maybe has a second or two to make a noise of protest once she realizes it's imminent, but physics doesn't really care about such things. The statue effectively collapses on top of her in chunks.
It's... quite some time before she emerges from the rubble, a little bit of blood running down the left side of her face, and she's not really able to take immediate action, instead taking a moment to try and get back to her senses.
COMBATSYS: Farah focuses on her next action.
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Farah 0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0 Hakan
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Pullum 0/-------/-------|
Watching on, Pullum has a strangely simple relevation about the dangers of Hakan - it doesn't seem like trying to grasp the man may do anygood, especially as he seems to prefer wrestling, too, of all things! Pullum, landing between two graves, looks on at the surprised Hakan - whom actually asks if that is supposed to happen!
"It wasn't intentional to remove your ... costume." She assumes, "But it was intentional to be a bother. It is a fight." And Farah is shown rather quickly that it certainly is!
Pullum only watches on as Farah is hoisted up and tossed, slammed into a statue - Pullum winces, leaping to the side, glancing at the unfortunate landing place of Farah and back to Hakan. "That's quite the throwing arms you have!" The dancer exclaims, kicking off with a somewhat flashy flip, a hefty and heavy heel racing towards the man's chest!
COMBATSYS: Hakan interrupts Strong Kick from Pullum with Hakan Spear.
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Farah 0/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Hakan
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Pullum 0/-------/-======|
Even after Hakan tosses Farah into being brain-busted for a while, he remains in his pose, arms lifted up and looking for all the world as though he'd forgotten what he was in the middle of. In truth, he hadn't expected the girl to fly like /that/. Usually, his toss just leaves somebody dropped on the ground behind him. Hearing the crashing of actual stone crashing and crumbling behind him, the baron's eyes blink once, blink twice. His daughters are watching with wide eyes and open mouths, silent for a few seconds before they erupt in high-pitched little squeals! Oh, their father is so amazing! Before long, some of them are attempting to recreate the throw with their little Hakan action figures.
When he turns around to survey the damage, it's to face Pullum coming in to follow up the sneak attack from earlier! "Aaaah HAH! Attack me from the back, will you?" The way his lips pull up shows that he just might be enjoying this! Who said one has to treat girls gently? His full bulk stands up straight and then his right arm rears back, pulling his torso just far enough to take the girl's heel right in the pectoral. Instead of crushing the ribs and lung beneath, however, it just sort of...slides right off! His hand flies forward at that moment, open wide and bent at the wrist, palm out while he just...pushes on the poor girl's stomach. Reversing her trajectory so suddenly can't be good for her, like a rubber ball slapped back toward a wall. Or, in this case, many walls, depending on how many headstones she breaks on the way across the stage!
Narrowing her eyes a little bit at Hakan, Farah seems to be reassessing the Turkish wrestler somewhat. She still senses that he cares very much about his family, but there is something very... offputting about him, now that the battle has started in earnest. He is forceful, energetic, and his style is something she herself hasn't ever seen before. In that respect she is intrigued. But there's something... she just can't put her finger on... well. And after that throw, she has zero interest in getting in close to Hakan again until she has to, and thus she mirrors Pullum's strategy from before; while the dancer heads in to strike with her heel, Farah has other plans.
Holding out one hand -- the be-ribboned one -- a swirling ball of midnight blue energy begins to form, the tails of her ribbon billowing out behind her erratically in some unseen wind. Bringing that arm back, she swings it forward in an arc, the ribbon tails flowing out in front of her, the sphere of Soul Power flowing along the ribbon's path and streaking across the distance toward Hakan. Take that!
The back attack goes /poorly/. As the leg comes down, Hakan takes the brunt of the blow - and simply is slid off of! For a dancer, a misstep is a dangerous thing, and that was certainly dangerous. Pullum emits a rather unflattering sound, suddenly reversing direction and slamming through at least one tombstone, the resulting 'rubble' covering her.
Like a zombie, however, Pullum rises - hacking and coughing, and slightly dazed. The strike itself was powerful, but the few blows to her body as she flew through the air didn't help in the least - who knew learning to fight could be so difficult! Especially that tricky problem of keeping herself on the defensive while on the offense!
Staggering to her feet, she notes Farah taking the offensive -an offensive that she feels, for once, she must join. Perhaps Hakan will falter under the combined Arabian power. Shaking herself a bit, still somewhat dazed, Pullum twirls, skips, and bounds once more into the air - kicking off a cross before she falls, spiraling down like an arrow - chi swelling about her legs as she falls, like a drill!
COMBATSYS: Hakan blocks Farah's Sacred Heart.
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Farah 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Hakan
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Pullum 0/-------/--=====|
COMBATSYS: Pullum successfully hits Hakan with Drill Purrus.
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Farah 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Hakan
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Pullum 0/-------/-======|
"Hah HAH! Do you see now?" After having smashed both Farah and Pullum aside, the big Turkish man hefts up his pants a bit, bringing a jingle of metal links. Reaching behind him with the other hand, he's about to pull something out when...fireball?! Well, okay, SOUL Ball, bit it's semantics! All that matters is that the stage erupts in light as both girls attempt to wreak their vengeance upon him!
"Wow, wait one second--!" He rips from the ground one of the smaller headstones, expecting the heavy weight of carved stone. Instead, what he holds out is a mass of paper maché and god knows what else...something that gets ripped as he gets what's left of the Soul ball in the face, followed immediately by other dancer girl's feet. This time, however, she doesn't slip off! The angle, the speed, it's just perfect enough to catch his features without sliding.
Well...the feet don't slide. He does, however, gliding on his back through dirt and smashing through headstones--even an animatronic zombie that had just popped for effect! He disappears into the poor mechanical thing's grave, safe in the confines of the inside of the stage. He doesn't yet pop out, but there's just a lot of...sloshing?
COMBATSYS: Hakan gains composure.
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Farah 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Hakan
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Pullum 0/-------/-======|
An unintentional combo attack, but it reminds Farah that she's not alone in this fight, and now that there's a break in the action, the Egyptian heads across the distance toward Pullum, standing near her again and giving the other young lady a wan smile. "You have an interesting style," Farah says, genuinely impressed. "I think we both have something in common... you like to dance too, I take it?" She turns toward the hole where Hakan just disappeared, waiting for him to emerge... which he doesn't. Blinking a little in surprise, she keeps talking to Pullum while this all goes on. "Let's have a match of our own sometime."
Well, Hakan's not coming out. Alright. She can deal with that. "I guess we'll have to... the phrase is 'flush out the bird', yes?" With that, she starts running toward the grave where Hakan just vanished, and then leaps at it... but rather than trying to dive into the grave with a kick, she rebounds off the remains of a robot zombie thing and lands behind a nearby headstone, which she attempts to kick into the grave and on top of Hakan! Symbolism is fun for everyone.
The tombstone doesn't manage to stop anything! A /grave/ mistake. Pullum bounces off of Hakan, coming to a rest ( without slipping ), somehow. Only when she takes a step forwards that she realizes her feet are slightly oily, and the less control she has, the less control she can keep.
"Why do you want us to wait? Did something happen? You look fine.." Says the Arbian dancer - especially as Hakan seems to glide straight into a grave! unfortunately, Pullum isn't capable of following a man who happens to be somewhat of a gopher, and his sloshing will have to wait.
"I guess he is not feeling well," Pullum remarks, wiping the oil ( or trying to ) on the ground, looking over to Farah.
"I'm not sure how I would manage it - and yes, dancing is the way I leanred to fight... rather, dancing is what I did before I ever knew how to fight!" It answers her 'does she like to' question to a tee - though she doesn't follow Farah!
COMBATSYS: Pullum focuses on her next action.
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Farah 1/-------/=======|======-\-------\0 Hakan
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Pullum 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: Hakan endures Farah's Thrown Object.
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Farah 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Hakan
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Pullum 0/-------/-======|
In the comfort of the dark inner stage, Hakan has all the time in the world to renew his oily coating, or so he thinks! It's a tight fit to begin with, but he manages to reach for one of his emergency backup olive oil bottles from god knows where, pull the cork out with his teeth, and slather it all over himself. It's a good thing that he's hidden, too, or some of the video feeds might have to switch to commercial. Then again, if the cameras were rolling through his inappropriate grappling of Farah at the start, why would they stop now?
"All right, now I'm ready for--huh?!" Trapped in the passageways as he is, there's no way that he can try to avoid the surprise assault. Instead, he clenches his teeth and steels his jaw, taking the collision right on the noggin! If only his ornately-styled hair were indeed a helmet as many people though it was. The hit is enough to send him slipping through the understage area like a clog flushed out of twisty pipes, only to pop out of a grave on the other side of the stage and just behind Pullum! "You can't let your guard down!" he yells out, still smiling and flying toward the poor girl like some sort of oily demon. And if he can get his arms wrapped around the girl, well...god help her!
But...what does his wife think of him hugging such a cute young thing?!
COMBATSYS: Hakan knocks away Pullum with Oil Rocket.
? Strange Hit! !
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Farah 1/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Hakan
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Pullum 1/----===/=======|
That makes Farah grimace a moment when Hakan pops back up, as she realizes she's helped Hakan get over to her partner faster, rather than actually helping much in the battle. She'd intended to have BETTER teamwork with Pullum, and now feels no small amount of chagrin in having done exactly the opposite. To her credit, she doesn't just stay there and fret; ducking around the gravestone, she starts back towards Pullum's position. She's too late to intercept Hakan, but at the very least she can try to help Pullum make some sort of counterattack, or maybe even keep Hakan offbalance long enough so that it's not QUITE so terrible, this... hugging.
Swinging to a stop just behind Hakan as he reaches for Pullum, the Egyptian brings her hands together, fingers extended, palms out, and then pushes them in front of her, making a rough circle with her arms, one hand behind the other. It's not a particularly powerful blow, but it might knock Hakan offbalance for a moment or two and give both Pullum and Farah a way to swing the momentum back to their side.
As she tries to stay careful, and away from Hakan's terrifying grip - things don't always work like she hopes. Not only is Hakan struck, he's shot outwards, shooting out behind Pullum! Now that's a sudden reversal!
Trying to whirl around to face him, Pullum is grasped - and her guard goes up.
Far too late.
Grasped, she's squeezed - and then shot out right before it was going to crush her! It still shoots her up into the air, almost breathless, as she falls to the ground, landing with a little more grace than her somewhat now oily body ... really has had.
"He really likes to get in close and personal..." She notes, leaping forwards... and then landing, almost 'skating' from his oil. "What is this-" Not that she ... expected it.
She twists around, flailing somewhat - leading with a leg.
COMBATSYS: Hakan endures Pullum's Light Kick.
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Farah 1/-------/=======|=======\==-----\1 Hakan
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Pullum 1/----===/=======|
COMBATSYS: Hakan interrupts Strong Punch from Farah with Flying Oil Spin.
? Strange Hit! ?
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Farah 1/-======/=======|-------\-------\0 Hakan
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Pullum 1/----===/=======|
As Pullum is literally squeezed from his manly bear hug, it's with a comical 'vwip!' sort of sound! Immediately, he lifts his right arm, flexing and curling it upward as its twin does the same thing, only mirrored downward. "Did you see that, my daughters?! Daddy is fighting for yooouuu~!" It doesn't matter that he's on live television and in an actual /contest/ of sorts. This is his time to show off in front of his family!
It takes a point from his dearest wife to return his attention to the fight, however. With a short "What?", he looks at the pair of girls as if for the first time, like he's surprised to find them there. "Ah! Do not worry, this will be over soon!" Rolling his shoulders, Hakan spreads his arms and...tries to run. His legs lift and his feet connect with the ground, yet...they don't find any purchase! There isn't even any dirt kicked up, just a squeaky sound with each 'step' that sounds like one wiping a rubber glove along a clean countertop. It's like he's kinda...waiting for something.
And Pullum's kick is apparently what it takes! When she swings out and catches his leg, the giant man falls forward. no--it's more like he FLIES forward, releasing all of the momentum that he'd been trying to build up like some sort of giant spring. Meeting Farah's incoming punch against his head, the blow once more sliding off to the side. However, that's not what's important. No, when his arms slap around the girl, it's with a monstrous grip, like being held in a vice. He HAS to hold on that hard, just to keep from squeezing the poor girl out. And then, the world starts to spin, or so it seems. Rotating lengthwise, Hakan and his partner fly across the ground in a spinning rage, tearing through zombies and whatever headstones remain, kicking up dirt like a drill tearing through topsoil. When he collides with the wall--or more specifically, when FARAH collides with the wall--the pair bounce back, then forth, slamming between the walls and generally just tenderizing the Soul Power victim, finally ending with a sort of horizontal body-splash against the rear wall, knocking down the night sky-painted backdrop!
What can be said about what just happened that has not already been said? The crew -- well, the studio crew who care about this place, not the SNF crew who don't give a damn one way or the other -- are making distinct D: faces as Farah slams into the back wall so hard a panel of the fake black sky comes down, leaving a gunmental-grey hole in the universe, as it were. The dusky-skinned fighter drops down from the wall, then eventually rolls to a stop after overturning a few graves in the process. Slowly she gets to her feet, grimacing with pain in the process, slowly making sweeping motions across her arms and legs with one hand to try and wipe off some of that oil. "Your style in unusual, but no less effective for it," Farah says through gritted teeth. Only two hits from Hakan, and she feels like she's ready to pass out right now.
But she can't. If she wants this to be worth it -- if she wants her career as a fighter to give her what she's looking for -- she has to see it through to the end.
Bringing her beribboned hand up in front of her, Farah closes her eyes. Again, that unseen wind seems to blow the tails of the ribbon about, the entire thing starting to glow with that starry night-colored energy, glittering like stars. When the intensity reaches fever pitch, Farah brings her arm back and addresses Hakan, conviction echoing in her voice. "I might not have your physical strength, but there are other ways I can fight!"
And then she starts dancing in place. She's actually quite good, though likely not as much as a talented and experienced dancer like Pullum. The important thing, though, is the arc of that blue ribbon as she moves her hands. With each cycle of the dance, the ribbon slices through the air, and a wave of glittering midnight-blue Soul Power arcs across the distance between herself and Hakan. After five full revolutions and five such arcs, Farah comes to a stop, bowing forward somewhat.
It certainly may be over soon, especially the way Hakan fights! No quarter is given to them, and perhaps, it is for the best. She isn't going to learn without sacrifice - and the man is certainly sacrificing their innocence, if nothing more.
Truly, all should fight an oiled up man in spectacular grabby combat.
The arabian woman looks away, momentarily - but finds that she simply cannot as Hakan grasps and begins to bounce around. Quickly, as well! Pullum even leaps to higher grave ground than to get in the way of the two - until it stops, crashing against the background.
She moves towards them - but Farahs sudden eruption of glittering midnight-blue Soul Power makes it a bit more difficult, but she tries to get closer. A leap forwards and she lands nearby Hakan, spinning as she rises, a foot extended to smash into the man - and if not slide off - push him up and into the Soul Power!
COMBATSYS: Hakan blocks Farah's Heart and Soul.
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Farah 0/-------/-======|=------\-------\0 Hakan
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Pullum 1/----===/=======|
COMBATSYS: Hakan interrupts Ten'el Kick from Pullum with Oil Slide.
? Strange Hit! ?
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Farah 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Hakan
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Pullum 1/---====/=======|
Trapped. Trapped like a rat! Hakan looks on either side of himself. On one side, he has Farah and her provocative dance, an alluring display of shaking...ribbon power?! On the other side, he has Pullum coming up behind him. What is a fairly-battered oil wrestler-slash-olive oil mogul to do?!
He jumps.
Though, saying that he /jumps/ might be a bit generous. Giant feet sink into the fake soil as he hops toward Farah, both of his dipping, shiny arms held up in front of his face. The quick lashes of ribbon halt his momentum, bits of oil send splashing onto the ground between the two in a smattered mess...and then he flies backward! It would be a perfect one-two combo, just backwards in regards to their plan, if only it weren't for the way he hits the ground! Dropping down, belly-up, the mountainous man glides over some poor sap's grave with his hands reaching out, sliding right into Pullum's pinned leg to send her spinning and toppling!
"So close! Don't give up!" Such a strange style, indeed!
Physically it might be the oil that's making him slippery, but to Farah's eyes -- and the heart-reading ability that is Soul Power -- it's a combination of Hakan's attitude and flexibility that really make him 'slippery.' Anything goes for the Turk, and combining that with his confident personality, he is ready for anything. In Farah's eyes, it's an enviable position to be in, and very difficult to attain. ~ Even after all I've seen the past few months, ~ she thinks to herself, ~ I still have doubts, don't I? ~
Of course, while Farah is grappling with the situation, Hakan is grappling with Pullum. The trouble, of course, is that the girls have tried frontal assaults, striking from afar, and sneaky tactics alike. None of it seems to have that much effect... though Farah realizes, in truth, that might not be their tactics at all. It may just be that even a perfectly-formed strategy doesn't mean much in the face of someone who will take an important risk? "Don't give up yet," she encourages her partner, glancing at Pullum with a smile. "Okay? I'll fight with you to the end."
With that, she charges Hakan. Coming in low, she suddenly rises with an open palm strike to his chest to knock him off balance, then effortlessly moves to the side before lunging in with a strike to the stomach, and then finally spins to deliver a crushing blow from above. It's a little bit Rekka Ken, a little bit Aang the Avatar.
Pullum is intercepted yet again - and she needed that leg to stand on! Bowled over, at least she finds out Hakan is a little more comfortable than a sliding luge of a man seems to be - he's still mostly muscle!
The girl, bowled over, crashes to her back, again like a turtle without a shell. It honestly hurts. "You're ... quite the interesting warrior." Pullum notes, slowly rising. Up and down - up and down! She just can't stay on her feet against Hakan!
Perhaps he just sweeps women of their feet.
"Fight to the end? You don't need to make that much of a promise..." She exclaims, turning, "because I have every intention of doing the same!" Fast on her feet, for once, Pullum leaps from one grave to the other, sliding a bit closer to Hakan, spiralling towards him, much like an ice sakter - on grass.
With so much oil, she attempts to use it against him, spinning like a tornado, leg extended, to sweep him up and pull him into the air - and maybe launch him against something that isn't Farah. But .. what if Hakan's can bounce!?
Perhaps Halloween may be saved somehow by this discovery.
COMBATSYS: Pullum successfully hits Hakan with Praec Larm.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////// ]
Farah 0/-------/-======|==-----\-------\0 Hakan
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Pullum 0/-------/---====|
COMBATSYS: Hakan interrupts Summer Storm from Farah with Oil Slide.
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Farah 1/-----==/=======|===----\-------\0 Hakan
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Pullum 0/-------/---====|
Oh, such teamwork! Such concord! Such beautiful harmony!
Even now, Hakan's daughters are squealing and just generally enjoying seeing their darling daddy sliding and bouncing around the place so much that it completely nullifies any attempt for it to look scary! Even the manufactured lightning strikes and thunderclaps can't turn it around; it's like watching some documentary about Middle Eastern cultures, only somebody transposed the actors from their golden fountains and sandy roads!
"Oh!" After sliding under Pullum, Hakan 'collides' with a wall...but instead of smashing against it, he sort of slides UP the thing, just high enough to land deftly on his feet. "You're still standing! You're more robust than I'd given you credit for! You'll give some man many strong children!" A hand comes up to rub at his shoulders, smoothing out the thinning oil layer on his skin...but it's a bad decision at the wrong time. His guard is down when Pullum comes spinning toward him like a tornado of fine silks and luxurious hair. He hadn't been taking her seriously enough, made light of her attacks thus far. The sneak attack was a fluke, he was sure...but being lifted and kicked into a tornado of delicate footplants on his supple, smooth flesh?! He was not prepared! He spins as he flies upward; quite a reversal for him, to be the one launched! His white eyes spin, arms out and he ends up flying toward Farah like some sort of meaty frisbee, albeit one coming in low and fast. Why should Pullum be the only one swept off her feet?!
She will give some man many what now?
It doesn't even matter if those words were directed at herself, or at Pullum; even as she's sent tumbling backwards, rolling to a stop against a gravestone, that comment is all she can think about. Now, Hakan didn't mean it in a negative way. Surprisingly, with her ability to sense his feelings, Farah KNOWS that he meant it in a complimentary fashion, really. He was attempting to say that these girls are strong. Or maybe just Pullum or just Farah. To be honest it's not entirely clear.
However, when she stands up, Farah is... well. A Fury, right out of Greek myth, standing poised and in stance, ready to fight. Which she doesn't do, that's probably the strange part. Instead, she moves her hands a bit in the circle-like gestures of Baguazhang, eyeing Hakan. "We shall show you that women are capable of quite a bit more!" she says hotly, before looking at Pullum. "Please, Ms. Purna... let us dance together. I think you will know the steps!"
With that, she throws her arm out, the ribbon dancing behind her as a halo of her starry-night Soul Power erupts around her, concentrating on that beribboned fist. Just like an idol of hers, the girl dashes forward along the ground toward Hakan as if she's barely touching it, fist extended, the tails of her ribbon dancing like a helix behind her strike...
Sending Hakan flying wasn't exactly a mistake - she certainly knew what she was doing! Sending him flying straight towards Farah was something completely diferent. Give a man what? Pullum only now thinks of the line, but dismisses it. She's sure it was to Farah, however. She's got soul.
But Farah is standing, and perhaps even better, Farah is asking to dance. How can she say no? Especially in the case that so many would like to see them dance, as well!
"Yes, we shall! You may lead!" She directs to Farah, having landed upon one of the fallen gravestone, perched pecariously on the cross the is at a 45 degree angle. She bows - and watches on at Farah, as she shoots out like a star, billowing with soul energy. Such a potent glow!
But as Farah dashes in forwards, Pullum comes from above. She spins about in place once, rotating, before she kicks off, landing and leaping against a tree prop, before almost balling up - twirling through the air towards where Hakan would be - an axe kick, of sorts! Far, far more fancy, with both legs leading!
COMBATSYS: Hakan endures Farah and Pullum's Desert Wind.
[ \\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Farah 0/-------/----===|=====--\-------\0 Hakan
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ <
Pullum 0/-------/---====|
However it is she makes contact, Farah suddenly drives forward, blowing through Hakan like a shooting star... but before she can run past, she makes a quick course correction, turning and adding a second hand strike to shove Hakan right into Pullum's waiting arms... proverbially speaking.
After Hakan had been sent barrelling through Farah, he comes to a gradual stop by gripping onto one of the open graves he slides past. The grip is enough for him to swing around it a few times, like a golf ball refusing to return to its hallowed home. When he comes to a stop, it's with heavy grunts and puffing that he pulls himself to his feet! The world is spinning a little, and did he really feel this tired? A few slaps to his cheeks help restore his vigor, and with it, the vision or two Arabian beauties shaking the hell out of it! For a few quiet seconds, he stares at the two, then pulls himself up to his full height, posture straightened with both of his arms crossed before his massive chest.
"I'm sorry, girls, but I am a happily married man! Your alluring dance is indeed a treasure, but a wasted one!" He's gotten the wrong idea, hasn't he? How proud his wife must be, to have a man able to resist such temptations! The fact that she's tanding /right over there/ has nothing to do with it, surely. However, the sentiment is a wasted one. It's not the assault on his heart that he must fear; it's far simpler! The misplaced resolve maintains itself as Farah comes with her abominable assault, while the red giant simply weathers it. Beat him, toss him, assault his flesh with soul energies, it matters not! Without moving a muscle, he's slid across the graveyard and into Pullum's followup. The heels slamming into his head cause his eyes to grow wide, the man's posture finally breaking as he lifts a hand to rub at the point of impact.
"...OOOOOW! That really hurt!" He looks confused as all hell; were they not trying to seduce him on international television? Was it all a ruse?! He hisses as his hand runs over the flattened parts of his hair, the woven circles now resembling something like dirty moebius strips. His gaze goes from his hand to the pair before him time and again before, finally, he exhales a heavy puff of breath. "Tricky, tricky girls! A lesser man would have fallen for your wiles!" But...didn't he just get pounded all to hell? Despite the tough facade he puts off, he's actually really breathing heavily, and even slouching despite his best efforts. It takes a lot of energy to move a man of his size, and it's apparent that it's running out. But not yet! No, with the passion in his face renewed, the great big smile that shows the thrill of the fight and his love of his nation--even the sneaky girls of it--he pushes off with one leg and glides forth on the other! Almost like an ice skater does he come toward Pullum, one giant hand swinging out. The thing is large enough to pick her up by the waist if he so desired, surely...which is just what he'd do: toss her up and over his back single-handed, apparently wanting to go right through her and toward Farah next!
It's gratifying to feel her blow strike home, even if some sinking feeling tells her that it is Pullum who may pay the price for their combined attack not striking down Hakan... clearly, the Egyptian had underestimated the Turk's fortitude. That he calls the dance an attempt to wile him away from his beautiful wife. Who, incidentally, is in evidence, along with his many children. Still, it is not Hakan's outdated and accidental misogyny that gets under Farah's skin... it's that she felt, for a moment, a little thrill at getting her attack to connect despite not really feeling any animosity toward Hakan... just a little annoyance at his words.
For a moment, Pullum and Hakan are forgotten, as the girl looks down at her fist, eyes narrowed. She only felt that feeling one other time, though much more strongly than she does now. When Farah was battling the SIN Spider, Juri... not many of Farah's attacks connected, but those that did, filled her with a feeling of... pleasure. It felt GOOD to hit the Korean, with her terrifying, disquieting aura. So why should she feel that now hitting Hakan, who has no such sense of evil? Who she knows, she KNOWS, is only saying something out of cultural habit?
It vexes her.
When Farah's thoughts clear, she realizes that Hakan has struck out against her teammate, and she makes her best effort to catch up to him, attempting to place both hands on the oily Turk's stomach and suddenly shove, sending him off balance and onto the ground. Will it be soon enough to save Pullum? Or will the dancing Arab take the fall for steps of Farah's origination?
COMBATSYS: Hakan successfully hits Pullum with Strong Throw.
[ \\\\\\ < > ///// ]
Farah 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Hakan
[ \\\\\\ <
Pullum 0/-------/=======|
The movement of Hakan - after the strike - is a surprising one. How ... he managed to stand after that, she'll never know. But as she stands, coming to a stop - he's done the same! It's rather unbelievable, and Pullum isn't expecting what comes next. Gliding forth towards her, Pullum finds herself grasped by the massive hand that Hanak swings towards her - and by the waist - is picked up, tossed simply backwards from the oily giant, left to tumble along the dead ground much like so many leaves.
It's truly not the best of feelings.
She bounds backwards, her body crashing against the ground over and over, the speed leaving her from Hakan's movement as she strikes against the same tree she perched upon before, coming to a stop.
It takes a little longer to get to her feet, shake herself off, and - press a hand against the scenery as she begins to rise. "Hah... I think... I'm not able to keep you as entertained as ... I would like." She admits, a bit of a smile. "You have outlasted my dance but .. I ... can't just give up!"
Kicking off the ground, her legs almost numb from effort, she spirals about, giving it her all - a single blow left. She'll try it all! Her body twists about as she moves off the ground. "Please, take care... I don't think I will be able to ... keep going for much longer!" Wide strides, as she waves her legs in the air, towards Hakan, letting her legs carry her forwards, body trailing almost like a ribbon.
COMBATSYS: Farah successfully hits Hakan with Medium Throw.
[ \\\\\\ < > /// ]
Farah 0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1 Hakan
[ \\\\\ <
Pullum 0/-------/--=====|
COMBATSYS: Hakan endures Pullum's Prim Kick.
[ \\\\\\ < > ]
Farah 0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1 Hakan
[ \\\\\ <
Pullum 0/-------/-======|
He tries. He really tries. As Farah's palms come toward Hakan's oiled-up gut, she can see it flexing. More accurately, it's sucked inward as he tries to turn around and slip past the assault! But it's too little, too late, for the oil baron to avoid. The woman's allowed the joy of injuring another once again, and so well that his body starts to fold with the hit! A loud, messy "GaHOOF!" He staggers backward, one hand on his stomach and eyes spinning...not that anyone can really tell. The man is wide open, his previously-inexhaustable cheer and happy demeanor giving way to the fatigue of battle. As he stumbles along, he very nearly trips over a fake skull that he steps on, arms out and flailing...but lucky, there is Pullum to swing her feet and hit him back toward the Farah! He is like one big ping pong ball, only messier. And heavier.
All of this, of course, has completely screwed up his balance, and it shows. Slipping on bits of his own oil, he almost topples once, twice. What will it take to finally drop him?! One step crosses over the other and he sort of...turns as he walks. With his arms out, it would be easy to gather up a poor bystander as he's spinning around...
COMBATSYS: Hakan can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\ <
Farah 0/-------/----===|
[ \\\\\ <
Pullum 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: Farah counters Oil Coaster from Hakan with Gensekiju.
[ \\\\\\ <
Farah 0/-------/--=====|
[ \\\\\ <
Pullum 0/-------/-======|
Okay. She... she's held it in this whole fight. There are so many fascinating fighters, after all! And with her home being on the Mediterranean, it's not as if Farah hasn't HEARD of the various Greek and Turkish wrestling traditions, including Yagli Gures (special characters optional). And clearly, Hakan is a serious fighter who has trained very hard! He's shown great skill in this match so far, and that should be commended! The world is really a vast place full of so many different ways to live!
But... but...!
As Hakan spins near Farah, she suddenly twists out of the way, snaps out a hand, and wraps that Soul-charged ribbon around Hakan's outstretched arm, shouting "THAT OIL..." Then she plants her foot, pivots, and in a swirl of cloth and arm movement, flips the poor Turk through the air, using her psychic-empowered ribbon tails like a slingshot. "...FEELS QUITE DISGUSTING! GET AWAY!"
There's a long moment afterwards where Farah, eyes wide, simply sits there, hunched forward from the end of her technique, taking deep breaths. "I, uh... I'm not sure what came over me, there... my, uh... apologies..."
The hit, especially with all that oil, makes many sounds - and none of them pleasant to hear. Yet it's far more pleasant that he hasn't been reduced to a melted pool of oil, and instead, only staggers backwards - which Pullum strikes! She slides off, spiralling, before coming to a ( somewhat unbalanced ) landing, almost slipping a few times from the oil that she has gathered on her slippers.
"Ah!" She gasps, as she watches Farah become the next rider on the fabled oil express!
BUT. Psychic energy. The best way to describe what happens, a ribbon tails shooting the turk away from harming her! Pullum sighs in relief, raising a slippery slipper to rub at the oil. Hmmm. "It's actually really nice." Pullum interrupts, rubbing it between two fingers. "He must just like the feeling of it, and just built his style around it! I did the same thing." But instead of BARRELS OF OIL, she just danced.
Not everyone can be Hakan. "Are you alright, sir?" She asks - to the potentially rebounding man.
Even as disoriented as Hakan is, he knows the difference between being on the grund and being in the air! Once the oddly-empowered ribbon clutches his nearly-dried arm, even he can't do anything about it! His body feels heavy, tired, and if just left alone, he'd just fall face-down into the set's soil and not bother anyway.
BUT NO.
Instead, he's given a tour of the rafters above, crashing through lights and wires until he's tangled up in it all! There's enough stuff that he's bundled in that he just dangles overhead, groaning until someone's able to get a crane up there to bring him back down. "Wwwwwhat in the...?" But don't worry, daughters! Daddy isn't dead! He will, however, get quite the Talking To from his wife, later. Poor man.
Log created on 19:28:25 10/31/2010 by Farah, and last modified on 14:36:09 11/03/2010.