Description: Wing Xiaoping, fugitive from the law, is not to be blamed for her insecurities. Sure, her idea of seeking out potential King of Fighters teammates was beating up random bystanders and taking their money. But it's not her fault that her hopeless desire to give Aranha the impression she is more than a somewhat sociopathic kung-fu thug makes her a little touchy about her appearance -- and who wouldn't feel intimidated in the presence of the phenomenal Shermie and her single special move. Security Guard Karate, that's who. Fists, fireballs, and lingerie fly in an epic encounter that is a disgrace to participants and bystanders alike.
You may be wondering to yourself: Where has Wing Xiaoping been all this time?
It's true that the streets have seemed significantly less queenly over the last month or so, as Southtown settles into yet another harsh and dreary Japanese winter. Truth be told, for the previous month, Wing was doing quite well for herself, at least by Wing standards. The King of Fighters tournament looming in the near future, and the opportunity it gave her to fight alongside her Jinchuu compatriot Keith 'Aranha' Mason, has stirred something in her blood, something that had lain vaguely dormant after she had taken the life of Wakamoto, and thought she had taken the life of Eagle and Yuri.
Her unserendipitous encounter with Eagle several weeks after returning to Southtown was hardly pleasant, to say the least. Though perhaps better than the hour or so she had to spend afterward with him in the back of a garbage truck.
She never intends on speaking to him again.
The point is, Wing's violent urges, perpetual and inevitable, rose to the surface of the roiling cauldron of her soul once more, steaming like a noisome hunk of some unidentifiable meat. The meat of violence. Her idea of 'training for King of Fighters' and 'seeking potential teammates' included, but was not limited to, a) beating people up, b) taking their money, c) beating people up and taking their money, d) pointing and claiming to see a UFO and then beating a person up and taking their money, e) pointing and claiming to see a UFO and then stealing their baby out of their stroller and ransoming it back later for twenty bucks, f) but that only happened once, and g) running frequently from the cops. Eventually (g) became so predominant that Wing had to go underground briefly, and keep her nose and forehead out of trouble.
But things have cooled down now, and she's ready to show her face. Which is good, because she needs to see her teammate as soon as possible. Hopefully, he'd done all the work; she expects that he most likely has. Still, if she's going to see Aranha again, she needs some new threads. And she can't spill black bean sauce on them this time.
And /so/, at long last, we find ourselves in the Southtown Mall, where Wing is caught in a dilemma all too unusual: emotional ambivalence. Sending lingering glances in one direction, and hesitant but hopeful gazes in the other, the pretty, snub-nosed Chinese girl in urbanwear wrinkles her prodigious brow as she contemplates her true desires. It's tough, when it doesn't involve punching people.
In one direction, a high-class women's designer clothing store.
In the other, Sean John.
She only has enough ill-gotten gains for other. And she wants another hoodie. But...
But maybe... it's time... to keep trying something new. Right?
Biting a thin bottom lip, Wing squints self-consciously before, mumbling unintelligibly under her breath, she meanders in the direction of the fancy women's clothing store, little hands stuffed deep into the front pockets of her worn hoodie, looking pretty much like a shoplifter not even trying to disguise themselves.
There's got to be /something/ that suits her.
Nerdy people who have no life and do not follow Shermie on twitter may be wondering to themselves: where has Shermie been all this time?
<3 SHERMIE'S OFFICIAL OROCHI CHECKLIST <3
12 mortals succubus'd
11 midnight release parties
10 interviews given while drunk
9 backup dancers mysteriously vanishing
8 trips in private jets to 'wherever it's 10 pm, seriously just go'
7 VIP rooms at the same club
6 trips with Chris to the butterfly exhibit
5 engagement rings
4 million dollars in royalties
3 French hens (imported)
2 nights calming Yashiro down about his gay lust for Iori
And a search for a really cute blouse!
Almost the second Wing Xiaoping steps into the clothing store, a slick sales associate with a headset mic slides out from behind a clothing rack and raises his hand. He gives her the most politely disgusted look that money can buy.
"Um, excuse me, but... um, I'm afraid the shop's closed right now?"
He glances over his shoulder, where a possibly familiar woman is looking as blankly at a pair of jeans as someone with their eyes covered by hair can manage.
"It's kind of been reserved. By an important person."
You may be wondering where Takuma Sakazaki is.
If you've read the news at all recently, Takuma Sakazaki was last seen at Costco, where the Sakazaki Cadillac has rested for the past three weeks. Both he and Ryuhaku Todoh have been on the Southtown Police Missing Persons list since this last Wednesday - the Sakazaki family has been accepting donations to fund their search with tearful eyes.
You may also be wondering who that man over there is!!
God, he's burly. Such squared, masculine shoulders have never before been seen stretching a security guard's uniform so thin. Even now he stands with his back to the Women's Fancy Clothes store, eyeing any and all Suspicious People (Foreigners) that happen to pass before him. Teenagers look to him, sneering, leering, but find themselves robbed of their words, their resolve. They wheedle past, hands in their pockets, eyes on the floor, balls on another continent. He is utterly silent. He is Mall Security, personified.
Wing Xiaoping may be stupid.
"What!?"
But she's no fool.
"Closed!?"
She was already agitated enough just walking into this bougie place, her eyes darting back and forth like those of a manic rodent. This confrontation strikes a spark dangerously close to the oil well of her black-ish heart. "I get it," she snarls, the diminutive thugette's eyes flashing. "I see how it is." Has the rise of the proletariat come at last? Will Wing Xiaoping, worker of the world -- and, while a Queen, fundamentally of the Streets -- throw off the shackles of elitist designer oppression? Shall the class war now begin?
"Just because /she/--"
Wing jabs a grubby finger -- okay, it's not actually grubby -- at Shermie, glowering with all the intensity of someone who spends her life pretending as though she doesn't have to look up at everyone.
"--has such big /tits/--"
Whereupon she jabs a finger in the mic-wearing man's face.
"--I don't get to enter the store!"
She was already feeling insecure about her femininity, alright?
"Well, I don't have to take this shit. This is /America/," she proclaims, proudly allowing a profound silence to follow. It's not her fault. Listening to too many Wu-Tang albums can confuse a girl. If not to where she is, then at least where Asia is. They're Asian, right? "I can consume however and /where/ver I want to. Just because she has no eyes with which to combat the predations of the male gaze, thereby transforming her into an ultimately vulnerable and ultimately seductive object of-- of-- objectification," she takes a deep breath, "doesn't mean I'm not a woman too!!"
There's another brief pause.
"So stop talking about it!!"
Needless to say, Polite Disgust is at a loss for words.
While the employee is suitably cowed by the display, nothing really changes because it's hard to acquiesce to assertive demands when you're shrinking backward with your lips curled in disgust at some crazy woman wiggling fingers in your face.
About halfway through Wing's speech, Shermie snakes up from behind another clothing rack, there having been roughly zero seconds between her standing in the background and being here. She pouts thoughtfully while orienting her head in Xiaoping's direction which might be construed as a stare.
"Are we in America?" Shermie turns to look over her shoulder, mouthing her question again. A woman holding several shopping bags looks at her clipboard and then shakes her head 'no.' Shermie shrugs.
"Hello! I am Shermie. I heard you speaking of my breasts and I wished to be involved in this public conversation concerning them for reasons related to my, ah, how do you say in English? 'Suddenly-being-catty-at-loud-angry-girls-being-jealous-of-my-fabulous-tits.'"
Shermie covers her mouth, blushing slightly. "Oh, pardon. I meant to say something about managing public relations but it just came out wrong. It is my second language."
"Just because /she/ has such big /tits/, I don't get to enter the store!!"
The security guard's shoulders visibly tense. His delts, trap, AND lats double in size, presumably fueled by rage and sheer indignition. By the time Shermie's Frenching all over the place, it's all he can do to maintain his position, glare (presumably hellaciously) at oncoming teenagers, and maintain a white-knuckled grip on his ever-present nightstick.
He cannot -stand- french people.
"Ah, sir..." A teenager, approaches the guard, resplendent in whatever the modern fashion is (ass-exposing baggy pants, some kind of sex-worship t-shirt, and gay little bright bracelets). From beneath the brim of his hat, our mall watchman's oily, burning yellow gaze burns *holes* into the youth's expectant countenance.
Wordlessly, the youth rejoins his friends over in the food court.
What--
Wing actually blanches slightly, genuinely startled at how Shermie has appeared right next to her, and further startled that she's been startled. How could this fancy-pants woman sneak up on her? Completely ridiculous. There must be some sort of mistake.
More importantly--
"Uh... wh..."
What the hell language is she speaking!?
"En... English?"
Sure, they teach English in school, if Wing paid attention in class. Sure, she's from Hong Kong, as though her grandpa taught her anything except how to scream obscenities in Cantonese, the best kind of obscenities. She's learned Japanese, alright? It's not like she understands the /lyrics/ to the Wu-Tang songs. Or does she? Does she, in some deep, primal part of her soul? Is there not some way in which meaning can cut through language, across borders and boundaries, such that two people can commune soul to soul.
There is.
"Fuck you!!"
There is a universal language.
Flustered and furious, already deeply embarrassed by her presence here, and seriously wishing she had just gone to Sean John, Wing Xiaoping decides the most satisfying thing to do is just beat them both up and get out of here, and come back tomorrow. Wing subscribes to the Grand Theft Auto philosophy of arrest avoidance, you see. Soon enough, the stars deplete.
"Uurrahhhh!"
WIth a hoarse and unrelenting cry, the small Chinese girl promptly and without hesitation lashes out, with explosive force that sends currents of wind whipping through the air about them, blowing off Polite Disgust's mic and whipping expensive clothes about, and attempts to punch Shermie right in the boobs.
COMBATSYS: Wing has started a fight here.
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Wing 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Shermie has joined the fight here.
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Shermie 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Wing
COMBATSYS: Shermie fails to interrupt Strong Punch from Wing with F Captured.
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Shermie 0/-------/=======|-------\-------\0 Wing
There is a problem with punching Shermie in the boobs.
The problem is that like every single fucking fighter has tried that before. And, like a young child who must learn the ways of a pickpocket to survive on the mean streets, Shermie has become a master at not really caring about the constant tit strikes.
As the vicious (some would say 'strong') punch rockets toward her cleavage, the Frenchwoman frowns expressively. Wing's knuckles find purchase on her sternum, but there is a tactical mistake made!!
With a hand on her hip and a casual rolling of her shoulders, Shermie spins around and sends Wing flying deeper into the mysterious store of feminine danger. Not that this isn't the most inefficient of throws that even a child could land safely from.
"Hey!! That little girl's punching that woman!!"
"DAG DUDE HE HIT HER IN THE TITS"
"Masaki! Watch your mouth!"
"Dude, your mom just made you look like a bitch."
"Shut up, Ryou."
Yes, the sounds of a -*scuffle*- have alerted the Mall Cop to Wing's assault on Shermie, to wit, he's regarding the duo from a Victoria's Secret showcase window. Shermie's face is reflected in the smack center of a lacy woman's bra, while Wing is currently punching through the front panel of the same model's panties.
A lengthy, smooth-edged, bulb-tipped nose extends from those same panties, a malvolent red in color, practically *throbbing* with this particular guard's lack of enthusiasm.
It's a -professional observation-.
"YOU KIDS!" The Mall Cop's voice resounds throughout the mall, shaking observers to their bones, setting faux palm trees to shivering, benches to rattling, babies to spontaneously shitting their diapers. The Mall Cop turns to face both Shermie and Wing, hat wreathing his face in shadows save for the pit-like burning of those malevolent yellow eyes, or the suggestive extension of his virile, red-toned Tengu nose.
"STOP THIS FIGHTING IMMEDIATELY! I, SECURITY OFFICER KARATE, WILL NOT ALLOW FOR ANYBODY TO DISTURB THE PEACE OF MY UNDERWEAR STORES!!!" Security Office Karate brings one hand to his waist, near his nightstick...!!
"HN-GAAAH!" He *THROWS* that hand forward, sending an invisible wave of force ROCKETING towards Wing, who is obviously the tit-puncher. Shermie, as the punchee, is off the hook for now.
COMBATSYS: Takuma has joined the fight here as a boss!
TAKUMA
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0|---------------|---------------
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Shermie 0/-------/--=====|-------\-------\0 Wing
COMBATSYS: Wing blocks Takuma's Ko'ou Ken.
TAKUMA
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0|---------------|------=========
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Shermie 0/-------/--=====|===----\-------\0 Wing
"Aha ha ha ha AHAHHHH--"
Wing should really thank Shermie, more than anything.
Whether she was genuinely hurled by Shermie or just bounced off of her chest is anyone's guess, but, let's face it, the Queen of the Streets goes flying, into a rack of mannequins wearing overpriced whatsits involving far to little fabric to possible require such cost. And this is precisely what spares her the full brunt of the wave of force promptly unleashed by her new screaming foe. Bewildered and unprepared, only having been flung farther away from the intended point of impact gives her enough time to raise her arms in an instinctive defense and absorb the force of that powerful strike. Actually, she only absorbed some of it; the rest is transferred to the mannequin she's slammed into, which promptly crumbles.
"Ohhhhh, crap," she groans, staggering forward and away from the wall, dazed.
She's awakened a boss monster.
"F-Fuck you, too!" is what she manages, before she rallies heroically, turning her gaze away from Shermie, whom she has surely already defeated, to her new mighty threat. "Fuck the police! And authority! And big... red... noses!" She sounds a little hesitant, unsure of herself, but quickly regains her composure. "I'm going to break off that nose--"
She runs, and leaps, body blurring.
"--and stick it right--"
Blurring, and flashing.
"--in your eye!"
Because it's just a shadow of her former self, a kind of chi sheathe, and it bursts like a bubble upon impact, leaving the real Wing crouched several meters away, poised in a rather elegant kung fu stance for the thuggish brawler.
Shermie, scowling, adjusts her jacket. Throwing angry young women around was such a pain on one's wardrobe! Never mind that said Xiaoping is still somewhere in the store, lurking, perhaps planning an assassination attempt on the world's most eligible woman undeserving of her vast wealth.
"Why do Asian girls have to be so dour," she murmurs, fiddling with the buttons on her jacket. "It's not like Chun-li isn't bouncing around enough for half of the Eastern hemisphere."
Before this thought can be properly examined, someone starts screeching and then there's a laser of some sort wooshing past Shermie's head and oh my god look at that nose. The redhead puts her hands on her cheeks, mouth slightly open.
"Oh my! It's so... big!"
COMBATSYS: Shermie gains composure.
TAKUMA
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0|---------------|------=========
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Shermie 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Wing
COMBATSYS: Wing successfully hits Takuma with Monkey Mischief.
-* CRITICAL HIT! *-
TAKUMA
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0|---------------|---============
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Shermie 0/-------/---====|===----\-------\0 Wing
Security Officer Karate has doubtless seen dozens of problem cases in his twenty minute tenure, officially started ever since he'd knocked out Security Officer Akira. A list comes to mind:
% R (1) A young man smiling -flirtatiously- at a young woman, by the fountain.
(2) Two youngers playing a fighting game rather than actually practicing the art of fist-expression.
(3) A group of young ladies more concerned with buying prom dresses than learning self-defense.
(4) A group of young men more concerned with surreptitiously following the group of young ladies more concerned with buying prom dresses than learning self-defense.
(5) A Concerned Mother whose son returned home with a black eye and broken nose.
(6) The Police.
(7) And now this.
He is experienced. He is all KINDS of prepared for whatever Wing Xiaoping has to offer, and if all she's got to offer is a goddamned silly chi-clone running up to claw at his nose...
Security Officer Karate is embraced by Wing Xiaoping's double. Immediately, his arms streak upwards -through- the chi clone, scrabbling at his face much the same as Wing's own attack. It doesn't help; Security Office Karate's beefy fingernails dig into his static expression just as much as Wing's double's do, and in fact worsen the extent of the damage done. Even so...
It's astounding how fast Security Office Karate recovers. Even more astounding is... -his neutrality-.
"YOU THERE! MS. TITS!! I WILL NOT ALLOW FOR COMPLACENCY DURING A TAKEDOWN! HELP ME APPREHEND THIS PERP, OR SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES!"
Security Officer Karate knows no bounds. He lurches forward, perhaps propelled on winds of chi and willpower alone, leg extended in a world-famous flying-kick. If he connects with Shermie, he's follow that first kick up with a second one, *entirely unconcerned* for whatever havoc it might wreak upon her fashion statement of the day.
COMBATSYS: Shermie fails to interrupt Hien Shippu Kyaku from Takuma with F Captured.
TAKUMA
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0|---------------|===============
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Shermie 0/-------/=======|===----\-------\0 Wing
Wing screams.
"Gyyaaaaaaahhhh!"
Just like that.
Certainly, those milling outside this store are already thrown into chaos and confusion at this spontaneous eruption of violence, but Wing asks no questions, finding this ultimate expression of her life frustrations infinitely satisfying. So much does she revel in her fury that her body is trembling as she rises to her feet, hood whipping up behind her as the urbanwear-clad queen raises one trembling feet. There is no glow, no visual sign, but those even slightly sensitive to it can sense the incredible pressure of highly internalized surging power. And if you can't sense it, you'll notice when the glass window of the nearby Victoria's Secret store shatters completely.
"Hyyaaaaggghhhhh!"
Winds have begun to whip about her. Soon also do blouses and panties and bras. It's a veritable lingerie bomb. And it's coming for you.
/Shermie./
"TAKE THIS, YOU BITCH!"
Oh, no, wait, Mr. Karate just flying kicked Shermie, and now he's in the way.
Okay, then, it's coming for you.
/Mr. Karate./
"HYAAAAHH!"
Enter gale-force winds, punctuated with frilly clothing that Wing almost definitely wouldn't look good in. Which just makes her angrier.
Shermie, much like a deer caught in the foot-headlights of a mask-wearing 18-wheeler with hover attachments (to account for the flying part of the kick), stands around with her hands clasped together.
Maybe she thinks the foot is going to dispense candy. Maybe she really can't see anything. Maybe Takuma and Wing are on Punk'd and Ashton Kutcher is going to roll out of the back like a smarmy asshole with a baseball cap and a popped collar and then interrupt someone with a shoryuken because everyone is studying Ansatsuken these days.
Sadly the only thing that happens is that Shermie goes flying through a store window, spinning elegantly through a glittering cloud of glass shards, the back of her hand placed to her forehead. As she is forcefully ejected from the store by the almighty kick of Not Sakazaki, she shouts: "Maybe it is you... who is... the true criminal!"
The mall speakers play a dramatic sting.
COMBATSYS: Takuma overcomes Dragonforce from Wing with Triple Haohshokoken+.
TAKUMA
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0|---------------|-------------==
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Shermie 0/-------/=======|=------\-------\0 Wing
Security Office Karate has no time for Wing's nonsense. Nor does he have time for all of these flagrantly exposed/flying-around bras and panties, but that's another story entirely.
ANOTHER STORY ENTIRELY: Once, Mr. Karate walked down a street in Southtown's as-of-now infamous Red Light District. He was approached by multiple hookers and their pimp, Birdie. Mr. Karate used one of the hookers as a sort of golf-club when he hit Birdie in the face, and it was a PHYS CHI attack because everything inspired by Mr. Karate's rage has CHI properties. You do not fuck with the man.
Wing is fucking with the man; Shermie's just shouting at him. To the latter's exultation and accusation, he posits:
"I AM A CHAMPION OF JUSTICE!!! THIS MALL AND ITS MALLGOERS WOULD BE EXTREMELY VULNERABLE IF NOT FOR ME!" While Mallgoer #7 may beg to differ, what with his black eye, Security Officer Karate has no time for this shit; Wing is attacking him. He can -feel- the chi flowing towards him.
The trees can feel the chi flowing out of them. Promptly, every mallgoer's face loses its enthusiasm, trees (real and plastic) wither, fountains momentarily sputter. An intense golden glow suffuses the air around Security Officer Karate, and as he extends his hands...
Not one, but -three- ENORMOUS golden fireballs shriek forth, eradicating Wing's attack and treating her to a whole new brand of nonsense.
COMBATSYS: Takuma successfully hits Wing with Triple Haohshokoken+.
TAKUMA
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0|---------------|-------------==
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Shermie 0/-------/=======|=======\===----\1 Wing
Oh, my heavens.
The devastation.
It's--
From the burning wreckage of the store behind her, or whatever actually remains of this poor lonesome franchise of the once-magnificent Women's Fancy Clothes, a lone shadow steps. It is small, and slumped. Weakened, and trembling, as though it might fade into nothing. But, backlit by the ebbing golden glow behind it, it remains.
The glow fades, and the shadow brightens.
And Wing Xiaoping, Queen of the Streets, seethes in rage and agony.
"Champion... of... justice?"
That was insane. That was ludicrous. Who is this guy?, is what Wing would be asking if she were in any rational state of mind. Asking while she was already running away. But Wing still has steam to work off. So much steam. So much.
"I... hate... COPS!"
It's close enough.
Surging forward fearlessly, undeterred by the fact that Security Guard Karate is /completely off the chain/, the petite thugette throws herself out of the wasteland of wreckage and mannequin shrapnel and hurls herself into a series of spinning kicks, cutting abruptly through the air in an effort to thwart and punish any attempted interference.
Several side characters that will not be named today rush to Shermie's side. "Shermie!" "Miss Shermie!" "Are you okay?!"
The Frenchwoman achingly sits up, her head lowered and brace in her palm, her other hand raised to ward off the concerned crowd. "No, do not worry. I am not so weak as to be defeated by an old man kicking me through a store window. The show... must go on."
A single tear rolls down her cheek. "And I must secure peace for all of the lingerie that has been wantonly slaughtered this day."
Shermie rises to her feet, taking a few shaky steps toward the melee, where Not Takuma is putting on a laser show and Is Wing responds by kicking wildly like she is a double amputee trying to ward off a swarm of Africanized bees.
As the two clash, Wing downed by the Not Haohshokokens but not out, testing Not Takuma's defenses with her meat from the street, the valiant Shermie blazes through the air, ripping off her jacket.
"YEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" she shrieks, shattering glass and setting off car alarms and causing the ghost of Michael Jackson to spontaneously turn into a panther. Her martyred rack once again sacrifices itself for the good of the mall-- nay, the world.
Only it can bring true peace. Only it is strong enough to carry this burden. Only it could be used in a sentence involving the words 'simultaneously smothering Takuma Sakazaki and Wing Xiaoping to death.' Gathering both of the fighters into her arms, Shermie clutches them close: "Don't fight! I am tripping on I don't even know what drugs and I am very emotional right now! I CAN'T REALLY HANDLE IT AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA."
COMBATSYS: Takuma endures Shermie's F Captured.
TAKUMA
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Shermie 0/-------/=======|=======\=------\1 Wing
COMBATSYS: Takuma interrupts Shaolin Worldwide from Wing with Jab Punch.
TAKUMA
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0|---------------|------=========
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Shermie 0/-------/=======|=======\====---\1 Wing
"Your language... is..." Security Officer Karate has a -tone- to his words, and is very clearly worried about the future of young Wing Xiaoping. Concern rolls off of his baritone voice, and from his well-muscled chest is expelled a veritable wellspring of good intentions. These are all of course wickedly mercurial, and when Xiaoping just starts KICKDANCING at Security Officer Karate, whatever hopes he'd had for remediating her language are dashed to pieces.
Also, Shermie has finished her monologue and thrown her jacket to the winds!! Of the two oncoming threats, Security Officer Karate knows where he must go first - rather than shy away from Shermie's obviously loving embrace, he sticks his head -right between her arm and chest-. Cushioned thusly on the one side, he feels the oncoming damage will be somewhat mitigated; he is correct.
"SECURIGH OGHIGHER KARAGHEY WILL NOGH BE INSULGHEGH BY SUGH IMPUGHENGHE!! TAGHE THIGH!!" Wing Xiaoping, in her approach to the Shermie-snared Karate, will find that she DOES impact the older man's iron-hard abdominals with a forceful kick.
It hurts.
Also Security Officer Karate is hitting her in the face at the same time, guiding her towards Shermie's other arm.
COMBATSYS: Wing endures Shermie's F Captured.
TAKUMA
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Shermie 1/------=/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Wing
There's no escape.
"No... noooo!"
Absolutely none.
"I hate them... I hate them!!"
But her foot hurts too much from kicking Not Takuma in the abdomen to jump out of the way, and besides she's practically airborne anyway. And then Not Takuma is punching her /right in the side of the head/, which is thrusting her directly into Shermie's pretty clearly not loving embrace. There's no way out.
She must face what she fears.
"Get them OUGTH OFH MAH FACHSESHH--"
She must become what she loathes.
Wing struggles wildly for several moments, unabashedly freaking out. Slowly, her moments slow to a crawl. Finally, what sounds vaguely like a strangled sob emerges from the deep valley of her inescapable trap.
"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH"
And then she explodes into fists.
And tries to punch Shermie and Not Takuma with one fist fifty times each.
It lasts about three seconds.
Whereupon.
COMBATSYS: Wing has reached second wind!
TAKUMA
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Shermie 1/------=/=======|====---\-------\0 Wing
Wing continues to stand, bleary, wide-eyed.
Staring at nothing.
She appears to be catatonic.
COMBATSYS: Shermie fails to interrupt Wing Dynasty from Wing with F Captured.
TAKUMA
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Shermie 1/--=====/=======|====---\-------\0 Wing
But the power of the ring could not be undone.
That is the ring that Wing probably stole earlier today.
Shermie frowns as her breasts only breed anger and discontent. This is not how normal, functional people act in this situation. Wing and Not Takuma are clearly broken, possibly suicidal individuals expressing their anger by lashing out at everything good in life.
She pities them up into the point that Wing starts punching her repeatedly. "Ow! Fuck! Stop it!" The Frenchwoman releases the two, backing up and trying to run away, only to find herself unable to avoid the nearly-catatonic Wing too furious and lanky to avoid. "Stop it! Shit! Ow! Your hands are like little mallets made out of knuckles and somehow also foreheads!"
COMBATSYS: Wing successfully hits Takuma with Wing Dynasty.
TAKUMA
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Shermie 1/--=====/=======|====---\-------\0 Wing
Mutliple things are happening. For one, Security Officer Karate is being battered in his ceramic-wrapped face by NO LESS than fifty fists, all of which inspire some measure of cracklin' goodness upon his countenance!! For that matter, Shermie's incredible ability to -compress- shit between her arm and chest has Security Officer Karate choking for breath, hoping *dearly* to gain some element of, I don't know, self-control.
He does so when Wing winds up punching Shermie a whole bunch, inadvertently freeing up both his windpipe and INCREDIBLE VIGOR. The older man, vitriolic with notions of virtue and selflessness, rears his head back, though he is still caught between Shermie's arm and chest!! It is a long rear-back, the sort of thing that in itself necessitates a lengthy slo-mo shot and an undoutable flashb-
FLASHBACK: Takuma and Saishu, caught in an objectively homosexual wrestling embrace. It is the most recent occasion on which Takuma has straddled another man. OBVIOUSLY SECURITY CHIEF KARATE IS PRESENT otherwise this makes no sense, ha ha!
"Hah! Got you now, Saiahu!"
"I'm like an octopus, you asshole!"
"What the hell??!"
*BLOMPF* is the sound of Saishu's head impacting Takuma's chin, and after the recoil, throat.
NOW: Security Officer Karate drives his forehead into Shermie's chest. The effect he imagines is not unlike that of a croquetball; momentum travels between spherical objects. In this case: Shermie -> Shermie -> Wing.
COMBATSYS: Wing endures Takuma's Aggressive Strike.
*KNOCKED AWAY*
TAKUMA
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Shermie 1/--=====/=======|=======\=------\1 Wing
They're just.
That.
Big.
And that's the moral of the story.
Torn from Shermie's grasp, collapsing into a pile of thoroughly ruined clothing and mannequin and the poor guy who once long ago had a microphone headset that he treasured so very much and a look of polite distaste that he had practiced in the mirror, Wing Xiaoping, Queen of the Street, coughs something resembling an obscenity. She honestly don't know what just hit her. She's better off not knowing.
"B... Bastard... maniac..."
She just punched the both of them... so many times. Her conscious mind returning to her after her moment of complete berserk phase-out-of-reality, she realized she unleashed her ultimate technique to spectacular effect and, somehow, they are both standing. It's really unacceptable. Really quite unacceptable.
As she begins to think for too long, it occurs to Wing that /she/ shouldn't be standing.
"Hurk--"
Immediately, she tries to drive this highly unhelpful thought away. With the only thing that can: pure, unbridled rage. "Gwaaaughh!" she screams in fury, and forgetting entirely her original adversary and the person through which was just waged a proxy war, so to speak, she pounces upon Not Takuma, trailing flashing images of herself that all aim to impact one by one against him, bursting bubbles of chi-self that finish at last in the real, raging, slavering, furious Wing.
Whereupon.
COMBATSYS: Wing can no longer fight.
TAKUMA
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Shermie 1/--=====/=======|
She falls over.
COMBATSYS: Shermie interrupts Aggressive Strike from Takuma with F Captured.
?!? Weird Hit! ?!?
TAKUMA
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Shermie 1/--=====/=======|
COMBATSYS: Shermie can no longer fight.
TAKUMA
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Shermie, somehow keeping on her feet despite dragging Not Takuma around like he's a rag doll, is in no condition to challenge any further attempts to bring war upon her sovereign shores. When the forces of Not Takuma's forehead invade, the only thing the long-suffering French girl can think is 'thank you for not being that scruffy girl's forehead.'
Wing goes flying away, launched by the unadulterated power of Shermie, Who Will This Time Be Playing For Keeps. Before the Queen of the Street can mount a counterassault, cartoon physics come into play; the freedom fighters of Shermienia come bouncing back from their initial defeat, leading a two pronged assault and okay long story short Takuma gets hit right in the face with a tit and no one is very happy about this outcome because he's still wearing that mask with the stupid nose.
"Aghghhhhh," Shermie moans, stumbling through the exit, arms clutched over her chest. "I-I think the drugs are wearing off--"
NEXT TIME ON THE EXCELLENT ADVENTURES OF SHERMIE: Shermie finds an ice machine and jumps chest-first into it while sobbing.
COMBATSYS: Takuma interrupts K.R.E.A.M from Wing with Triple Haohshokoken+.
TAKUMA
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COMBATSYS: Takuma has ended the fight here.
Security Officer Karate, caught in a Frenchwoman's desperate continuation of a tit-squeeze!! While he deals with the extravagance wrapped 'round his head, Security Officer Karate is not beholden to the concerns of those around him; his only fear is Wing, and even she is on her last ropes. The attack, something resplendent in chi, agility, and simple -resolve- is met with yet another earth-shattering shout from Officer Karate; his very yellowed pupils shake with the veracity of his intention!!
He stands upright, Shermie momentarily lifted over his head at a right angle, as though she were a marionette or something like it - this is not important. What is important is Security Officer Karate's -posture-, his hands at his side, the intense volume of chi generated between them. In the face of that expertly gathered fighting energy from Wing, her opponent has sheer, overwhelming Earthen energy to offer; it comes in the form of three fireballs. Certainly, such could not inspire a spontaneous flashb-
FLASHBACK:
SAISHU: Three is too many.
TAKUMA: It feels right.
GOUKEN: Not enough fireballs.
Log created on 00:50:35 12/15/2010 by Wing, and last modified on 21:27:32 12/16/2010.