Asahishoubu - Asahi - A New Dawn

Description: The sun rises over Sunshine City. Here to see it rise once again is the Risen Phoenix, who from his perch may gaze down with satisfaction, more or less, as his good works begin to take effect, more or less, and the restorations of Outer Sunshine commence. And there would be none better to share this moment with than with young fellow psychics, who have started out on a path that Alma himself once tread. His scars will show them the danger of a life lived to its fullest, and beyond -- but perhaps his example will show that some risks are worth taking. His road has come to its end, and he seeks a new path. Their stories are just beginning.



The sky has been set aflame.
Only his silence and the nobility of his stance attests to Alma Towazu's heartfelt satisfaction. From the rooftop of the Sunshine 60, the tallest edifice in Sunshine City, the fullness of the struggling urban dystopia can be seen, experienced-- and appreciated. One need not see with the eyes of man to know and to feel that great works are being striven for in small ways, efforts insignificant in isolation. His contentment is not an issue of credit or blame. No, where for other men the notion of 'responsibility' smacks of burdens, Alma, whose power might otherwise lead him to transcendence or otherworldly eternals, in perceiving the thrum of activity that is beginning to renew Sunshine's dilapidated shell feels his breast swell. Within his heart, new tethers to the world are being tied, new bonds of fate and solidarity.
It is an affirmation of his path: not to walk away.
The credit, if any, goes to those who below him are fighting even now for a better future, the participants and the volunteers. Not all of them know what they do; but in taking part in the design that Alma has envisioned, they serve their community nevertheless. Insofar as such a design is the limit of Alma's abilities -- his charisma, his courage, his strategy -- it is also, perhaps, the fullness of his self-expression. He believes now, stronger even than before, when he made his decision atop this roof.
To save that which is close to him is to save himself.
And such fulfillment--
Slowly, as though not of his own volition, he extends his hand toward the edge.
--is, indeed, salvation from the darkness.

And his hand shimmers with glittering white flame, streaked with dark and light sheds of ruby red, like some scintillating jewel with which to banish the shadows of the alleys below.
His volunteers, of course, like most people, know better than to disturb Alma when he is in such a reverie, not because of any consequence but simply because of such an arresting, picturesque sight he inevitably makes of himself. (Especially when those soulflames come out, which, let's face it, they usually do.) His back is turned to the rest of the roof, where a few final volunteers toil to ensure it is spotless and a small but sizable audience is entering from below -- the population of this high-rise, mostly impoverished families with young children, eager for this special treat -- and the rest recline to enjoy the sunrise. In this manner, the tall and elegant ex-model exudes a kind of enigmatic poise, his frame sheathed in a slim-cut light-weight suit of charcoal grey, the white of his tailored dress shirt visible around his collar, his dark dress shoes polished beneath the cuffs of his slacks. Though those behind him cannot now see, that dress shirt is mostly unbuttoned, exposing the seared-in seal of the Ryouhara Clan unashamed to the sun. His face, though finely proportioned as ever, is wildly discolored, its burnished bronze skin tarnished with paler and darker hues, though the texture seems to have reverted at last to smoothness. But it is an appearance that on another man would be inarguably grotesque. On Alma, who in his natural otherworldliness is capable of making it seem striking, another person's reaction to his appearance cannot be anticipated. Suffice to say--
He bears his burdens well.
The flames about his hand fade, the powerful psychic emanations of righteousness and profound contentment dissipating slightly as he smiles mildly to himself and tilts his head to glance over his shoulder. As his mind returns to earthly matters, he recalls again that he's very curious about these young women.
He sent for them personally.

Miu has never been asked for by name before. Although she had been approached by Rose, rather than the other way around, that was, different. Somehow, it had felt right. This, was less certain. The gothy girl has felt conflicted about actually coming here. Alma's exploits are legendary, but she didn't truly know what to make of the man. She'd never met him, and by virtue of this fight, she was going to be seen by entirely too many people for her liking. Being at the center of attention has never been a comfortable place for Miu. It's not that she dislikes people, she just, doesn't want them getting in her way. She has important business, important people relying on her.

As she emerges onto the rooftop, her eyes move in a subdued fashion. Turning first over the sunset, looking to her like a portent of the incredible conflict to come, all flames and fire and the promise of death. Then, to the city laid out underneath them. The prize that was at the center of this conflict. Ironic, that all those taking part are fighting for the betterment of the city, whilst the city itself struggles to remain squalid and corrupt. In truth, she couldn't stand by and let it remain so... unfortunate. She had to do something, didn't she?

Finally, her eyes turn to Alma, and in him, she sees... so many things.

Miu walks alone this evening, without even her usual ravenly compatriots. Her expression is emotionless. Carefully controlled, an unbreakable mask behind which her confusion rages. It is an amusing thing, something which many Japanese girls likely project, which would confuse amateur psychics. There is nothing in her bearing to betray her feelings, no hint of anything but the easiest calm despite her burning curiosity; too unconcerned, even, to be called rigidly formal, as her arms hang loose at her sides, and glowing white feathers begin to drop, slowly, from her sleeves.

Only two words are given to Alma, as detached, bored eyes finally deign to meet his own. The lightest hint of acknowledgement.

"Mr. Towazu."

Sunshine City is beautiful.
Not in the manner of the rainforest, or clouded mountain peaks. Nothing like the gentle, burbling stream winding through the tree-clad countryside... no. There is a beauty in this urban sprawl that defies such natural phenomena, inherent in the endless endeavours of those human beings that dwell within - from the simplest working man to the most stalwart-hearted of the local fighters, it is present in backbone and defender alike. The people of Sunshine are a testament to the trials and tribulations that our race has overcome, but they are also a perfect example of the sadness in the world; that such wonders can be overlooked.
But is there not also beauty in sadness?
Annie Murakami is new to the city, as she is new to all cities in this bustling modern world. To say that she is nervous about this personal invitation from the famous Alma Towazu - whose fame she only discovered /after/ receiving the missive signed by his flowing hand - would be the grossest of understatements. Her confidence in her abilities has already been challenged, and now she is called to arms by a warrior who others speak of in awed tones? It's almost too much for the poor girl. It's just as well that her soft exterior belies such a bold inner spirit, that her joyous demeanour is the projection of a spirit burning with fierce, compassionate strength...
Perhaps this is what Alma has recognised. Perhaps he is merely curious. There is no way for the little blonde psychic to know, though it is the subject keen upon her lips as she makes her way up the stairs of this towering monument to human endeavour, a small black shape hopping lightly up the steps behind her.
"What do you think all of this means, Qui-zi? After all the things he has been through, and everything he's achieved, why would he want to meet us? And why would he want to meet Miu Kurosaki?" Dabbing a dainty finger against her bottom lip, the girl makes it to the top of the stairs some moments after the crow maiden has already arrived, darting a concerned frown back to her beloved pet as she reaches for the heavy metal handle upon the rooftop access. "Could he be one of those the elders warned me about? Qui-zi, you're so quiet..."
Removing her hand from the door, Annie squats down, folding her arms across her lap as she comes face-to-face with the feline. Two sets of amber eyes bore intently into one another. "Don't you worry about me." The girl nods her head, lips pulling up into a broad smile of unsurpassing warmth. Lifting a hand, she strokes the cat atop the head, offering her fingertips then for a return nuzzle. "Everything's going to work out okay, I promise! We'll help Towazu-san to help all of these people, because that's what /he's/ promised."
Pushing down the flicker of doubt in her heart, she rises and turns away from her companion, pushing open the door and stepping out onto the rooftop. The sunlight strikes her slender, feminine figure as she stands framed there for a moment, inhaling deeply of the air and looking out over her two fellow psychics. And then the breath catches in her throat. Miu she is familiar with - she was expecting the sensation of the other girl's soul, and even the sad loneliness from deep within. But Alma...
"He's..." She sways in place, dumbstruck as her delicately tuned psychic senses are almost overwhelmed by the scarred yet statuesque figure standing upon the edge of the edifice. Upon the very precipice of the world, he communicates flawlessly without speaking. He wears his heart upon his sleeve - and she can see it oh so very clearly. Annie bites down on her lip, shaking her head and stepping forward as she breaks the spell.
~He's wonderful, Qui-zi!~
"It is an honour to meet you, Towazu-san." Is what she finally says as she draws near, her heavy boots clumping against the ground as she comes to a stop and drops into a low bow - far lower than would ever be expected by normal etiquette. She straightens up with a furtive smile, reaching up to the back of her neck with one hand as she gestures around the roof with the other, "They never told me it would be this high! It's a little scary!"
She seems to be babbling. And is consciously avoiding Miu's gaze.
~I've never felt anybody like him before...~

Alma's smile widens.
Despite his evident refinement, there is a boyish cast to his expression, making obvious at once that -- for all his achievements and endeavors -- he is hardly much older than the two of them. "Ms. Kurosaki, Ms. Murakami." He turns to each of them in turn, and for a moment, all else is forgotten. The environment, though so arresting, blurs into effervescent swirls in his second sight; his heart fulminates a pulsing beat, demanding that he spurn his earthly senses to revel in the vibrancy of this ethereal vision. The beauty that surrounds them is just background, a stage, what guides their souls to greater glory. The earth does not constrain them. Were he madder or darker, such evidence that his mind presents might suggest that this world about them is thus merely fodder, to be consumed in the exaltation of their unique spirits. He has never gone so far. Or rather--
"I am so grateful you have come."
He has gone in the opposite direction.
Their world is the palette from which the colors of their souls have been painted. Within each of them, the rays of the sun seem to mingle in warm yellows and reds, forming a common ground of joyous tranquility. Beyond even the keenness of his senses, it is this moment they share that allows Alma to cut through to the center of their auras, to perceive their wills unmitigated, and to share his as openly as he strives to. Annie's aura is almost childlike in its spiritedness, possibly too open, possibly vulnerable; Miu's aura is resilient with the heart of someone who must bear secrets to defend that which she loves. Yet both are determined, both are resolute, both willingly bear their crosses. Each of them strike Alma as equally sincere.
"Even now... I've spent so little time with those of my kind."
It is a frank acknowledgement, and a little surprising coming from him. Alma is known to have traveled the world with other figures whose growth has occurred within the public eye -- the Chi Sage Frei, the Stray Dog Jiro -- but never sought the company of other psychics, never seemed to regard his power as special other than in how it represented his own esoteric but heartfelt philosophical vision. (Which, of course, he was always happy to expound upon.) He does not sound lonely when he says it.
"Other than Rose-sensei... we psychics rarely work together."
But he does sound gratified.
He knows there are exceptions to this rule, having been acquainted with Kensou long ago, but his mild eyes soften as his gaze shifts from Miu's guarded face to Annie's shining eyes, and back again. "Our power is a private one," he murmurs, his voice carrying through the morning air, "and its origins within the world are not easily explained. Like humanity itself, it has arisen with capabilities -- and with needs -- that, even if intelligible, are not clearly visible in from whence it came." His smile is gentle; his words are speculative, soft, hardly a lecture. More a... confession. "Emotion, language, the desire for sense and meaning -- these may exist in the world around us, or they might be especially human. I cannot say. But I do know that only humans most obviously possess them, and in that manner they come to not only define humanity, but represent it."

He raises his hand once again, relaxed, fingers spread.
"I believe this to be true of psychic power as well."
Though no power is visible, thrums of energy begin to pulse through the world around them. Floodgates are being open. The sea of flame within his soul is being stoked, yearning for release with their mere presence.
"We are far from the only champions of humanity," he continues, a light in his eyes brightening as a certain passion can no longer be restrained within his voice, "but our terrifying power is its own responsibility. I have heard of both your struggles, seen your resolution." He's exaggerating a little there, perhaps, but he is a man who trusts fully his intuitions -- and his intuitions are in their favor. Plus, Miu's in King of Fighters, and that's resolution right there. "I want to be of aid to both of you, in whatever you require. By our very natures, we are already allies."
Because they are psychics; because they are human.
"So together, let's take our souls..."
A faith in an uncertain ideal, unweakened by his trials.
"...to their limits."
They can feel it, a split-second before it occurs. Then his eyes flash, his hand closes, and an effervescent power erupts around him, a shining light expanding like a halo about his body, the air rippling as in a great heat. Within him, barely audible, a great conflagration is burning, burning.
Burning eternally.

COMBATSYS: Alma has started a fight here on the left meter side.

COMBATSYS: Alma opens his heart to the flow of battle.

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Alma             0/-------/------=|


Miu has rarely felt as... energized as she does now. Even before the focusing of Alma's power becomes visible, the girl feels sweat building on her brow. It is, intense. Though she would never verbalize it, even Rose hadn't seemed as... overtly powerful as Alma does to her. Rose's strength had been quiet, reserved, mysterious even. She had no idea what to make of the gypsy woman, though she was honored to have been picked. Alma's words are taken for what they are; he is a man trying to understand himself, and where he stands in relation to the rest of the world. Miu should know that feeling. It is the very puzzle at the heart of her brother's sickness, she believes, and the one obstacle standing between her and everything she wants from life.

There is no doubt in her mind that Alma is much closer to finding the answer to that riddle, if it even eludes him still.

Subconsciously, though, even Miu's reclusive spirit is spoiling for a fight. She steps forwards, and her power answers Alma's, shimmering white feathers joined by ones so deep as to be an impenetrable darkness. Both types flow in equal measure as she calls on herself, willing her heart not to fail her now. Rose had been quick to clarify that she was *not* the 'mascot' of the team, despite her inexperience. That she was a fully fledged member of the team. That she would be treated as an equal.

It is time to prove that she is worthy of that honor.

"Annie." She murmurs, "Do not rush. Keep your cool. Do not let him... excite you." Her eyes refuse to be budged from Alma's, challenging him to make the first move, to show her what it is that his soul is capable of. His body bears the marks of a life hard-lived, so unlike Rose's flawless grace, Alma's is a scarred beauty. She would not make the mistakes she did against her tutor!

"In the end, this is a test of our potential. It will be forged... in the heat of battle!"

That may just be the most words drawn out of the raven-haired girl's lips before a fight. Miu is not known for being particularly verbose, but each word is heartfelt. The power of mankind, the limits of their souls, these are things that Miu /needed/ to learn about. But she would learn nothing if she let this tumult of emotion overwhelm her into making the wrong decision! She would trust in her mind to guide her, over the heart that yearned to throw her into battle carelessly.

COMBATSYS: Miu has joined the fight here on the right meter side.

COMBATSYS: Miu focuses on her next action.

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Alma             0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0              Miu


The words that Alma speaks, it is clear that they should be driven to the very core of both girls' beings - taken to their respective hearts and used to fuel a future that is brighter and more wondrous than any that has yet been promised the world. Annie's power is potent in depth, as is Miu's; and beyond this, they may prove to be two fitting pieces of a grander puzzle. The little blonde can already feel, deep in her soul, that their destinies will somehow be entwined together, and the part of her able to focus beyond the beacon of righteous purity suspects that this may be the day this bond is first made.
~And yet...~
This incredible boy-become-man catches her eye, and her pupils dilate as a shiver runs up her spine. What comes next should resonate within her, dispelling the ill omen given her by the first friend she has made in this sprawling, delirious outer world. She is not one to be humbled by the beliefs of others - and nor is she one to be afraid of her own power. It is not 'terrifying' to Annie, because she believes that she understands it, and she does accept her burden. Gladly. She takes pride in it, knows that her ultimate purpose will be one worth living for.
But for all her determination and courage, Annie is not the saviour that this world needs. Whatever she come to be, in the here and now she is simply not equipped for the task. Not yet. Because as Alma draws his emboldening speech to a close, she feels the awe-inspiring shout of his soul. Feels it so well that she can see it rise before her, a pillar of flame ensorcelled by hope.
~And yet...~
She swallows, taking a sidelong glance at Miu, eyes wide and imploring.
~I can barely understand a word he's saying...~
She has never met Rose, has not the awareness of the wider world that her fellow psychics possess. Esoteric knowledge and an awareness of your own, singular purpose is one thing - but it is like staring down a tunnel. There is nothing more to see, until one emerges out into the light. Annie is but one part of a grander scheme, and it is only now that she has come even close to realising the full scope of it. There are more than Dragons in this world; she knows this, because even now she stares upon her Phoenix.

~What should I say? ...Qui-zi?~
The blonde's gaze seeks out her companion, only to see her curled calmly upon the rooftop, watching Towazu with the dispassionate intellect that only a cat could manage in this situation. A hand straying to the cross about her neck, Annie nervously picks it up and pulls it up to her lips, biting down on the cold metal. It's the first time she has ever felt unable to open the floodgates of speech; and she begins to blush before Miu's words break through with the insistent, soothing cool of a winter's breeze.
"Miu Kurosaki!" She spits it out in a rush, looking to the other girl with expression an utter betrayal of her emotions - even if they were not readily apparent by grace of their powers, they would be so now. But as she stares at her composed counterpart, the meaning of those words seem to reach her. Even Alma's. His final words ring out again, in her mind, in enthusing tandem with the final words of Miu herself.
If Annie's heart were beating rapidly before, it is now a pounding wardrum.
And yet...
It serves to draw her together, the awkwardly scattered pieces of her soul fusing much like the clarion call of her compatriots. Annie shifts her attention back to Alma with a whip of that pretty head, ringleted pigtails swishing about as her amber eyes flare with an echo of Alma's own soulfire. She raises her hands before her, drawing slender fingertips into twin fists. There is no display of her own power - not outwardly - but that wellspring of energy deep within begins to shine brighter and fiercer than it ever has before.
"I am ready, Kurosaki-san!" She calls out to her fellow, nodding her head as she sinks a little deeper into her heels, tensing the flexible yet firm muscle of her legs. "Towazu-san!" She narrows her eyes, mouth forming a solemn line as she finally speaks free from her initial loss of reason - though it is still there in the warm glow upon her cheeks, and in the spark he has ignited within. "I believe in your vision, I believe in /you/, but I will not hold back! From up here, together..."
Suddenly springing forward, she breaks into a graceful dash across the rooftop, covering the last few feet in a low lunge toward Alma. Her left hand rises as she stands before him, sweeping toward the bared skin of his chest as a crackling burst of sumptuous violet light explodes from her fingertips, streaming out in an arc. "Let us be a guiding light!"

COMBATSYS: Annie has joined the fight here.

COMBATSYS: Alma dodges Annie's Zuum.

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Alma             0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0              Miu
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/------=|


He can't wait any longer.
Even as Alma's heart stirs so vigorously as to repress his conscious mind altogether, in reflection he must acknowledge, with some good humor and grace, that Miu Kurosaki's advice was quite apt. The feather-strewn girl is certainly intelligent, as well as perceptive: the passion welling within him would demand he approach them, and even with all his discipline and resolve, to do otherwise would feel a betrayal of his own spirit, and undermine him far more than any reckless strategy. Conviction and passion can make a man predictable. Alma, for all his strength and wealth of experience, can be so predicted, as Kagero recently proved.
But Annie Murakami gives him what he needs.
"Yes!"
Alma is grinning now, his composure ceding way to a spirit he cannot contain; perhaps it is even Annie's close proximity that, in his psychically open state, compels the otherwise mild-mannered young man to express himself so visibly. His exultant cry is both in appreciation of her tremendous trust and in admiration of her determination, and though he keenly sweeps to the side as she reaches out for him, brushing his hand against her arm as he redirects the energetic blonde's motion, he does not leap away. He could not bear to retreat from these opponents, not in any fashion--
"Ms. Murakami, prepare yourself!"
But if he is to express himself fully, he cannot be reckless.
His feet are light atop the roof; the hue and cry of the enthusiastic audience is as white noise amidst the blur that is the world around him. He senses rather than seeing, he resonates with his universe rather than discerning it. With such adversaries, he may well be at his best. In a blur, his hand will streak down to chop at her back as she passes; in a sudden stroke, his knee will rise in an effort to impact directly against the circle of her midriff exposed by her slinky dress. The combination, if it connects, is liable to stun her and leave her breathless, momentarily incapacitated so that Alma is posed to deal with his next opponent.
He can tell already that Annie has much to learn, and that Miu is the more potent threat, but neither of them--
"Don't hold back even the slightest!"
--can be taken lightly.

Holding back is not something Miu has in mind, that much is for certain! Concentrating with a steely intensity, she isn't surprised that Annie charges forwards... nor is she surprised that it doesn't work. But that is just the beginning, and she knows that she and Annie will need to work together if they are going to come out of this victorious.

So as Alma comes down, Miu comes forwards. Skating on a thin white trail of psycho power, dozens of feathers in her path. Many people mistook Miu's reserve for dispassion; it is an impression she works hard to cultivate. But it would be difficult to see anything but furious determination in the girl's eyes right now. Her features aren't neutral, they are intensely focused. She would not allow herself to fail.

Her hand leads the way, and she aims to snare Alma by the front of his dress shirt. If she can do this, she'll lift the man bodily above her head. For a moment, he'd stay there, as the feathers stop flowing...

And then he'd be engulfed in a large spike of feathers, the psychic lance of black and white force burning with her pride, her passion and her will. If it all goes according to plan, he will, too, be sent flying up into the air. No more words at all from the reserved young Japanese girl, it seems. Just that hard core of determination not to fail. And hopefully, to provide the opening needed for Annie, too!

COMBATSYS: Annie blocks Alma's Combo Attack.

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Alma             0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0              Miu
[    \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/----===|


There was no way she could have prepared for this. All the lecturing and reading in the world would not have given Annie Murakami the tools she needed to keep her cheery composure instant when presented before the Phoenix. This close, the flame of his soul is almost physically painful - and not because it repels her. She may not be a martial powerhouse, but the blonde is deeply sensitive in a way that few other psychics are. She has been honed for this purpose, but she has not been exposed to anything like Alma.
She will do as he asks though. She will do it for him, but not for him alone...
~This is for all of you. The start of my new life. I will be strong!~
The initial strike is made flawlessly, striking the supple curve of the girl's back as she rushes past the scarred prince. His blow does not stagger her; rather, she borrows the momentum it gives her, her lashing hand already returning to her fore as she turns with a prodigy's amateur grace, bringing both palms together at her abdomen. Alma's knee does expel the air from her lungs - but it comes in a controlled fashion as she absorbs the blow.
~No matter how strong Towazu-san is, this is only the beginning!~
Driven back in spite of her motions, the slender psion takes a moment to gauge the situation as she draws her throbbing hands up to a guarding position. Her amber eyes glisten with the rush of battle as she watches Miu close in and display her copious talents - and deliver a burst of her impressive power to their opponent. The man they must fight, she knows, not simply for charity... but because this destiny is theirs. Annie cannot look into the future, but she can feel the significance of this day. This moment. She smiles.
"I will give you my all, Towazu-san!" Tossing her head, throwing the bangs from her eyes, she takes a step forward and sinks, before leaping clear into the shafts of sunlight streaming from the sky. The rays warm her, emboldening her spirit, reminding her why she lives - why she fights - why she is. The tight material of her dress flexes and crinkles as she lashes a leg upward, carrying a heavy boot aloft for a mid-air collision with the airborne form of Alma.

COMBATSYS: Alma blocks Miu's Grasping Yomo.

[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Alma             0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0              Miu
[    \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/----===|


COMBATSYS: Alma interrupts Light Kick from Annie with Divine Intervention EX.

[    \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Alma             0/-------/--=====|-------\-------\0              Miu
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/=======|


He can feel it -- feel them beginning to work as one.
Alma grits his teeth lightly as a focused and intent Miu rushes towards him, knowing that though Annie has felt the impact of his blows she will recover quickly. His attention thoroughly split between the two of them, he must do whatever he can to unite his vision, and allow himself to react as a whole to the patterns on the battlefield. The potency of their auras makes it, in fact, easier for him.
Briefly, he actually closes his eyes.
"Hmn!"
And then, in a swift and smooth single motion, one arm sweeps up to parry Miu's outstretched grasp. He can feel her power building, but knows also that Annie will be coming up behind him; seeking to control his own movements, he willingly enters into their range by jumping high. Rather than being thrust into the air, he enters of his own volition, and thereby has the time and space required to brace himself for Miu's psychic surge. The hand with which he parried snaps out, the scarred beauty's eyes afire with intensity, and he meets the manifestation of Miu's passion and pride head-on, the feathers bursting around him as his own mighty will utterly disperses her attack. He is already turning as he does so, no longer needing to look to know he is prepared to take that assault of Miu's, and so when Annie plunges in--
"Then..."
Though airborne, he is facing her straight on, smiling slightly.
"I must do the same!"
He parries her lashing kick with his other arm -- his off-hand -- and their bodies collide briefly, harmlessly, the pigtailed girl bumping into his sealed chest. His right hand, with which he deflecting Miu's attack, is already shimmering with gathered power, and only a split-second passes as Annie begins to drift in the opposite direction before his hand fluidly snakes out. Almost gently, his palm is placed upon her midriff -- conveniently, and I assure you accidentally, onto the bare skin exposed by the low keyhole in her dress, as though it were a gateway into her soul -- and a beam of light at once pierces through, throwing the brunt of Alma's being against the girl's will, the force aiming to cast her down to the ground and away from the melee.
When he alights, he will land close to Miu, expecting that Annie will need some time to recover. He cannot fully judge the limits of her resolve yet; she may not yet have experienced power such as that expressed so directly. But seeming to anticipate that she will not attack again straight-away, he turns his attention entirely to the dark-haired girl, his aura redolent with courage and conviction.

Miu is surprised by the ease with which her attack is turned aside. Perhaps she should not be. Regardless, she is not going to allow herself to remain off-balance for long! Although she dearly wishes she could have prevented Alma's display of power... lamenting the past will not help achieve the outcome that they both desire. No, she has no doubt that Alma is going to make this as difficult as he can for them. It would be insulting to do otherwise. All of them would need to give it everything they had if they were going to get the advantage over the other, and that is the thought guiding her actions as she stamps down on the roof, and aims to close the distance with the scarred man once more.

This time, it is a dark path that she carves towards Alma, and her fist glows, roaring bright white with her power!

This is a feint, as it is her leg which leads the true attack. Cutting a dark scythe upwards at the last moment, she aims to slash diagonally across Alma's torso. The raven-haired psychic really is remarkably athletic, as well as having that wellspring of inner power, and this is something she intends to put completely on display now.

Glowing white fingers aim to curl in Alma's hair as she jumps. If she can manage this, she'll bring him with her as she falls, twisting, to bring the elder psychic to the ground. Regardless of whether or not she succeeds, she's already trying to get away and put distance between herself and Alma; continuing to skate on that dark surface. She's hoping that she can start to get Alma's attention herself, but she's not so foolish as to want to stand still long enough for him to get a clear hit. If he is going to try and hit /her/ with that intense power, she's going to want as much warning as possible!

There is, notably, no real indication of her concern for her teammate in her actions. Yes, she felt bad for Annie ... but keeping pace had to take priority over petty sentimentality, didn't it?

Annie can only gasp.
~This is...~
His hand presses to her warm, pale skin.
~Alma Towazu?~
Blistering soulfire pierces to the very heart of her being, causing a shudder to wrack her body - which suddenly feels so exposed and tender, soft and yielding before the ministrations of this impossibly glorious being. But it is not simply the feeling of rapture that grips her, and there is pain too; concealed within the whirling, vibrantly coloured spirit-haze that floods her. Annie's gasp becomes a scream, feminine and scared, before she is flung away toward the flat, hard rooftop. She bounces twice before drifting to a halt, lying upon her side with a quivering hand bracing her as best it can.
"I will not be afraid," she murmurs, seeming at first to address herself alone before she looks up and across at the feline seated nearby. Exhaling, forcing back the dizzy feeling that threatens to turn her legs to jelly and her fortitude to syrup, she pushes herself up and into a low crouch. Keeping one eye upon her friend and foe as the other remains attentive to her pet. "I will remember who I am, and what I must do. I /will/ be strong, Qui-zi."
"Mrowl," Qui-zi replies wisely, wide slitted eyes staring up at her mistress. This seems to deepen Annie's resolve, and she draws in a deep, deep lungful of air - chest rising and falling beneath the clinging fabric of her dress. Her hands clasp to fists and come together before her, pushing firm against one another in the very instant that an explosion of pure soul-power erupts from within the slender girl. White light pierces her breast and spreads outward in a searing bloom, edged in glorious violet as it burns into a frayed crucifix.
~There is so much power here, but there is love too.~
Even in Miu Kurosaki. Especially in her.
~I shall share mine!~
Amber eyes find Alma and lock on, gazing at him calmly for the very first time. And then they so gently close, a sweet smile brushing Annie's lips as she continues to focus. The full depth of her soul is borne for her fellows to see; kind, compassionate, naive and beautiful. She seems to reach out across the rooftop and beyond, her awareness growing and extending as she opens herself completely - not just to the flow of battle, but to the hearts and minds of those she fights with and alongside. If she could, she would even reach out to Sunshine City itself.

COMBATSYS: Annie gathers her will.

[    \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Alma             0/-------/--=====|-------\-------\0              Miu
[         \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            1/----===/=======|


COMBATSYS: Alma dodges Miu's Charged Combo.

[    \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Alma             0/-------/--=====|-------\-------\0              Miu
[         \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            1/----===/=======|


Alma's hand is tingling.
For a crucial moment he pauses, his soul's song growing silent, and in a sweet interlude glances down at where his palm brushed Annie's belly, a rare moment of intimate contact between psychics. Faintly, a small flush graces his high cheekbones and discolored skin. The presence of so much strong feeling is simply too stirring. He can hardly--
But he does, and not a moment too soon.
His gaze snaps up, his eyes flickering and only for a second betraying his surprise as Miu plunges in at unprecedented speed, gliding across the roof like a gracefully soaring bird, as though those feathers were her own. In a moment of well-practiced psychic expertise, Alma thrusts one palm out as she closes in, not having the time to throw himself aside and away from her oncoming kick, and seems to literally /push/ himself backward against the air, projecting an invisible force. That kind of momentum control is natural to a trained psion, and it allows him to slide backward without losing his balance or even shifting his body, taking him just out of reach of that oncoming kick. Nevertheless, he does not anticipate her unconventional follow-up.
"Oh--"
Blinking as Miu's hand grasps a handful of his blond, ruby-tinged locks, this time he moves with her, giving way and using his maintained balance to leap willingly where she might have thrown him. As a result, he is fully prepared for the impact -- moreover, he is already rolling in the direction that she is attempting to slide away in, cutting off her escape.
"I won't let you go!"
The dual-natured assertion takes on a whole new force as Alma quite literally erupts from the ground, all at once his legs alight with a pearly flame streaked with cherry-blossom pink and royal indigo. He scythes out with a kick of his own, starting low even as he leaps in an effort to sweep Miu's legs out from under her; if he can get her off the ground, he will spin into two more powerful kicks, fierce and unrelenting.

COMBATSYS: Miu dodges Alma's Rising Fury.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Alma             0/-------/---====|-------\-------\0              Miu
[         \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            1/----===/=======|


Miu, again, finds herself surprised by how easily Alma moves with her. It's as though he already knows what she's doing before she does it! This is more than a little unnerving. When she becomes aware of the fact that he is coming in at her, though, the girl suddenly stops skating on her power, letting her feet touch the harsh surface of the roof again.

Alma goes low, and Miu leaps high. Arching her back, bright flames pass within inches of where her legs are, scything through where they had been with perfect precision. She touches down again on the other side of Alma, and jumps backwards, straightening as she does. She had managed to evade that attack, but it had been far too close for comfort. Alma's techniques are wonderful to behold, staggeringly well timed and executed... despite herself, she can't help but admire them. If she had allowed even the slightest error to creep into her defense, she would have been in for a world of pain.

Those feathers have still been flowing, of course. And in a sudden blur, she spins once on the spot. One word suddenly whispered, seeming to come across quite audibly despite the characteristically subdued nature of it:

"Annie."

And to back it, two bright white feathers lance out of her sleeve, a third, darker one following on the second rotation. The trio aim to catch Alma in the middle, each one packing a stinging, numbing bite to them. If one thing has been made abundantly clear by now, it is that Miu is not hesitant in using that deep inner power. In fact, although her techniques could use some refinement, when it comes to raw power, she doesn't seem in any danger of running out no matter how much she tries to throw at the more experienced psion.

Miu speaks her name.
"Power..."
Annie voices what she feels, her eyes lidding, becoming narrowed honey-brown slits that burn yet more vibrantly with the shout of her soul. As her innermost sense encircles the battle, she comprehends Alma and Miu without truly watching them, allowing the very sensation of their shared existence to inform and guide her. His attack, and her evasion, appear in her mind as a whirl of colours and movement - indistinct in theory, but in principle conveying the totality of their beings. It seems to happen so slowly, to her, as the psychic thunder rises above her slender form. A guiding light.
~Is this how he always feels?~
The wonderment causes her gaze to widen, her posture to subtly rise as she is drawn back to the mundane - or what is called the mundane. Her youthful mind is ever wandering, always searching for a new distraction. She must focus, she knows, she must not forget the battle at hand. But it is so hard to draw herself away from what lies beneath, above, and through.
~Qui-zi...?~
She feels a pressure against her leg; no-- two, tiny little pressures. A flickering glance downward is not required, but reminds her of where she is, what she needs to do. Her eyes are back upon the fight almost instantly, the smile dropping from her delicate features as resolve hardens. It has taken mere seconds - all this thinking, all this wondering - but to Annie, it has seemed far longer. Her hips swing to one side as she raises an arm, black sleeve rippling about her skin as it hangs buffeted by her own energies.
"Together, Miu! As one!"
There is too much, she thinks, she has gone too far.
~No. I have gone far enough!~
Her black-furred companion leaps away from her as the gathered Psycho Power suddenly reverses polarity, no longer striving outward, but streaming toward the silver cross glinting at her sternum. A torrent of blinding violet travels in an instant to the fingers still clutching a tight fist at her chest. A flash, like a palpitating strobe, all but conceals the sudden outward motion from her raised arm, the opening of that fist to a wide, releasing palm. The resulting backlash as Annie's energies are released drives her back to the very edge of the roof, booted feet barely gripping to avoid her tumbling over.
And in her wake, the projectile is unleashed. A perfect cruciform, as brilliantly shining as a star, sparking - glistening - as it flies, bearing the full weight of the Murakami gift. But coloured deep by the girl herself, turning an assault that is more than enough to fling an opponent away into something intended less in the bitterness of mere violence. And more to cleanse, to seek out and deny the parts that need to be denied. Much like the techniques that Alma brings to bear, this is powered by hope and by love.
These can, of course, be the most destructive forces of all.

COMBATSYS: Annie successfully hits Alma with Crossing Wrath.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////////  ]
Alma             0/-------/=======|=------\-------\0              Miu
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/----===|


He let her go.
"Hrmm..."
And now they've got him right where they want him.
Alma can't help but grimace ever-so-slightly as the slender Miu slips just out of his reach, her acrobatic and innovative evasions costing him his advantage in momentum. He had committed himself fully to that attack, intending to isolate and crush her there, but he was not equal to the task. He should have known better than to underestimate Miu Kurosaki, chosen of the Ladies' Team. The magnitude of her psychic resonance is impressive enough, but even the force of her fighting spirit pulsing in his vision is not an adequate representation of her potential.
Even as he knows he has momentarily fallen into dire straits, wasting precious moments descending back to earth from his surging kicks, it only takes Alma's expression of effort to flicker back, unconsciously, into a smile.
That potential-- he'll be able to see it, though.
"Heh!"
The Thrice-Born Hero's mild smile yet widens as he hears Annie's shout, his gaze flicking back and forth as he senses the relative power of the energies now dwelling within them. There is no way Murakami could have masked her rising power from him even if she had wanted to, and Towazu is well aware he is to be her target. But caught in the crossfire as he is, his defenses will be a desperate effort. Men of faith do well in desperate moments.
Not always, of course, well enough.
Once again, his palm lashes out to reduce Miu's feathers to bursts of light, the phoenix's unyielding will seeming almost entirely unfazed by her power. Yet his eyes flicker as he feels himself driven back, unable to control his motion fully enough to utterly negate her burst. While Miu's attack may not itself have harmed him, it pushes him directly into the path of Annie's overwhelming assault. Alma tries to leap to the side, but--
"Nnngh!"

For the first time in the match, he is utterly bowled over by an attack, caught flat-footed by Annie's passionate psychic entreaty, and sent sprawling to the ground. There is only a second of stillness. The audience of families applaud, the young children cheer at this display of teamwork. And then smoothly Alma rises back to his feet, idly brushing dust from his jacket as his gaze drifts again from Miu to Annie, settling upon the blonde. His smile widens. Her spirit was...
"Well struck."
Whatever it was, Alma seems to be flushing slightly again.
~ The nobility of their souls-- I can barely contain myself. ~
This experience, it is greater even than a fight against evil.
But though having been felled puts him at a disadvantage when it comes to seizing the moment, if anything, Alma seems more than inspired by their combined assault. Something yet further has awakened within him, and even as he moves, his body blurring, his eyes shine with a light that seems to revitalize what was lost in their attack. It's unclear for a split second for whom he is moving-- and then all at once he is upon Miu, his fists trailing harmless but disconcerting afterimages as he weaves low to strike twice at her abdomen, a quick hook to her side, and then a palm strike that propels him backward, Alma seeking to dance away after the fact and regain some control over the field.

COMBATSYS: Alma successfully hits Miu with Spring Shower.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////       ]
Alma             1/-------/=======|====---\-------\0              Miu
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/----===|


Miu sees Alma coming. The trouble is, though she can see it, she is not going to be fast enough to do anything about it. Faced with an impossible dilemma, the girl chooses an unusual tactic. She rarely tried such things, but it is the mark of a poor fighter not to be able to respond to the changing tides of battle, and Miu would not allow Alma to dictate the flow of this fight, not if she could help it!

Stepping forwards, her intent is to twist with the blows, take them, but follow along with the man, to put her in a good place to respond in kind. Unfortunately, it is not to be. The strength of Alma's fists takes her by surprise. She had expected him to hit with far less force, and he breaks her rush. She stumbles backwards, choking for breath, the wind, momentarily, knocked from her lungs.

Never let it be said that Miu allows a setback like that to bring her down completely. The gothy girl may not be well placed to continue the attack, but that just meant... it is a poor time to try. She brings her hands together, and focuses her power inwards. Closing her eyes for a second. Letting her power soothe her bruises and bring strength back to her tiring limbs. Feathers continue to swirl from the girl, pooling at her feet, but the vast bulk of Miu's power is turned defensive, for a moment. The power of the Phoenix is great indeed, but she wasn't going to let herself be swept up in that heady tide of emotion. She would stand before the flames and allow them to rage all around her, without letting herself be burned by their touch.

There are no words from the Kurosaki girl in all this self-reflection. Instead, her eyes meet Alma's, snapping open again, reborn with an intensity that they had not shown before she was hit. As if to say, very well. Silently challenging him to do so again, she had learned her lesson, and she would be certain not to make the same mistake twice! Indeed, Miu's entire change in posture may be rather familiar to Annie... a similar bearing to that she adopted in their fight. Though she'd never doubted Alma's strength, she's now determined to find the proper way to extinguish it.

COMBATSYS: Miu gains composure.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Alma             1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0              Miu
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/----===|


Annie drops Viagra.

With the impact of her attack, so long in the preparation and yet so deceptively rapid in execution, a sigh escapes the little blonde's lips. She actually begins to lower her hands, bracing her feet against the rooftop as she pushes her back straight and starts to stroll forward across the rooftop. One arm cradles against her bared midriff, gripping at the elbow joint of the other - a stance ill-suited for combat. And for a moment, she simply watches the action with a calm, quiet expression.
Inwardly, she feels a similar relaxing, as though her overawed spirit has found the flow of battle and understands how to react and respond to these raging sensations - at once familiar and almost completely alien. Why then, does it not show in her stance, in the way she presents herself?
"Mrowl."
Jerking quite visibly at the insistent mewl of her companion, Annie once more widens those inquisitive amber eyes. Her knees behind inward as she sinks into her heels, lifting first her right hand, then the left; straining into two tight fists. Her beautiful soul may continue to blaze from within, but on the outside the young girl does not belie her inexperience. Her jaw still sets in a determination many older, considerably better warriors continue to lack, as she watches Miu beaten back by the Phoenix's assault.
~You're right, Qui-zi.~
Suddenly she is darting forward, breaking into a caterwaulic sprint across the rooftop, the sun's rays catching againt bright, flowing pigtails as she closes in upon Alma - to intercept him not with a sneaking side attack, but to draw full attention to herself before she leaps in. Her small fist whips outward just before she lands, attempting to place herself upon the opposite side to Miu so that they can begin to work together once more. But first, she aims to set afire the unscarred side of Alma's face with a solid backhand, punctuating it with a cry that would be adorable were she not in earnest...
"Seeeei-/yah/!"
It may be all the moreso because she is.
~I have to show him I can fight like this too.~

COMBATSYS: Alma dodges Annie's Strong Punch.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Alma             1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0              Miu
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/----===|


When it comes to spirit, the two blaze as one, indomitable.
When it comes to training--
Alma has a good grace to look a bit embarrassed as he easily slips by Annie's fierce backhand, compounding his success at not losing any momentum by whirling about her in his continued evasive dance, pivoting so that in a mere second he has positioned himself to her side, much too experienced by this point to let the pigtailed girl get the jump on him. It is obvious to the most unfamiliar viewer in this crowd that the Scarred Beauty, for all his admiration for the blonde's resplendent soul, severely outclasses his current adversary in fighting ability.
~ This girl... ~
"Careful, now."
~ ...is in need of protection. ~
His words are gentle and unhurried, and his much-photographed body shows no signs of fatigue. With the mild expression of someone who has no desire to press home the difference between them, his hand snakes out, instinctively hoping to cast the girl out of the circle of combat as efficiently as possible while, at least for the moment, restraining his power in preparation for another confrontation with Miu. Despite his polished demeanor, however, the tactic that Alma intuitive attempts ends up being hardly genteel.
"Hup!"
His bronzed hand reaches out for something to grip, and whether by fate or design, he grasps the edge of the cut-out in Annie's sleek dress that bares her midriff, taking hold of her clothing. Twisting fiercely and suddenly, he then unceremoniously attempts to /hurl/ the girl directly at her ally. If he can distract Miu with her even for a moment, his advantage will be enhanced.
And then he will have the opportunity to reveal the fullness of his spirit, unmitigated.

COMBATSYS: Annie dodges Alma's Strong Throw.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Alma             1/------=/=======|===----\-------\0              Miu
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/----===|


Miu feels much better. Centered and ready to return, energized, to the fray after her momentary rest. The girl watches Annie try to keep the pressure on Alma, and she narrows her eyes as he easily avoids her strike. The raven-haired girl is, at least, not the target of a sudden Anniedouken, but nevertheless, she is going to have to work hard to maintain Alma's attention...

The feathers which had pooled at her feet are suddenly whipped up in an unfelt breeze. A storm of black and white heralds her approach, Miu's power once more unleashed freely into the world. Alma's power is admirable, and the blazing heat of his passion simply refused to die down... this time, though, Miu tries to demonstrate a little more raw force than she had done before.

It's easy to see coming. For all her speed, the attack is not subtle in the least. The feathers raging around her are drawn together as she approaches, and she only hopes that Annie has the good sense to not be around Alma when she gets there; she had seen something similar to this move before, and if the way Miu's power is flaring is at all familiar, she'll know what is coming!

As just seconds before she would have run headlong into Alma, the schoolgirl draws up short, and throws both her hands forwards. Her usually impassive expression a mask of concentration, as all of those feathers join together into one, erupting explosion of force. Sheer determination roars from her outstretched hands in a huge cone, one with a sharply pointed tip, aiming to spear right through Alma, and break his momentum once more, with a demonstration of all Miu's spirit. One, focused, attack. Determined to plough straight through the Will of the Phoenix, this time, she is certain, her power will not be denied!

... and maybe, there is a hint, in that deep, yearning determination, of a darker shadow... a pride, burgeoning, under the surface of the quiet girl. A certain, satisfaction in unleashing her power in such a complete and devastating fashion.

Protection. Whether by haphazard observation, or the deeper connection that runs between these three individuals, Alma strikes the nail firm and true with his thoughts there. This petite heiress to the Murakami legacy is destined to have a protector, and it is her blossoming power that should be her one and only weapon. But the reborn hero must know, himself, that fate and prophecy cannot be relied upon - a warrior must move independent of such things. If indeed a warrior Annie can be called...
She certainly has the budding insincts of one, and though she is initially flustered as Alma evades her boisterous backfist, she recovers with reasonable grace. A flickering sideglance shoots toward Miu, but her attention never fully leaves her opponent. His grasping digits miss by a scant inch, snagging the soft fabric of her dress and tugging it outward as she hops backwards. There is a flash of smooth skin, the hint of burgeoning womanhood. Her cheeks abruptly glow with a crimson flush, and she has to suppress the desire to adjust the garment as it falls back into place. As it is, she stumbles momentarily.
Seated at the far edge of the rooftop, Annie's feline friend has stopped in the act of grooming herself and is staring at her back in that way that animals do; when they know that something is wrong but are incapable of telling you what.
It's too late for the pigtailed blonde. Because then she raises a guard, seemingly unaware of the fact that the strap of her dress has slipped. Before she lifted her arms, it was resting against the outer curve of her shoulder. As she tightens her stance, it slips further, revealing quite plainly the uppermost curve of her left breast. To Alma, it will be plain as day, not least as she just happens to have stepped out of his shadow and into the full brightness of the sun, its flattering warmth striking off her soft pink flesh...
And it's only made worse as Miu lunges in to make her attack, and Annie reacts with sensible drama, launching herself into a second backward hop but pulling her hands wide in the process. She... jiggles as she lands.
A lesser man might spring a nosebleed.

COMBATSYS: Annie assists Miu.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Alma             1/------=/=======|==-----\-------\0              Miu
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/----===|


[           \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Alma             0/-------/------=|=======\=------\1              Miu
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/----===|


Alma is a decent, virtuous young man.
This is in part accidental.
As one who finds the greatest sensual delight to be the perception of and reveling in another person's passionate spirit -- who finds the pleasures of the sixth sense to be the equal of the other five combined, and savors most their intertwining -- the Scarred Beauty has, for the most part, sidestepped hedonism without noticing it. For all his popularity and position, even from the beginning of his career Alma never noticed the physical attractiveness of others. Indeed, he perceived his /own/ physical attractiveness only as a means to an end, saw it through the prism of what drew and enthralled others.
It is a strange filter. He was always pleased that the lady models with whom he worked seemed to trust him so much, but he never fully understood the ambiguous looks that Giorgio would always give him, or the probing questions he would ask about Alma's personal habits.
So even in heated confrontation with two beautiful young girls of only slight age difference, the Radiant Angel has thrilled sincerely and entirely in the presence of their noble spirits. It requires no discipline; it is only natural. But, as has been stated, the ideal pleasure is when the fruits of other senses fuse with the vibrancy of his second sight. Under normal circumstances, this occurs when Alma experiences a genius work of art, or eats the food of a particularly passionate chef. Or, you know--
"Wha--"
--sees unexpectedly the nubile body of an ardent warrior.
His gaze had been focused entirely upon Miu's explosive approach. Of course, his grip had failed, his gambit perhaps too unconventional, the inexperienced girl still too agile. Even if she needs to practice her technique, he resolves not to discount her again. He has not unbalanced himself in the process of the grapple attempt, however, the move having been rather conservative, and when the Ladies' Team apprentice closes in, Alma's eyes gleam with readiness and rising spirit. His hands glows with a power that grows in proportion to Miu's own. He will meet her force with his will directly. An even clash, so as to test fully her resolve. He can think of nothing but the fight. His soul sings with his passion. His vital energy gathers.

And then out of the corner of his suddenly widening eye, the young man's scarred face abruptly blanching and flushing in quick succession, the supple curve of Annie's body, the gleam of light on purest skin, the--
"Guhh!"
Half-coughing in surprise, Alma's body seems to seize up, and all at once the power he is gathering gushes forth disproportionately, his own emotional energy emerging in a wholly unprecedented torrent which the phoenix himself hardly intended. Miu's strike is not at all met with a ready will; it is completely consumed and overwhelmed by a wide and wild geyser of scintillating light, vibrant colors intertwining and splashing against her, smothering her entire body and driving her back.
His hair somewhat askew from his own eruption, looking equal parts dazed and mortified, Alma blinks slowly, his normally mild eyes wide with shock, and looks back from Miu to Annie. Silence reigns.
"Oh..."
He's tingling all over.
"I... I'm sorry."
He doesn't know what came over him.
Or her.

Miu hadn't, exactly, been underestimating the power that Alma held in him. She'd just, been expecting her power to match anything he might be able to gather so quickly. This is, unfortunately, a mistake even more profound than the last. She is lifted bodily off her feet, and sent hurtling to the ground some distance away by the force of Alma's explosive release. The energy washes over her, and for a few moments, she isn't even certain what exactly had happened. But her attack had been rather magnificently countered, that much is for certain.

Drawing herself back up to her feet, the girl wipes some dirt from her features with the back of her hand, and her hands then move to slowly touch up her hair. Adjust her skirt. Make sure that she is, in other words, as recovered as she can be.

She exhales slowly, and then lets her hands drop to her sides again. The recovery has only taken a few seconds at most, but it certainly seems like Miu is in no rush to continue the fight. The reason for this, is made more clear when she gives Alma a dark look, and then, looks rather more despairingly to her teammate. Having replayed the last exchange in her head, she sees the distraction for what it is, and gives the lightest shake of her head.

"Your lapse was understandable, Towazu." She states, the very picture of disapproving calm once again. "If you could keep your focus on the fight, however." The sheer ice-cool tone of those words, it cuts far more painfully than any blade. She does not expect Alma to lessen up at all, of course, but she definitely feels better for the moment to regain her composure.

COMBATSYS: Miu gains composure.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Alma             0/-------/------=|=======\-------\1              Miu
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/----===|


~Oh no!~
It is the backdraft of emotional response from Alma that finally alerts Annie Murakami to the fact that her pubescent form is but hours away from every photo upload service on the world wide web. It's probably fortunate she doesn't actually know what that /is/, because her face already just about explodes from the realisation, hands slapping up to her mouth to muffle a loud, high-pitched squeak of pure feminine alarm. At the same time, her elbows tuck right in, shielding the poor girl from camera and lecherous model alike.
She's frozen for several seconds, staring stolidly at Alma. Trying to ignore the oppressive, blackened calm of her nearby partner. She certainly can't look at Miu - if she did, her face may just pass from bright red, through to purple, and then pop right off. After a moment she has the bright idea of looking /away/ from the older man, breathing out as she hastily and rather deftly adjusts her dress so that it only leaves bare a modest* segment of skin. The motion is practiced. It's probably happened before.
Just not in front of Alma Towazu.
~Why didn't you /tell me/, Qui-zi?~
Shooting a momentary glare back over her shoulder, Annie then turns to face him once more, still blushing horribly and trying to hide the fact that she's shaking all over. It's not exactly shame, the emotion pouring off her, it's more like... well, it's more like the soul-crushing embarassment experienced by a flighty schoolgirl who has made an utter fool of herself in front of the dreamiest boy she's ever met. But there's a big difference, here, from this hypothetical situation. A critical difference.
Annie Murakami doesn't go to school.
"I can't believe what you made me do!"
She is, however, flighty, and no amount of latent psychic talent can mask the fact she is almost completely unable to control her present mood. Spitting the sentence out in a desperate attempt to cover for the horrible* torrent raging within her soul, the pigtailed blonde throws herself forward in an act of childish rage. She stumbles a touch, but closes in on Alma with reasonable speed, and then-- something within seizes the reins. She brings her arm up with sudden grace, springing off tightly coiled leg muscles to leap high in the air, slicing upward to catch Alma from navel to neck with a blow glowing with brilliant violet light.
"I shall..."
But this is only the beginning. If she land the opening strike, carrying Alma aloft, Annie displays considerable acrobatic prowess as she flips away at the apex of her leap and tucks herself into a tight ball. A second blaze of energy lights up her entire body, lashing 'blades' of Psycho Power streaming around her as she soars down at a steep angle, aiming to catch the hapless hero in a whirlwind of her own forging.
"Punish you!!"


*Actually, it's not even slightly modest. Or that horrible. Unless you fancy Alma.

COMBATSYS: Annie successfully hits Alma with Zuum Cross And Fall.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Alma             0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1              Miu
[           \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/---====|


Alma wilts slightly.
"Y... yes, of course..."
The poor guy still doesn't fully understand what's happened; he's much less cognizant of the reality of the situation than his two adversaries or, indeed, his audience, some of whom are chuckling and joking amongst themselves while young children ask pointed questions. He can still feel the back of his neck heating up, and he's not entirely certain why. He swallows once, realizing that his throat has become somewhat dry. The urge to refer to Miu as 'ma'am' is very strong, though somewhat inappropriate.
"...wouldn't dream of anything else..."
He still sounds a little dazed though, and by the time he realizes he has given Miu space to recover yet again, an impassionate -- and embarrassed -- cry from beside him rouses the phoenix's attention, too late once again. Clearly wrong-footed, he turns with widened eyes -- only to see Annie hurtling straight toward him, catching him with a slash of psychic energy that carries him up into the air. He grunts, attempting to reassert his guard to weather whatever storm emerges, but as the girl tucks in, the winds buffet him from all sides, rendering his efforts mostly futile. And the whole while, he can't help but notice her athleticism, or the straining of her dress against the curves of her body, or the way her dress clips onto her stockings over the skin of her thighs, jeez that's actually a little--
When Alma opens his eyes, he is flat on his back on the roof. His eyes remain wide for a brief moment, then suddenly narrow, his parted lips flattening into a deadpan expression.
Alright, that's enough of this.
Though Alma seems thoroughly prone, it is shocking how swiftly he rises, deliberately staying still as Annie descends and then lunging to his feet with smooth swiftness, one leg snaking out in a powerful, even savage blow against the lithe girl's side. He will not take his punishment lying down. No, sir.
It's spanking time.
F... Figuratively speaking, of course.

Miu is, unfortunately, too far away to get between Annie and Alma. She dearly wishes that she wasn't. The girl is worried. Annie has been the victim of far more of Alma's effort in this battle, although she's taken a fair beating herself from the few parts that she's taken. She starts to rush towards Alma as quickly as she can, when he starts to rise, but, no matter what may happen... she's not going to get there in time!

Her power is burning out of her, though. Twin trails of white and black, like deep gouges in the air, streak after her from her arms, and, this time, she has no intention of stopping in her rush. Instead, three paces from Alma, the girl begins to /spin/.

Dark and light collide together, and the light emerges victorious. A corkscrew trail is briefly left, and then all that power is brought scything around in a large slash. Her arm aiming to crash bodily into Alma's back, that trailing energy dragged with her, and hoping to have more luck than the last directed blast of power at close quarters range... this power is definitely brought to bear with far greater speed than the last, though!

There's still no words from Miu, to her compatriot, but, if she can, she'll meet Annie's eye. If she can manage this, in the heat of battle, she'll try to do her best to synchronize with her teammate. Miu has done everything she can to try and remain cool and level-headed throughout the fight. But she could feel that things were soon going to be kicked up to the next level... she just needed Annie to be ready to move with her, to act as one mind for one shining moment! Then, perhaps, together, they could force their way through Alma's intimidating defenses, will of the Phoenix or no!

COMBATSYS: Annie interrupts Heavy Kick from Alma with Zuum Cross.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Alma             0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1              Miu
[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/-======|


Such anger, hot and passionate, dissipates quickly. As Annie spins directly on and through the scarred and reborn Phoenix, her thoughts quickly depart from the shock and dismay she has experienced, replacing conflicted, foolish emotions with a hungry instinct for battle that brings an entirely different manner of flush to her skin. When she lands seamlessly, whipping her slender form into one final somersault to come down upon perfectly bent legs, she does so without hesitation. And she turns immediately to face her downed foe, lips red and parted as she breathes in, eyes of honeyed-amber burning as bright as her soul. She raises her fists, and nods, sinking deep.
~I can feel it!~
As the model rises to meet her, to spank her, she continues to move with the instincts of a fighter. The kick is fast - to her - but it could be avoided. She is able. However, she does not twist, flip or leap away. Her mouth pulls into a line, and her jaw sets firmly as she bends her lithe frame /into/ the kick, turning just beyond it to soak as much of the impact as she is able. It almost winds her nonetheless, and she releases a sharp exhalation as pain flashes through her body...
~I feel just like he does!~
Without thinking, she has clamped her closest arm around the striking limb. She allows Alma a moment to notice, whether by design or through the faintest of hesitations, before she brings her other arm up and around, again flickering with vibrant soul energy as she hops off the floor as far as she can. She only makes it a few feet - but as she moves, her gaze locks with Miu's. The blonde feels a rush of pride, of jubilation, and it makes her rising motion all the more authoritative -- she strikes her psychic blade at the underside of Alma's leg, releasing him at the same time to spin away into the path of the crow girl's lunging assault. And then, finally, she smiles.
"He's all yours, Miu! Show him we mean business!"
~...what was I so cross about, again?~

COMBATSYS: Alma blocks Miu's Shubatsu.

[                \\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Alma             0/-------/--=====|=======\=------\1              Miu
[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/---====|


He's been outmatched.
Alma flinches as Annie, with incredible courage and fortitude, willingly takes the brunt of his kick, cutting through with blades of psychic energy that cast him in the path of a close-ranged blast he had otherwise hoped to avoid. His will, while well-trained and resistant to their continued assaults, is beginning to wear down, not in the least to the distractions he's recently suffered. But no one could justifiably blame how the battle has turned against him on that.
Their teamwork is exceptional.
"Hrn!"
Grunting with exertion, his defenses now visibly requiring considerably more effort than before, Alma's hand once again snaps out to snuff out Miu's persistent eruption of power, and though he once again sends feathers spiralling everywhere, that corkscrew trail splashing in all other directions, he winces again, one eye squinted shut. The phoenix cannot fly forever.
"Not yet...!"
But his wings are not yet plucked.
He still has more to give. Summoning up his reserves, Alma plunges headlong into the fray, shifting gears. His efforts to control the space around them and command the momentum of battle to prolong it and evade their strikes were successive for a time, but he could not maintain his pace, and he can no longer presume to defend in the same manner. If he has any hope of evening the playing field, it is now in an all-out assault. In parrying Miu's strike, Alma shifts, the agile man slipping by once again. But his movement is swift and possibly unexpected, for at once he spins, his leg lifting up, and seeks to wrap it about the dark-haired girl in a powerful and unconventional grapple, soulfire igniting about him. With a mighty roar to the heavens and a singular torque, he will seek to hurl her explosively to the ground in a storm of white and pale red energy.
His eyes flash with a renewed intensity.
Here, on the verge of defeat, passion will become fury.
"Hrraahh!"
How could he deny them the fullness of his being?

COMBATSYS: Miu dodges Alma's Sea of Flame.

[                 \\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Alma             0/-------/--=====|=======\=------\1              Miu
[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/---====|


This fight has been a technical challenge that Miu would never have seen coming. Alma's burning passion is hard to face head on, and she would never have guessed at the depths of will which lurk in Annie's heart. The way the girl selflessly throws herself into Alma's attack is inspiring, and she seeks to capitalize on it to the best of her ability. It would be an insult not to. Everything that this fight has been has brought them to these moments; all of them can sense that, one way or another, things are rapidly approaching a climax, and none of them could stop it now, even if they wanted to!

When Alma recovers, though, every part of Miu, everything that she is, screams at her /not/ to be where she is. In a sudden reversal, the girl throws herself to the ground, a soft trail of feathers meeting Alma's leg, tickling against it harmlessly. If asked how she managed to do it afterwards, she'd never be able to fully explain. But, somehow, she manages to pass underneath that lashing leg.

For the briefest of moments, this is a tableau; Annie in the air, Alma striking out through a trail of feathers, Miu, practically laying on the floor to avoid it...

And then she rolls from the position, rising up from the ground in a flurry of feathers, trailing her own leg around with her, and aiming to smash that leg into the side of Alma's head with all the force, all the strength of will, that she can muster. A truly stunning display of athletic talent that sends gasps from the audience, unable, momentarily, to believe what it is their eyes are seeing!

The hearts of these two developing talents are guiding them through a battle they would never be expected to win - it is a testament to so many things, that they are not only still standing, but have turned the situation to their advantage. Annie's exuberance is certainly not misplaced as she diverts her recovery into a full backflip, curling gracefully through the sun's rays to land in a catlike crouch a few paces from Alma. Amber eyes glance immediately from the floor, watching with a quiet focus as Miu's attack is deflected...
And Alma's, in its turn, is evaded by her teammate.
She has to suppress the urge to cheer, clap, or leap in the air. Watching the other girl - who she already considers a friend, awkward and unreciprocated as that relationship may or may not be - flourish in this environment just heightens the incredible feeling in the air. And they owe it all to this incredible warrior, this champion of the people. It's been so difficult to think of him as an opponent; thank heavens for timely wardrobe malfunctions.
The pigtailed blonde is quick to capitalise on the situation however, now firmly in the rhythm of combat for perhaps the first time in her short life. She pushes herself out from her low position atop the roof, but barely rises, dashing forward with her arms streaming behind before slapping a palm once more to the rooftop and swinging her entire weight into a heavy scything motion. It's a ponderous attack - but it comes just a half-second after Miu's, as Annie aims to simply tear Alma's legs out from under him with the collision of two clunky boots.

COMBATSYS: Alma blocks Miu's Medium Kick.

[                   \\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Alma             0/-------/-======|=======\=------\1              Miu
[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/---====|


COMBATSYS: Alma interrupts Heavy Kick from Annie with Blaze of Glory.
> Determined Hit! <

[                      \\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Alma             1/------=/=======|=======\=------\1              Miu
[                       \\\\\\\  <
Annie            1/-----==/=======|


A flash of light renders them silhouettes.
The shadow that is Alma stands tall, poised in the middle. Two slim figures cut at him from above and below, looking for the moment like mirror images of each other, indistinguishable in the blinding moment. That image is burned into the eyes of those in the front row watching, who will find it difficult to discern what next transpires, swift as it is. But for those others watching, though that moment will hang in time as, perhaps, one of the defining pictures of this match, the battle itself hurtles on.
And in this exchange, the beleagured Alma is once again in control.
He does not look Miu's way. This does not prevent him from twisting his arm such that her exceptional rising kick is parried in an equally fantastical manner, the young man with the spirited eyes whipping his blazer-clad arm about to neatly deflect a strike he cannot see, can only sense, only predict from the general hints offered by his intuition and his intimate understanding of her fiery aura. At the same time, the phoenix can feel with all of his heart that Annie has immersed herself in the flow of this battle, has truly outdone herself. Though he is not conscious of it, does not have time for thought, his soul swells with both awe and joy at how they have synchronized with one another despite their differences.
Now he too will move as one.
He is braced against the strike. His legs do not shift when Annie's stocking-clad legs thrust out their booted kick. He is pushing against her, meeting force with equivalent force, reciprocating rather than flowing aside. Like a rising tide, power flares out about his fist, fire coalescing into a shining blade. Yes, it is nothing other than a veritable sword of raw psychic energy emanating from his fist, gleaming like steel and sparkling like a star. Forged from dreams, it is destined to cleave through the darkness.
"Hrraahhh!"
Or to cut straight through to the heart.
Alma's slash is almost directly vertical, from Annie's navel to her breast, and up to her head as that flame-strewn blade of light appears to pierce through her very body as she passes, drawing no blood -- of course -- but erupting with explosive force about her as she glances off him and passes him by.
His eyes glitter still, with rising spirit and resolve.
He must not allow himself to be distracted now.

Miu grits her teeth. Feeling deep empathy for poor Annie right then. She barely knew the girl. Slow as she is to call someone friend, though... she still, /feels/ for her. The raven-haired psion rises with her aura surging. For all her inner fury, her composure is unbroken. Her eyes narrowed, and her voice cracks out like a whip, as hard and unyielding as her stance. Miu has avoided saying very much in any fight she has been in, but right now, she has all the authority of a fighter twice her age.

"Annie. Do not lose your focus!" She demands, doing her best to try and bring her back to the moment, even if that requires a bit of tough love in the face of such unrelenting violence. "You asked me to demonstrate my power to you. Now."

She brings her arms up, palm open, fingers splayed, facing Alma. Eight feathers rise from her aura, four black, four white. Each glinting razor-sharp as she invests more of her power into each. This, confidence! She'd never worked with someone else before, but, Annie, for all she is annoying and undoubtedly childish compared to Miu's unshakable dignity, had worked well with her. Maybe... this, is the limit to which their souls were being pushed!

"Show me now, what lays in the heart, of Murakami Annie!"

And the eight feathers lance outwards, each forming a line... leading away from Alma. Perfectly positioned for Annie to plough Alma into, but, if Miu's instincts have betrayed her, if she shouldn't be relying so heavily on the strength of her companion, then, all of that will have been for nothing. Everything now hinges on whether the remarkable potential of Annie, that deep soul which promised so much, could be brought to bear at this crucial moment, to finally... sweep Alma Towazu off his feet!

"Syaaaaaaa-!!"
She has felt nothing like it, the shock against her senses almost too great a burden to bear. A scream rings out not just from her throat, but from the very pit of her soul, where that fire eternally burns. For just a moment it seems in dire peril of being extinguish, snuffed out like a mere candle flame before the blazing star that is the Thriceborn hero. The light alone eclipses the poor girl from view as she is struck so deeply, and when she falls to the unyielding surface below there is some doubt as to whether she can rise...
~So... so much... but I can... I will...~
A small, soft hand slaps down /hard/ on the rooftop, as Annie Murakami pushes herself forcefully to one knee. Her entire body is aflame still from Alma's assault - but more, her mind is a delirious fog, an empassioned maelstrom stirred by the man's unyielding spirit. She should not be able to stand, she should not even be able to perceive the scene before her. She's barely awake, barely able to maintain ordinary functions. But Miu's words break through the haze, and penetrate deep into her heart. With a sharp exhalation and a shake of the head, amber eyes regain their focus.
~Just like last time... we strike as one! Together!~
In a rush of motion, a surge of dizzying effort, Annie rises to her feet. Her muscles do not immediately respond to the brain's order to maintain balance, and she almost slips and falls - barely spreading her stance and windmilling limp arms before she is able to draw herself upright. She takes a breath, and then she steps forward. A second step comes quicker, smoother, and by the fourth she is covering the ground at a dead sprint.
"Towazu-san!"
Her voice rings out without faltering, and suddenly she is there before him, a breathless smile turning up her lips as she lunges in with a hop and a spin, landing at his opposite flank and turning as part and parcel of the same seamless movement. For those paying attention - including Qui-zi, who is watching most intently from the sidelines, only pausing occasionally to lick herself or inspect the ground for mice - this places Alma neatly between his two young opponents.
"Let us finish our battle!"
Her hand rises and lashes out as she turns from the hip.
"Ichi!"
It will catch his cheek and then go wide, almost too wide, until the truth becomes clear - it was supposed to. In an unorthodox display of her gymnastic skills, the pigtailed blonde bends back and drops close to the ground, arching the lithe length of her frame as she plans the wildly striking hand to the ground and swings herself up into a tight flip. There is a crackle of power, and violet energy blazes in a second arc around her leg, as she slashes one hefty boot up and over in a strike to the chin.
~Let me show you how much potential I have...~
"Ni!"
Yet still she moves, curving through the already impressive motion to land braced upon the springy muscles of her calves. Honey-brown eyes narrow as she tenses up, watching the staggering model in the instant that it takes her to spring and twist once more, this time driving her full body weight back, bending at the waist until she is almost doubled over in front of him. But she leaps /high/; and her pert rear end draws level with Alma's face, clenching beneath the taut fabric of the dress as it is thrust out with intent!
~Let me show you both! Alma-kun!~
"MIU!!"
Intent to shove him directly toward the painful promise of Miu's explosive feathers, using every last ounce of physical strength she holds in her frame, channelling it via her soul into the shapely curve of her posterior...
Together, they /will/ sweep Alma from his feet!

COMBATSYS: Alma endures Miu and Annie's Ichi Ni Miu!

[                             \  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Alma             1/----===/=======|=------\-------\0              Miu
[                        \\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/------=|


He can resist them yet. He can perservere. He is prepared.
They come at him as one, and he does not seek to escape. If anything, his soul yet rebeling against the fatigue at last beginning to sap at his body's strength, he strives to move closer to Miu, to close in as she prepares her final assault. If he has the time to concentrate, he will be able to drive directly through her oncoming onslaught -- of this he is certain. The true test of his ability will be whether or not Annie is able to slow him down enough to prevent him from reaching her dark-haired ally before he is able to crush her gathering will before it can assert itself. He is swift. By the time she reaches him, he is halfway there.
The last test begins.
He cannot help but return her bright smile with a slight, gentle smile of his own. She is irrepressible -- but here is where he shows his merit. Though committed to his charge toward Miu, he is able to duck under her wide backhand, but is almost caught by surprise by that blazing kick. Grunting, he is forced to slow slightly so as to brace himself, guarding against that arcing kick, his will fraying at last against that power. He is becoming exhausted, but he will not surrender. He is almost there, and he can feel Miu's power growing, see it almost manifested. Gritting his teeth, his attention divided, he strains toward Kurosaki, his hand outstretched and already aglow with a counter-force of resplendent power, prepared to seize that critical moment.
- Let me show you both! -
His eyes flicker. His lips part. Stunned by the sudden presence in his subconscious, those echoing words, that the openness of his mind has somehow gone his far, he cannot help but turn his head to look wide-eyed over his shoulder, turning his face to Annie even as his body plunges for Miu--
"...Mmphh."
His words are forever lost.
Dreamily, Alma's eyes flutter against-- whatever warm pillow someone has stuffed into his face. The dull ache of head trauma suggests they are thrusting this pillow quite /forcefully/ at him, but it doesn't seem important enough to worry about-- whereupon heaven swiftly becomes hell as Miu's feathers tear forcefully into his body, all at once sending Alma spiralling out of control and crashing to the ground on his back at the dark-haired girl's feet, Annie conveniently seated upon his face.
There is, most likely, a general silence.
Whereupon, after about a second or two of comedic timing, the quiet Alma abruptly erupts all over again in a geyser of sparkling power, vast and unrelenting, firing up to the sky in tribute, his spirit a sacrifice in praise of the gods.
He does not make much effort to move in the subsequent moments.

COMBATSYS: Alma can no longer fight.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Miu              0/-------/------=|
[                        \\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/------=|


[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Miu              0/-------/----===|
[                        \\\\\\  <
Annie            0/-------/------=|


Miu's expression falters for just a moment. Her brow twitching at Annie's ... unconventional naming style. Ichi Ni Miu? That, that was just...

Trying not to dwell on that, Miu is instead assaulted by the sight of Alma with Annie, uhm, straddling him. In a rather, compromising position. The poor goth girl just, stares. She has to believe that Annie didn't /mean/ to do that. But, it makes a surreal sight, to say the least. She certainly doesn't expect it when Alma's energy comes surging out in a wave of sparkly doom even with that, handicap. But, then, she hasn't expected many of the moves he's performed this fight!

This time, however, it is Miu's will which stands strong. Perhaps because it hasn't been as constantly battered and worn down as Alma's. A wall of mingled feathers is brought to bear against the wash of energy, and although it splinters and cracks, dissolving back into its constituent parts, it shields her from the worst of Alma's wrath.

Miu is left panting for breath, wiping sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. It is only after she has defended herself that she seems to realize that something might be wrong. After all, Annie had been right on top of that eruption!!!

"... Annie?"

COMBATSYS: Annie endures Alma's Full Confession.

[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Miu              0/-------/----===|
[                                <
Annie            1/-------/=======|


Annie's psychic senses have almost been overloaded on more than one occasion this fateful afternoon. Upon the sun-struck rooftop, three warriors whose paths may run parallel have traded almost everything that they have - committing themselves fully to a battle they will surely all remember. Even aside from partial nudity and what amounts, now, to a particularly inappropriate position as the ponytailed blonde ends up seated firmly upon the scarred yet beautiful face of Alma Towazu.
"Saaa," she breathes, craning her head back, stretching out her back as she allows the residues of power to wash over her. Letting out all the air in her lungs as she settles back comfortably. In her chest, her youthful heart is pounding fast, but she attempts to relax anyway - until within seconds that telltale spark alights the air. Fresh energy, emerging in a torrent. Amber eyes widen for the umpteenth time, and the slender girl glances downward, falling slightly forward and extending her arms to brace her hands against Alma's torso. Her warmth pressing against the seal burned into his skin.
And then it happens-- no, it is already happening, as her eyes slip shut. The full and copious extent of this man's power erupts through her, setting electric fire to every nerve, all but blowing the heart against her ribcage as it continues through and upward, scathing the spiritual centre en route to the already muddled mind of the battered Murakami heiress. She hears Miu call out somewhere, distantly, even as she fails to do the same - unable to scream, merely opening her mouth wide and scant of breath as she stares through the glorious pillar of light to the expanse of the sky so close above.
When it is over, she quivers and slumps forward, her shoulders trembling in the few seconds before she passes out - still seated upon Alma's face, supporting her inconsiderable weight against his abdomen as she falls into a dreamy unconsciousness. She has weathered his storm, felt the sheer scope of his incredible abilities, of his awe-inspiring innermost nature.
And now it is time to rest. It feels... so comfortable. So right.
Further examination may reveal that she's dribbling, just slightly.
"Mrowl," complains Qui-zi from the edge of the rooftop. She doesn't approve.

COMBATSYS: Annie takes no action.

[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Miu              0/-------/----===|


[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Miu              0/-------/----===|

"Mmph?"
--that Rose-sensei would /not/ approve.
There is a brief moment of squirming. At last, the scarred beauty, clearly thoroughly fatigued, manages to extract his head sufficiently from beneath Annie's backside to regard Miu with dull eyes and an already chastened, somewhat flushed expression.
"Ah... ahem..."
The blonde is very lightweight, of course, but--
"Would you mind... giving me a hand, Kurosaki-kun?"
For some reason, his body just doesn't want to move.
Alma's tone is hopeful... but uncertain.

Miu regards Alma for a long, cold moment.

She always knew, deep down, it would come to this. That one day, for their antics, Alma and Annie would be looking to her, to save them from the wrath of Rose. That moment has come, and now, she looks down into Alma's eyes, and she whispers.

"No."

And with that, the schoolgirl turns on her heel, and walks away. Heedless to the cries of the crowd, the cheering of her fans. She's proud, of course, of what she has accomplished, the friend she has made, the heart she has demonstrated and the talent growing within...

... But all must pay for their actions, and Miu is not going to involve herself in whatever relationship is burgeoning between Annie and Alma. And she's certainly not going to shield them from the wrath of Rose.

COMBATSYS: Miu has ended the fight here.

Log created on 13:30:27 01/06/2011 by Annie, and last modified on 18:33:56 01/14/2011.