Description: Now that Ash has deigned to re-enter the world of street fights and organized sport, it has been Alma's misfortune to fall into his notice. There was once a time when the Radiant Angel was far from approaching Ash's caliber, but shifts in the playing field have occurred during Crimson's absence. For his own enigmatic and likely nefarious reasons, he has sought out the organizer of this tournament with no interest in its purpose, and casually demanded to fight 'the leader of the YFCC.' Whether the misinterpretation was accidental or intentional, none can say. But, of course, Alma is only the functional head of that organization. Officially, the true power is-- well, there you have it.
The Noise Factory, thinks Rose, lives up to its name. The nightclub is perhaps the -happeningest- spot in Sunshine City, which may or may not say much about Sunshine City or the club itself. But the club itself is jumpin', especially tonight--Sunshine City is as fight-crazy a town as Southtown, a fact not lost on Rose as she sits at the bar. She has, in fact, been there a while--and she stands out.
It's not just her presence, though that certainly draws the eye--something about her just invites the look, the stare, though her perfect composure in the face of the bass-heavy, thumping music--mostly electronic and other 'danceable' tunes, things which Rose has little knowledge of or interest in--also seems to scare some of the would-be suitors away.
She doesn't seem to mind; arrayed before her are two bottles of wine, far better fare than the Noise Factory could produce--its patrons tend to drink the Day-Glo drinks, not fine wines--and a goblet, of course, just now about half-full of a dark red wine. Rose stands out again for her mode of dress--as archaic and old-fashioned as one might get, a frilly dress, almost in the Southern United States 'Antebellum' style, with plenty of ruffles and hoops; in deference to the dress, she stands at the bar, one silk-gloved arm resting, at the elbow, on it, as she observes the dance floor, with its flashing-light floor, with the spotlights rotating through other colors...
...and she smiles. The place is -alive-, and Rose dearly loves to feel it, as she does. There are more people starting to gather, as the appointed time of the Asahishoubu match closes in; the DJ gets on the mic, his voice with something of a hyperactive tone, "ALRIGHT LAY-DEES AAAAAAND GEEEENTS! WE ARE GONNA CLEAR THE DANCE FLOOR IN TWO MINUTES!!" Indeed, the pounding sound of the music is starting to fade, as the song is brought to a close. "EVERYONE HERE KNOWS THAT TONIGHT WE GOT A -SPECIAL EVENT-!!!" That's the cue, and on it, a spotlight frames Rose, at the bar, who takes the sudden light with perfect equanimity, her full lips curving up into a piper's smile, "This beautiful lady is gonna -fight-!! We're just waiting on her opponent... So right now, give it up for... ROSE!!" As unaccustomed to 'public fighting' as Rose is, she still manages to be perfectly composed as she leaves the bar, stepping onto the dance floor--still smiling, as with the whirring of machinery, four posts rise up from the corners of the dance floors, club staff running out to attach the flexible, padded cables that turn the floor into a fighting arena.
There's some whispering--is Rose going to -fight- in that getup...?
Sunshine City, a suburb of Southtown currently undergoing restoration via this impromtu tournament, holds very little interest for the likes of Ash Crimson thus far. Fight-crazy or not, it just lacks that certain 'appeal'. ... But hey, he hasn't had much time to explore, judging new territory harshly based on what merely amounts to a rather short ride to the Noise Factory, and his scheduled fight.
The Frenchman is typically tardy, as is his wont, arrival greeted by a deafening blast of noise. He blinks, shielding blue eyes from darting strobes and other seizure-inducing lights, overcome with a sudden realisation: It's a nightclub...? Certainly didn't seem to be such from the outside!
The existing level of sound may be loud and obnoxious to his ears, but it is admirable how smoothly Ash transitions from shock to the utmost comfort, slamming door sounding his intentions to stay. The flamewielder cuts through the writhing crowd, sashaying up to the bar, missing the spotlight by mere miliseconds. A frown creases his freckled features. Following Rose's rising from her seat and graceful trek to the dance floor, he turns to the bartender, "Who's that?"
"Didn't you hear the announcement?"
Exhaling, it disturbs long strands of platinum blonde hair, "Monsieur, you are no help." Instead of collecting a drink for himself - as was his original intention - Ash straightens the top to his red fighting attire. He leaves the confused looking man behind; the bartender is likely asking the exact same question right now.
When he reaches what is now a cleared 'ring', the white light hits him, blinding Crimson, "And this... is ASH CRIMSON!" Applause erupts, some fans and admirers of the Frenchman found lurking amongst party-goers. He can't see them, though.
"Mon dieu." Suddenly the world is dark, and then again with the colourful flashes. The flamewielder struggles to adjust, pupils dilating, "So." He says, and the single word carries. One hand with its finely manicured fingernails finds his hip, "This is not what I meant when I said I'd like to fight the head of the YMC..er..Ahaha." Ash forgot the name. He rubs the back of his head, then rolls thin shoulders, obviously uncaring, "You're not planning on fighting in that, are you?"
Oh man, he just OUTRIGHT says what EVERYONE is thinking. And what's with Rose's hair?
"If the two combatants are ready, then let the fight BEGIN!" Yells out the announcer, and the live-band totally hits it, bashing cymbals, wailing on the guitars! OH YEAH!
Rose's smile is patiently placid. "Ah, of course. You expected to fight Alma..." Despite the loudness of the club, and it -is- loud, even with the music muted somewhat, just because of the people, openly betting or talking or just shouting to be heard over the -others-... she doesn't really act as though she's raising her voice, yet she's easily audible to everyone, including Ash. "Alma -is- the public face of the YFCC, it's true," she says, conversationally, "but I'm afraid you should have had made your request more specific." That said, she gestures, and her scarf unwraps itself from around the woman's neck and shoulders, as if alive.
"In this? Oh, no. This isn't suitable for a battle." She takes a single, long step forward, reaching across herself with her right hand; she grips the top of the bodice of her dress and -pulls-, and suddenly she's simply covered by a blur of white and pink and yellow, though the colors are hard to see with the flashing lights.
It lasts but a moment and when it clears, Rose is wearing a much more practical ensemble--a tight, cross-back halter top, red silk covering head and wound around her neck loosely, and sheer, blousy black pants, tight at hip and ankle--and red high heels.
"I trust this is more appropriate?" she says, not having broken stride in the least to perform this change--she's still moving forward. Perhaps realizing that the fight really -is- on, the tech man hits the lights and the dancefloor starts up, flashing red, white, yellow, garish colors as Rose's next step turns into a neat forward lunge, the woman ducking low--and then coming up as she grasps her scarf in her right hand and sends it flicking out towards Ash.
The yellow silk scarf hardly seems like a weapon--until it flares with an aura of Rose's Soul Power, crackling purple-white energy that looks like electricity, but with an odd, pearlescent sheen to it, the scarf slashing through the air with a strength of purpose.
COMBATSYS: Rose has started a fight here.
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Rose 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Ash has joined the fight here.
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Ash 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Rose
COMBATSYS: Ash dodges Rose's Aura Scarf.
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Ash 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Rose
Uttering a soft, twinkling laugh, it is silenced by the heavy beat, but in his following action, perhaps some meaning is still delivered: Splaying long fingers across his wide slash of a mouth, Ash whispers, amused, "So I have noticed." His error was a foolish one, the Frenchman understands this now. "Next time, Mademoiselle, I will not be so careless." His voice does not carry as hers does, and so the flamewielder projects without outright yelling - Ash finds her ability to simply talk casually over the music strange and unnatural. Also fascinating. Maybe this unexpected twist will not be a waste of his time after all.
As Rose walks towards him, the band playing something fast and furious, his jaw drops... The surprise is expressed even further by blue eyes widening to their limits at the changing display, hand slipping from his hip. Well! Isn't that all just superb and impressive? Ash goes so far as to say it, "Ah, bravo!" He claps his hands together, shock wrestled into a polite smile. Clearing his throat gently, the Frenchman continues, "It would be a shame to ruin your..." He pauses, trying to define the monstrosity, "Dress." Crimson finishes lamely.
As the floor comes to life, flashing of coloured lights causing Ash's hair to appear as though it was subjected to a miserable rainbow dye-job, the man eases into a relaxed looking stance, clearing noting that, announcement aside, it is time to begin. Rose rushes in, flicking her scarf out, and the flamewielder turns, lazily watching it pass him by. It's like a flower petal, albeit a very dangerous one, caught by the wind... Her Soul Power strikes a familiar chord within him...
Ash reaches out, gloved hand attempting to snag onto the scarf before it's retracted. The slight charge of power left behind numbs his fingers. "My my, we can't have this, can we?" Raising both eyebrows, he allows the object to slide from his grasp, and what is left behind is a sudden, boiling conflagration of verdant chi in his palm. The bubbleflame commander cuts sharply through the air before him, crescent line traced after his fingertips, following up the attack with a second. The two merge together, and are sent off to burn all in its path to cinders.
COMBATSYS: Ash successfully hits Rose with Ventose.
~~ Alluring Hit! ~~
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Ash 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Rose
The first shot goes to Ash; the verdant chi flashes across the dance floor and the strike is true, forcing Rose back as she finds herself... alight with green flame. She remains utterly calm, however. Certainly, it's painful, but she is not yet worried for her life or her soul; however, she certainly has some measure of the man, now. Rose inclines her head to Ash, even as she pulls her scarf back to her, the fabric rippling as if supported by wind and wire.
"Alma mentioned that you were a man of power; I can see now that he was not 'putting me on'." Rose's calm visage breaks into a bit of a smile as the last of the fire fades, and the scarf takes station around her shoulders and arms. The purple-haired woman with the hair like lightning remains on the offensive, however; closing the distance with the platinum-haired Frenchman, Rose launches a simple combination of strikes, crackling, purple-white lightning flaring around her hands as she strikes first high, then middle, with her hands, in a pair of palm strikes. A rather simple technique, if made somewhat flashy by the power surging around her limbs; she instinctively feels as if this man, Ash Crimson, is far more than he would seem...
... and just as importantly, is truly her equal, in raw power and talent if not in specifics. Her peaked eyebrows rise a little. This...
This may well actually be 'fun'.
COMBATSYS: Ash blocks Rose's Medium Punch.
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Ash 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Rose
With the flash of his eyes in yet another blink, the flamboyant flamewielder laughs outright. He tangles fingers in his lengthy blonde fringe, twisting the strands gently around thin fingers while the pad of his thumb brushes over their freshly-cut tips. "Ah, he mentioned me? How nice." Ash's head cants to the side, smile of the utmost pleasant and friendly variety. If his fire had not caught her, would the Frenchman still be so happy? Who can say.
"I hope I continue to live up to your expectations." Sweeping an arm into his midsection, the lean man bends over in mock-bow, but does not look away from his opponent. That would just be utter foolishness on Ash's behalf. He carefully notes that scarf, acutely aware of its movements while straightening, and Rose attempts to strike again. Perhaps her equal, this will be determined later on... But for now, Crimson maintains his stride and matches each strike with his own chi-infused palm. The light flares impressively at the man's fingertips on impact.
Hopping back neatly, his landing almost catlike, Ash snuffs out the remains of verdant flame igniting his fingertips, both arms crooked and hands finding his narrow pelvis. "It's a shame that I don't know anything about you, Mademoiselle. I missed your name." Imagine if she was called 'Lightning', and styled her hair to match! Hilarious! "Your power seems... very similar to Alma's." Like flinging her soul at him, but more refined.
But let us not engage in idle conversations, prolonging the match!
There is fun to be had here, what with her flashy display and interesting strength in battle... The thin fighter springs forth from his relaxed stance, his movements fluid and natural. Swinging his leg up and over, Ash attempts to bring it crashing down on her shoulder. What is it, he thinks, with all of his televised fights being against women these days?
COMBATSYS: Rose dodges Ash's Medium Kick.
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Ash 0/-------/----===|====---\-------\0 Rose
Rose has to be calm, has to remain untense. She must acknowledge the tension without succumbing to it. But she is a master at this; she is very much the master of her emotions, not the other way around. What's that movie line? There is no emotion, there is serenity? That's the ideal that Rose aspires to. It takes her a moment to reach that calm--a mere half-second--and in that half-second, Ash is dropping his heel for Rose's shoulder, in a textbook, classic axe kick.
The axe kick is a powerful technique, a favored technique amongst the martial artists who use Tae Kwon Do--but it is very linear and vertically oriented. Rose turns, letting that kick ruffle her hair with the breeze it creates as it passes through the space formerly occupied by the Soul Power master, the slightest smile on her lips. "Very good, Mr. Crimson. It is not often I get to test myself against men of your caliber... I shall endeavour to learn all I can from this experience." For even as a master, there is always something to learn.
Rose fades back a step, as if retreating--but then suddenly she tips forward, as if she were going to attempt a somersault--but she plants her left hand on the ground, and her right foot remains grounded as well, as she whips her left foot up and around in an extremely odd-looking, head-height kick that might just hit with the spike of a heel.
COMBATSYS: Ash interrupts Soul Piede from Rose with Rapide Ventose.
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Ash 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Rose
It's funny, the comparisons between his own self-made style and Tae Kwon Do. Ash is fairly certain he's never been exposed to the art, but who can say. C'est la vie! Maybe he fought a practitioner in past, at some point.
Leg swung past Rose, who easily dodges him, the Frenchman hits the dance floor lightly and unperturbed. He pivots on a flashing blue light, gracefully turning to face his opponent fully - she still hasn't deigned to release her name just yet. Ash utters a delighted chuckle, "Ahaha, stop, you're going to embarrass me." A fingerless-gloved hand lifts to the back of that strange, archaic hairstyle, scratching his head. The gesture is humble, but his posture radiates confidence...
Crimson contradicts himself so carelessly.
The somersault kick... thing earns a geniune look of surprise and confusion; both pencil-thin eyebrows disappear into his length of bangs, and when the foot draws closer - Ash is still undecided on what it's supposed to be - he reacts on instinct. Leaning to the side, the spiked heel grazes one freckled cheek, leaving an angry mark of red upon his face. Ouch! The flamewielder winces, but continues on, flames collected in his hands once more, which he coldly blasts right into the Soul Power master's chest.
Pulling back, bubbles of emerald sparkling on his fingertips, Ash admires them openly, skin tinted green by their light-- ow. Actually, he just rubs where the heel caught him, frowning thoughtfully. It's likely not as unpleasant as getting hit with crazy fire, but still.
That hissing green flame washes over her again, forcing her back. Indeed... Ash Crimson's power is strong. Rose has already felt it.. and experienced it. She's little desire to do so again, at least in this form. But... the fight goes on. Drawing back, Rose comments, in that voice that isn't loud but is audible over the pounding beat of the electronic music that permeates the dance floor/arena, "You seem to have the advantage on me, Mr. Crimson..." It is, on the face of it, simple fact, though Rose doesn't seem discouraged.
Psionic power is latent in nearly everyone, as is the power of life--chi. The two share many things in common, as many as they have apart. For Rose, tapping into that power, drawing more of it around her, is a relatively simple proposition--she learned long ago to concentrate power within herself. She whips her scarf around her in a tight spiralling pattern, the cloth flashing and glowing with her power, a symbolic representation of what's happening within.
She can sense Ash's confidence, and, in truth, he's certainly earned it, with those telling strikes of that green bubbleflame. Rose is certainly experienced enough to recognize the energy in gross form, but Ash's particular variation is... intriguing. "You handle that power very well," she comments to the Frenchman. "As if it were a part of you." Of course it is--but that's -not- what Rose means. It takes skill and talent to make something like that natural and reflexive.
COMBATSYS: Rose gathers her will.
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Ash 0/-------/---====|=======\==-----\1 Rose
He does not truly understand this gift. This unique manifestation of power... But Crimson also doesn't care to - wielding flames of green is as natural as breathing, and so he handles it well, honing his skill over the years. What point would there be in analying his abilities further? It just /is/. The man graces Rose with a simple smile at her comment, mysterious in its core nature, still gingerly rubbing his cheek, actually making it more red than before. Ash, stop that.
"All advantages are based on individual perception, Mademoiselle." Rolling his thin shoulders, what will come next? Ash's question is answered shortly by the swell of energy, and his back straightens in preparation... Nothing happens, though. That glowing scarf is of no threat to him, his pupils narrowing in azure depths, studying the article's movements once again. Well! If she's going to present him with an opportunity, then he'll gladly accept!
To the very beat of wild music, Ash darts across the dance floor, the distance between the two fighters suddenly non-existant. His arm winds up, body lifting from the ground, then a hard fist is sent over the swirl of scarf and Soul Power, his intentions being to brutally punch whatever winds up in his path. Be it face or shoulder, the freckle-faced, flamboyant individual does not discriminate... Although the flamewielder isn't fond of hitting women in the mush. Sometimes it cannot be helped - he certainly doesn't want to go THROUGH that energy. "I'd very much like to know what this is."
COMBATSYS: Rose blocks Ash's Messidor.
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Ash 1/------=/=======|=======\====---\1 Rose
Ash's punch is met with a slender forearm, deflecting the brutal impact away from more vital areas. In the same moment the scarf's flare of energy cuts off; as if it were a snake it flows up over her arms and shoulders once more. "This? Ah, this is but a trifle," she says, chuckling faintly. It's true that advantage--the concept of it, the possession of it--is a matter of the moment, a shifting, elusive thing. But Rose's comment stands; at the moment, the advantage... the momentum... lies with Ash. She intends to change that, of course.
The impact drives her backwards another step, though she seems to give the step willingly, gladly--she's -concentrating-. Ash will feel... -something-... right about the time a cloud of sparkling power would gather around his feet and calves. It'd certainly -tingle-... as it flared with purpose. That purpose would be to hurl Ash skyward, and if Ash -is- launched, then Rose will take flight after him, pushing off with her legs, reaching for M. Crimson with one slender-fingered hand.
Her touch is gentle--but what she does is not, as she pours her Soul Power into Ash, a shocking, electric-like feeling, and yet not, as she uses that hand to grip his clothing, to redirect him around her--and back down into the dancefloor, on his back.
COMBATSYS: Rose successfully hits Ash with Aura Soul Throw.
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Ash 1/--=====/=======|===----\-------\0 Rose
Trifle it may be, but a curious one, nonetheless. He never asked specifically /what/ before of Alma, and it seems that such power is definitely not exclusive to the Scarred Beauty of Southtown; other people are capable of 'flinging their soul' at him. The Frenchman now has the desire to know, but he's not going to break down the door in order to find out. If she doesn't feel like sharing such information, then Ash is perfectly content with that. There are other methods available to him, should he care to peruse them.
Halted by Rose's forearm, there's not much else to do but drop and land where he'd prefer to remain: On his feet, unharmed. Unfortunately, the fates have other plans in mind for the Frenchman... The first thing he tries to do, noting what is NOT FOG condensing around his legs, is move, but Ash is firmly locked in place. "Merde!" He curses in his native tongue, and the flamewielder is rocketed at the lights and ceiling.
In an attempt to keep his momentum, Ash grabs for the light fixture, but wildly misses. His blue eyes widen, his body naturally twisting to land when the fortune-teller's hand closes over a thin wrist. For a brief moment, his gaze may lock with hers, cold and empty, before the baby blues disappear, lids clenched shut over them. The painful sensation is almost like being electrocuted, and he cries out in pain before it stops. Redirected by his fighting attire, the Frenchman hits the dance floor heavily, even bounces, lying on his back and dazed.
This will not be the grand finale - he isn't out yet. Ash recovers after a moment, rolling to his front and pushing up. "Ahaha, I hope you wouldn't consider that just a trifle." Sitting back on his heels, the flamewielder sorts his hair, combing it back into place with his fingers, "Well, I suppose I should try harder." And at those lazy words, not even facing his opponent, a rising pillar of wax-like flames seems to assist its master to his feet, summoned from nowhere. Soon lost within the burning conflagration, his voice can be heard over the roar of fire, Ash speaking just one word, "Burn."
Embracing himself in the midst of burning chaos, head falling back and enthralled by his own power, the verdant flames lift off the Frenchman in a towering wave. The crowd shrieks, stumbling over each other to get the hell out of the way, but the bubbling mass has no intentions to consume them. Instead, it intends to crash down upon Rose herself. What will she do!?
COMBATSYS: Rose reflects Sans-Culottes from Ash with Turquoise Soul Overdrive.
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Ash 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Rose
Rose lands lightly, mere moments after Ash does--only, her landing is controlled, her heels clicking on the floor, inaudibly, as she lands--the square of heavyweight plexiglass flaring a light purple as she does, throwing highlights into her hair. She isn't far from Ash, at all, as she addresses him. "No... a trifle it was not," she agrees, plesantly enough. "I'm holding nothing back; such is the strength of the power I sense within you, Mr. Crimson. I feel that if I were to allow myself a lapse of alertness... if I were to allow myself a lapse of pride... then you would most certainly capitalize."
And then there's time for nothing else--Ash is exploding with that green fire, the bubbling hissing mass of energy streaming for Rose. Surely, the pure concentration of energy, itself, must unsettle a fighter; even those who are used to manipulating energy, for a technique like this... it's elegant, but there is an underlying brutality to it, a singularity of harmful purpose, that seems to emanate from it. Rose feels it--and she isn't immune to it. it shows in the tightening of her eyes, as she confronts the mass of energy.
But not for nothing is she the power behind the YFCC; her scarf is grasped and she whips it down, then up. As she moves, more power floods the silk object--pure turquoise in color, a touch of green coming through from the scarf--and the green mass of flame slams into the scarf... then Rose slams her palms into the scarf and the green mass is swallowed up by a bursting flare of that turquiose power, splashing out into Ash, a bright flash that makes many of the patrons curse and avert their eyes...
But behind it, Rose looks utterly calm and ready still, her scarf returned to her shoulders.
Capitalize, hm? Rose certainly has a fairly accurate assessment of his personality: Ash Crimson is a man who will not let opportunity pass him by, as seen earlier. He does not wish to regret his inaction later on...
Although, perhaps at times, he may look back and regret his haste. Huh, interesting.
Eyes closed, still locked in self-embrace, the intricate tapestry woven by Soul Power and silk is sadly missed. It is only when something just feel /WRONG/ to him that Ash blinks red--no, blue eyes back open, his fair head inclining to the side, peering blankly at... a return of his flames? No. Is it her unidentifiable energy? He's confused, and too slow to react. Whatever this may be, the turquoise-tinted energy slams forcefully into him, knocking the Frenchman off his feet and onto his rump.
Shocked at first, his expression transforms smoothly into a wide smile. The flamewielder immediately begins to laugh, "That was quite unexpected!" But for all the amusement that he projects, Ash is actually rather annoyed, "I'm glad you're not holding back, otherwise I might feel insulted." Dragging himself to his feet for what is the twenty-fifth time (okay, maybe not) tonight, the Frenchman flips his hair, keeping his cool outwardly and appearing relaxed, "And I won't make the same mistake twice."
He should really just... burn her scarf to cinders. It would be a sound strategy.
Seconds later, Ash blurs into motion. Not with fire, though. He just all-out charges, twisting, knee drawn up, then foot swung around out. It's a weird roundhouse kick meets fruity pirouette. How can this even be called an attack when it looks more like ballet...
COMBATSYS: Rose dodges Ash's Floreal.
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Ash 0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0 Rose
Rose is no stranger to 'weird' kick attacks, certainly; she's got enough of them in her arsenal. Ash's kick, as weird as it is, looks as though it may make contact--Rose doesn't seem as though she's moving. But... okay, so she's showing off. Just a little. Ash's kick scrags... an image, which dissipates, showing that Rose--the real one--is about three paces in back of Ash. How'd she manage that? Well, it's something that Ash's friend Duo Lon might have been able to manage, certainly--there are others that can do something similar.
She offers no mocking, no patter; the Mistress of Soul Power inclines her head to Ash. "Mr. Crimson, I guarantee you that I am doing no such thing. I would hardly wish to insult a man of your caliber with the merest hint that I am taking you anything less than completely seriously." That said, she feels compelled to demonstrate her own 'weird kicks'...
And so she takes a long step forward, her scarf coiling around her left hand, glowing bright blue--a brighter shade than the turquoise of earlier, cored with white--and she directs it into the ground. It forms a base, a stand, holding up Rose's weight as she literally goes horizontal on it, kicking outwards with both feet.
COMBATSYS: Ash fails to interrupt Strong Kick from Rose with Nivose.
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Ash 0/-------/---====|=------\-------\0 Rose
At least Rose doesn't do any creepy skeleton replacement stuff, right? Duo Lon's weird techniques freak Ash right out. They're very unnerving!
His foot literally cuts the image in half, but Ash has struck nothing. The Frenchman frowns, eyeing Rose shrewdly through the remains of energy, collecting his arms around himself. He stands at ease, platinum-blonde hair falling away from his freckled face. "Of course, ahaha." The momentum of this fight has been taken away from him... He perceives himself at a disadvantage - how to recover from it becomes the question.
Casually lifting a hand, Ash makes a rather deceiving, inattentive show of checking his fingernails, flashing lights and pulsing strobes reflected off the black and white polish. What can be done? Perhaps he'll wait for another opening...
Luckily, one becomes available to him sooner than expected: Rose is supported by her... scarf? What is going on? This is all very interesting, however! Ash has to prepare. His opponent has lifted both legs, kicking, so the flamewielder crouches. The heel of his white shoe ignites with bubbling, wax-like flames, but, in a rather anticlimactic way, the man is blinded by a particularly bright flash of white from the dance floor and booted in the back of the head. He spills forwards, hands meeting the ground, carrying his legs over, recovery met by a rather loud applause.
%Up-right and beaming, scratching the wounded cheek from earlier, Ash says, "Oops! My bad."
Even having taken over the momentum of the fight--having done so in a flash of a moment, which many of the spectators may not necessarily know or understand--Rose is not looking overly happy. Oh, she doesn't -unhappy-, either... but she doesn't have quite the emotional investment in this fight that she would, say, were she facing Vega, or one of the other lieutenants of Shadaloo. And this is, at heart, a charity fight. She won't give quarter, but she doesn't feel the urgency that she might otherwise feel, to win--to destroy.
"Your equanimity is impressive, Mr. Crimson. Many whom I've... encountered... would hardly be so cheery, finding themselves in such a position." Her eyes narrow slightly, as if considering something. "Or... is this a front...?" Her tone is light, but her eyes searching--she remembers that cold look in Ash's eyes, just before she threw him to the floor. That isn't usual...
"Well. I suppose it is just about time to 'finish this', eh?" She whips her scarf off her shoulders again; responding to her will, it flares with energy once more, forming a drill-like shell around her right arm as she drives forward, her legs powering her through as she aims the scarf right for Ash's chest.
COMBATSYS: Ash dodges Rose's Soul Spiral.
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Ash 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Rose
Oh, of course. It is to be expected that an emotional investment would be lacking during a charity event. This is not a fight against Kyo Kusanagi for him, or anyone that he particulars cares for. It is undeserving of his anger or full power.
... Ash is just disappointed with the results of half-hearted effort (cough), which usually works very well for him. What a strange individual.
His smile, now fixed firmly in place, grows wider, "Saa, I wonder which one it is..." Tapping a long fingernail against his lower lip, the Frenchman's voice drops and he speaks softly. Perhaps lost to the continued throb of music - that heavy bass is actually giving him a bit of a headache. They're fighting too close to the speakers for his liking.
Still mysterious, his blue eyes vanish, and the flamewielder utters a gentle chuckle, "But I really am a cheerful person." Is he just saying this to add more confusion? Rose thrusts that... drill-scarf at him, so it might be a while before all is revealed. Forcing himself to remain in the dark, he disappears, hitting the floor instinctively. Supported by both hands, Ash's legs act like a sort of snare, attempting to trap the fortune-teller by her ankles.
"You're more than welcome to try, Mademoiselle." Ash is resiliant. Brushing his long fringe back, he shrugs casually, "I can't promise it will be easy."
COMBATSYS: Rose dodges Ash's Light Kick.
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Ash 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Rose
"Indeed. I wouldn't expect it to be..." is the response Rose gives. Ash goes low, and Rose can't see what he's doing--but experience and extra senses aid her in knowing just what to do. Still extended, she hurls herself into an unnatural arc--there's only the briefest flex of her legs before she's leaping upwards, spinning around as she goes overhead, returning her scarf to her shoulders as she lands facing where Ash was. "I would not want you to make it 'easy'... any more than you would want me to do the same, no?" As the fight passes, she truly begins to understand more of the way Ash moves--she hasn't yet gained insight into the man's mind, particularly since that isn't her focus, and she suspects that truly understanding the man would take quite some time. But he is marked as someone that bears greater interest. And he has interest in Alma, does he not?
She lashes her scarf out one more time, using it as a conduit for the Soul Power that is her birthright; it surges, as a pulse, down the scarf and flares off it into a roiling ball of coruscating, purple-blue-white energy--hopefully she's placed it so that Ash will have a hard choice in dealing with it...
COMBATSYS: Ash dodges Rose's Soul Spark.
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Ash 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Rose
Missing the woman, this will probably turn into the most frustrating game of tag... Eventually, one is going to catch the other, but who? In reply to Rose, Ash says, "Obviously." He grins, planting both feet on the floor, still crouching, elbows to his knees with both arms outstretched, "They want to see a show - this /is/ a charity event, ahaha." The red-clad man giggles girlishly, splaying thin fingers over his wide slash of a mouth... Which is good, because then Ash yawns. "Ah, should've taken a longer nap today."
He's so incredibly lazy. Even with all the King of Fighters preparations, Ash still finds the time to snooze. Lucky bastard.
As the scarf flares to life with her energy once again, the Frenchman can't help his languid smirk. The game continues, and he stays true to his word. It is not going to be easy at all! Ash leaps clean over the ball of colour, not terribly concerned where it ends up, landing right in front of the Soul Power master. His height is not especially impressive compared to hers, but the flamewielder still, somehow, manages to loom.
Both hands against his hips, he leans forwards what is only an inch or two, face level with Rose's, but still a respectable distance away. Ash isn't invading her personal space on camera, "Too slow." He says, teasing. But what lurks behind that jovial remark is something sinister. An omen of things to come. For now, the flamewielder just attempts to bury his fist into the woman's abdomen.
COMBATSYS: Rose fails to interrupt Medium Punch from Ash with Soul Drain.
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Ash 0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0 Rose
Rose's breath blows out of her in a gush, as Ash's fist buries itself in her stomach. That's a natural physical reaction; she stumbles back from the punch, her right hand going to the impacted area for a moment. "Indeed," she murmurs, under her breath. "This won't be easy at all." It's no imagination; she can -feel- the balance around her, tipping precariously one way or another... Ash has regained a large portion of the balance, Rose can feel this. But not all is lost. To her surprise, she's starting to feel that old competitive fire, starting to burn within her.
All this takes just a moment; she halts her stumble and returns to standing upright, raising her arms once again, hands open. "An accurate, powerful punch, there, Mr. Crimson. Truly, I must thank you for this opportunity." She can't, after all, really let loose on most of the YFCC people... Alma is probably the closest to being able to 'dance' with her properly...
But she hasn't fought him in a while, and she doesn't really fight the YFCC folks too often. She is the power -behind- the scenes, after all, not the public facing...
Is there really so few who come comparatively close to Rose in raw power and ability? The top certainly sounds like a lonely place to be, even with Alma around... Ash, on the other hand, has plenty rivals in skill. He can always go throw a slushie at Iori Yagami if he's feeling particularly bored, or annoy Shenwoo into punching him. That latter option usually takes less time and doesn't cost any money. His roommate is very violent!
His aim is true, fist find its mark, and the Frenchman draws back, ready for retaliation. Instead, Rose speaks, and he laughs, "You fight quite well, Mademoiselle." But the mutual exchange of pleasantries is not lasting, like before. If the fortune-teller has nothing for him, then the flamewielder will strike again, to the best of his ability. He reaches for the collar of her top--woah, Ash, that's not very appropriate!
Ha ha, just kidding.
If Rose does not manage to evade the grab, since their game of tag has hopefully ended, the lean fighter twists around, supporting her weight with his other arm as he swings the woman up and over, throwing her at the flashing dance floor. Afterwards, Ash dramatically... sorts his hair, again. He's a very fussy person! Wouldn't want to look bad or anything.
COMBATSYS: Rose dodges Ash's Quick Throw.
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Ash 0/-------/--=====|======-\-------\0 Rose
At the YFCC... yes. In the wider world... no. However, Rose rarely goes out simply seeking power. She recognizes it, catalogues it, interacts with it when she needs to, but unlike fighters like Ryu, who seek out those who can challenge them for the -sake- of that challenge, Rose walks a different path. (Well, floats, sometimes.) To look at it dispassionately, this attitude may be what keeps her from taking a place amongst the truly powerful. She knows that there are many who are -more- powerful than her--more skilled--but she's already set herself on the path she walks...
"I fight as well as I can, Mr. Crimson. But thank you... I appreciate the compliment." The pleasantries are, indeed, nice--many fighters wouldn't bother, preferring to concentrate, or to use snark and harsh word to unsettle the opponent. So it -is- pleasant. The woman flows backwards from Ash's attempt to ensnare her, fading just inches away from the grasping fingers of one Ash Crimson.
And as she fades back she's firing a kick--her last step puts her on her left foot, and so it's her right foo that flicks up and out, seeking Ash's stomach--a blow that would be painful, if not quite injurious. It -is- charity.
The spectators have been mesmerized, especially by Ash's tenaciousness and the turnaround of his fortunes--it seems the pretty/handsome Frenchman's earned more than a few admirers.
COMBATSYS: Rose successfully hits Ash with Medium Kick.
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Ash 0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0 Rose
Rose's path is a very interesting one, but not his style. Ryu's isn't, either. What exactly is it that the Frenchman is doing with himself? Many people would love to know this, but he reveals nothing, one way or the other. Drives the likes of Elisabeth Blanctorche nuts, surely.
It would seem that pleasantries insist on continuing, though he had tried to put them past him - Ash can be very rude, like so many others, but here... It does him no good. His opponent is too calm and collected. The flamewielder is certain such attitude would make him look bad, in the end. He salutes Rose at her appreciation, then is kicked in the stomach as she dodges his grabbing attempt.
The air is forced from his lungs, whooshing out audiably, and he instinctively curls around the area, but Ash is definitely not injured, no. He laughs breathlessly, "I think this might be my limit." The flamewielder's smile is apologetic, and he adds, "Normally, I wouldn't bother, but since this is a special occasion..." Even if he hadn't fought Alma, as was the Frenchman's original plan...
When her foot is retracted, Ash spins, back to the YFCC head. He uses both hands against the dance floor, music surging as he moves, almost in sync. Kicking off, verdant flames come blazing back to life again, igniting upon his shoe's white heel. He brings his legs over once, then surrenders himself entirely, backflipping again and again. There's three in total, each more brutal than the last... until Crimson lands heavily, stumbling. "Ouch, I think I twisted my ankle." A pause. "No wait, it's okay." False alarm!
COMBATSYS: Ash can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rose 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: Rose dodges Ash's Pluviose.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Rose 0/-------/-======|
It's flashy as hell, for certain; Rose doesn't deny Ash his epic moment... but she does deny him the satisfaction of that final attack. She makes a show out of it, since it -is- a charity fight, and she weaves back and forth, slipping the first kick to her left, the next to her right--and the last... well, the last she recreates a trick she used earlier, letting the last kick shatter another illusion as Rose comes to a rest just past the edge of that last burst of flame.
"Thank you, Mr. Crimson, for a most wonderful match. It was truly a joy to be forced to fight to my full abilities." In fact, when the fire clears, Rose can be seen... wearing her -usual- usual getup, the dress with the big brass buttons and all that, though she surely didn't have time to change, did she?!?
Stepping towards Ash, Rose offers him a hand to shake--whether he takes it or not, there's a wild, loud cheering, equal parts Ash and Rose, and the announcer on the mic finally. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! WHAT A FIGHT!!! GIVE IT UP FOR ASH CRIMSON AND ROSE!!" And they are, oh they are. Ash may be fruity, but some of these women are clearly in lust--things are piling up on the dance floor, flung at Ash... and some of them are frilly. Rose looks at them, and gives Ash a half-impressed, half-disgusted (at the crowd) look. "It seems you are, in the end, still successful.. in some ways."
COMBATSYS: Rose has ended the fight here.
How the heck does she do that?
... And are those undies?
Ash's face goes red with embarrassment. Oh my. His freckles stand out quite clearly, "And you, Mademoiselle." Her name is Rose, the Frenchman learns, shaking the woman's hand, their battle over, with a bemused smile. He can't help it. So what if Crimson missed, UNDERWEAR!
The half-impressed look, though mingled with disgust, earns a girlish titter, "Ah, well, yes, perhaps, I don't really know." He says, rubbing the straight bridge of his long nose. The flamewielder shrugs helplessly - let them do what they will! "Hopefully we may meet again in the near future." Like the King of Fighters tournament. If not, then who knows when the fortune-teller may encounter Ash Crimson a second time.
"I think I'll be calling a taxi and escaping out the back." He gives the Soul Power master a quick wave, then disappears around the DJ booth. From there, he locates a convenient fire exit and just goes! It's like escaping magic, only not.
He wouldn't be able to quietly enjoy a drink in this place now anyway.
Log created on 18:49:40 01/07/2011 by Ash, and last modified on 19:20:32 01/14/2011.