Description: Malin needs a break from stress. So, she does what any tourist would do. She goes to vandalize a national monument in order to have something to take home! Thrills! Spills! Danger! And an angry templar stand in her way. Can anyone break through Malin's hot-headed independent streak, and point out... she really needs to learn her limits? Or will she continue battering her head against an unbreakable wall of her own stubborn teenage spirit?!
"The Great Wall of China? Are you serious?"
"Is beautiful, Amy Johnson! You will like it!"
"I better had."
"I have finest information to trade! You will like. Trust me."
"Okay, Dusan. I'll see you there."
It was one of the more surreal meeting places she had been given since her quest begun; if only because it lacked the archaic, obscure nature of just about every other locale she had visited. There was little sense in seeking the sought-after in the most famous places - a hundred thousand seekers had already been over these sites with a fine toothcomb, regardless of sense of or logical importance to the goal. If it can be seen from space, it is significant enough to have been earmarked as the solution for somebody's mythical riddle.
So it is that Amy steps out onto the uneven, impossible length of China's most famed landmark. Dark, stormy eyes lid slightly against the wind as she sights along the miles to the promontory agreed as the rendezvous. What would her boisterous Romanian friend possibly have to tell her that necessitated such a bizarre request? She thinks about it a moment and then laughs, softly, to herself - drawing an impassively questioning gaze from a passing native couple. In hindsight, she suspects he merely wanted an excuse to see the Wall.
And surely, it does possess a curious beauty.
The Templar's walk takes her some two hours, because far be it for her to choose the easiest and most direct route. About halfway along, she stops to purchase refreshment from a trader of indeterminate age. Clad in swaddled robes and a knitted cap of rather ill-suiting colour, he grins at her, baring the blackness and the gaps in his teeth as they converse in Chinese. It is a rudimentary conversation, though he seems to be trying to sell her something, gesticulating toward the simple money pouch in her hand as he bends low to dig in his rough sack. Amy arches an eyebrow, taking a long sip from her purchased waterskin and looking from the trader to her destination.
Sometimes, she has to wonder. Does life get any odder?
Malin is bored.
Look, okay, these things happen. Yes, she's got a bomb in her blood that could kill her at a moment's notice (or something like that, God only knows the specifics), but that doesn't help to alleviate the crushing, mind-numbing boredom that comes with having nothing to /do/. The tournament isn't actually on them yet, and so her 'duties' were rather limited.
So why not come out to one of China's most famous landmarks?
Life can't be all hardcore violence and drama all the time, sometimes a girl just needs to go out, and vandalize a national treasure for kicks. Nobody seems to have noticed the slender, bandana-clad Malin as she slipped up to the wall, and nobody really seems to notice her even now. The girl has a talent for blending into the background.
Amy might just notice her, though, because she's not that far out of the girl's peripheral vision. A razor-sharp knife has been drawn from somewhere about her person, and she's now levering it in at one of the key points. Sure, she could steal one of the /already/ loose bricks, but where's the challenge in that? Selecting from about waist height, she's busily doing her best to undo the work of countless generations of Chinese nationals. Hohoho~
Despite the whipping wind that drowns out a great deal of ambient sound, the /scraping/ is what registers first, a grating noise that seems to nag at the back of the brain. Amy cringes faintly as she recognises the sound - metal upon rough-hewn limestone - and more deeply when it begins to irritate to the point of distraction. Much longer and she will develop a headache. She does not pay particular attention to the girl at the edge of vision, at least until the trader straightens up with an enthusiastic exclamation, pushing a bundle toward her and beginning his sales pitch - irrespective of the fact she is unable to fully comprehend him...
And then it's the man himself that notices, his jabbering patois winding down to a stammer as his dull brown eyes slip from the Templar to the nearby brick-burglar. Amy cannot help but follow his gaze, becoming aware in that moment of exactly what was causing the unwelcome noise. It may be rather unexpected that, rather than react with annoyance or simply call out to the girl to stop, she simply smiles. But the 'why' soon becomes apparent, as the uncertainly-aged man suddenly breaks into a dash along the wall, waving his arms and addressing Malin in a high-pitched frantic tone.
The Templar sighs softly, stowing away the waterskin in the small rucksack at her feet and shouldering the small burden before following the Chinaman's steps at a more leisurely pace, drifting upon behind him a moment after he reaches the little thief, by which point he is jabbing his finger at her insistently. It's not the kind of gesture that requires translation. Which doesn't mean Malin won't be given one.
"I think," Amy calls out as she approaches, crisp tone breaking clearly across the gibberish of the trader, "He's trying to tell you that we're not allowed to take souvenirs!" She smiles, canting her head and rolling her gaze to indicate the rather angry chap. "Maybe if you ask him nicely, he'll be able to sell you something that you can take home to your parents, /without/ incurring a fine?"
Well, that sounded a little condescending.
Malin actually smirks, shaking her head a little as the man comes over, jabbering like a man possessed. Isn't this really what life is all about?
The girl turns, and casually slides her knife into the wall behind her as she leans up against it. A mock-innocent look is given to Amy, so saccharine sweet that it can't possibly be genuine. "Oh, is that /really/ what he's saying?~" She asks, grinning from ear to ear as she does. Her fingers wrap around the brick, and she draws it out with a grating of stone on stone. The mortar above cracks, and she balances the brick on one finger, to the wide-eyed horror of the unfortunate salesman.
"That's real nice of you to watch out for me, and all. But, this isn't for my parents. It's for me! Something to remember my wonderful time in China by, you know?"
She winks, still balancing the brick vertically on her finger. "I'd love to see them try to fine me, though! Maybe I can pass it on to the people I work for, that'd be great! I still get to keep my souvenir, right?"
The girl's whole attitude is intolerably smug. She knows she's doing wrong, and maybe it is a bit vindictive and spiteful to take out her frustrations on the people of China, and this poor vendor particularly. But it isn't as though she's actually /hurt/ anyone. At least, not yet. And it is kind of funny, isn't it? All this fuss over a bunch of old stones! People get so uppity about silly things like property and history.
One might fairly say that the Templar was asking for that kind of response from the girl; to insult a teenager's maturity is to taste the wrath of their delinquency. As the trader stares at Malin, his erstwhile customer leans back on her heels, folding her arms loosely about her midriff as she fixes the girl with a much cooler look. It's not quite frosty - but it's getting there. However, the smile remains upon her lips as she addresses the roguette once more, with the chilly patience of a responsible adult on the verge of putting their foot down.
"Might I suggest that next time you steal from ancient monuments, you wear something a little less... obvious." She's like one of those fake ninjas that seem to plague those intolerable Japanese cartoons. "Come on, child. Play fair. Put the brick back and move along before the authorities get brought into this." She glances to one side, cricking her neck faintly before the faint smile she wears becomes more of a smirk, "Or at least before I get an even bigger headache." And right on cue, the trader starts to yell, red-faced and actually stamping his feet as he gets all up in the dimunitive thief's grill.
Sighing, the Templar decides to take some action to end the situation, stepping forward and extending one arm to push the man back a foot or so away away as with the other reaches with confident incaution around the girl, fingers on her opposite hand moving to clasp onto the knife protruding from the Wall. She can at least confiscate the blade before the apparent delinquent does something even more stupid. She's already starting to say something else, but let's face it - she's not going to get past the first syllable, is she?
"Hey, the day I take fashion advice from someone who can't even afford a jacket that hasn't been mauled, is the day I lay down and die."
Malin doesn't respond well to being treated like a kid. She held the Champion's Belt for a while! She's /Malin/, one of the best fighters in the world, and she's sure as hell not going to let some uppity Gaijin tell her what to do. It's pretty clear that Amy is taking the lead in this situation, though, and the trader is completely ignored. He can rage all he likes, he's not going to be relevant in any meaningful way.
It might come as a surprise that Malin lets the Templar clasp her fingers around the blade of the knife. But, that's as far as things go. The brick is tossed up into the air, where it flies for quite a surprising distance. But, already, Malin is following up after it. The girl aims to tread on the knife, lodged in the wall, and with it, Amy's fingers.
If she can manage this, she'll complete a graceful arc. This would, normally, be quite an impressive display of acrobatics. Flipping off a knife embedded in the wall. But it seems unlikely that Amy is going to be in any position to admire it, because Malin intends to kick her, underneath the chin, and send her stumbling, forcefully, backwards.
If these best laid plans go to their fruition, she'll finish the display by ending up balanced on her knife, and catching the brick in one hand, whilst wagging a finger at Amy with the other. If she gets to be a /completely/ insufferable brat, she'll even say, tauntingly.
"Now now. It isn't /nice/ to take other people's things without asking, is it?"
COMBATSYS: Malin has started a fight here.
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Malin 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Amy has joined the fight here.
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Malin 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Amy
COMBATSYS: Amy fails to interrupt Light Kick from Malin with Fast Throw.
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Malin 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Amy
"Fff-! You little bitch!"
This may be the first time anybody has made Amy Johnson swear since she donned the shining silver cross that hangs about her neck. It comes out in an indignant hiss as the tiny slip of a thug brings a sneaker-clad foot down upon her fingers. This flare of anger carries with it a sudden and deliberate instinct, and as Malin's other foot comes up to smack her beneath the chin, her hands fly upward - throbbing digits or no - to catch the striking limb. But it comes a microsecond too late, and the Templar is sent skidding back across the limestone, digging in with booted heels to just barely prevent falling.
Glancing past the tradesman, who is retreating back a few paces, his indignance silenced after receiving a close and personal view of the action, Amy presses a palm to her jaw. That hurt. Far, far more than it should have done. Stormy blue eyes narrow as she falls into a fighting stance, raising a loose and comfortable guard as she roots herself upon the Great Wall. Malin's acrobatics are impressive - she strikes hard, and her balance is almost unearthly. But an insult is an insult.
"I wasn't going to make an issue of this," which is something of a lie - but she certainly wasn't going to start throwing punches, or hurling around the mist which even now creeps in along the base of the ancient bricks, miniscule wisps of smokelike energy curling into life, "But I think I'll be prying that brick from your limp fingers. And then," she tightens one hand to a fist, tossing her head with a flighty pride that only somebody this irritating could bring out so quickly, "I'll deliver you to Shanhaigua myself."
Shanhaiguan, kthx
Malin rolls her eyes, and in a blur of motion, the brick is secreted somewhere about her body. God only knows where. The girl isn't wearing clothing baggy enough to conceal it. But, then, she's also got a sword and a freakin' giant mallet in there somewhere, so perhaps this is something we shouldn't dwell on too long before the suspension of disbelief takes such an enormous blow that even this blatant appeal to the fourth wall seems tacky.
Tacky or not, the girl raises one leg behind her, to balance on one foot on the dagger, and lets her arms stretch out to the side, in a clear mockery of the 'crane' stance. She smirks, and meets Amy's eye. "Look, lady, you /clearly/ don't know who you are dealing with. And that's fine. I suppose when you have the fashion sense of mold, living under a rock comes natural, right?"
She snickers, "I'm /Malin/. Yes, /the/ Malin. And if you've got an ounce of common sense in that noggin of yours, you'll just turn around, and walk away. I'll be on my way, and only Chin Chins over there will have to cry himself to sleep tonight. What's it going to be?"
The girl's attitude really is terrible. She'd been making such headway into being a good person before NESTs got a hold of her, too! Clearly hanging out with Angel is doing horrible things for Malin's moral compass. As though that was ever really going to be in doubt.
COMBATSYS: Malin takes no action.
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Malin 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Amy
The eerie motes of the Dragon's Breath continue to coalesce into forbidding tendrils atop the Great Wall as Malin postures and preens atop her weapon. Amy watches her with as much a pervading sense of calm as she can muster, forcing down the initial frustration and allowing the earth to sooth her as she summons its power. 'The' Malin, huh? The Templar merely shakes her head, sinking a little deeper into stance and extending her fist. Her fingers unfurl, gripping catlike at the air around a tensed and quivering palm.
"I'll turn around and walk away."
The pronouncement seems to echo as the gathering mists rise from the ancient bricks, flooding the apparent battlefield that lies between thief and knight. Dark eyes remain focuses upon the former, and the latter makes no attempt to move - she certainly does not seem to be leaving. And the faded smile returns to brush at her lips. Suddenly she drops low to the ground, seems to flicker and fade amongst the looping, gray-white mulch of the fog.
Amy says, "Once I've wiped the smirk from your pockmarked face."
That part seems to come from all sides, and suddenly a trio of indistinct shapes stream up over the crenellations - two from the fore, and one from directly behind the roguette. The mustered energy seems to let loose a roar of its own, a haunted howl, as these three spirits explode toward Malin, gaining form and consistency as they travel until each comes to resemble the very image of the Templar herself. Detailed in white and gray. One lashes out toward that upheld brick, mistlike fingers reaching for the fragment of wall; another dives in a sweeping, flying kick aimed for Malin's legs.
And the other seems set to strike her before it fades away.
"In England!"
Amy's voice rings out from below the cocky youth, as she springs from out of nowhere to rise up with an uppercutting palm, aiming to catch her as she topples from her doppleganger's kick with a fast and thunderous strike clean to the nose. On a mere mortal, it would be a knockout blow; but she can already tell that the petite blonde is no such thing.
"We have something called Clearasil. Have you heard of it?""
COMBATSYS: Malin dodges Amy's Preserving the Myth.
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Malin 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Amy
Malin is nothing if not quick on her feet. She'd be lying if she said she saw the attack coming - who the heck sees something like that coming? - But she is quick enough to know when she needs to move. The girl leaps into the air, and the trio of spirits pass beneath her. She lands down on the ground, and spins, a hint of irritation across her features.
"My skin is perfect, you stupid Gaijin! It'll take more than some cheating tricks to scare ME!"
Prideful to a fault, she's not going to let the fact this woman can summon ghosts make her back down. Instead, she flings her hand forwards, and a yoyo goes buzzing from her palm. It would, normally, be a joke, surely? It's a children's toy, and Malin had seemed so intent on proving she's not a kid...
Something which becomes more apparent when blades spring out from the side of the 'toy', turning it into a buzzing saw which aims to rip and tear into Amy's back. Razorwire, not merely string, loops, and tries to tangle around her legs, too. Pulling tight as Malin puts her weight on it.
"Just remember, lady, YOU started this fight, not me! I was happy to walk away, not even school you for those awful boots."
COMBATSYS: Amy overcomes Onigumo from Malin with Night Errant.
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Malin 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Amy
"The only thing perfect about you," the Templar rejoins as she lands upon her feet, whipping stormy blue eyes across her shoulder as she foolishly leaves her back presented to her opponent, "Is the example you'll be setting to the arrogant children who think they have a right to ruin the world their elders and betters have given them. I /didn't/ start this fight, Malin."
She narrows her gaze upon that ridiculous projectile, espying the bright colours upon the chunksome toy and deciding immediately that this is some manner of trick. She felt the power behind that opening kick - has seen too well the speed and grace with which this pest can move. And she is not new to the idea that there are people younger than here who have more aptly mastered their powers. Which is not to see she has any respect for this would-be thug.
As the yo-yo flies in, bristling with the promise of pain, the mists discharged into a thick haze with the dissipation of those three 'ghosts' suddenly billows and sways toward the Templar. It moves fast enough to send her raven black hair into a wild stream, bangs blowing past her intensely staring eyes and all but obscuring from view the effects of her own counter-attack as the three become one; a single ghostly figure leaping from the Templar's shoulders. It's a spookily beautiful thing, the simulacrum of her own person that spins about, knocking Malin's projectile from the air before springing into a leap.
"You did. Your attitude is appalling. /Grow up/!"
The errant mist-form lashes out at the girl, an extended fist erupting into a hundred minute, whipping tendrils as it closes in for an impact with her cute, tomboyish features.
COMBATSYS: Malin dodges Amy's Night Errant.
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Malin 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Amy
"Oh, grow a sense of humor, grandma!" Malin exclaims, a little frustrated that her yoyo was dealt with so easily. These ghosts are weird, they clearly have some kind of physical form, not just a trick, but, she had no idea how on earth Amy is doing it. Luckily, like most things, they are only dangerous if they can actually touch you, and Malin has no intention of letting herself be touched.
She rolls forwards as the mist-form comes at her, and slides /underneath/ the tendrils. Moving shockingly fast, she comes up from her diving roll with two twin tubes in her hands, "Not that I'm surprised you think this is /my/ fault." She says, as she throws herself forwards, aiming to drive both those weapons into Amy's sides. If they connect, a truly staggering amount of electricity is discharged into the Templar, aiming to give her quite the jolt! Malin's techniques might not be as flashy as Amy's, but they are sneaky and underhanded in a far more direct way.
"Kids today, we're just... /shocking/!"
COMBATSYS: Amy interrupts Electric Prod EX from Malin with Bitter Crusade.
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Malin 0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0 Amy
"Slippery."
Amy barely breathes the word as she tracks Malin's movements, a little awed - in spite of herself - at the sheer quickness of the girl. The roguette seems no more than a flash of blonde and burgundy glancing between the greyscale blanket of mist. It is only a warrior's instinct coupled with the gentle clink of those conductors that forewarns the Templar she is about to be assaulted in her turn. But what is presumed as the crackle of chi is sorely misjudged as she spins upon her heels, falling immediately into a deeply rooted stance - ready to soak the impact of the incoming blow.
Real electricity is, however, rather different from the mystical powers of Gaia. As Amy darts her hands forward to seize control of those rods, she receives a vicious shock. Quite literally. Her heart leaps in her chest and her entire body quakes as nerve endings scream in unison. "Damn it," she hisses, following through with her motion even as she loses momentary control of sight and spacing. Allowing her training to take over, she hauls back on the extended prods and turns from the centre, sending Malin careening past her toward the waiting edge of the wall.
She puts enough force behind it that the slender little thief will find herself crashing off the ancient bricks, and rebounding toward the darkly-clad vigilante. "Relax, Sparky," Amy remarks distantly, ready and waiting with the intent expression of a huntress, stepping around the incoming girl and lashing out with a rapid palmstrike to send her toppling to the unforgiving limestone. "Have a little lie down." Tossing her head, the Templar straightens up with a sigh, allowing the tension to flow from her body.
Oddly enough, she almost feels like she's starting to have fun.
Malin is taken by surprise by the reversal of her move. Satisfied, at least, that it wasn't totally fruitless, she still finds herself crashing into the brick wall, hard, and rolling off to the side with a low groan. That had, really hurt! And now this weird woman is trying to hit her with puns? That's just, so not cool. She's going to make her /pay/ for that one.
Flipping up, the girl's feet impact hard with the ancient wall. Showing absolutely no respect for the condition of the monument, small knives dig into the bricks for a fraction of a second, long enough for her to crouch against the wall, and glare down at Amy.
"Lady, you really need to learn when to keep your mouth /shut/."
There's probably more than a little hypocrisy in that, all things considered, but with the words said, Malin suddenly springs from her crouched position. From her legwarmer, a long, curved blade is pulled, and this aims to slice deep into the top of Amy's shoulder, near her collar, as Malin descends. Hit or miss, win or lose, she's not /stopping/ though. She doesn't want to give Amy another chance to hit her, so she jumps backwards. Fully intending to use the shoulders of the fat, angry merchant - who will probably look quite stunned by the sudden weight of teen rogue on his shoulders - to balance for a moment, bouncing around like some kind of awful blonde-haired wonderball!
COMBATSYS: Malin successfully hits Amy with Descending Suzume Bachi.
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Malin 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Amy
Nothing kills 'fun' like an incoming flash of steel, though as Malin soars toward the Templar does not seem any more intimidated than she already did. Is she continuing to underestimate the petty thief? Her gaze is cool and distant as she watches the girl, measuring her impressive acceleration and backsliding a half pace to coincide with the final approach. A heavy-sleeved arm lifts, with gentle strength, intercepting the cource of the strike, only to be thrown aside as she misjudges the trajectory. The blade flies into her collarbone, slicing deep and eliciting a hiss of controlled agony.
"That," Amy notes as she drops back, fingertips flying to her throat to probe down the line of the wound - showing that she is hardly squeamish as she feels out the depth and consistency of it. She draws her hand away with a bold flick, ending a scatter of crimson across the limestone expanse of the Wall. "Is the first time anyone's told /me/ to remain silent in battle." A smile flickers across her lips, and she starts forward with a shake of her head, covering the distance to the roguette with rapid steps.
Apparently as ignorant of the merchant as Malin herself, the Templar closes with a heavenward spring, twisting her body around with athletic style and grace, drawing level with the cocky blonde and then spinning about - a sidelong whipping motion sending her hair into a midnight slash as she reaches out in a blur. The lead-in was telegraphed, but the actual assault comes with surprising speed, as she uses her gathered momentum to seize the girl and /hurl/ her toward the stone.
She lands in a three-point crouch a moment later, stormy eyes upon her foe.
"Fortunately, you have a big enough mouth to eat /both/ of our words."
COMBATSYS: Malin dodges Amy's Strong Throw.
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Malin 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Amy
"Tch, come off it Saint Funkiller. I didn't say you shouldn't talk..."
The girl springs from the poor merchant's shoulders, leaving him to clumsily grab at her legs as she does. Both the merchant's grab, and Amy's, sailing underneath her without much chance of laying a finger on her. She smirks, hitting the ground, and letting her blade reverse in her fingers. Spinning the hilt so that she's grabbing it with the blade laid flush against her inner arm.
"Just that when you are fighting THE Malin..."
Closing on Amy's back, she aims to draw the blade diagonally upwards, before spinning, and kicking into the back of Amy's knee as hard as she can. If this works, the move will be finished by Malin shoving her down to the dirt with one foot between her shoulderblades.
"You wanna be thinking about how to get /out/, not how to piss me off even more. You get me, now?"
A /painfully/ cocky smirk will be given to the merchant, if this has all gone according to Malin's devious plan. Sure, she's leaving herself a bit open to retaliation... but she's been hitting Amy pretty hard! Surely she can't take much more, and with a bit of luck, the templar might even see the error of her ways. Nothing demoralizes someone like being literally trodden into the dirt, after all.
COMBATSYS: Malin successfully hits Amy with Armed Combo.
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Malin 0/-------/---====|=======\-------\1 Amy
Getting out is a little tough when your opponent is as rapid in motion and apparently skilled as this slip-of-a-thing caught stealing. Amy finds herself all but entirely manipulated into the position she ends up in, coming out of her telegraphed manouever with a second sharply pained exhalation, the blade this time making it clean through the thick material of her jacket. It rakes along the spine, distracting enough that she is all too easy prey for what follows. It should be demoralising, beind this outclassed...
Yet somehow the Templar flashes a grin in spite of herself, breathing hard and heavy through the nose as she glances over her shoulder and upward. Her hands clasp in the dust and grime atop the ancient monument, calloused fingertips grinding deep as she forces herself to focus upon the roguette. And only her. It's hard to keep an eye on the girl from this position, but those dark depths strain to maintain contact.
"This is a test, isn't it?" She seethes out after a moment, her back visibly and palpably straining against the pressure from that sneaker-clad foot. Suddenly she moves, toned muscles wrenching her free from her grounded position, hurling Malin's foot off her as she explodes forward into a tight roll. Springing off a shoulder and tensed palm, she ends up on her feet, athletic frame quaking as she immediately closes back in upon the dirty blonde. "You want to see how far I'll go, how much conviction I have?!"
She all but spits the words as she lunges forward with a bone-shuddering palm strike, aiming direct for the sternum. It's telegraphed once more, but punctuated with a fierce kiai at the full extension of the blow - leading directly into a second, thrown from the opposing hand, aiming to all but thrust her hardened flesh /through/ the roguette's gut. "I won't learn anything if I simply lay down!"
COMBATSYS: Malin dodges Amy's Fierce Punch.
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Malin 0/-------/---====|=======\-------\1 Amy
Malin rolls to the side, completing a showy cartwheel as she passes around Amy. Her knife is dropped, which is something, but, at the same time, she completely avoids that vicious strike. From the way Amy shouts, she's pretty glad that she does. Her words, though, are completely baffling. Why should Malin give a damn about Amy's training? This isn't about conviction, or skill. This is about some stuffy woman getting in her way when she's taking a souvenir!
"You are crazy, you know that?" She says, dancing backwards. It's a bit strange to be fighting someone so... intense. Sure, Malin has crossed blades with some wierdos in the past, but, she rarely had someone so worked up just because she was having some fun. Amy isn't even Chinese, what does the wall mean to her?
Malin's hand flings out, and three tiny knives shoot with the motion, aiming to bury themselves in Amy's leg. Hoping to hamper movement, slow Amy's continued attack on her. "I'm not interested in you, lady! You aren't even a blip on my radar! I just want to get out of here and go home, and if that means I have to go through you...!"
COMBATSYS: Amy dodges Malin's Thrown Weapon.
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Malin 0/-------/---====|=======\-------\1 Amy
Her hunting palms find only the wind-strewn air, but the Templar continues to free herself from frustration, righting herself with a toss of her head as she proudly stares down the roguette. She seems to be gaining some kind of momentum now - becoming more focused and alert, as though a weight were lifted from her bruised and bloodied back. Malin's words draw forth a breath of shallow laughter, and Amy arches a brow in response.
"Perhaps I am crazy," she concedes, with a roll of her shoulder as she smoothly sways to one side, stepping around the incoming blades - rolling her leg in a circular motion that almost lends the appearance she has stepped clean through the striking lengths of steel. They whistle past without further regard from the Templar as she springs into a long, low step and pivots her entire body around. Her hair lashes around her, eyes blazing in the last moment they make contact with Malin's own.
And then a boot whirs through the air at the apex of a full pirouette, striking out in a swift and stunning blow to the roguette's bandanna-clad temple. Hit or miss, Amy seamlessly returns to a ready stance with the completion of the motion, raising her arms in a loose guard, her breathing already slower - more regular and controlled. "But at least I'm honest. You've had a dozen chances to get away from me. If you all wanted to do is leave," she pauses to blow upward, dislodging a stray bang of raven hair from her face, "Then why haven't you?"
COMBATSYS: Malin fails to interrupt Light Kick from Amy with Ascending Suzume Bachi.
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Malin 0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1 Amy
Malin narrows her eyes, and as the woman comes at her, yet another knife is drawn from somewhere about her person. A very long, straight edge... mostly because, Amy had a point. She /could/ have run away, but, she hasn't. She's not sure why she's chosen not to. Probably because she really wants to shut Amy's trap, but... also... how long had it been since she'd been in a fight she could win? Angel and her crew had given her a vicious beatdown, and since then, she'd been running up against the real big dogs in the big bad boy's club. Way out of her league. It's a miracle she hasn't broken far more bones than she has.
The girl lunges up, fully intending to drive her weapon right into, and through, Amy as she is kicked at... but it doesn't work. The blow comes through her attack, connects with her head, and she falls backwards, on her ass.
Blowing her hair up out of her eyes, Malin pouts. Not bothering to get up after her failure, she shrugs her shoulders instead. "I don't know, Lady. Obviously it's your /sparkling/ personality. I just can't spend enough time with you!"
A shark back in home waters? For Amy, it is quite the opposite. The majority of her relatively few matches have been not only friendly, but against warriors of a comparable level. It has been a slow lesson in humility for the Templar nonetheless, but nothing has quite opened her eyes like this bout against the unbeknown NESTS operative. Under any other circumstance, she would look at this solely as a positive thing, and even with the cool vendetta of justice driving her her motives she is hard-pressed to see this as anything other than a valuable learning experience.
Sinking a little deeper into her stance, the raven-haired woman responds to Malin's sly sarcasm with a broad, tight smirk. She does not rise to the bait, and says absolutely nothing to dissuade the roguette from her opinion - there is no movement even to beckon her on, or otherwise cajole her into continuing the fight. Her posture if balanced, her shoulders firm and aligned with her root. There is nothing interesting to see here...
Apart from the slowly gathering mist at the fringes of vision, creeping back from it's violent expulsions earlier in the bout. Amy's dark eyes betray nothing, but she is focusing deeply as she regains the illusion of control. Less sparkling than brooding; but the latter can be far more useful.
COMBATSYS: Amy gains composure.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////// ]
Malin 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Amy
"Well, I think that's enough. Time to finish you off!"
A hop to her feet, Malin presses the attack a second time.
She's not just going to let Amy just get away with the way she's talked to her. That's the reason she decides to use to justify her decision to herself. The truth of the matter, well, that's probably something quite different. But don't tell her. As she runs in to meet Amy head to head again, her fingers grip around a hilt...
This is probably not very surprising. What might be, however, is the fact that when she draws it, it isn't just a knife, or a dagger, something which could conceivably be hidden on her form. No. Driving forwards, Malin puts everything she has into running Amy through with a sword easily as big as Malin herself is. Where she got the thing, how she could possibly have been hiding it? Well, that's a mystery for the ages!
COMBATSYS: Amy interrupts Crushing Strike from Malin with Mist Guardian.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Malin 0/-------/=======|=======\==-----\1 Amy
"It's going to take more than that!"
The Templar's cry rings out from a sudden swathe of gray-white fog, her waiting body obscured almost entirely from view as the Dragon's Breath roars forth at her command, streaming in past the edges of vision to meet Malin's headlong charge. That sword continues to drive through the mist as intended, finding purchase in a taut abdomen and even drawing blood, but the vicious thrust will seem much slower than it should. It is hard to move, the eerie energy hardening to the clammy thickness of mire.
A sharp inhalation sounds as Amy moves from behind the descended curtain, tearing the tip of Malin's halted blade from her body as she sways around and through the mist, shifting position with ghostlike grace to emerge at the girl's flank. Stormy blue eyes gleam through the unnatural gloom, glimpsed for only a second before she drops down and rises abruptly upward with a near-vertical jumping kick, the heel of her boot driving up into the slender thief's chin, accompanied by a lashing edge of mist.
"You're incredibly talented - I'll admit, a lot better than I am." Amy's voice continues to ring as she comes around into a crouch, flipping back to earth to settle herself deep in the encompassing thickness of her power. "But your confidence betrays you. You relinquish control because you believe you already have it. That's a weakness, Malin, that some people could take better advantage of." She rises to her feet, a silhouette in the haze, lifting her arms as she prepares herself for the final motions of battle. "You need this just as much as I do."
"G-guh!"
Malin is silenced by the smashing blow, the kick had hurt, but, this was much more painful. Far more immediate, and irritating. She could have gone in more controlled and probably avoided that. But now her blood is up, and Amy's words are just as frustrating as anything else she's heard throughout this fight. "Oh... just /shut up/!" She spits. "I've had some bad luck, but I'm still more than a match for ANYONE. I'm Malin. You have no idea what I'm capable of!"
Her hand throws up, and one of those buzzing yoyos goes with it. This time, the toy flies up with a menacing sound, and she hurls her weapon out. The yoyo ricochets off the ground, and blades spring from the sides. Yes, she knows she's more talented than Amy. But how dare this woman try and tell her that her confidence is a weakness? It'd be one thing coming from one of the people who had actually beat her, but... but Amy could barely touch her!
The weapon moves in strange ways. Jerked around with a sudden twist, rather than the shin it seemed to be aimed at, the toy suddenly buzzes upwards. Malin puts everything into this weapon. It's the thing which first got her into fighting. So, now, suddenly, it seems to be the poetic way to try and bring a conclusion to the fight...
COMBATSYS: Amy slows Onigumo from Malin with Thrown Object.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////// ]
Malin 0/-------/-======|=======\===----\1 Amy
"Fine."
It's not spoken with bitterness or anger, the simple syllable falling into place with calm consideration as Amy accedes to the enraged girl. Dark eyes watch the unusual projectile, regarding the draw and the throw with equal intensity, a hand in turn dipping into the Templar's jacket, skirting along the waist of her canvas trousers as she seeks out a retort. Dextrous fingertips close over a hilt beautifully wrought in the form of a rose. She smiles, dancing backward and lashing her hand forward in a whipping underarm.
If the yo-yo first got Malin into fighting, then this weapon has - in part - encouraged Amy Johnson to continue. She is a woman with few notable friends, and those she has met who inspire her do so without the necessity for contact. Their memories live on in her heart and in the deceptive motions of her style. The rosette flies true, rushing through the mists without the heavy whirr of that vicious bladed object, but with aerodynamic gentility. An elegant weapon, for a more elegant age...
Though it is the chunksome toy that wins out, the smaller blade does divert its course, preventing the intended upward spin as it instead careers in the opposite direction - downward. There is a nasty grating sound as it lashes off the surface of the Great Wall, screaming past Amy's flank on the rebound to cut a fine line in her already injured abdomen - tearing also a tattered scrap from the hem of her jacket. But she is relatively unharmed, drawing her throwing arm backward with a soft 'hmph' as she continues to regard Malin silently. Daring her to continue. To /try/ and finish this fight.
Malin's irritation is only growing. The girl's favorite attack is rendered ineffective, or at least, not as effective as it really should be. Her feet pound the ground as she picks up speed. Seeming, almost, to blur around the edges. Fine, fine! If this woman wanted to make her work for it, she could work for it! She's Malin, she can take some snotty stick in the mud! She'll do it. Just leave it to Malin.
At the last moment, Malin isn't charging forwards any more. Instead, she leaps into the air, and comes down with a dagger in either hand. Slashing and cutting in a flurry of strikes, over and over. Safety and security is abandoned for what is, instead, a reckless, all-out assault, foregoing the usual attempts to draw the fight out and make it fun with different displays... instead, more concerned with bringing Amy down, at last.
COMBATSYS: Malin successfully hits Amy with Medium Strike.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /// ]
Malin 0/-------/-======|=======\======-\1 Amy
Her challenge accepted, Amy does little more than lie in wait, her gaze sedately tracking Malin's heavenward soaring. She sorely underestimated this girl - and she knows now that she cannot simply evade these attacks, as fast and well-chosen as they are. The mists loop and drift around her, bidding that she draw upon them, but she makes her final mistake as she simply gathers the Dragon's Breath and swings her arms upward - crossing in an 'x' before her to meet the opening of that slashing flurry. It's not enough. She knows immediately, but it is too late to shift her position.
"Well played!" She gasps out as she twists away from the breakthrough strike, a crimson spray exploding from her freckled cheek. It is the beginning of a swift lesson in pain, just enough to bring the Templar to her knees, gasping and clothing torn by the end of the assault. Her eyes are shot through and filmy, tears of pain welling up that will not be cried - not while she retains even the faintest semblance of a lioness' pride. Yet through it all, somehow, she manages once more to smile.
"Malin." It comes out thoughtfully, as though she were rolling the name across her tongue, tasting it, committing it to memory. And nothing could be more true. "I'll remember that for the next time we meet. For now, 'child'..." she accentuates the rather derogatory term, her inward admonishment of herself rising audibly in her tone, surfacing in the form of chagrined humour. She can, it seems, at least be humble in defeat. "It's time to take your spoils and run. Don't look back!!"
The last comes out harsher than she intended, as she reaches deep into the remnants of her focus. The outlying mist suddenly begins to close in toward her, streaming past the merchant - who is now a blubbering mess, upon his knees at these womens' display of power - to collapse in upon the roguette. If she does not relocate, those grasping tendrils will gradually harden, forming a cocoon - a coffin - of gray-white energy. This attack lacks speed, and severely so, possessing only the advantage of surprise and alarm as the Templar extends her will one last time.
COMBATSYS: Amy can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Malin 0/-------/-======|
COMBATSYS: Malin interrupts The Dragon's Breath from Amy with Ascending Suzume Bachi.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Malin 1/------=/=======|
Malin ducks down low after her slashes. She knows she /could/ get out of the way from this, whatever it is. She could easily jump well out of the way of the entire arena, and Amy is taking too long to release her energy... but she doesn't want to run. "You. DON'T." She starts, as the air hardens around her. Bringing her knife up, it cuts through the energy, and she steps forwards. It hurts, yes, but she's not going to let a little bit of pain slow her down!
"TELL ME WHAT TO DO!"
And isn't that really what this is all about? Malin has had /so many/ people telling her what to do lately. NESTs telling her to go one way, Sagat telling her to go another, and now Amy telling her to run? Screw that. Amy is NOT the boss of Malin, NOBODY is the boss of Malin!
Lunging upwards, she breaks through the Templar's will, and cuts bodily across the Templar's chest, sending her crashing back to the ground. Malin lands hard, too, and is left breathing with difficulty from the exertion... just as, at last, it seems that the authorities are arriving.
Not wanting to have to go through them, too, Malin forces herself to jump, jump, and jump one last time, until she's vaulting over the top of the Great Wall... and away! Having left poor Amy with a rather, final demonstration of her independent spirit.
COMBATSYS: Malin has ended the fight here.
"Hrk..."
Grounded and exhausted, the Templar can do nothing but grit her teeth as the girl again breaks through her defences, splitting the flesh in a deep, throbbing line above her breast. The taut material of her leotard is split wide, and blood flows freely as she collapses onto her back - not bouncing, or rolling, simply crashing back and falling still. Her eyes close, though she retains the vestige of consciousness, listening to the roguette's scuffling escape. The girl has earned it, she thinks, and so much more. A sinner with spirit and self-belief is a sinner who might come to redeem themselves.
And it would end there, with the arrival of Chinese busy-bodies keen to prevent the gradual decimation of their beloved monument. But as Amy lies there, her hand drifts out across the rough-hewn surface of the Great Wall, her fingertips seeking for something. Her efforts are soon rewarded with a gritty scuff, and the faint sensation of bruising as her hand makes contact with the little thing that started this all. She smiles, and before she passes out within the cold, drifting tendrils of mist, there is one thing left to say:
"Mission... accomplished..."
Log created on 05:10:57 01/08/2011 by Malin, and last modified on 11:01:52 01/12/2011.