Description: Tourists, I tell you. Some of them just want to show up, assassinate a guy, and then head home for tea. Some of them want to disarm a ham sandwich and then head home to watch extreme fishing on DVD. What happens when they meet is 'pure magic,' says Roger Ebert.
It's a beautiful moonlit night.
Angelo has been quite enjoying Southtown, in his own way. It's a strange place, especially for someone who has previously tried to avoid the fighting scene entirely. But, after his latest assignment went ... not quite as well as some would have hoped, he has received nothing but vitriol and demands for money through his usual channels. And then, some of those channels had gone mysteriously quiet.
One soon learns the telltale signs of an inquiring mind in this line of work, and Angelo has felt that someone is watching him for a little while now. It's an uncomfortable feeling, it has the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end, and say what you like about Angelo, he's not shy about himself when someone has actually managed to track him down. It's rare, thankfully, but...
Now, the hoodie-clad man is standing, with his gloved hands in his pockets, looking out at the sea on the end of a pier. The air is chill and cold, and he just /knows/ that sooner, rather than later, someone is going to come out of the woodwork to try and confront him. In a way, he's quite looking forward to it.
It's tough being one of law enforcement's most surprisingly well-trained improvised explosives experts. It means that instead of staying home with a nice cup of coffee and DVDs of 'Most Dangerous Catch,' Miranda Jimenez was on a plane to Southtown at the invitation of the Southtown Police Department to give a little tutorial on how to deal with IEDs and other similar devices to the SPD's special operations teams.
SIX HOURS AGO
Behind a shield of bulletproof glass, an impassive-faced Miranda and a bunch of Japanese policemen watch what's going on in the explosives disarmament training booth. Inside, a scared-looking bomb squad rookie stares down at his 'test bomb.'
It appears to be a ham sandwich on white, with a single wire leading out of it.
Tense moments go by, before he suddenly lunges with the shears to disarm the bomb. Thirty seconds later, he's on the floor covered in mayonnaise, and Miranda is staring at him with utter disdain. "What sort of moron doesn't check under the bread before cutting the only damned wire?"
NOW
After what she felt was a very enlightening class for all involved, the Metro armorymaster is now on her way back to the hotel after having been out drinking with her students (sandwich bomb guy excluded; he had to go home and lie down, and in two weeks would submit his resignation before beginning a new life on a vegan commune). Unfortunately, it was late, she didn't have much money on her, and she was alone in a city where the streets were not familiar. So she latched onto the first person she saw on the street that appeared to be heading in the direction her hotel WAS and followed him. There may have been a LITTLE too much Sapporo at the celebratory dinner which may, in fact, be responsible for this lapse in what is otherwise a keenly logical state of mind. It may also account for her attention being diverted enough so that if Angelo looked back over his shoulder, Miranda was looking the other way at a DJ's flyer stuck to a telephone pole.
Now she's at the docks, there's a guy in a hoodie, and sobriety is starting to kick back in, because she drank the Costa Rican equivalent of bathtub moonshine a lot between ages 16 and 19, and thus is not hangover-prone.
Okay, so maybe there are times when one's finely honed paranoia senses are, just, a little *too* sensitive.
All things considered, this is probably better than the alternative.
Angelo turns around after a few moments of silence, and underneath the brim of his hood, his eyes scan over the young woman rather conspicuously loitering nearby. His lips press together into a tight, thin line. Metro PD? It'd been a long time since he had any problems with Metro PD. How ironic would it be if he had been fingered for a crime he didn't actually commit in that far-flung city, and it was that which finally brought his career to an end. It'd certainly be frustrating. He'd have to confess to the variety of crimes he /has/ committed, just to set the record straight.
Turning on the spot, a few, quick strides bring his shadow falling over Miranda, his hands still tucked firmly in his pockets, he clears his throat meaningfully, hoping to attract her attention before he speaks. He sounds calm, though there's a hint of an italian accent, and, well, he's head and shoulders above most of the other people here. He's clearly not a local.
"Can I help you, Miss?" He asks, "I can't help but notice that you are, a long way from home. You look confused, and Southtown can be ... a dangerous place, for the unprepared."
Not, that Miranda looks like the kind of person who can't handle herself. Quite the opposite, in fact. Angelo isn't one to be careless, though. He's half expecting her to try and punch him, or for a dozen more 'Metro City' officers to suddenly turn up on the scene. It would be far more pleasant if they didn't, though. Cammy had given him quite a beating the other day, even if he hadn't shown it. It would be nice not to have to murder a bunch more police officers and flee the city as soon as he got here. It's so, troublesome.
The Latina policewoman is actually digging a hand through one of her pockets when the... rather tall Italian approaches her to ask if he can help. The dark-haired woman raises an eyebrow, turning and looking up, then squinting a little. Something's gnawing at her, but frankly, hoodie + dark pier = Unabomber in her eyes anyway, because she's ex-SWAT and that sort of thing sticks with you. But she gives the man the benefit of the doubt even as she pats her pockets down for that phone, the rustling of her jacket making a shoulder holster and her MCPD badge on a neck chain visible for just a moment. "You know how it is. Spend five minutes having a beer with some Japanese men in suits and suddenly you're at the pier instead of your hotel, waiting to be thrown in the harbor in Hello Kitty-stamped cement shoes."
She says this line in a sort of smoky-voiced, near-monotone deadpan that gives it a... potentially unnerving air. "I am, however, always prepared," she finishes, tilting her head down for a moment as she produces her smartphone from a pocket and holds it up in front of her so that it makes a center point between her face and Angelo's. Entirely by accident, the camera lens of the phone is facing Angelo full-on. "Thank you for offering, however. Let me just GPS my hote--"
Scrolling through her apps, on the way to Google Maps, she passes her Google News feed, including footage from a botched assassination attempt on a Japanese government official by some sort of Lolita-age leotard-wearing prostitute and a mysterious guy in a hoodie. A TALL mysterious guy in a hoodie.
Hazel eyes dart from the phone to the man and then back for a second before Miranda smiles pleasantly and tucks the thing back in her pocket. "Barely even a mile from here. Should be a nice brisk walk, no problems there. Oh, also..."
YESTERDAY, METRO POLICE STATION
"Now remember," the Division 8 secretary says. "You've all been given some leeway from Interpol, but try not to do anything stupid while you're over there. You don't really have jurisdiction in Southtown."
Miranda, drawing a cartoon picture of her own face, a <3, and a perfect rendering of a Mosin Nagant carbine sniper rifle on an envelope, gives a distracted "Mmhmm. Sure."
NOW
Miranda draws her well-cared-for Colt M1911 from that shoulder holster and attempts to put a bullet in this guy's kneecap without so much as a second thought, because she doesn't want him to run away, but she also might be wrong. "Oh, right. You're under arrest."
COMBATSYS: Miranda has started a fight here.
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Miranda 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Angelo has joined the fight here.
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Miranda 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Angelo
COMBATSYS: Angelo dodges Miranda's Thrown Object.
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Miranda 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Angelo
At first, Angelo nods his head. He can sympathize, believe it or not. Although he didn't like many people, and he tries to spend as little time as possible with them, he does understand the difficulties of trying to find ones way around a new place. He's done it often enough himself. But, that's just part of the life when you happen to be an assassin.
There's a hint of distaste from what little of his face can be seen, though. GPS? Ugh. How... awful. What sort of person allows a machine to tell them what to do, where to put their feet? It's disgusting, is what it is. He hates it.
And then, suddenly, she's pulled a gun on him? It's almost point-blank, and the trigger is pulled with a loud roar, and the smell of gunpowder. And... Angelo moves his leg easily to the side. The bullet strikes the pavement beyond, and ricochets off into the darkness, leaving, a rather confused assassin just, staring at the woman. His gloved hands slide out of his pockets, with a creak of leather. His fingers grip the top of his hood, and tugs at it, pulling it further down over his face, shrouding more of himself in darkness.
"... You just tried to shoot me." He says, his tone one of utter disbelief. "You /actually/ tried to shoot me." This time, there's a hint of humor alongside the disbelief. "Please, don't try and do that again, or I'll have to stop you."
Yes, he'd been shot at in the past, and, when he was learning to ply his trade, firearms were even a threat. But it had been decades since he needed to worry about them. Surely this woman wasn't /serious/?
COMBATSYS: Angelo takes no action.
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Miranda 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Angelo
Yes. It's possible that the woman who made an improvised explosive device out of a ham sandwich MIGHT NOT be serious about using firearms in hand-to-hand combat. The handgun is back in holster with all due speed, and Miranda's watching this guy closely, adding it all up. One, he just dodged a bullet -- a BULLET -- at point-blank range, which means he's a trained combatant. Two, he's got his hands in his pockets which to the survival-oriented Metro cop says 'potential for hidden weapons'.
Three, he said please. Normal people don't say please.
She actually just starts... walking toward Angelo at a decent pace, nonchalant-like, gazing curiously at the hoodie for a moment. Clearly trying to protect his identity. It's like the man is a checklist of 'bring in for questioning' and so, Miranda rationalizes, everything she is about to do is perfectly okay, or at the very least, will survive about as much scrutiny as she is used to police departments giving to paperwork in this sort of situation.
This may be why she suddenly lunges for Angelo, intending to grab him by the collar, ram her knee into his stomach, and then deposit him on the ground with some force. "Well. You asked so nicely," she deadpans. Hoo boy.
COMBATSYS: Angelo fails to counter Combo Attack from Miranda with Jerusalem Cherry.
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Miranda 0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0 Angelo
Angelo moves swiftly when Miranda comes in for him. The man's fingers glow bright white, and two of them come lashing forwards...
And Miranda grabs his collar, slams her knee into his gut, and he hits the floor, his head spinning.
That, was not how that was supposed to go.
To his credit, Angelo gets up again quite quickly. Rolling to his feet, he coughs, and shakes his head. Somehow, despite it all, his features had remained wreathed in shadow, but what little of his face is visible is smiling. His voice is, at least, not nearly as smugly polite as it had been before.
"You aren't as weak as you seem..." He says, working his shoulders back, "I can see that you aren't going to be swayed with words. As it should be! Fantastic... come at me again, woman! I want to see what else you are capable of!"
SEVEN MONTHS AGO, METRO CITY RENAISSANCE FAIRE
A man dressed like a jester smiles at a passing, somewhat pretty-looking woman, before prancing up to her and attempting to put a garland of flowers on her head. "M'lady, thou'rt a vision of beauty true. Wouldst thou be mine companion at the HRGK"
Miranda, now having the actor by the collar of his doublet, yanks him closer and narrows her eyes. "Perhaps it is because I am from another country," she says, in her throaty Latin accent, "but was that _English_ you were speaking just now?"
NOW
They didn't train her for this shit! Now he's speaking like a Final Fantasy boss, not that Miranda knows what Final Fantasy is, and his hands were glowing. She is new to this 'street fighting' thing. Before this all she did was gun down drug lords and defuse dirty bombs! It is comparatively very easy and that might account for why she is STRESSED RIGHT NOW.
Which she shows by staring blankly at Angelo and then saying, in a tone of vague irritation, "Stop being so polite. It makes this very awkward."
Then she charges hm, skidding to a low stop almost like a baseball slide when she gets close before... jumping backwards in a short hop? What the hell sort of attack is that?
Of course the *clink!* of ceramic and metal on pavement might prompt Angelo to look down and see a spread of grenades on the ground at his feet. Which then explode upwards in a pillar of non-chi, everyday, straight-from-Metro-to-you fire.
COMBATSYS: Miranda successfully hits Angelo with AN-M14 Custom Incendiary Grenade.
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Miranda 0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0 Angelo
Angelo has never been blown up before.
At least, not by a regular grenade. The assassin steps forwards as the grenade hits the ground, but he underestimates just /how/ explosive the attack actually is. The explosion lifts him off his feet, and singes his back. He has to admit, this is impressive. A simple beating, and a perfectly ordinary grenade, and he's already starting to feel the burn. It's ... interesting.
When his feet find the earth again, though, he doesn't fall over. Instead, he chuckles, admittedly throatily. "No more politeness. Very well."
No more words at all, in fact. Rather tired of being shot at and blown up (being punched? That's not so annoying), Angelo aims to close the distance between himself and the Metro officer as swiftly as he can.
And if she's not very quick on her feet, he aims to strike her directly in the shoulder. Two fingers dig in deep, aiming to send a shock of pain running down her left arm, damaging the nerves, before his second hand jabs out, a spear-hand aiming to drive deep into her throat, send her stumbling backwards, and inflict a fraction of the pain that she had inflicted on him back on her.
COMBATSYS: Miranda parries Angelo's Combo Attack!
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Miranda 0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0 Angelo
In the word of firearms and explosives, there are two types of people: the quick, and the dead. Or if not dead, then the heavily injured, missing things like 'fingers' and 'toes' and 'hearing in your left ear'. Thus when Angelo decides to make things personal, Miranda reacts quickly. His claw-hand comes down, latching on to... something. Rather than her neck, though, he manages to briefly grab her leather jacket, which the cop had shrugged off in a moment of dashing *toward* her opponent. NOW she just blows right past him, yanking the jacket after her and out of his grip, before... flinging it into the air?
A Colt M1911 -- that same military-issue handgun she fired off before -- drops out of the jacket as it flies through the air and into her right hand, even as she draws the other one she had holstered from before with her left, holding both guns trained on Angelo *from behind him*.
The smile he can't see is decidedly unpleasant. "Oh, good. Thank you."
Then she just opens fire like a maniac, cross-firing both hands John Woo-style before holstering one and snatching her jacket on its second way back down with the hand holding the other.
COMBATSYS: Angelo fails to reflect Colt M1911 Dual Wield EX from Miranda with Autumn Crocus.
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Miranda 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Angelo
Angelo is confused. It, has been a long time since he's been so surprised by a woman in a fight. Even Cammy had grown rather, predictable. He would smack her, she would kick him, things would carry on in the same way, and, yes, eventually... he would have lost.
This woman, though! She's using /guns/ and /explosives/. This is a style he has never seen before. Yes, he isn't a big fan of modern technology in most circumstances, but... dare he say it, this is ... fresh!
Spinning around, Angelo lashes out with his hand, and a light brown slash of energy shimmers into being with his movement. It flickers and stays there for a few moments...
But it is too late, Angelo is already stumbling back, having been shot, twice, in the gut. Blood soaks through into his hoodie, and he actually starts to laugh. A high-pitched, somewhat... crazed noise.
"F-Fantastic!" He declares, his fingers pressing against the wounds. Not, lethal. Just, very, very painful. "You are, fantastic! Please, don't stop. I've got more to give... what is your name, woman? You are an officer, but, I don't remember your face... if we'd met before, I would remember you! How could I forget you?"
He's, fairly obviously starting to lose it. He'd never have imagined that he could be bested with such a strange style, but this woman... she was redefining his whole view of an effective fighter. He'd always seen guns as a messy, lazy approach to fighting. But quite clearly, he'd been terribly mistaken! This is, truly, eye-opening.
And now the flashbacks start.
She's back in Hacienda Granada, in Girardo's office. A girl tied to the chair, Miranda in a sexy dress, and a drug lord. Her with a letter opener in her hand covered in blood and the drug lord, Girardo, leaning back in his chair and laughing, while blood poured down his chest from the ragged slash in his neck, claiming that Miranda had finally become just like her. 'Fantastic!'
This is not a place you want to send a walking arsenal who's still got a little alcohol rumbling around in her system. Because now she just wants to shut this guy UP.
This may account for her sudden use of a headbutt. The guns are gone, the jacket's back on, and everything looks hunky-dory; Miranda just walks up to the cackling lunatic and says, in that same deadpan, "Do you know the list of things you are entitled to when you are arrested? In the States they are called a 'Miranda warning'," before whipping her head forward and attempting to slam it right into Angelo's nose.
COMBATSYS: Angelo blocks Miranda's Strong Punch.
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Miranda 0/-------/---====|=======\-------\0 Angelo
As her head whips back from the point of contact, she adds, almost as an afterthought, "I have been told in my case it's ironic. I fail to see the joke."
Angelo brings his hand up firmly, as Miranda's head comes in for his nose, and he firmly pushes it back. There's some light bruising to his hand, but, all things considered, this is far superior to the alternative. The first time this fight that something has gone pretty much as he expected it to go. He exhales, slowly, and makes a visible effort to calm himself down.
"I am quite aware of my rights in the United States. Though, I must admit, I'm not entirely certain what rights I am entitled to here in Japan. Isn't that funny?"
He steps backwards, and after a moment, he lifts his hands up to his hood. Sliding it back, he reveals a rather handsome face. Strong, Italian features. Short black hair, a nose that has never been broken, features of a man who is used to the finer things in life. Completely at odds with the thuggish outfit that he was wearing.
"My name is Angelo." He says, cheerfully. And at this point, Miranda likely /does/ know who he is. His name is, after all, something of a legend in the underworld, and has been for a long, long time. It also matches with the style he had been using (or, had been trying to use, with little success).
"It is a pleasure to meet you. Miranda, yes? I'm afraid I can't let you arrest me, today. Instead, I am going to try and kill you." He smiles, revealing rows of perfect, sparkling white teeth. "Please, don't disappoint me and die, will you?"
COMBATSYS: Angelo gains composure.
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Miranda 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Angelo
She doesn't crack a smile or miss a beat. Instead, Miranda asks: "We're in Japan?"
Ohhhh, she's one of _those_.
The hood coming down does interest her, especially since before she came to Metro's SWAT force, Miranda used to work with the FBI and the DEA in the War On Drugs, or whatever the US government has decided to brand it. Her job was to 'shut them down' which in the case of most Central American drug traffickers, from Miranda's point of view, was 'put a bullet in their head.' Sometimes, however, the drug lords did it to themselves, and SOMETIMES they would just go missing with only the barest hint of what assassin might be responsible. Back then, she didn't pay much attention to who those people might be because in the end, they were doing her job for her.
Suddenly, the Metro cop wonders if she should have paid more attention.
But then the guy is laughing and bleeding out at the same time which just sets her on *edge*. This is not how perps work. It's really making her want to do something absolutely drastic. Which might be why she doesn't attack, just quite yet. "Did you just tell an officer of the law that you intend to kill her?"
She says this, coincidentally, while loading slugs into a shotgun that she wasn't carrying five seconds ago. Where did it COME FROM.
"It is sometimes hard for me," the Latina deadpans, "being _bilingual_."
COMBATSYS: Miranda focuses on her next action.
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Miranda 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Angelo
Angelo smiles, and it is a wide, unhinged grin. From ear to ear, he looks, far too happy given the position he is in. But, this /is/ what he came to Southtown for, isn't it? Ironic that he should find it from someone who, clearly, is just as much a stranger in Southtown as he is, but he's so rarely found himself completely outclassed like this. It is exciting. Wonderful. Wonderful!
"Mmm, another gun." He says, cheerily. "Normally, I'd be insulted. But do what it is you think you have to do ... to survive."
And without another word, he's blurring forwards. So fast he is like greased lightning, his hand held firm in a spear again. This time, the entire limb is glowing with that strange, sickly brown energy.
The non-glowing hand aims to shove Miranda's weapon to the side, grabbing and shoving the barrel away, as his other strikes straight past her head.
It'll likely take a heartbeat for what just happened to be entirely clear. Because, if all goes according to plan, the primary artery in the side of Miranda's neck will have been opened up with razor-sharp chi. Something that would be quite fatal to most ordinary people ... but then, Miranda is hardly an ordinary person, is she?
COMBATSYS: Miranda fails to interrupt Angel's Trumpet from Angelo with Reaping Takedown.
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Miranda 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Angelo
It probably doesn't help that by the time Angelo gets to her, Miranda has already put away the shotgun and is flexing her fingers. He's got disdain for guns? Well, she has disdain for not-guns but occasionally such techniques can be useful.
TWO YEARS AGO
"Now, Agent Jimenez," the FBI academy close-combat instructor says, looking across the clearing in the woods where the field exercise was taking place. "Sometimes you're not going to have a weapon handy. This is stuff you're going to need to know. I'm going to attack you, and you respond appropriately to the lesson, alright?"
Then the man charged her, intending to grapple, shortly before Miranda spun, snagged an assault rifle out of a nearby trainee's hands, and swung it barrel-first at the charging instructor, smacking him with the stock like a baseball bat and knocking him out cold in one go.
Handing the rifle back to its owner, she nevertheless withdrew a notebook from her pocket and wrote it in, studiously: "FOR EMERGENCIES ONLY"
NOW
The Latina cop frowns. "Damn."
It's that brown chi blade, that she doesn't quite account for, nor entirely know what to do with, but she's not taking any chances. Bracing herself, she intends to reach out, halt Angelo's advance with one hand, before sweeping his leg out and then slamming him to the ground, CQC-style. Unfortunately the swift-striking assassin is inside her guard before that is an option; the best she can manage is to show the chi blade aside a bit, turning what might have been a very nasty blow into a glancing strike that nevertheless leaves a trickle of blood running down her throat.
She swallows, but her facade doesn't crack even as she watches Angelo. Instead, she gives him a cryptic warning: "Be advised, I've watched most of George Romero's films." What?
Angelo knows a lot about certain parts of culture. He can recite many operas, tell you all about the works of Bach and Strauss, and don't even get him started on philosophy, his private passion. But, if there's one element of culture which has passed him by, it is... popular culture. Which is why Miranda's statement goes entirely over his head. What on earth is a George Romero? Clearly, he would have to study this at a later date.
Assuming that he gets to study anything else at all, of course. He's not taking anything for granted at this point.
Instead, for once, Miranda gets her wish. The swift assassin has shut his trap for once, and has spun around on his heel. His hand clenched into a fist, he aims one hefty blow directly into Miranda's midsection, and then, as quickly as he has delivered it, he's rolling around to the side, coming in from behind the woman.
It's probably not a good idea to let Angelo get behind you. But now that Angelo has managed to close the distance between himself and the cop, he fully intends to try and keep that close distance. He rather suspected that Miranda wouldn't want to use anything as explosive as those nasty grenades again, if he could keep close to her.
COMBATSYS: Miranda parries Angelo's Strong Punch!
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Miranda 0/-------/---====|======-\-------\0 Angelo
You can get close to Miranda Jimenez. It's just... not always a great idea.
Some sixth sense tells her that first blow is a distraction, or at the least an attempt to create an opening, and so she reacts to it very, very aggressively, slamming both hands down and literally knocking the punch down and past her, even as Angelo continues to roll behind her and prepare for his next attack. And the motion of doing that two-handed deflection means her whole body is suddenly at a very low angle, and there's no way she could reach for any of her weapons, AND he's behind her. This is a super bad place to be, right?!
This is when she suddenly lashes out with a high kick that would make a Rockette jealous, attempting to catch Angelo right under the chin and knock him into the air...
COMBATSYS: Angelo dodges Miranda's M1 Thompson Arc Kick to Full Auto EX.
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Miranda 0/-------/----===|======-\-------\0 Angelo
...it sadly doesn't connect, however, and the high kick turns into a sort of backwards roll, putting Miranda on her feet at least a few feet away.
Angelo keeps moving, and this is what, ultimately, saves him from a rather unpleasant time. Managing to slide out of the way of the attack, he takes a deep breath, and narrows his eyes. This woman moves with remarkable speed, better even than the Killer Bee of Shadaloo! How could he possibly have been unaware that such a woman existed in the Metro City Police Department?
Coming forwards again, Angelo's form doesn't blur with speed this time. Instead, he ducks down to one side, weaves over, and then comes in hard. His leg swings upwards, and he aims to crash his shin painfully into the side of Miranda's injured neck, dearly hoping to knock her to the ground with the force of the blow.
He's no longer trying to go straight for the killing or stunning blows... it's pretty clear that her defenses are too tight. He needs to create an opening, wear her down, and know when the right time is to strike. Or else he's just going to keep suffering at the hands of this strange style she seems to have developed. Frankly, he's just glad he managed to escape without another lesson in pain!
COMBATSYS: Miranda fails to interrupt Light Kick from Angelo with Large Random Weapon.
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Miranda 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Angelo
Ohhh, such a good plan it was too. If there's anything Miranda's background has done for her, it's to make her be able to use her surroundings to good effect. She also doesn't have time to do things like call for backup which is making this fight take a bizarrely long time, but at least it's getting her adrenaline going, getting bad Japanese beer out of her system, and kicking in her thought processes a little bit more.
For example, she looks over Angelo's head a moment and spies a large crate dangling from a shipping crane, near where they're fighting. By a cable! A sturdy cable, but... Miranda is a really good shot.
A really, really good shot.
As the kick comes in for her, she makes up her mind; rather than evade she'll try to roll with the blow and let her plan go into motion. Sadly, she underestimates the amount of precise planning you need for this sort of thing, which means that yes, Angelo kicks her in the throat. Yes, she draws her pistol and fires off a shot into the SKY for all her opponent can tell.
And yes, four and a half seconds later, a shipping crate drops to the ground 5 feet behind where she and Angelo are fighting, the wood shattering harmlessly on the pier where the assassin no longer is.
Angelo jumps backwards, a half second before the crate smashes where he had been. For a heartbeat, the assassin just, stares at Miranda, as though to say 'did you really just try to do that?'. It is astounding. Just when he thinks that he has got this woman pegged, just when he thinks that he can avoid her by making sure his face is not in the way of any pistols or shotguns or what-have-you, she pulls out something that opens up an entirely new avenue of danger.
"Let me show you how I handle ranged combat." Angelo says, deciding that a certain level of demonstration is necessary, even though he's still trying to, you know. Murder her.
Leaping backwards, to put some distance between them, both Angelo's gloved hands are extended towards Miranda. At first, it isn't quite clear what is going to happen.
And then, suddenly, from the very air around the woman, bright, sharp red blades of energy slash out, four of them, aiming to slash deep into Miranda's arms and legs, hamper her movement. The fact that this comes practically out of nowhere tends to throw people off...
But who the hell could say what Miranda would do in response? Angelo wouldn't be surprised if she was keeping an RPG tucked somewhere about her person, and dear god he does not want to wind up on the receiving end of something like that. Thank God that not all police officers are like this woman, or he'd have never made it through his first year!
COMBATSYS: Miranda endures Angelo's Black Locust.
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Miranda 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\1 Angelo
'This is how I handle ranged combat.'
Oh, now it's _personal_.
She doesn't even move. This is probably the first and most important sign that something is massively, massively wrong with the situation. She's not very good at dealing with chi energy, mostly because the thoroughly grounded Latina cop doesn't trust it, even though she herself knows a few attacks that, when properly... provoked... indulge in a little chi like an experimenting bi-curious college co-ed. But the man has issued a challenge at this point. Her pride is on the line. And though the blades may sear and cut her flesh, and that strange energy may cause her great pain, Miranda Jimenez grits her teeth and gets through it.
Then she smiles. Sweetly. "Well, that is one way to do it," she admits, in an almost polite tone.
Oh right, and she's also now holding a classic US Army-issue man-portable rocket launcher in dark green camo paint. Four firing barrels, shoulder-mounted, and she just heaves the thing up onto her shoulder with one hand like she was a baseball player shouldering a bat carelessly.
Almost as an afterthought, the armory mistress adds, "A stupid way, mind you."
Then there's rockets everywhere and conversation becomes an academic concern. Where was she HIDING that. How is she doing this?!
COMBATSYS: Angelo fails to reflect M202A FLASH from Miranda with Lily of the Nile.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////// ]
Miranda 0/-------/------=|=======\====---\1 Angelo
Angelo just... can't believe it. There's a moment, just a moment, where the man laughs. A hearty, genuine laugh. "Stupid? You are calling MY techniques... stupid!"
Spinning, bright, searing white energy flares up with him. There are rockets, yes, but, this technique has been the last thing many warriors had seen. He had brought great masters of the art to their knees simply by turning their attacks back on them. It is... the pinnacle of his control, it will NOT be broken by a few pathetic /explosives/.
Except, that is exactly what happens.
The explosions flare around the man, and the bright white barrier fails completely to snare the projectiles. Where he was hoping to use his chi like a river, infuse the rockets with his power, and gently turn them back on a tide made of the beauty of the world... what actually happens is that they touch something, and they explode. You know why they do that?
Because they are fucking rockets.
The explosions shatter his energy, break it into pieces, and soon, explosions engulf the assassin. When the smoke finally clears, Angelo has been reduced to his knees, breathing hard, and choking for breath. If he was a religious man, he might even be praying right now. But he's not, he knows when he has been bested, and he is not so proud as to believe that he can defeat this woman simply by trying /harder/. He'd been trying as hard as he could, and although he'd managed to hurt her, it was nowhere near as much as it needed to be.
So, he holds up his hands, "Alright, that's enough..." He says. Hoping, really, that whilst he could still maintain consciousness, Miranda might just drop her guard long enough for him to escape if he looked like he was going to surrender.
What sort of person /wouldn't/ surrender after being blown up like that?!
The smoke clears. And there is a lot of it, let me tell you, because rockets are NOT a precision-firing weapon. Most of the shots hit her target, like she intended, because the woman is some sort of savant. But not all of them. The pier BEHIND Angelo, for example, is now more like a war zone than a harbor. A few large shipping containers now have massive dents in the side as the exploding rockets let off concussive force sufficient to dent the heavy metal. Wooden crates are now smoldering ruins, their contents spilling out onto the pier... fruit, industrial components, and a half a Sanrio's worth of Hello Kitty plushes. Little survived her rocket-propelled wrath.
Angelo did, however, so what the hell does that say about ANGELO.
The assassin emerges from the smoke and debris holding up his hands in surrender, clearly having had enough. Any normal police officer would make sure he was covered with a weapon, then demand he put himself on the ground and his hands behind his head, aka 'assuming the position,' because their plan is to take the criminal in to the justice system and see that they pay for their crimes.
Miranda, on the other hand, points one of her pistols at the dust cloud and fires as soon as the not-vaporized Angelo is discernible. For added insult, her emotions naturally imbue the shot with a burning aura of scarlet flame that causes the shot to explode into chi fire when it hits something. Suck on THAT Mr. Beauty of the World.
COMBATSYS: Angelo fails to reflect Colt M1911 Scarlet Round from Miranda with Foxglove.
-* CRITICAL FAIL! *-
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > // ]
Miranda 0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1 Angelo
COMBATSYS: Angelo can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Miranda 0/-------/-----==|
"... I should have known you would understand ..."
God knows what Angelo means by that, but the assassin is on his feet again as swiftly as he can be, his entire right hand glowing with burning white energy. The bullet roars, and Angelo can /feel/ the energy in it. He has no idea how Miranda has done it, but, then, he has no idea how Miranda has done anything in this fight.
His eyes are wide, he knows that if he can just /GRAB/ this bullet, he can turn it back, and make his escape. He can DO this. He has snatched bullets out of the air a hundred times!
And then, his fingers slip around the bullet... failing to find purchase. Lead sliding through his fingertips like water, and there's just the slightest intake of breath. Three words slipping out through gritted teeth a moment before the detonation, which rather... ruin the 'polite' image that Angelo had been cultivating at the start of the fight.
"You... little /bitch/."
And then the bullet slams home in his torso. The explosion is massive, lifting Angelo bodily off his feet, his torso smouldering, his poor hooded sweater reduced to so much ash. It is at this point that Miranda might just learn an important lesson about fighting people like Angelo; it might be a bad idea to finish up with explosions...
Because the force of it is so great that, without any power left to defend himself, it throws him bodily across the harbor, and into the ocean with a mighty *SPLASH*. Water showers up from where he impacts, like a small explosion all of his own...
Of course, there's just no way that anyone could survive an explosion like that, especially when they've hit the water afterwards. There's no way that Angelo has the strength left in his limbs to swim himself to safety, hell, there's no way he could even drag his head up above the water, is there?
And yet... they'll never find the body.
Hm. That's not how that's supposed to go. "Damn," the Metro cop mutters as she holsters her gun. She is actually a little worse for wear, though at least the bleeding of that wound on her neck has stopped. Her fingers come up to brush it, actually; despite being made with chi, that's probably going to scar, and without thinking, she brings her hand across her neck to the OTHER side, where there is a much older, much nastier scar that carries a much more vivid memory. Suddenly she's back in Costa Rica again, and Girardo has just barely avoided slitting her throat, but she _got the bastard in the end_.
"Pull it together, Miranda," she mutters to herself, before turning to go... and finding the Southtown police on the scene, all looking at her -- the lone figure on the pier -- with expressions ranging from fury to incredulity.
Blinking, she turns and looks behind her at the carnage, because she brought a rocket launcher to a fist fight. "...oh, right."
TWO DAYS FROM NOW
In the secret headquarters of Japan's most infamous and influential Yakuza clan -- Sanrio -- news of the destruction of so many Hello Kitty plushes reaches the head of the company in the form of a small piece of notepaper.
The man reads it, and then silently brings one finger across his neck in a well-recognized international gesture.
NOW
The Metro cop shrugs. "What's the worst that could happen?"
COMBATSYS: Miranda has ended the fight here.
Log created on 11:49:21 01/20/2011 by Miranda, and last modified on 16:35:28 01/20/2011.