Description: Whip and Leona are called out for a bit of a pop quiz. This quiz involved FISTS.
LEONA'S QUARTERS
"Meet me in the air field in five," the Ikari Commander stated simply, after poking his head in briefly. He departs as swiftly as he arrives.
WHIP'S QUARTERS
"Air field in five. Be there." The same thing; Heidern comes and goes like the wind. How mysterious!!
PRESENTLY
Standing by himself in the middle of a quiet, dusty air strip on the Ikari base, the Ikari Warrior commander stands with a stoic, lack of expression on his face. His one, only remaining eye looks to the horizon, surveying the heavily forested mountains. Absently the man's long, gloved fingers twitch behind his back, where one hand holds to the wrist of the other.
When both of his soldiers eventually arrive he'll turn to greet the duo with no real expression, save for a slight respectful tilt of his head.
"I'm glad you both are here," he states. "I think this is long overdue."
Then he'll ease into his usual ready stance.
"I want you both to take me out as quickly and efficiently as possible. You will be graded on this.
"Come at me when you're ready."
AN EXPOSITION
Afghanistan. Rwanda. Iran. South Korea. Kyrgyzstan. Tunisia. Egypt.
Whip's last year has been little more than a blur. Posted abroad, set off with a small Ikari unit, she's been receiving order after order from central command to follow the world's burdens, policing riot after riot, lingering around pockets of unrest. It's been exhilarating. It's also been exhausting.
And it's been just lonely enough to make her appreciate the first steps "home" to the thick, crushing jungle heat and choking humidity with little more than a sigh. Even after spending the last four months acclimated to deserts alone, Whip wouldn't trade this for the world.
She couldn't deny the little flip in her heart to receive orders that her last assignment has ended, awaiting a good, deserved reprieve from active duty; it meant the possibility of free time, a privilege far and few between for a soldier of fortune. Not that Whip doesn't enjoy what she does -- who she is --
-- she's just realized, in the last couple of years, that she's found herself a real "life" to go home to. A city. Friends. Even now a blood family.
Tanned from Cairo, tracking desert sand (no dune references, sorry) onto her bed as she lets down her gunnysack, the young woman exhales to the sanctuary of her familiar quarters. She gets about thirty seconds to pull her arms over her head, stretch out her aching vertebrae, a yawn breaking free from her mouth--
--as Heidern ghosts into the room. Whip stands at attention so fast she almost salutes herself upside the head. Glancing wide-eyed up at her commander, her official welcome home is--
...another order.
"Sir!"
He leaves.
And Whip sags. Why does she have the feeling her long day just got even longer?
NOW
Heeled boots clicking against the cement, Whip's entire body suffuses with soldierly obedience, remaining at attention as the Commander awaits them, her feet sliding together as she cuts him another respectful salute. She waits for him to relax out of his formality before following suit, Whip daring to slip a glance toward her fellow soldier she finds her, and another face she's sorely missed -- Leona Heidern. Her expression softens briefly, transparently.
Then Heidern speaks again.
Whip glances back, alert, her expression confused, a little hesitant (--he didn't find the book, did he--) until he makes his intentions known.
It is going to be a long day.
This is her home.
It's where she came as a child, where she came to know and understand everything about the man that she calls her father and the work he does. Blood and battle have been part of her life ever since the day she was found in the ruins of that small village, and there's only one time that such a lifestyle is ever able to come to an abrupt pause:
When she's stuck at her desk doing paperwork.
The appearance of Heidern in her doorway isn't unwelcome, but nor did she expect it. His simple order is understood with a crisp nod, and she turns to her closet door to swing it open and look for something a little more appropriate to wear. Of course, for Leona Heidern, 'appropriate' usually equates to 'something that could be used to deflect a knife, stop a bullet, or absorb the brunt of an explosion.'
Girl has to have priorities.
When she arrives on the airfield, she's dressed for a fight. Whip's glance is returned with that same ever-present air of stoicism as ever, as reliable as the cycles of the sun and the moon. Then, her attention turns back to Heidern, shifting her weight to the balls of her feet and rocking back and forth while she prepares to make use of her surprising agility.
"I am glad to see you both," Heidern notes in his typical, lack-of-any-emotion tone. He would smile, but it's quite possible that he is incapable of expression such an emotion. Still, both women are well acquainted with the Ikari Commander enough to know that he is speaking sincerely and from the heart.
But a heart-to-heart isn't why he drug his two best female Ikari into the airstrip. No, his motives are simple: he wants to see if time has worn their skills down. He know in his heart they haven't; however, it takes actual display of prowess to convince him. He is a man of action, not words.
Giving the two a firm nod, the Ikari continues to assume stance.
"Do not hold back. I know when you hold back, and if you /do/, you will have latrine duty for the next week. Do you both understand?" he asks, seeking assurance they'll pull no punches and go all-out against the CO.
"If that is squared away, let us begin."
And so he stands, holding his ground with that one, blue eye keenly aware and patiently observant of his surroundings. Which woman will be brave enough to assault first??
COMBATSYS: Heidern has started a fight here on the top side.
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|-------
COMBATSYS: Whip has joined the fight here.
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|-------
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ <
Whip 0/-------/-------|
COMBATSYS: Leona has joined the fight here.
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|-------
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Leona 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Whip
COMBATSYS: Heidern takes no action.
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|-------
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////////////]
Leona 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Whip
And here is Whip, sunbaked, a little fatigued around the edges, and surrounded entirely by the phenotypical Heidern Family Frown.
Doesn't she love it.
She has to school herself from smiling, tiredly and affectionately, remembering her place in front of a man as austere and formal as Commander Heidern. Though even Whip's determined decorum can't quite keep the fondness out of her brown eyes. These two people, Commander and comrade, father and adopted daughter, are two of the first real friends she's ever had. They were the people who helped her find and realize her own humanity. Where most people would pause and balk at the sheer, unemotional barrage of Heidern and Leona, Whip only reclaims that very first sense of 'home' she'd ever felt in her short, unremembered life.
Whip will take their austerity. She'll smile for the three of them.
Much as she wants to, desperately, fiercely, as the Commander reveals why he has brought Leona and herself to this spot. There's only one way both of them have to get out of latrine duty. And it's through blood, sweat, and tears, to put up the fight of their lives.
And they will be fighting for their lives. To man the latrines--
At the Ikari Base, tonight is burrito night.
And Ralf Jones likes his burritos.
Turning her head briskly, Whip seeks Leona's eye. Her face freezes of all its good-natured mirth, her eyes dark and intent as she imparts her friend a grim nod.
Only one road out of burrito night.
Belying her long year, her fifteen hours of travel, her thirty-six hours since rest, Whip moves blindingly, every limb seized with determination. With a rasp of leather, she's pulled her familiar blue whip off her belt, and inside a heartbeat, has dared to make the first move. Without warning, a SNAP of the weapon kills the silence, as she tries to snap it toward the Commander, attempting to catch Heidern around his closest shoulder. Should it connect, Whip's already snapping backward, pulling the length against her own shoulder and twisting, trying to ruthlessly yank the man into the air--
--and trying to hurl him in towards Leona's reach, where the daughter may intercept--
A duty befitting the most upstart of rookies. A duty that is more like the worst punishment possible. A duty that is full of dooty.
Leona Heidern scrubs toilets for no man, not even her father.
From the corner of the young woman's eye, she looks to Whip with complete understanding hard-coded into her steely blue gaze. The whip drops from Whip's belt, unfurled and cracked outward with such precision and timing that the air ripples catch her across her bangs. Leona doesn't stand and wait.
Leona /moves/.
Adaptability is what makes her a lethal opponent, especially when paired with another. Without so much as a glance in the appropriate direction, her weight drops low to the ground while the toned muscle in her legs draws in strength and power. Breaking into a sprint across the concrete, the blue-haired Ikari is on the move to cut the distance between herself and her father, regardless and perhaps heedless Whip's success.
Should she have to travel the full distance, her right arm will come around with all of the strength, the accuracy, and the cutting power of a sword, her distinctive use of chi taking form. In either of the two cases, her weight is thrown upward into the air, her legs whipping straight up in a kick that carries that same energy!
COMBATSYS: Heidern dodges Whip's Zed.
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|-------
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Leona 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Whip
COMBATSYS: Heidern dodges Leona's Grand Sabre.
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|-------
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Leona 0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0 Whip
And without disappointment, the two Ikari women act.
It comes with swiftness most people wouldn't even be capable of noting. However, to a seasoned veteran like Heidern, it becomes evident in the slightest twitch of a brow, or the tell-tale hiss of moving cloth. When Whip begins to move her arm, Heidern notes it. When Leona's feet start to scuff the earth beneath her feet, he is keenly aware.
Which is why he moves like a blur of olive-brown fatigues and black, soundlessly all but vanishing from his place as the whip lashes out like a snake. It seeks his shoulder, but simply bites open air; he's gone in that instant. When he becomes visible, so to speak, Leona advances. The arm swings with considerable strength, but Heidern dips low, long, impossibly lanky appendages crooking before he rolls backwards. Her arm sails mere centimeters from the top of his beret-clad skull.
He rolls once, then springs to his feet. For one brief moment, Heidern poises in a tripod stance; seconds after he barrels right at Leona, attempting to seize his adoptive daughter by the throat and toss her to the ground, just to prove there's no sort of preference for family here. He wouldn't want Whip to think she's getting the short end here.
"A bit slow," he notes, casually.
Whip, always the kind of soldier who petulently wears her heart, a couple lungs, a liver, and every other possible emotion, clipped to her sleeve, with a face that reads as clearly as an open diary, can't quite mask the flinch of frustration from her brow. Her mouth twitches as her faithful whip, Voodoo, only manages to snatch thin air.
Commander Heidern is just as fast as ever. She couldn't have gotten rusty, she won't even consider it--
Drawing back her weapon to her gloved fist, Whip widens her stance, turning shoulder just in time to catch Heidern make a direct, purposeful beeline straight for Leona. Leona, who Whip bets was expecting her to hold him still just that long to make a tactical hit. This isn't going to end well.
Taking no pause to come to the rescue of her beloved friend, as well as attempting to capitalize on any blind spot of the Commander's missing eye, she tries to slip in with a skid of her boots the instant he reaches out to try to steal his adopted daughter's throat--
--and accuses them of being slow.
"I -- respectfully disagree, sir!!"
With a grab to one of her holsters, Whip rips free a hunting knife, flipping it inside her hand as she tries to sink the blade into Heidern's outstretched arm, trying to catch the fabric and flesh underneath and simply rip it in one serrating line, following it up with a bold smash of her fist, brass-knuckled with the knife's hilt, right up at the man's unsmiling jaw.
COMBATSYS: Leona blocks Heidern's Medium Throw.
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|-------
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Leona 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Whip
She would never expect such courtesy out of her father. It wouldn't be like him, even with all of the things that he /has/ done for her in the past-- from learning how to shoot a gun to being read to at night when she was a child. Of course, in those days, books like "Goodnight, Moon" were more like accounts and reports of war stories committed to paper, or if he was absolutely desperate, reading from a SOP manual about the proper handling and maintenance of an AR-15 assault rifle.
His iron grip twines around her throat, and Leona stifles a "ghk-!" before her weight is pulled up from the ground. Her own leather gloves creak as her hands wrap around her father's wrist, and the Brazillian shifts her weight to plant her feet on the ground even while her back bends to an awkward angle to keep from completely falling to the ground.
Her feet spread further than shoulder width apart and she pushes back, forward against his strength. Trying to get into a straight contest of strength with /Heidern/ is more or less a fool's errand, that much she knows well. Instead, she swings a leg up to get a foot up on the Ikari commander's leg, pushing off into a low backwards flip while swinging her arms up to break his grip...
... and then crossing them over her chest before lashing outward with both arms, creating a large X of that cutting energy. Whip strikes from below, she'll take the route above!
COMBATSYS: Heidern blocks Leona's X-Calibre.
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|-------
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////////// ]
Leona 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Whip
COMBATSYS: Heidern interrupts Medium Strike from Whip with Medium Punch.
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|------=
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////////////// ]
Leona 0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0 Whip
Forcing Leona to the ground by way of her throat, there is no shred of mercy from the Ikari CO as he makes his move. His face is void of any tell-tale emotion; if this is affecting him in any fashion, he is by no means revealing it. Instead, he treats her as he would any other soldier. There are no favorites here, no gender or bias. Only soldiers.
She does well enough against the applied strength; fighting back, he would expect no less of the young Orochi-blooded child he raised into a grown adult. Her arms swing, breaking his grip from her neck, followed by a leap and slash of chi, x-shaped energy. Lifting a hand, the Ikari Commander swings it out wide, colliding his fist into the explosion and dispersing it.
Then, footfalls.
Glancing aside, there's another woman hot on his heels--with a knife. He smirks, but the gesture is so faint, so discreet one blink and you'd miss it. She comes in swinging the blade--and Heidern's arm careens against her arm, the blade slicing across his muscled arm, slicing through flesh and cloth. He does not flinch; instead, the one-eyed commander takes the /other/ gloved hand and backfists it across Whip's face.
Definitely no favoritism here.
"An improvement," he notes in that same, casual manner. "Teamwork is a strong point among the Ikari. I am glad to see you both haven't forgotten it."
That wicked knife, polished with daily sharpening, cleaves a straight, clean line down the Commander's arm. But his limb, not even twitching with pain, invoked with years of resistance to such a needless thing, merely turns, catching the tip of her knife one heartbeat too long. Unable to free her weapon, unable to follow up the attack, Whip does what any good Ikari shouldn't.
She dares a glance up at Heidern.
Then his fist solidly upsides her across the face.
There Whip goes, skidding across the concrete from where her commanding officer dropped her, blood dripping off the corner of her mouth. Breathing shallowly, blinking her eyes to center her whirling head, she anchors herself with both outstretched arms to try to catch her reeling body. That hurt.
She's going to be feeling that one for at least the next two weeks. Welcome home, Whip, indeed.
Spitting out a bit of blood, the ex-Cartel assassin can't help but grin to herself.
'
"Thank you, sir," she replies his comment cordially. "A- allow us to school you on how much we do know. Bluebird! Movement theta!"
And that's when the bullwhip unravels out of Whip's hand, its heavy length not even hitting the earth before she's swung it forward. It follows her direction with intimate knowledge, the young woman bursting forward as she hurtles the weapon to try to rake across Heidern in a stinging slash, enough to try to disrupt his mark enough to allow his daughter a direct path.
Whip and Leona do make a good team: Whip with her hot-headed passion and cruel ranged attacks, Leona with her cold logic and deadly close-range assaults.
And Whip is now turning her whip against the Commander, attempting again and again to shred him with startling hits, but so careful enough not to touch her teammate, even directing some strikes to let Leona slip over and under the reach of her weapon.
Then, Whip tries to catch the commander by the ankle. Should it connect, she's going to try to full-bodily throw him by that very line once more, her sharp eyes watching for Leona's counterplay on their dual symphony--
By the time she hits the ground and makes her recovery, it's too late to cover for the distance closed between her father and her partner. Heidern's knuckles crack against Whip's jaw while Leona lands hands and feet on the ground. The position in all fours lasts for only a fraction of a second; Leona's knees touch the ground while her weight rocks backwards, pushing off into a handspring that affords her precious clearance from her Heidern's strikes and the sting of Whip's weapon.
She doesn't hesitate. The moment Whip strikes, the moment that she calls the attack, Leona is already diving into what should be a certain beating at the hands of that vicious blue bullwhip. She ducks and weaves, using the weapon's strikes to mask her movements and vice-versa-- and then she reaches out to grip her father by the collar of his shirt, flipping her weight straight over his head.
Twisting in the air, Leona releases the Ikari commander's shirt only long enough to land on the balls of her feet. The moment her backside hits her heels, she bounds both upward and forward, just high enough to swing a heavy, crashing kick at the back of Heidern's knees to assist the takedown!
COMBATSYS: Heidern blocks Whip's Boomerang Shot.
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|-----==
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Leona 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Whip
COMBATSYS: Heidern dodges Leona's Heavy Kick.
[ |||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|-----==
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > //////////////////////// ]
Leona 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Whip
Again, there is absolutely no remorse on the Commander's face as Whip is thusly backhanded and sent reeling from the force of his blow. Instead he remains cold and detached, methodical and predatory as he stands against two of his most highly trained soldiers. To underestimate them would be foolish; they're lethal separate, but more so together.
When Whip speaks up to her cohort Leona, the Ikari's brow lifts only slightly. Whip's instantaneous strike with the whip lashes out, striking the man's chest. He blinks once in response, a discreet flinch as the whip lashes his skin through the fabric of heavy fatigues. Where he has only one eye, years of experience and time spent in the depths of Hell itself have finely trained his other senses. He hears shifting of cloth, the pad of rubber soles on busted asphalt.
The second snare is avoided; leaping back and all but /into/ the incoming Brazilian soldier, Heidern avoids being snared; instead, just before Leona snares him by the fatigues he suddenly twists and ducks, an oddly graceful feat for a man over fifty and six-feet tall. Yet it works; fluid and precise, his movements are flawless as he avoids being slammed by the crushing blow of his adoptive daughter's kick.
When he comes to rise at full height, he pivots sharply on polished boots, attempting to seize Leona by the scruff of her collar and pick her up--only to slam her back into the ground, followed by a heavy slam of his fist into her stomach with a faint "Hmph!"
At first, it appears so seamless. As though there's no way, barring physics, that the Commander could not escape both their reach.
But Commander Heidern, for all his blunt, direct manner, is a slippery man to catch. Whip's bullwhip falters a second time to catch him, the young woman left huffing out a half-frustrated, half-exasperated breath against the Commander's quickness. Of course, this skill only brings her to admire the man all the more, testifying to why she follows his orders, why she persists to make the Ikari Warriors her very existence--
--but this could mean latrine duty! If Jones catches wind of this, he won't make it easy for either of them! Whip couldn't take a week of it-- not that--
Sobering from her desperate thoughts, the young woman has only a second to watch as Leona's similar assault meets air... and then her father's full attention, as he lashes out for the Brazilian's collar.
"Leona--!!" Whip calls in warning and dismay, not even wanting to relish the thought of someone taking one of Heidern's direct hits. Her own head is still whirling.
But he told them -- commanded them -- not to hold back.
So as Heidern descends upon Leona, Whip drops to one knee, pulling out a god damned .44 Magnum against her commanding officer. Whip takes a split second to line a shot, and fires her Redhawk straight at the shoulder.
COMBATSYS: Leona blocks Heidern's Lead Belcher.
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|-----==
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Leona 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Whip
Leona's kick is ultimately /flawless/. A proper application of power and speed, a total lack of hesitation, smooth movements from her torso all the way down to her feet. However, there's still a gap of skill and experience that separates father from daughter, a chasm that she can only one day hope to cross. Some small part of her chides herself, telling herself that she needs to be faster, she needs to be stronger, she needs to be more aggressive.
There's a darkness inside of her-- a hollow promise of just that kind of ability-- that stirs for only the faintest of moments, but it drifts to slumber before the Brazillian girl can even process what it was, let alone that it even exists.
Pulled right up off the ground and back to her feet, Leona tightens her stomach and brings her arms forward like a boxer preparing to ward the blows away. The fist makes impact, but her elbows provide some coverage and the tension helps to distribute the shock through her abdomen.
Heidern gave them specific instructions. She plans to follow them to the letter.
Reaching out for her father's collar again, Leona draws back her arm and allows her fingers to straighten, her arm to go rigid from elbows to the tips of her fingers. Hoping to pull the taller man down a little into an akward position, Leona thrusts her hand forward with those 'stabbing' fingers aimed at the Ikari commander's throat-- and keep him staggered long enough for Whip's shot to hit home.
COMBATSYS: Heidern blocks Leona's Leona Crush.
[ ||||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|-----==
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Leona 0/-------/---====|==-----\-------\0 Whip
COMBATSYS: Heidern fails to slow Super Blackhawk from Whip with Cross Cutter.
[ ||||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|----===
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Leona 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Whip
For the moment, Heidern's focus is on Leona. He descends like some awful bird of prey, seeking to snare the Brazilian woman, drop her and ultimately punch her in the gut. In theory it was an excellent plan; in execution, Leona does not disappoint; she handles it all as well as he could imagine it.
She lashes out quickly, which ultimately serves the two well. Snared by Leona, he fights her off by catching her at the wrist and seizing it, seeking to apply just enough pressure to render it 'useless,' while not seeking to actually /damage/ the wrist. In short, he seeks to nullify her assault. The follow-up is, however, not as expected.
Struck, Heidern staggers back several steps, raspily gasping before he shrugs it off. It's just as he seems to advance upon Leona when he catches sound of a hammer being clicked into place. Almost instantly the man SLAMS his booted heel down harshly. He pivots in one, sharp turn to about-face and squarely stare at Whip with his single blue eye.
Arms suddenly flicker and dance with harsh, icy blue and white energy--chi. He begins to bring them both up in a cross-like fashion when the gun fires. But, before he can intercept the bullet with that awful burning energy, the trigger is pulled--and a shot fired. The result: Heidern is struck in the shoulder, a spray of red as the bullet lodges into flesh and muscle.
Wincing, the man staggers a half-step, gloved hand reaching up to grasp his shoulder. At first he is surprised--then, slowly, he actually /smiles/. This is a rare event, indeed.
"Bringing a gun to a fist fight...that's the Whip I know," he rumbles with a humorous lilt. "And Leona, good foot work. Excellent; but by all means, do not stop. I haven't properly warmed up yet."
Whip's soft features shade with a scissory smile, something sharp and wicked, borderline a rakish smirk.
She probably picked that particular expression up from her errant twin brother. Not that she'll ever admit that.
"Learn from the best, sir," she replies aside her smoking gun, spinning it on her hand to holster cleanly at her side. Despite her serrated smile, her eyes are good-natured, and her words sincere. Whip has nothing but absolute respect for the Commander.
But it doesn't mean she's not privately overjoyed to finally put a bullet in him.
They don't have time to stop now. There's no pause as the brunette soldier rushes forward, trying to capitalize on her lucky shot, blurring forward to try to beeline as a direct, harsh target; she's giving Leona the time and chance to try something more strategic.
As Whip rushes forward, with her usual recklessness (her brother also would testify to this well) and honest way. She slings her whip in, attempting to catch Heidern by one wrist--
--but the hit, whether it connects, is essentially pulled, a fluke, something to try to distract him...
...as Whip suddenly launches in to try to SLAM a fist across his face.
There's the smallest twitch of irritation in her face as her wrist is seized, held in place. It isn't so much that she's angry, but the pressure on the bones of her wrist does actually hurt a bit-- and despite arguments from coworkers or people who have been at the wrong end of a Leona Heidern-administered beating, she /is/ still a human being.
Pulling her arm back with a sharp jerk of her arm after her attack has been dealt with, Whip's turn comes forward-- and she pulls off the gunshot with the precision and timing that she would have expected. Strange that she doesn't freak out that he's being shot by one of the only people in the world she would ever consider to be a friend. Stranger yet that Leona is actually proud that she managed to do it.
The Heiderns are pretty fucked up, if you couldn't guess this by now.
Still, Leona shifts her weight and gathers her focus, hoping to capitalize on the distraction that having a .44 magnum round lodged in your shoulder can create-- no matter how much of a badass you are. Her hands ball into fists as her arms cross over her chest, and she focuses all of that cutting, slashing chi--
-- into a ball that forms as her arms pull back as she lets out a brief, gutteral shout, the swirling mass of slashing and devistation pushing forward through the air as Leona takes a small hop toward Heidern!
COMBATSYS: Heidern dodges Whip's Strong Punch.
[ |||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|----===
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Leona 0/-------/---====|====---\-------\0 Whip
COMBATSYS: Heidern blocks Leona's Baltic Launcher.
[ ||||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|---====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > /////////////////////// ]
Leona 0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0 Whip
As he holds his ground, the Ikari CO observes both women carefully in that one, minor window of opportunity. He surmises in mere seconds the situation, and so far it has been going favorably for him--sort of. He could certainly be worse off, but he isn't. Maybe he /is/ getting a little soft in his older age, he wonders to himself.
Whip's sudden movement stirs his one eye toward her, just before Leona begins her movement. The former NESTS assassin reaches out, but Heidern simply hops back, distancing himself a foot or so, keeping her arm just out of reach of his weathered face. If she looks hard enough, she just might notice a smirk.
But Leona has yet to be dealt with.
Pivoting on his booted heel, the Commander's long arms snap up, crossing over his chest and face in an x-shape fashion to absorb the rolling, angry mass of chi that is sent hurtling his way. It stings, cutting through the fabric of his fatigues, but Heidern holds his ground.
"Leona, you're overexerting yourself," he notes in a dry tone, lacking any emotion. "But I suppose Whip's cautiousness makes up for it. A good tactic. But--"
In hopes of maybe proving how potentially reckless such an endeavor is, the older man suddenly moves, seeking to rip around /behind/ Leona and skid into a low crouch before SNAPPING an arm out, a knifehand aimed for the small of her back.
Whip's calloused knuckles, known well by many bruised faces over the globe, don't get the chance to make proper introduction with Heidern. Her fist slices through dead air. And, momentarily so close, the ex-assassin's dark eyes can't help but widen.
He couldn't have--
Did the Commander just--
--smirk?!
Just like all the times before, finding herself on the receiving end of some defiant, taunting smirk, Whip feels some last thread of composure simply snap in her like some thanksgiving wishbone.
She can't help but liken smirks to unspoken dares. Dares that she will always, always accept. Now it's on. Now it's ON.
Skidding back down to her feet, Whip watches as in that brief, gunshot moment Heidern turns again on his daughter, trying to slip through her own defences to attack her turned back. The brunette just grits her jaw. She can't let that happen. Commander or not, she'll show /him/ for /smirking/--
There's an sudden CRACK that seethes against every eardrum, as Whip brings Voodoo back out into the air and letting the weapon unfurl to its fifteen-foot length. With one violent PUSH of her arm, she sends it forward, attempting to catch Heidern around the neck. If it connects, she tries to WRENCH backwards--
COMBATSYS: Heidern successfully hits Leona with Backstabbing.
[ ||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|---====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Leona 1/----===/=======|====---\-------\0 Whip
Leona knows Heidern's knife-hand technique all too well. She uses it.
So in the middle of the chaotic exchange between Whip and Heidern, culminating in the sudden appearance of her adoptive father behind her back, her eyes visibly widen. At moments like this, Leona would never even dare to think that her he's getting on in years, especially when that hand strikes the small of her back in the way a pile bunker would take to concrete.
The Brazillian gasps as her weight shifts to a jarringly off-balance position, her legs at an awkward position and back arched, flying across the tarmac like a human projectile. Leona lands along her right leg, sprawling across the asphalt on her side before reflexes and instinct take over.
It's an awkward sprawl, her arm straight out and ultimately rolling /on/ her shoulder, but she hits her back and uses the momentum to roll into a squat. A little sweat on her brow, she ignores the scuffs and scrapes along her thigh and knee-- because her arms are immediately lifting into a ready position, ready to defend herself at a moment's notice for a follow-up attack.
When she goes motionless, she really does look like something of a predator, a living statue that shifts only in the most subtle of ways. She's thinking of a way to adjust her tactics, of how to cope with her father without leaving so many holes open in both offense and defense. The stillness helps with calming her mind, even if the warmth of blood on her skin and the dull throb hang in the background with the ache in her spine.
Is it hesitation? Not really. She's just looking for that one shining moment, like a sniper in wait for the sound of thunder to hide their shot.
COMBATSYS: Leona focuses on her next action.
[ ||||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|---====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Leona 1/----===/=======|====---\-------\0 Whip
COMBATSYS: Heidern blocks Whip's Strength Shot - Shouri.
[ ||||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|---====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////////////////// ]
Leona 1/----===/=======|=====--\-------\0 Whip
If Heidern feels /any/ shred of sympathy or remorse for what he just did to the young woman he all but raised as his own flesh and blood, it certainly does not show on his weathered face. Instead, the Ikari CO just executes the attack, striking the blue-haired Brazilian /hard/ in the back with enough force to launch her forward like a damn missile. She recovers nicely, however; that much is likely some shred of relief, if Heidern is capable of human emotion.
Rising slowly like some monstrosity, the one-eyed soldier's gaze shifts from Leona's crouched form to the other Ikari woman--Whip. Focusing that cold blue eye solidly on her gaze, he stares unflinching at the young woman. The very gesture is almost taunting, if one perceives it in such a fashion. He's all but beckoning her to come at him.
And she does follow through on their unspoken dare. Lashing out with her beloved Voodoo, the blue-hued bullwhip snaps with deafening sound, grabbing him around the neck--it seems. If Whip notes it, one of his long arms has come up, intercepting the suffocating grasp with his forearm.
The harsh tug pulls him forward, and he falls to the ground, first by way of one knee before he's drug flat on his stomach and chest. The other hand reaches up, gripping the whip choking at his neck and ripping it around and off his neck. Once free, he'll roll forward before he all but leaps at Whip, using that forward momentum to attempt to drive the heel of his rubber soled military boot straight into her stomach and send her /flying/.
COMBATSYS: Whip interrupts Fierce Kick from Heidern with Strength Shot - Chikara.
- Power hit! -
[ ||||||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|---====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Leona 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\0 Whip
Not even Whip is so emotionally-fortified that she can hide the wince when father attacks daughter, that famous knife-handed technique of Heidern's burying clean into the small of Leona's back. There's no way that didn't hurt like all hell. Now it's up to her to keep the Commander's attention off her teammate, and allow Leona those few, extremely precious moments to center herself.
There's no way anyone is getting up from that so quickly.
Wrenched off of him, Whip's weapon falls harmlessly to the ground, all fifteen feet of that corded leather waiting patiently for direction by its mistress... who is quickly glancing up, eyes widening as the Commander recovers inside a heartbeat to rush towards her. Jaw steeling, it happens so quick that Whip almost doubts seeing it at all -- but no, it's there, right in front of her eyes. She can see an opening in her leader's attack. But it means she'll have to--
--but he /dared her./
Whip's expression darkens, and at the last moment, slides one leg back and simply bears down. She braces, summoning up all the strength between her augmented genetics and years of training, and simply leaps to meet Heidern head-on, that familiar look of total, utter recklessness branded in her brown eyes.
Twisting, the young woman takes the kick solidly in the shoulder, and utilizes the dizzying momentum to bring her other arm in... and with a CRACK of leather, solidly brings in several violent whipstrikes back upon her beloved Commander.
It happens so fast, because a second later, she's accepting her fate, her body SLAMMED backward from Heidern's solid kick and left to skid ruthlessly across the tarmac into a silent heap.
Waiting for your friend to take a beating is usually the worst thing that you can do-- but Leona does it, looking for the opportunity to strike when Heidern is the most occupied by Whip and her daring counter to his brutal, straightforward attack. Still, she isn't entirely heartless.
As the whip-slinging Ikari is thrown backwards, the blue-haired Ikari /charges/, reaching out with one arm to catch her by the upper arm on the sprint in order to bring the chances of going flying across the tarmac and crashing into the side of someone's parked Jeep by the hangars down to a minimum. But it's only a momentary grip, because then she just. Keeps. Going.
Springing into the air, Leona reaches out with both arms to grab at Heidern's collar again, wounded shoulder and all. While the attack is not elaborate, it may yet still be /effective/: Her legs swing out wide, aiming to lock her knees around the Ikari Warrior's head and /throw/ her weight straight backwards. She'll rock low before her hands hit the ground and muscles work in a destructive symphony, aiming to throw him down headfirst into the concrete!
COMBATSYS: Heidern endures Leona's Medium Throw.
[ |||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|--=====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Leona 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\0 Whip
There is a very, very brief moment when Heidern seems almost-almost--surprised when Whip actually goes forth to meet him halfway; to be honest, he hadn't expected her to actually advance. He anticipated a defensive reaction at best. But she surprises him, and that is a good thing. A good Ikari is an unpredictable Ikari.
Whip strikes out, Voodoo lashing out several times despite the vicious kick into the young woman's body. Leaving lashes and burning red welts, the Ikari Commander recoils post-strike, giving his head a slight shaking out. For as unwieldy as a whip may seem in battle, in the hands of the aptly-named Whip it is a lethal weapon.
He looks to the fallen young woman, giving a silent look of approval. He hasn't been let down so far. When he turns to look to Leona, she's charging /right then/ and then, lashing out to snag her adoptive father, snaring him by his collar before he's leg locked and sent head-first into the aging tarmac. He hits with a meaty, wet THUNK of his beret-clad skull.
A minute later, the Ikari rises from the ground, giving his head another shake, pieces of tarmac and dirt shaking free from his face and beret. He takes it off even, dusting it out before smoothing back his inky black hair.
"And time," he notes with his typical, flat tone. His solitary gaze moves from Leona, then to Whip before his eye shuts. "Grade: B. A few flaws, but otherwise efficient and acceptable. I approve."
Opening his one, blue eye, the Ikari notes with the vaguest hint of humor, "No latrine duty for either of you. However, I expect at the next evaluation a higher grade. If not, well." Latrines for the Ikari ladies.
"Whip, it's good to have you back," he notes to the formerly-absent young woman with the faintest tick of his dry lips. It's a smile, deal with it. "I can only hope your duties went well enough. And Leona, I'm proud to see that you're still as ruthless as ever. You haven't softened up on me."
COMBATSYS: Heidern takes no action.
[ ||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|--=====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Leona 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\0 Whip
Something catches Whip straight out of her trajectory, as Leona's sure, firm hand closes around her upper arm, anchoring the young woman in time to twist her spine and get her feet under her body.
Eyes turning, she has only that moment to flare the Commander's daughter a bright, wide grin.
BEST FRIENDS FOREVER
Let go, Whip plants one gloved hand fleetingly against the tarmac, catching the cement with her opened palm and slowing her backward careen to a scraping stop. Standing straight with a rough breath, she looks up in time to see the Commander take Leona's leg-lock and simply accept what would ventilate the skulls of average men.
She can't help but smile lopsidedly.
Collecting voodoo back to her hand, Whip surveys the scene, finds her next opening, and dashes forward to--
--be stopped by Heidern's next order. Fight is ended. Ejecting herself from her attack, Whip almost trips a little over her own feet to force a second, rough stop, catching herself with a heavy whuff of her breath. It's over? Already? It means he's seen enough. It means he's made his decision. It means--!!
No latrines.
Whip heaves out a realieved sigh, almost looking likely to double over on the spot. But she remembers herself in the presence of the Ikari Commander, affecting a stern, regal posture, obdient and respectful and--
GRADE B?!
"B--!!" Whip stops herself before it's too late, swallowing back her outraged cry at such an assessment. Is she that rusty?! She doesn't get B's! Has the Ikari curve gone up in the last year?!
Forcing back her fluster, she snaps off a sharp salute. "Good to be back, sir! I eagerly await your next orders, Commander sir!"
COMBATSYS: Whip takes no action.
[ ||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|--=====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Leona 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\0 Whip
Of course, a B would be even worse if Heidern used the Japanese system of ranking. Then you'd have things like A-rank, S-rank, and then the dreaded SS and SSS ranks, which are actually pronounced "over-S" and "triple S" depending on where you go. If that were the case, ohhhh the carnage that would rampage across the Ikari base and all of their foes, with Whip at their core...
The look on Leona's face when she catches Whip is fairly neutral, but the look on her face seems to be acceptance, an acknowledgement of the grin and as if to say 'what would you do without me.'
Besides go to K'.
After the impact, Leona ends up on her knees, immediately rolling herself forward and away from Heidern to end back up in a kneeling position. Rising as her father does, the beret being taken off and dusted off is the fair indication that the training exercise is over. Her shoulders shift, her arms lower to her sides, and she resumes that same old-same old passive stance she's famous for, taking the time to tap the toe of her boot against the cement to shift it's fit a little bit.
Grade B.
At least there's no Over-S.
Back straight and arm swinging up for a proper salute, the blue-haired Ikari finally replies aloud, "Thank you, sir."
And then Leona looks out the corner of her eye at Whip to take careful measure of her reaction... and then she grins. Just a little.
COMBATSYS: Leona takes no action.
[ ||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|--=====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Leona 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\0 Whip
Standing with his hands looped around behind his back, the one-eyed Ikari commander just keeps that cycloptic gaze focused between Whip and Leona as each woman responds to his orders. The fight is over--their test of skill has concluded by their Commander's order. He would likely smile if his face could manage it. But they're more than acquainted enough with the man to know he's proud of their work.
But there's no room for favoritism, and theirs is a harsh grade. Was good, he thinks, but there's certainly room for improvement on both their parts--and even himself. Thirty plus years of fighting and training doesn't /mean/ he can just sit idly by and let his skills rust.
Boots scuff against the tarmac, across aging asphalt of the old base as he approaches both women. Once a foot and change from them, he lifts a gloved hand and sets it first on Whip's shoulder, then on Leona's shoulder before it falls lifelessly to his side.
"You are both welcome. It was good to spar with you both again," he notes in a flat tone that speaks volumes to those who are keenly familiar with the aging soldier. He means it, straight from the depths of his heart. He is proud of his two capable soldiers.
"As for orders, I will get to you both as soon as possible. Intel from Southtown and Metro indicate that there are some peculiar things going on in light of this presumed 'tournament' actively happening. King of Fighters." Looking away, Heidern's blue eye fixes on the thick foliage of the mountain horizon. "I'll be looking into that further. For now we're on standby."
Taking a half-step back, he lifts his arm up and places it to his forehead in a crisp, too-stiff salute.
"Dismissed."
And presuming he isn't accosted or stopped along the way, the Ikari Commander paces toward the central building of the Ikari HQ.
COMBATSYS: Heidern takes no action.
[ ||||||||| ]
Heidern 0|-------|--=====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Leona 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\0 Whip
COMBATSYS: Heidern has left the fight here.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ < > ///////////////// ]
Leona 1/----===/=======|=======\-------\0 Whip
The familiar weight of Heidern's hand on Whip's shoulder earns her eyes, as the young woman can't quite disguise that familiar, overzealous look of fondness from her face. She was raised to be that mechanical, unfeeling soldier, but the overemotional Whip still has trouble in the emotions department, especially when it comes to what she holds dear.
She was honest; it feels great to be back. It feels great to be able to return her life back to 'normal' -- or whatever semblance of normal she was able to muster. After settling back into her ranks, she knows she has a lot left on her plate, such as catching up with Ikari intel... as well as tracking down a certain brother of hers. She hasn't told him she's been called back off post. She wanted it to be a surprise.
And as the Commander insinuates the strange occurrences out of Southtown, Whip's attention sharpens immediately. Sounds like K' may be in need of a good surprise.
With total decorum, Whip returns her superior's salute, frozen in position until he ushers them off. "Sir!" she answers firmly.
And then Whip turns, waiting painstakingly for their beloved Commander to step just out of ear-shot...
...when she snags Leona abruptly by the elbow, huddling with her friend to lead them off into the opposite direction, leaning in to whisper.
Whip has a lot to catch up on. But first thing's first:
"Leona. I've obtained... the second book. Meet me at oh-two-hundred at position 21NYC2241258063. We'll read it together."
There are very few people in this world who are allowed to touch Leona in a friendly, familiar manner. One is Heidern. The other is Whip. Those that are not those two people are usually treated to a wrist being twisted to the point of bones nearly breaking or damage being done to the ligaments and tendons.
After Heidern is gone, after she's taken by the elbow, the blue-haired woman's expression is filled with confusion and even the slightest hint of concern, but then Whip explains the situation in detail.
Leona Heidern's face becomes grave.
"Roger."
Log created on 21:07:03 02/18/2011 by Heidern, and last modified on 23:20:25 02/27/2011.