Tiffany - Best Kicks This Side of the Rockies

Description: Tiffany decides to take a bit of a breather in Sunshine City before the connecting flight to her Saturday Night Fight appearance. Unfortunately for her, a /diabolical conspiracy/ has taken an interest in her, and in the students of Pacific High... Can Tiffany hang in there when accosted by a crazy, coked-up maniac?!

The young scion of the Lords family is back home, briefly, for the weekend; she has a Saturday Night Fight in America, and what better way to get psyched up for it than to stop off and see her family on the way? She's taken a moment to say hello to her father in Sunshine City's financial district, and now has most of the rest of the day to herself. She can catch her flight a little later; for now, it's time to take in the sights again!

Stretching out, the blonde cheerleader -- clad, sure enough, in Pacific High's cheerleading outfit -- wanders on the border between the outer, seedier ring of Sunshine City and its nicer interior. She isn't much aware of the criminal bent the city's exterior has taken in recent years; her family usually has no reason to go much beyond, given their company's Sunshine City branch office is squarely in the middle of town.

She sips, irregularly, at a soda purchased from the last In-n-Out she passed. Of /course/ she does, at that; you can't stop back in California and not hit In-n-Out.

'Tits, In-N-Out soda, walking down the street at your ten o'clock. Fake/real?' Frederick looks up from his phone, and glances over to the direction indicated. This was the fifteenth such text message he'd received, but to Alan, Southern California's something approaching a candy store. The blonde American scowls, ratchets off a return text message, and pockets his phone. He shoves the book he's been reading BACK into its stand - it was too thick for him, anyway. Who the hell even bothers reading 'Demonology: A Study In Divine Errata?' Blazer marches out of the door, down the sidewalk, and busies himself lighting a rumpled cigarette and wiping at his nose, hurriedly. The light turns green, and he walks across the street.

'idiot. thats the lords chick from Justice. the one on THE LIST'

Frederick pauses in front of Tiffany, looking every bit like every other homeless drudge who's ever stopped to ask for some change and steal a full-frontal or two - that cheer outfit is Something - but there's - you know, there's more, here. Fred doesn't move when she steps forward, and the homeless diet/exercise routine doesn't really - allow for shoulders quite that broad. Then there's the hammer, and that calloused hand resting so casually on its handle. Fred looks up from Tiffany's hips, meets her eyes, and smiles a tired smile.

"Hey, kid. Line at the In-N-Out crazy? Lunch rush is close to over, right? GoddamnIcouldgoforaburger-" He pauses. Talking to fast. The frown that overtakes his face is telling. When Tiffany invariably tries moving, Frederick steps to the side, blocks her. "Walk with me. You got an opportunity worth talkin' about, and I ain't gonna talk about it here. Don't make me make you."

Frederick gestures to the side, towards an alleyway between two buildings. On the bright side, it's got a stellar view of the beach. On the less-bright side, it's? just a bad situation.

"Name's Frederick. I ain't gonna be untoward, but my partner- might. Take the easier option an' walk with me."

When Tiffany is accosted by the hammer-wielding maniac, sure enough, her goal is to get out of the situation; she weaves to one side, then the other, doing her best to try to get out of things before they escalate... but Fred seems intent on escalation. Her usual easy smile turn into a frown; her hands curl into fists in moments.

Rolling her neck, the teenager takes a second to assess Fred himself; he's got that weapon, which is an important consideration -- but more importantly, he's big and broad. He's got a fighter's physique... which means Tiffany needs to have her guard up.

She does, at least, walk toward the alleyway with him, saying, "Sure thing," though her voice is tense and a little uneven. Her fists tighten further, knuckles whitening as she walks. "So, like -- what do you mean, opportunity?" Once she manages to get more than a couple words out, at least, she manages to adopt her more usual, easy tone of voice -- though it's obvious she's forcing it. Tiffany's not exactly a great liar.

Fred looks over his shoulder once he guides the younger girl down that alleyway - he's not very good at being subtle about his weird-ass perogative, here. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but goes ignored, and Fred turns his attention back to where he's headed; he's hardly concerned about the girl beside him. He ignores her questions for now - eventually, the alleyway leads out to a scenic (romantic?!) overlook with a gorgeous view of the Pacific and the beach below. Fred turns, eyes Tiffany, and ashes his cigarette again. He smiles. It's not friendly.

"You're a damn good cheerleader, right? Somethin' about, uh-- Bromwell, Delgado-- shit." His frown belies whatever superior attitude he'd had, and the man gruffly tugs his phone out of his pocket, thumbs through a screen or three. The phone's absolutely next-generation - not even on the market yet - and Tiffany's bound to notice THAT much.

"Fuckin'-- PACIFIC High, right, OK. So, Lords. You're a damn good cheerleader. Best..." He pauses, looks the girl over, then meets her eyes. "Kicks... this side of the Rockies. Thing is, you're better at more'n cheerleading. You ever get in a fight? Think about it? Don't lie, either - I know. Just tell the truth."

At the very least, Fred's done... a little more research than someone who looks this 'probably-homeless-but-not-/actually/' should have on Tiffany Lords, from her perspective. The phone draws her attention, too; she, of course, has a current generation phone, which gives her a good idea of the extent to which Fred's is completely out-of-control.

She knows, too, what he's /really/ thinking when he draws attention to her kicks; the cheerleader takes a long, slow breath, not exactly fond of the scent of the air around them. With a small frown on her face, she says, "I've been in a few," deciding from the circumstances that it's better just to go along. Unlike most cheerleaders, she has a fighter's situational awareness.

"So, wait... why're you, like, asking, anyway?" she asks, finding her verbal stride completely again. Rocking back on her feet slightly, the blonde adds, "And -- actually, lately I guess I'd call it a /lot/ of fights... 's kinda fun!" Other than when you get a stinger from trying to headbutt a headbutt, anyway.

Frederick thinks to himself while Tiffany's talking - he sort of listens, sure, but he knows what she's going to say. The eyes are too bright, the hair too well-done, the attitude too perky. He watches the ocean for a while, and tosses the butt of that cigarette over the side of the balcony, to watch it fall for a few seconds.

"Just wanted to make sure it's you. It's important to know about the big names. D'you know you're doin' more than high-school bullshit fights? You look too good, you don't try hard enough - it's all fuckin' sports and fun to you. That ain't right. I'm not here to knock some goddamn sense into you, but I'm here to tell you you've got too much goin' on to explain it as playing at high school bullshit." Frederick turns on his heel, and spins to face Tiffany again. He smiles, another unfriendly crinkling of the face.

The man's green eyes cant left, towards people passing the alleyway and its vista by. "Not everybody can do the shit you can do. Or this Bromwell kid. Or the Delgado guy. So what're they doin' at Pacific that makes you kids so goddamn good? Is it the magic meat at lunch? There a gym teacher runnin' special drills after class? We-- -I- gotta know."

His voice raises towards the end - it's not exactly an implied threat, but, well. Yeah, it is.

COMBATSYS: Frederick has started a fight here.

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Frederick        0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Tiffany has joined the fight here.

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Tiffany          0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0        Frederick

Glancing to the side and looking across the overlook, Tiffany takes a moment to force her stance to loosen up again. "Daddy paid for lessons starting when I was ten," she says; she feels like she may have surpassed those on her own once she started cheerleading, but she has the feeling that Frederick already knows that, given how much he seems to know /already/.

"So... I dunno if Pacific has anything to do with it!" Glancing up into the air, she spends a few moments playing the airhead to the hilt. It's not exactly an act -- but she's at least canny enough to know how to crank it up in the moment. Her lips purse slightly, and she stares vacantly off the balcony...

All at once, Tiffany leaps into the air with considerable force, putting herself perhaps ten feet above the disheveled man. If he doesn't keep those green eyes /up/, he's liable to eat a foot as she spears back down with it, aiming it for Frederick's chest. "So, like -- who's 'we'?!" she demands of him, as her foot spikes downward.

To /her/, of course, there's a narrative here -- the weird things at the schools, people spying on people... and now this cryptic conversation! She's /sure/ she's getting close to something...!

COMBATSYS: Frederick blocks Tiffany's Exciting Kick.

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Tiffany          0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0        Frederick

"You know," comments Frederick, watching Tiffany respond like he'd rather hoped she would - the leaping into the air, the spiraling downwards. The kick connects nothing but solid, bricklike shoulder, and Blazer staggers back a step or two, lets out an appreciative grunt. He grimaces when the pain sets in, but doesn't let that stop him at all - to the contrary, it's driving his next movements, the lunging step forward, the lowering of his stance.

That placid, pained attitude doesn't leave his face while he bulls inwards--

--tugs that hammer from his back--

--and slams it upwards, into Tiffany's stomach while she descends, a two-handed strike bound to send her flying.

"Guys. We do some stuff. Things. Am I gonna have to beat the answers out of you? Sure got defensive, pretty quick."

COMBATSYS: Tiffany dodges Frederick's Soft Target.

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Tiffany          0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0        Frederick

"Don't be such a creepazoid!" comes Tiffany's reply as she moves herself into a quick kick-off, whirling through the air effortlessly and narrowly evading Frederick's tremendous hammer. "Like -- come on!!" She can't really articulate /why/ she's so skeeved out by Frederick... but she is, and she really, /really/ doesn't like the situation she's put herself in.

Skidding across the ground, she adds, "What would you do if someone led /you/ into an alleyway like a weirdo?!" She takes a moment to spin her body around, working up a little more momentum; it's hard to get her footing back after an an acrobatic maneuver like that.

Pinwheeling her arms, at first it looks like Tiffany's just trying to catch her balance after a rough landing; after a moment, though, she manages to get the pinwheeling under control, building up sparkles around her fist. After a few rotations, she sends her whole body forward, transferring the momentum -- and the energy -- into a high-speed punch. Even throwing it out, though, leaves her looking a little winded...

COMBATSYS: Frederick interrupts Very Groovy Punch from Tiffany with Hell To Pay.

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Tiffany          0/-------/---<<<<|===----\-------\0        Frederick

Frederick watches Tiffany kick-off, face impassive, and follows through with his heavy hammer swing - it's clear that his is a fighting style that leaves *QUITE* a few openings, just in the sheer momentum he brings to his attacks. The man doesn't have time to talk back at Tiffany when she simply *surges* across the ground at him; while she's closing the gap, she'll catch a twinkle in those too-small eyes, a quirk of a smirk on those chapped lips.

"Ah, honey--" Tiffany's momentum finds her the rock slamming into a hard place-- in this case, it's Frederick's hammer *SLAMMING* back down, cascading in sizzling yellow energy!! The movement's perhaps a bit earlier than an experienced combatant might have fought possible, but there's a reason a man leaves himself so open. That hammer impacts Tiff's shoulder, sure, but that's not enough to rob her punch of its force, and she sends Fred spinning back again, almost losing his grip on his weapon in the meantime.

"That's a good point. A lil' creepy, sure, but they didn't hire me 'cuz I'm good at this sort of thing. I just need to figure out what makes you Pacific kids *tick*, you know? Is it the nurse? She got some kinda voodoo in the vaccine?"

Tiffany is acutely familiar, of late, with how someone attacking into your attack works; Makoto made quite sure of that. It doesn't make it suck any less, though -- she reels back from that hammer to the shoulder, clutching at it with one of her hands as she finds her positioning again. It's a little tricky to find one's stride again after a blow like that...

... but she's still in the groove, and she knows just how to finesse it. "... Are you, like, for real? Is this /really/ what you're gonna go for...?" That's the only answer she can think of when he continues his line of inquiry; part of her is almost upset that he's trying to justify Pacific's elite status to himself, when as far as Tiffany knows, Pacific -- and Tiffany herself -- has /always/ been the realm of the elite.

Taking a moment to lean back, Tiffany seems like she might try to bolt for it... but no, that'd be /ridiculous/. Who would try to get out of a bad situation? Instead, she swings her body forward into a cartwheel, extending her legs as much as possible to hit Fred with each of them as she moves forward, hoping to give his defenses the old one-two.

COMBATSYS: Frederick interrupts Groovy Wheel EX from Tiffany with Blindsided.

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Tiffany          1/-----==/=======|====---\-------\0        Frederick

Frederick winds his arm around while Tiffany recovers from THAT nonsense, chi spilling off of his form and dissipating into the ground at his feet. He glances alleywards again - is anybody coming?? That last hit was... loud. The man sees nobody there, and quickly brings his attention back to Tiffany, whose question prompts another grin. He remembers being where she was, ten years back.

"All the questions in the world, n' no answers -- God, it's gotta suck bein' in the dar--!!" Frederick's NOT prepared for a goddamn CARTWHEEL, and when Tiffany just sort of acrobatics towards him, his reaction's the same as it always is - he holds up his weapon, hammerhead down, and hopes Tiffany doesn't fucking kill him with her legs. The attack hits - and it hits HARD - which has Fred taking the impact of a double-kick square on the nose, but it puts Tiffany in an exceptionally bad position. Namely, she's still coming down, and Fred's bringing that weapon *up*.

Lords' cartwheel meets a rising hammer, and the impact includes all of the power in the muscles along Fred's very well-worked back.

"DARK! Answer the goddamn questions, yeah?!"

The hammer catches Tiffany in the thigh, sending her spinning end over end; landing squarely on her butt, Tiffany just sits there for a little while, clearly in no small amount of pain. She feels her leg screaming out in agony... but at the very least, she's started to get a little offense in.

"I don't have your answers!" Tiffany shoots back, knuckles turning white as she clenches her fists even tighter; her expression sours a little bit as she tries to find her groove again. All she finds, though, is the urge to get away from him... but he's bigger and faster, which means to do that, she's going to have to put him down for the count.

Ducking low, Tiffany starts to spin on her heel; her eyes narrow as she looks for just the right spot to throw a fist out at him, her hand wreathed in tiny, winking sparkles. When she finally pops up, it's with a forceful, spinning back knuckle -- one which seems to 'pop' with sparkles as she throws it, for just a moment.

COMBATSYS: Frederick blocks Tiffany's Very Groovy Knuckle.

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Tiffany          1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0        Frederick

No answers. Fred's face is hard to read, but the furrow between blonde eyebrows is pretty unmistakably frustration. What the fuck is happening at these schools? He's already making a note to talk to Alan about it. He opens his mouth to speak up again, but Tiffany's *FAST* on the rebound; normally people don't recover from his attacks quite as fast as she does. Fred knuckles down.

"Goddamned..." She surges forward - he surges downwards, bringing up his arms again.

"Fuckin'---" The punch is thrown, and Fred's arms go high! The hit collides with his forearms squarely, sending a shiver through his body, but more concerning to the man are the

"Sparkles?!! The hell!" He opens his stance, bringing a hand up to catch the handle of that hammer once again. The movement he makes is almost casual - a lowering of his arm, a sweep of that heavy construction tool - but it's disgusting in its reach, horrific in its momentum. The sound it makes is low, dull through the air.

"Explain the goddamn sparkles, then!!"

COMBATSYS: Tiffany dodges Frederick's Random Strike.

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Tiffany          1/------=/=======|======-\-------\0        Frederick

"I'm just good at fighting! It's not -- like -- it's not weird! Unless you think fireballs are weird, too!" Tiffany shoots back as she starts wheeling back, trying to keep out of the path of that heavy, heavy hammer. That thing's downright terrifying -- now that she's eaten a couple shots from it, she's not exactly eager to take any more of them.

"Just... just..." She ducks low again, hoping to lull Fred into thinking she's going to go for the same kind of low-to-standing spinning backfist again. She is, after all, a teenager -- maybe her offense really /is/ one-dimensional!

Her /actual/ plan, however, is to put those 'best kicks this side of the Rockies' to good use. She takes another half-step forward, dipping even lower, and sticks her leg out in a forceful sweep. "Look -- just, okay?!" She can't actually staple together much of a comeback, at this point; the situation is almost surreal. Besides -- why /should/ she tell him anything, given the circumstances?

COMBATSYS: Frederick endures Tiffany's Light Kick.

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Tiffany          1/-----==/=======|=======\-------\0        Frederick

Fred's a coked-out mess, completely off his rocker in the best of times, and not quite the smartest person alive, either -- but he's got his principles, and he does his job, and he likes to think he does it better than anybody around. So when Tiff lunges back from Frederick's first hit, she'll find the brawler following his swing with wide, sprinting steps - he's not letting the girl get ANY quarter. It's a complete rushdown, and she'll need to deal all that momentum!

"LISTEN, HONEY--" Fred doesn't even *bother* looking at Tiffany's goods when she flashes them - that's Alan's deal - and instead focuses on letting her leg hit him square in the arm. It'll bruise, but he's got more on his mind than that. "DIDN'T WANNA HAVE TO PUT THE FEAR OF GOD IN YA--"

Tiffany wanted surreal.

The hammer's gone, back in its place on his back. In its stead, the familiar yellow-and-black of heavy industrial equipment flashes for an instant in Fred's fists - a ripcord is pulled, and the diesel hum of an engine preceeds that shrieking rip of an engine pulling a chain into itself. Whirling sawblades spin on the razor edge of a *goddamn chainsaw*, and Frederick lifts his elbow, pulling Tiffany's block out of the way and beginning a violent, repetitive spin with that blade, circling over and over, again and again into her defenseless midsection!!

It's a murder technique. That's what this is.

COMBATSYS: Tiffany interrupts Hurly Burly from Frederick with Rival Launcher EX.

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Tiffany          0/-------/-----==|=======\===----\1        Frederick

The ripping blade comes out, and Tiffany gets a glint in her eye; she looks it dead-on, watching it carefully. The blade itself is scary... but, she realizes, the /sides/ are totally harmless. And without her usual gloves to get in the way...

She reaches out, grasping either side of the weapon with her hands and throwing it -- and the overcommitted Frederick -- up into the air. It shreds her hands a little bit... but she'll heal, she thinks. Getting away with /herself/ is more important than getting away with her hands intact.

Once he's up in the air, Tiffany jumps after him, aiming three kicks for his midsection in the sky -- and /then/, at long last, slams her bleeding hands down into his head, sending him back to the ground.

When she lands just after him, she looks downright terrified -- as if the full gravity of what she just did hit her like a ton of bricks. "JESUS! How do you -- like -- what's your /deal/!? Don't attack me with a chainsaw!" Her eyes widen as she realizes that she's /seriously/ out of her depth with this crazy, coked-out stranger.

It's a manic grin on Fred's face, and it's -- well, more importantly, it's a *manic grin on Fred's face*. He just got housed! Flipped right around like Will Smith! Kicked three times in an admittedly rocky gut! He's hunched and breathing heavy, but there's not even a BIT of a grimace on that dusky face, not even a hint of pain in those too-bright eyes! The man swallows, standing in a hunched-forward posture, and brandishes that chainsaw like a warding stick.

"SEE? YOU'RE NOT 'NOTHIN' SPECIAL!' NOBODY LIVES THROUGH A GODDAMN CHAINSAW! MY BOSSES TOLD ME, THEY SAID, "FRED-"-- Blazer revs the chainsaw's engine - smoke billows from its exhaust, the sound is *incredible*, and-- it drowns out practically everything Frederick tries to say. By the time it dies down--


COMBATSYS: Frederick revs his chainsaw menacingly.

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Tiffany          0/-------/-----==|=======\=======\1        Frederick

As Fred continues to build up that horrifying head of steam, Tiffany decides to hang back herself. She doesn't want to press into a horrifying cluster like that again -- and besides, her hands really, /really/ hurt. Taking a few slow, deep breaths, she tries to figure out /some/ way to put herself in even a slightly better position...

And then it hits her.

She brings her hand up to her mouth, gnawing at her lip for a moment as Frederick rants and raves, and takes a second to... kiss her wounds better. Quite literally, in fact; there's a faint sparkle at her lips, and at the very least, her wound stops bleeding quite so thoroughly.

The steam has built to a head! Frederick is a MONSTER right now - he's gone mad, eyes wild, neck distended, hair *completely* fucked up. The blonde stares at Tiffany while she does that weird kissy voodoo magic and practically shouts - "LIKE THAT! What the HELL is that!? More sparkles!! You and that Roy kid and the Delgado--" His saw revs, threateningly, and Frederick stumbles into another one of those bull-rush dives, expression murderous.

"Explain the sparkles! I ain't submittin' an empty fuckin' report!" His bulldog sprint has him bringing that screaming chainsaw to bear again in a brutal axe-hammer overhead strike. It's mostly intimidation, especially to a seasoned fighter, but Tiffany's on the ropes, right? Fred's not really thinking that hard about it - he's running on instinct.

COMBATSYS: Tiffany successfully aids herself with Kiss of Life.

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Tiffany          0/-------/----===|=======\=======\1        Frederick

COMBATSYS: Tiffany interrupts Timber from Frederick with Beautiful Spin.

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Tiffany          0/-------/----===|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2        Frederick

Tiffany does not respect the chainsaw -- and she's surging with sparkles so thoroughly, in fact, that she gets the urge to do something /real/ stupid. Ducking low, she says, "I -- I just do them! What's your /deal/!?" as she launches her whole body into a forward-flipping kick. It's not entirely unlike the old American standby that is Flash Kick, but hers is slower, less elegant.

And yet somehow, when she does it, it works out fine; her front foot hits the chainsaw on the assembly rather than the blade, meaning she emerges from the flip-kick more or less unscathed, even managing to aim her /back/ foot at Frederick's face, giving him cause to stagger back.

"I -- like, come on, just, I focus and there's sparkles, like how there's some people who focus and there's fire!" There's a beat, before she adds, "... /Probably/! I only watch that stuff on TV sometimes!" She settles back down into stance, watching Frederick cautiously; she has the distinct feeling that he could explode into even nastier offense than what he's brought to bear at any moment.

He doesn't. Tiffany does her acrobatic bullshit onto the chainsaw and flip-kicks (the crowd goes wild!) while Frederick makes an Important Mental Note to never write off cheerleaders again. He takes a hit square to the face, which dazes him, and stumbles backwards while Tiffany recovers her footing. The man's on the ropes now - it's a complete reversal from Tiffany's earlier position - and rubbing at a nose bloodied, presumably from the impact of that goddamn foot. He takes a moment and looks over the balcony, then looks back to Tiffany--

The chainsaw stops. He slings it under his coat, and is about to say something to the high schooler when his phone rings. A finger is upraised, as if to say 'hold on', and Frederick sets the receiver to his ear. He spins around, walking back up the alleyway, and can be heard talking to whoever's called him.

"Yeah, nah, I fucked it up. She's pretty good." Pause. "Nah. There's somethin' goin' on at Pacific, too. Those three kids in the dossier, probably others. Nah. I dunno if it's just fuckin' coincidence or somethin' the school's doin'--" Turns a corner, opens a door he hadn't come out of earlier. It closes- he's gone.

Tiffany is left with questions, but she's intact! It is, at the very least, a great sort of feather to put in one's cap. And those questions--- well. Everybody knows digging around where you aren't supposed to gets your concerns answered one way or the other.

This probably isn't the end of whatever just happened.

COMBATSYS: Frederick has left the fight here.

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Tiffany          0/-------/----===|

Fred decides that it'd be a fantastic idea to leave, and Tiffany... well, for her part, she just breathes a sigh of relief. She has a lot to talk about at school on Monday, that's for damn sure -- and more importantly, she's safe.

Taking a moment to move, slowly, toward the balcony, Tiffany ultimately sits on it, eyes wide as saucers, as she stares off into nothing for a few moments. Jesus Christ, she thinks to herself. She handled herself pretty well, but...

Is this the price of looking into the weird things in the world?

COMBATSYS: Tiffany has ended the fight here.

Log created on 23:38:33 11/08/2014 by Tiffany, and last modified on 04:55:54 11/09/2014.