Honoka - Target Lock

Description: Southtown can be a rough place to live! And even in broad daylight, a simple stroll down the avenue can be the scene for a brutal ass-kicking -- all you can really hope for is to be a kicker instead of a kickee.


That's the sign. Clear as day. It's been up for the past week, and management is likely to keep it up for the rest of the month, because it'd be a damn shame to only have the thing up for just ONE day.

It's a blight on the once-tranquil, old-school appeal of the affluent Southtown Village. A mark of progress -- progress some people want, at the expense of the preservation of history. And it's also got killer deals on completely non-offensive, non-denominational goods that anyone would be perfectly... okay to be caught with.

Unless you're wearing a penguin suit: black jacket, black tie, white shirt, black pants, black sunglasses... you know the deal. And one of those coiled earpiece things that connects to a radio that's undoubtedly concealed in the breast pocket of said suit. And happen to be a tall Japanese guy who looks like he has tons of places he'd rather be than following some smartass, trash-talking Chinese girl around. ". . ." is the only thing he has to say about the latest braggadocio she's been spouting.

A half hour ago, Sudo had begun his mission. And Wing just happened to be the first person he'd met that happened to fit the target description. But she. Would. Not. SHUT UP. It just so happens that she seemed to be looking to impress the guy, as he was making his way towards the Target location. No, really. That's the... target.

"And then I punched him right in the dick! Haaaa ha ha ha ha!"

Wing Xiaoping, would-be gangster extraordinaire, laughs hysterically at the conclusion to her witty anecdote, a sort of banshee shrieking too loud to have emerged from such a diminutive body. Her slender arms are crossed in front of her hooded sweatshirt as she strolls along beside her penguin-suited pal, as odd a pair as one might see. But while she has her characteristic savage grin plastered all over her face, her eyes are looking up at him a little more-- what's the word--

"Do you get it!?"


"That's why, in Hong Kong, they called me Empress Wing! But that was easy mode, you know what I'm saying? Easy mode. Here in Southtown, I'm starting fresh. It's gonna be the real deal. That's why I want to get in with you guys, you know? Whatever you need, bro, I'll help you out. No question. I'll punch anyone, anywhere, no problem!"

Many young women might be unnerved by a stalker such a Sudo. But as soon as Wing detected that she was being followed with the seeming intent to cause a rumpus, she neither fled nor fought. No, she immediately began talking herself up in the most braggadocious manner possible. For she is convinced, simply by his outfit, that Sudo is a member of the Southtown Syndicate.

"You get me, man!?"

And Wing wants in.

"You get me," he answers herself, sounding satisfied.

Her predatory eyes narrow on the, uh, target as they approach. "So what's the job, anyway?" she remarks, sounding forcedly casual. "We gonna rip off this joint? I heard the new One Direction BluRay goes on sale today, yo."

A pause.

"I'm just saying, we could resell it," she adds, flushing.

For a few days more, after her meeting with Alma Towazu, Aya Hazuki continued her real estate search in Southtown. As someone who generally speaking lives a life of relative leisure, she saw no need to hurry. But the more time she spent in Southtown Village in particular, the more... comfortable she felt. Gregarious, even; her trips to local cafes were rife with meeting locals who recognized her, a fact that was confusing to the Kyoto-born swordmistress until someone pointed out: very few people these days wear a traditional kimono to a Starbucks.

It was a relevant point.

Eventually, she found a place that suited her. A fourth floor apartment, the entire top floor of a building that used to be a small girl's finishing school for the children of businessmen and diplomats. The top floor had been, of all things, a dance studio; when it was repurposed into a condo, the landlord had kept the open design concept and used paper screens rather than walls to cordon off much of the actual living space, not counting the kitchen. This meant a nice, long stretch of wooden floor and open space for her to practice in, with wall-high windows looking down on the street below, and the oh-so-popular combination of exposed brick and "industrial" piping/metalwork overhead that was common nowadays.

But beyond that, standing in the room, it had felt... right. Familiar. So she signed the papers and bought it.

The space is full of boxes, now; some things that were shipped from her home in Kyoto, some that are recent purchases. There's a bed, a table, a dresser; necessary things. A full length mirror was already there, and now Aya stands in front of it wearing saidsame salmon-colored kimono, looking at herself carefully.

For a moment, she is struck with the image of herself with long black hair, wearing a much more muted, much more formal version of what she has on. Within minutes, she is trawling the resale stores and clothing boutiques of her new home, a process that lasts for many hours. By the time she emerges from her shopping trip, night is beginning to fall.

On the other hand, the result is pretty stark. Her traditional Japanese clothing has been turned in for a very different look; instead of the short kimono, she now wears a Chinese qipao-style top of a rich orange color with a vaguely-perceptible pattern of chrysanthemums embroidered into it, as well as a pair of comfortable-looking jeans with flared cuffs that are embroidered with stylized waves at the edge, like a miniature Hokusai painting. The jeans in particular had been buried in a rack behind tons of other clothes, yet Aya had found them instantly, like a dowsing rod finding water. To her, it was a sign.

Right now, she's walking home in these new clothes and a simple grey fleece jacket, auburn hair pulled back into a wide ponytail rather than held in place with the usual jade comb. She carries a big shopping bag full of the clothes she'd BEEN wearing, as well as -- you guessed it -- the dark wooden saya that holds her family blade. Never go anywhere without it.

Without realizing it, she finds that her path has been magnetically attracted, once again, to the site of the new Target. She stares at it from a few blocks down, raising an eyebrow. She didn't pass it on the way TO the store. Why is she passing it on the way BACK...?

That she is actually a resident of Southtown Village itself is a detail that goes largely unrecognized by those who have become aware of the orphaned fighter, Hotaru Futaba. While she was left with no family, she wasn't left with nothing. A trust fund, a comfortably large house nestled in the upper class block of the wealthy area, and even a small staff of hired help dating back to the time her father ruled the house with an iron fist are all creature comforts enjoyed by the aspiring fighter. She was never really afforded the opportunity to shop much for herself so the appearance of the newly established megastore was only of particular interest due to the close proximity to the neglected, closed church lot where she trained alone.

With little interest in the great prices and sweet sales, the young fighter in training had passed the site by all week since it opened. What used to be empty sidewalks and quiet streets have become full walkways requiring weaving around the coming and going of customers to maintain her pace on her way to the old lot down the street to train. "Excuse me," she murmurs, slipping aroud a trio of girls blocking much of the sidewalk, only to be forced to come to a stop at a surge of patrons flowing into and out of the front door of the Super Store.

She carries herself like someone who would rather go unnoticed, but the red-scarf wearing marten she's hugging against her chest in her arms does little to help in such goals as a number of the well-meaning customers pause to 'Aw' and 'Coo' at her furry friend. This somehow even translates to the occasional hair-ruffle on Hotaru herself, an act she bears with a faint smile as she resumes trying to negotiate the crowd.

Maybe it will be better to take the long way around in the future. At least on days where she intends to bring the chippering, attention-drawing Itokatsu along for the day. She's finally gotten beyond the entrance, continuing down the sidewalk as she runs her right hand over her squirmy pet's head, releasing a soft sigh. "You just love the attention, don't you," she teases lightly, closing her eyes for only a brief moment as she continues the familiar walk to her familiar sanctuary not much farther down the street.

Sudo cracks a smile in response to Wing's 'punchline.' Because he'd already learned that being -too- stoic makes the yapdog yap MORE, not less. "Yeah," he agrees, just to make sure she understood that, yes, he got the joke, and maybe the time is ripe to move onto the next topic.

Wing's use of the word 'Empress' raises an eyebrow from the black-suited bruiser. Just an eyebrow -- as it'd be really hard to see the brawler's eyes through the dense black sunglasses upon his face. But... Wing still seems one-hundred-percent convinced by his cover. All according to his boss's plan.

"Yeah." responds the stoic man, in response to the call to get Wing into the Syndicate organization he's not even an official member of. Better to just keep quiet and let the loudmouth do the talking, until his mission parameters come into play.

At which point, a young woman in a qi pao top and a gray jacket walk by. But what strikes the bruiser isn't the outfit -- it's the face. The hair.

She's on the list.

"Yeah. I... I get you. But... one thing you should know," he states.

A deliberate pause. "We occasionally get asked to do bad things."

And in broad daylight, even, notes the bruiser. He frowns, somewhat, questioning his directive. It's rare for him to even consider it, attacking someone out in the open like this. But once a -second- young woman makes her appearance, spinning out with a ferret... thing... Sudo's memory is jogged yet again.

One Japanese man, three young Chinese women. This could go poorly.

Sudo reaches into his jacket and pulls out a slender knife. "And... you need to prove yourself." Sudo points to Aya, "Aya Hazuki. The target. Threatened one of our boys with that sword of hers. Intolerable."

He jerks his head over towards Aya. "Get her, and we'll talk. I'll handle my second target."

And without any rhyme or reason, he begins to run, full-tilt, at the cheerful girl. "Miss Futaba!" he cries out, holding up a hankerchief from his pocket. "You forgot something just now..." he calls out, in an odd display of subterfuge.

But he'd be planning to tackle her to the ground once he gets in range, twisting her arm behind her back in a submission hold.

Sudo's never gotten into the center ring before -- but there's a first time for everything.

COMBATSYS: Sudo has started a fight here on the right meter side.

                                  >  //////////////////////////////]
                                  |-------\-------\0             Sudo

COMBATSYS: Hotaru has joined the fight here on the left meter side.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Hotaru           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0             Sudo


Wing's eyes light up like stars.

"Bad things!!"

As if she weren't already enthused enough.

"I'm gonna get all up in that, dogg!"

With the target of her getting-up-in momentarily ambiguous, Wing looks around eagerly like a twitchy chihuahua. She figures they'll break into the store and start throwing passerby around, not being one for subtlety. But when Sudo points out the fashionably-dressed woman, Wing's expression immediately turns queasy. "Looks rich," she snarls, half her mouth twisting up in amusement. "Good enough for me."

It really is, too.

"Alright, man! It's a promise!" In a rare moment of self-awareness, Wing realizes she sounds a little too hopeful with that phrase, and recoils, flustered and muttering to herself. Violent urges allow her to shake off her embarrassment. But Sudo has, like, some sort of ploy. He's shouting something misleading as he attacks some girl with a rat or whatever. That's pretty clever. Wing will have to think of something.

She turns toward the woman with the sword who is minding her own business, takes a deep breath, and recklessly begins charging toward her with her fist drawn back, bellowing at the top of her lungs as she blazes back startled shoppers.


Then she leaps toward Aya and aims to plow a punch right into her fancy-looking face.

She'll never see it coming.

COMBATSYS: Wing has joined the fight here on the right meter side.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Hotaru           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0             Sudo
                                  >  //////////////////////////////]
                                  |-------\-------\0             Wing

COMBATSYS: Aya has joined the fight here on the left meter side.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Aya              0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0             Sudo
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Hotaru           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0             Wing

COMBATSYS: Aya interrupts Strong Punch from Wing with Medium Strike.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Aya              0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0             Sudo
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////////////     ]
Hotaru           0/-------/-------|==-----\-------\0             Wing

COMBATSYS: Hotaru blocks Sudo's Coming To A Town Near You.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Aya              0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0             Sudo
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////////////     ]
Hotaru           0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0             Wing

Things have gotten...



That sword is important. Anyone who knows Aya knows that she never goes anywhere without it, though hilariously she is broadly trained in the martial arts, specifically a large array of kicking techniques, and so she doesn't exactly NEED it to defend herself. It is, in her eyes, more a show of strength than anything else. Someone who carries a katana nowadays is basically saying: yes, I am comfortable being armed in an archaic way in public. Do you want to fight about it?

Because Wing has all the subtlety of a mass extinction meteor event, the screaming that precedes her punch says: yes, she does want to fight about it.

Looking up, Aya has JUST enough time to drop her shopping back and snap the sheathed katana into her right hand before Wing reaches her, the Queen in the Streets, Knave in the Sheets slamming her fist into the auburn-haired woman... but into her hastily-interposed left shoulder instead of her face. This is important: it doesn't do much to soften the blow, but it *does* make Aya's body naturally spin to the LEFT from the impact... which means her *right* arm is coming toward Wing, sword in hand. This gives her immediate access to Wing's soft underbelly (i.e. her stomach), and Aya swiftly and unceremoniously rams the hilt of the still-sheathed katana right into Wing's gut.

"...it'll be interesting to see you try, anyway," Aya says, raising the Spock Eyebrow™.

She is easy enough to pick out - the young Futaba scion. During school hours she can be found at Seijyun, wearing the proper uniform of a blossoming woman of Japanese society. But on her free time she's always practicing and exercising and in the spirit of Kenpo that she pursues, her choice in attire is a flavor of traditional Chinese - a rich blue blouse with gold bindings and short, puffy white sleeves worn with white trousers and blue slip-on shoes. She stands out enough to be easily spotted amid the crowd.

Aside from giving her needy marten attention, her mind is on the routines she will practice once she gets to her secluded place. Recent training by one more than qualified to lend it had opened her eyes to the potential of her style, if only she could grasp the fundamentals and expand upon them. The ebb and flow of stances, the purpose and intent of every striking angle and method. Where it makes sense to stand her ground, and when it is best to run. The venerable Chao Liu, the visiting master from northern Japan, had in only a few short weeks, honed Hotaru's fighting potential far more than she had managed to figure out on her own.

Potential that comes into play when, for the first time in her life, she finds herself under attack outside of a public venue. She was used to fighting where she was /signed up/ for it. But this? She doesn't see it coming.

She turns readily upon hearing her name. A lonely girl, the the only thought that comes to mind is that the male voice is someone who has seen one of her fights. Still a rookie by any definition, it was not all together unthinkable that some had taken notice of the hopeful new fighter in spite her lackluster performance against other newcomers to the scene.

Sapphire blue eyes settle on Sudo as he steps after her, holding up a white cloth to draw her eye, suggesting that she forgot it, "Ah, no, I-" she starts to protest, certain that it doesn't belong to her and surprised at how expensively well-dressed her potential fan appears to be.

And that's when he lunges. It's instincts rather than prepared reflexes that kick in as he reaches out for her. Her own arms are occupied with Itokatsu, leaving her no ability to fend off the attempt, but it is concern for the yellow furred marten that has her brace, twisting to the side at the last moment out of fear that he would squished in the impact.

If getting her to fall was the only goal, then Sudo could chalk it up as a success, Hotaru landing hard on her side, propping her arm to avoid harming Itokatsu in the fall. But she's already twisting around, keeping her arms free of being gripped and kicking with her foot to push up and away from him, slipping free and back to standing in one smooth recovery. Whirling around to face Sudo, her expression suggests a complete state of confusion, eyes wide as she begins backstepping away from Sudo, "I'm sorry, I-"
The very idea that she would be under attack for any reason is so incompatible with her naive world view, she seems practically paralyzed into inaction. "Please, this must be some misunderstanding-"

Her marten scrambles out of her arms and up onto her shoulder then behind her neck, barring teeth and hissing back toward the suit clad man. "I don't understand." That's putting it mildly. "But I must warn you."

She can't believe she's saying this, but there is hardly any point to subtlety now is there? She lifts her hands to the ready, palms open, staring back at Sudo with a mixture of shellshock and umbrage.

"I know Kung Fu."

COMBATSYS: Hotaru takes no action.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Aya              0/-------/----===|-------\-------\0             Sudo
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////////////     ]
Hotaru           0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0             Wing

Excellent plan, Wing. Excellent.

The ploy is to start as much general mayhem as possible. The Syndicate would deny all action against Southtown citizens, because crime organizations that claim credit for attacks on citizens rarely last long.

Surely, Honoka had some grand vision in mind when she related this story to him a week ago. But Sudo's a grunt, a heavy, a nobody -- he couldn't remember the details. And Honoka is currently in no state to explain it to him -again-. All he has to do, he reminds himself, is punch someone until they bleed. A lot. And don't, under any circumstances, get caught.

Luckily, Wing seems to be accomplishing her goal. Sudo? Knocking his target down might count as partial credit. Not half. Not a third. Maybe two-hundredths.

Rising back to his feet, he steps back, responding to his diminutive combatant with a glower. And a grunt. ... And a smile; at least now he won't feel so bad knowing that she can defend herself.


Because he can hit rather hard when he sets his mind to it. Like now, as he takes two steps forward, aiming a sucker punch to the stomach, following that up by ramming his shoulder into her sternum. If she's so good at kung-fu, he thinks, then this should be easy to deal with. If not... well, scraping her across the pavement would be more partial credit.

"Bbbbbbppttttttt," is Wing's eloquent reply.

The rambunctious young woman doubles over, staggering back, her eyes bugging out almost as much as she is currently, er, bugging out. She sputters for several moments, arms windmilling perilously, before eventually righting herself, gulping down deep breaths. Her eyes have returned to their normal size, though they are watering slightly. /She's not crying./

She opens her mouth, her face a mask of rage and hate, hesitates, very slowly closes her mouth, snaps it open again, and very slowly closes it. Not only is this woman more skilled that Wing will consciously admit, her comebacks are also pretty good. This calls for a doozy. You got this, Wingnut.


Wing tries to look smug, but soon fails. Obviously irritated, she turns hopefully to see how Sudo is faring, only to see rat-girl striking an poised pose. "What the hell!?" she shouts, ending up only more pissed off. "You can't know Kung Fu! /I/ know Kung Fu!"

Wing's arms windmill again, but this time in a rather tighter and more contained fashion, her body pivoting toward Aya, eyes gleaming with overabundant violent intent. For all her crazed aggression, she's internalized a technique no less elegant than Hotaru, even if the aesthetic may be wasted on her.

"Bitch!" she appends.

/Now/ she looks smugly satisfied.

It's good enough for her to slip in again, moving more artfully this time but with the same relentless force. A palm strike is cunningly aimed between Aya's defensively placed left shoulder and her collarbone, fierce enough to potentially dislocate a limb, or at least numb it for long enough to aim two more rapid palm strikes at Aya's own midsection, perhaps as vengeance. Vengeance would not be unlikely. This time, Wing's stance remains tight and coiled, ready to spring again even as she puts all her power into the blows.

"This is what you get for messing with the Syndicate!"

Fake it till you make it, baby. It's a way of life.

COMBATSYS: Wing successfully hits Aya with Monkey Mischief.

[           \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Aya              0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0             Sudo
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Hotaru           0/-------/------=|====---\-------\0             Wing

COMBATSYS: Hotaru interrupts Strong Punch from Sudo with Tanshou Shin.

[           \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Aya              0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0             Sudo
[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Hotaru           0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0             Wing


Aya perhaps underestimates Wing, likely because as someone who knows how to fight but to date has very little experience fighting what appears to be a tightly-wound ball of psychotic delusion and fast-twitch muscle fiber, Aya doesn't have a strong frame of reference for what she's facing at the moment. Thus when she leans her torso back away from the palm strike, she doesn't go back quite far enough, leaving her rather too open to Wing's followup blow, which sends her sprawling backwards along the sidewalk... conveniently, so that she comes to a stop relatively close to Hotaru's starting position.

Rising to her feet, she glances over her shoulder at the young kenpo fighter, eyes narrowing as a feeling of... familiarity floods through her. This is a friend. Or, at the very least, this is not your enemy. Jade-green eyes flick across to Sudo, before back to Hotaru. "Not this again..." she mutters, before shaking her head and clearing her throat.

"You can fight, right?" she asks of Hotaru, taking up her sword and deliberately tying it to the belt loops of her new jeans with the sageo, the scabbard-cord. "Don't get rattled just because we're on the street," Aya adds, turning back to face Wing with a hard expression, apparently able to perceive a source of Hotaru's nervousness through body language alone. "If push comes to shove, I'll back you up."

And then there's Wing.

Aya slips into stance, an old-style battoujutsu stance where her hand hovers over the hilt of her sword, making lazy circles, body tilted slightly forward. "I don't know what the 'Syndicate' is, unless it's the name of your... band or sports team or whatever. But you are going to regret messing with me today."

With a faint cracking noise, she suddenly grips the blade of her sword and whips it forward in a flashing silver arc... one that is nowhere near Wing. Of course, she doesn't have to be; the flow of her motion is followed by jagged towers of frost that streak across the distance between the two fighters, looking to put a serious chill on the supposed Queen in a hurry.

But that's not the end of it. As soon as the first slash has been made, Aya kicks off the ground, dashing forward with incredible speed, as if she were trying to *race* her own ice attack. In fact, whorls of green wind erupt in her wake, the ice and gale combining into a whirlwind that surrounds Aya as she nears Wing, performing a drawing slash across the midline that seems to direct the tempest right at the presumptive Syndicate enforcer.

COMBATSYS: Aya blitzes into action and acts again!

[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Aya              0/-------/-======|====---\-------\0             Sudo
[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Hotaru           0/-------/-----==|====---\-------\0             Wing

Her stance prepared, the yellow furred marten wrapped around her neck beneath her twin pigtails hisses toward Sudo again, teeth bared, and then bravely circles down the Futaba girl's body to retreat into a rapid climb up the nearest drain pipe, not stopping until he can perch from a small awning one floor up. Hotaru's expression back toward the man who attacked her is quiet after her warning, his answer proving that simply claiming to know martial arts won't be enough to disuade him from attacking further.

Perhaps a demonstration was in order.

With a half step, the girl turns her right shoulder toward him, her stance tight, arms drawn in a little, feet closer together as she somehow manages to become an even smaller target than she is by default. Looking over her right shoulder toward the well dressed man, she blinks as she over hears a loud-mouthed girl's shout from nearby. She hazards only the briefest of glances toward Wing - just long enough to notice the source of the voice in question is attacking a distinguished looking young woman also seemingly out of now here.

What has gotten into people? Is this gang warfare, Southtown Village-style? Is this some kind of aggressive recruitment program from some dojo interested in convincing her to join and fight alongside the other self-proclaimed Kung Fu artist? "What do you even want?" she challenges back to Sudo. Feeling the pressure of proving she does in fact know Kung Fu to not one but two possible detractors, she tenses up, tightening her stance even further, bracing for what was to come.

She twists at the last moment, moving into him rather than away, his solid punch only grazing against her shoulder as she pivots it into his chest, her legs pressing her into a solid impact designed to force a small amount of space between them. Just enough space for the Kenpo artist to slam both of her hands out, left behind her, right hand forward, in a single but unexpectedly strong palm strike to Sudo's own sternum. "YAA!!"

She maintains the pose briefly, her entire body dedicated to the perfection of that singular strike, before finally drawing herself back into her tighter stance at the same time Aya addresses her. The vote of confidence and promise of support do wonders to Hotaru's demeanor, the girl allowing herself a fleeting smile, "Thank you... I hope this isn't my fault."

In the next instant, the swordswoman is on the offense and Hotaru twists on her feet to keep Sudo directly in her sights. "I'm pretty sure I don't have anything you want," she replies with a gentle but insistent edge to her voice.

COMBATSYS: Aya successfully hits Wing with Hyouga.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Aya              0/-------/=======|====---\-------\0             Sudo
[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Hotaru           0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0             Wing

COMBATSYS: Aya successfully hits Wing with Kamaitachi.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Aya              1/------=/=======|====---\-------\0             Sudo
[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////                ]
Hotaru           0/-------/-----==|=======\===----\1             Wing

Sudo can hear Wing shouting... things. They sound like random invectives. (But so did practically everything else coming out of the young woman's mouth.) And while Sudo had always been a man of action, he has to admit that she's definitely 'selling' the Syndicate's involvement more than his laconic non-statements can. When Hotaru redirects his attack, aborting his attempt at critical damage by inflicting some of her own, the big bruiser is knocked backwards. He offers a faint smile -- but it only lasts a moment.

And then the strike to the sternum takes its full effect, as Sudo realizes how difficult it is to take another breath.

Sudo ignores the pebbles that crams into his pant leg. He doesn't normally -wear- a suit, so the road sand doesn't bother him too much. As he rises back to his full height, he -does- reset the sunglasses into their proper position. Gotta have standards.

After tapping his earpiece, he mumbles something unintelligible, raises his dukes in a defensive stance.

Coughing lightly, he states to Hotaru, "Boss wouldn't tell me why. Just following orders." Popping his neck from side to side, he happens to notice Wing. And... and -damn-.

Gritting his teeth, he eyes two vehicles coming down the street. One truck... and an unmarked black car. He hopes that Hotaru doesn't notice the truck, writing it off as just another passing vehicle... instead of a hazard. He lunges forward -- levelling one fierce backhand to daze the young woman, before following through with and intent to slam his shoulder into her stomach.

And then he'd leap into the air with her, slamming her into the cab of the moving delivery truck, using Hotaru as the cushion with with to stop.

Regardless of what happens, the black car stops. A door flies open. And another man is calling for the two not-quite-Syndicate enforcers to get in.

"Haaaaa ha ha ha ha ha!"

It doesn't take much for Wing to be brimming with confidence again. Rather, the sadistic pleasure of blasting someone else across the street with a fearsome strike before a multitude of horrified onlookers is simply so intoxicating that she forgets her recent failures and not-so-recent insecurities. She pumps her fist mightily while undulating her narrow pelvis in what is ... probably ... some sort of victory dance.

"I killed her!!"

Well, if it were one of these passerby, quite possibly.

"Haaaa ha haaaooooly shiiiii--"

But in this case, not so much.

Wing's face takes on a look of terrible desperation as some monster icicles aim to make a pincushion out of her. She springs nimbly to the side but underestimates the sheer girth of the massive frost chi assault and, unable to redirect her momentum in midair, coughs violently as the side of one slams against her ribs, sending her spinning out of control. She's practically upside-down by the time Aya lunges in, rendering it open season on slashing Wing with whirlwind swords.

Screaming incoherently, spiralling so fast her body is a blur, Wing is blown backward into a parking meter which bends until it snaps, forcing her to continue flying back into the /next/ parking meter which is able to absorb the rest of her momentum. Lying dazed in the metal Wing hammock that has been made, the aspiring gangster gazes cross-eyed up at the sky.

Ah, it's a peaceful day.

"Fuck that!!!"

Becoming cognizant of tranquility in her vicinity promptly infuriates Wing sufficiently for her to rally, sending her leaping to her feet, almost sprawling, and righting herself. Her Sean John hoodie is somewhat tattered and her gaze won't quite focus properly, but there's something in the overpowering tension in every sinew of her muscles that suggests her true fury has yet to be unleashed.


Better get on that.

The pavement explodes under Wing's feet as she sails toward the swordswoman, seeing nothing but red and her enemy, feeling nothing but the yearning for revenge coursing through her. Someone has defied her being. Well, everything and everyone defies her being all the time, but this person, /specifically/, is defying her super hard right now, and so she gets first dibs on mad Wing punishment.


And it is mad. When Wing slides in, her first strike is, for all her fury, a very precise phoenix-knuckle strike at Aya's inner thigh, incredible power focused there so as to cripple her stance for the next few seconds. That is all the time she will need, as it seems to slow in her vicinity for the remainder. Both hands become a blur, an outrageous flurry of palm strikes and jabs at fancy-pants's midriff and head, aiming in particular for stunning blows to her jaw and under her chin so as to perpetuate this insane combo. And when all is said and done, with a final indignant cry, Wing will drive a double-palm blow toward Aya's body in an attempt to blast her through the front window of the fancy-pants Target and into the clearance rack in front.


May she emerge with another new wardrobe.

COMBATSYS: Aya parries Wing's Wing Dynasty!

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Aya              1/-----==/=======|-------\-------\0             Sudo
[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
Hotaru           0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0             Wing

COMBATSYS: Sudo knocks away Hotaru with Big Top Bash EX.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Aya              1/-----==/=======|-------\-------\0             Sudo
[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////                  ]
Hotaru           1/------=/=======|-------\-------\0             Wing

"How old are you, exactly?"

This question may be annoying to Wing for a number of reasons:
1.) It implies she is merely a child
2.) The voice comes from BEHIND her

3.) The voice belongs to Aya Hazuki

The speed with which the swordmistress moves is *unreal*; the target that Wing likely thought she hit was, in fact, an afterimage, an illusory clone that even as we speak is dissolving into barely-perceptible motes of light. The woman's actual MOVEMENT that put her behind her opponent was barely visible at all for how swift it was, and Aya is literally RIGHT BEHIND WING.

"I'm guessing, fourteen, tops," Aya says in a dry tone.

Then she pivots and attempts a point-blank, ground zero, high angle kick intended to knock Wing straight into the air. If she manages to do that, she frowns, and then... disappears?

When Aya *reappears* it is in midair, ABOVE Wing, aiming an aerial overhead roundhouse to kick her right back onto the ground so hard she BOUNCES, before vanishing AGAIN, then reappearing on the ground and, with a deliberate and forceful spin, aims a circular kick to quite frankly knock Wing right out of the park. Specifically, into a nearby car full of Syndicate enforcers.

That's coincidence, right?

It must be.

Sudo's explanation is just as mystifying as anything else that has happened to Hotaru this day. Sliding one foot forward and lowering her arms slightly, she bounces lightly on her feet, trying her best to stay focused. She had never really considered her pursuit of her art a matter of self-defense. It was a sport, a passion to be certain, but a sport nonetheless. That she would ever have to lift her hands to ward off an unprovoked attack was just simply not something that had ever crossed the young fighter's mind.

From behind his shades, Sudo's evaluation of the incoming options goes entirely unnoticed by the Kenpo artist. She believes herself ready. Out of the corner of her eye, she's seen enough to determine that the swordswoman is more than handling the loud girl attacking her. Does /she/ have any better idea what this is about? That she seems to have a handle on her own attacker, at least, is some solace. She isn't in this dust up alone.

She heard words like Syndicate being thrown around. How would she even matter to any kind of group like that?

So distracted by trying to understand the WHYS of what is going on her, she misses out on the WHAT as Sudo closes distance again. Anticipating another tackle, she waits too long, sidestepping a hypothetical lunge into a crushing back hand that sends the featherweight whirling to the side, looking like she'll be knocked clean off her feet just from that alone. The shoulder slam that follows more than finishes the job, the Kenpo artist flailing as she topples, a pained gasp escaping her lips, only to be hefted with ease.

The driver of the truck must be as confused as she is at the loud thunk against the side of his cab, the pig-tailed target releasing the last of her breath as she gets smashed into a dent against the metal before falling to her knees against the pavement.

Left hand going to her chest, her right hand planting against the ground, she is beyond dazed at the combination assault. Trying to convince her lungs to cooperate, the fighter persists in trying to, well, fight back. If words won't stop this unexplained attack, the best she can hope for is further show of force.

On her feet, she stumbles forward one step away from the side of the truck, right arm snapping back behind her back, a surge of azure chi coursing along the limb. A stomp with her left foot leads into her pivoting her whole body into swinging the brilliant surge of blue, slinging a churning ball of concussive force toward Sudo's chest.

"Leave me alone!!"

The energy attack would not burn, striking more like a purely kinetic impact, a fierce kick to the stomach should he not escape her retaliation.

Of course, if he does, the windshield of the car that just pulled up might not fare so well either. Oops.

COMBATSYS: Wing fails to interrupt Amakaze EX from Aya with Aggressive Strike.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Aya              0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0             Sudo
[                \\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////                        ]
Hotaru           1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0             Wing

COMBATSYS: Wing has reached second wind!

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Aya              0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0             Sudo
[                \\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////                        ]
Hotaru           1/-------/=======|===----\-------\0             Wing

COMBATSYS: Hotaru successfully hits Sudo with Hakki Shou.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////            ]
Aya              0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0             Sudo
[                \\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////                        ]
Hotaru           1/-----==/=======|===----\-------\0             Wing

If the boss lady were here, she'd probably have something snarky to say. Well, if the boss lady were here and not suffering from the effects of a chance run-in with a fearsome soul-devouring predator, anyway. Sudo? He has the wit of a two-by-four.

He springs back from the young woman, having succeeded (somehow) in his attempt to drive her into the cab of a passing truck. (The sudden loud screech of brakes also succeeded in scaring the bejeezus out of some lady walking her dog down the street, who is now running after the frightened canine) But the ride's here. "C'mon, let's GO!" he calls out to Wing... frowning. She's not even listening, is she? Well, if she doesn't hop in the car, she fails the intelligence test, Sudo gathers, his shoulders starting to turn back to the getaway car...

Only to have that move interpreted as an attack. Leave me alone? He was totally -going- to leave Hotaru alone, until she kicked him in the stomach when he wasn't quite paying attention. His trip to the car is hastened by the kick to the stomach, which gives him additional lift as he flies not only -to- the car, but over it. Tumbling head over heels, he manages to get his foot caught between the open door and its doorjamb, jerking him downwards and twisting his ankle at an awkward angle -- even earning an honest yelp of pain from the laconic bruiser. That'll learn him!

It's not long before one of his compatriots jumps out of the car and helps Sudo into it. Like Sudo -- both occupants of the car are wearing a black suit and a headset. And now the car has a lovely Sudo-shaped dent, and a sweet spiderweb pattern on the side window. And they didn't even need to go inside the Target for that.

Once the wincing Sudo is back inside, the car would squeal tires. And if Wing makes a motion towards the vehicle... MAYBE it will stop. MAYBE.

And then it'd take off like a good getaway car should.

COMBATSYS: Sudo takes no action.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////           ]
Aya              0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0             Sudo
[                \\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////                        ]
Hotaru           1/-----==/=======|===----\-------\0             Wing

Take that, clone!!


There is a problem with Wing. You may not have been able to tell. But Wing has a problem, and that is that she cannot stop. Right away some part of her becomes aware that she has not made physical contact with any person or thing the very moment her first palm strike passes through what is now the ethereal outline of Aya's thigh. But Wing is extremely angry, and Aya is /right there/, though technically--

"What the f--"

Not there at all.

Wing is turning to head to look over her shoulder in outrage at Aya, while continuing relentlessly to attack the not-Aya in front of her, up until the moment that the swordswoman's pop-up kick blasts the petite rabblerouser off her feet and into the sky.


Her cry is a seamless hybrid of pain and fury. She tucks into a flip, which may or may not actually be the fetal position, and her momentum increases. When she finds herself looking /up/ at Aya somehow, despite having been sky into the sky, Wing does not hesitate, and thrusts out her forehead by explosively uncurling.

"You're gonna dururgghh--"

The back of her head promptly makes contact with the heel of Aya's kicking foot, knocking Wing senseless long enough for her to be booted almost directly into the back of a nearby and conveniently awaiting black van, stunning the man who was beckoning in the miscreants' general direction moments before. Another not-quite-Syndicate enforcer stares down at where Wing lies limp and still.


And promptly has to restrain her with all his might as she lurches to a sitting position like a corpse given life, doing everything he can to prevent her from crawling out the trunk back toward Aya as she screams obscenities. Someone is shouting to hit the gas already.


Is that ... is that a nickname?

COMBATSYS: Wing takes no action.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////           ]
Aya              0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0             Sudo
[                \\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////                        ]
Hotaru           1/-----==/=======|===----\-------\0             Wing

COMBATSYS: Wing has left the fight here.

COMBATSYS: Sudo has left the fight here.

There's a long, tense moment as Aya unties her sword from her belt and holds it in her hand, enjoying the reassuring weight of knowing her weapon is at her side. Her green-eyed gaze tracks the car as it drives off with both Wing and Sudo either in or on it (which isn't clear). If life were psychotropic to the tune of dramatic necessity, some cherry blossoms would drift by. Sadly, all you get is the confused stares of shoppers and passersby. They seem... well. 'Confused' is a good start.

"She really CAN'T have been older than sixteen," says Aya, still watching the car drive off. "And did she just... call me... cat food?"

Clearing her throat, she remembers that another person was involved in all this, and she turns to find Hotaru, who appears to have done a bang up job defending herself from... whoever the other guy was. The Hazuki heiress makes her way over to the younger fighter and, if necessary, offers a hand up. "Nicely done. Do you have any idea what this is about? Or what a 'Syndicate' is, for that matter?"

She turns toward where the retreating car is now barely visible even as distant red tail lights, and furrows her brow. "A rival cat food manufacturer, maybe?"

Hotaru stumbles forward after her attack, the vigor poured into that singular hurtling projectile a lot stronger than she normally mustered - a feat that takes a toll after getting hit as hard as she did. She's still seeing stars from the impact against the truck, still somewhat disoriented by everything that just went down. Her lungs cooperate with the vague idea of breathing again as she catches herself, sucking in a breath and rising up, arms back to the ready to defend herself.

It only registers then that she no longer needs to. Her laconic attacker and the loudmouth are being carted off in the car that was clearly a part of whatever insane machinations she just stumbled into unwittingly. Panting for breath, she stands up straighter, relaxing her guard at last. Itokatsu is back in a flash, zipping up the girl until he's nestled once again her arms as if the entire scuffle didn't even happen.

A glance up at Aya has the younger girl smiling as she continues to recover her breath and try to stave off the shaking in her arms. "Thank you-" she replies, only to fall quiet as she's asked if she had any idea what that was about. She was really hoping the swordswoman could give her any clue as to what was going on... the thought that she's in the dark just as much is not exactly the welcome information she was hoping for.

"Well..." she replies, hand rubbing the sleek body of her marten who is presently studying Aya with an intense interest. "I don't think cat food has anything to do with this. Maybe some kind of misdirected protest against the store?" she offers no-less-hepfully. Why she would have been singled out though...

Already, sirens are heard as the Southtown police are enroute. The pig-tailed fighter glances over her shoulder in the direction of the clarion sound. "I imagine... We will have to make a statement." It looks like word of this random Syndicate violence will get out one way or another.

Curious eyes glance over the sword Aya grips now, the girl's mouth curling into a soft smile, "I was not able to see everything, but what of it I saw... well... your sword work was beautiful. I'm glad you were here."

Despite herself, Aya smiles at that comment from Hotaru. "It's nice of you to say so. You have excellent form yourself, given your age," she says to the younger fighter, tilting her head somewhat and taking in Hotaru's posture and bearing. There's no hiding the anxiety that Hotaru must have felt, but it's clear that she's working through it, not letting it stop her. An admirable trait, in Aya's eyes, since that was something Aya herself needed to master at a young age. When you've got a live, untipped blade in your hand for practice by age 13, 'get over it' is at the top of your to-do list.

She sighs and shakes her head, following the line of Hotaru's gaze to the approaching policemen. Even in a world where street fighting is a popular sport, there's always going to be SOMEONE taking notice when a brawl erupts on the streets... especially if two of the parties involved didn't seem like they were terribly interested in taking part. "I can sympathize with the sentiment, if they're protesting the store. I've got, well..." She pauses, looking back at the Target's steel-and-glass storefront, extending up all three floors of the building.

For a second, something overlays her vision: a shorter building, wider, like a gym. A much-abused door from the many times it had been kicked in, broken, blown off its hinges, or straight-up disintegrated. And, again, that warm feeling of... home.

There's a moment where Aya brings a hand up to her forehead, taking a hissing breath through her teeth, and then shakes it off before looking back at Hotaru. "This will probably sound strange, but have we met? You seem familiar."

The comment regarding protesting the store elicits a short, soft giggle from the younger girl. She seems to bear no opinion about the store itself as aside from complicating her daily walks a little, it seems harmless enough to her - too young to have any sense of tradition or history for the neighborhood itself. But it is the sudden wince. Maybe it's a headache. A probable side effect of having to put up with that loudmouth for more than a minute!! Or maybe she really got hit harder than she realized and is just now feeling the repercussions?

She's just about to open her mouth and inquire when Aya speaks up, asking a question that causes Hotaru to clam back up. The question clearly catches her surprise, the girl recoiling a little, cheeks blushing slightly. "I-" She looks the woman over again more carefully, from head to toe, her brush with embarassment fading into a quiet smile and a slight shake of her head. "No..." She cannot deny the comfort she feels in her presence, but she would definitely remember meeting a woman this distinguished in swordsmanship. "I'm sorry. I don't believe we have."

She sucks in her breath, bowing her head slightly, "Forgive my lapse in manners. My name is Hotaru Futaba. And this fellow..." she ruffles the marten's head, provoking a soft chirp of appeasement from the startled critter.

"That's alright," Aya says, with a reassuring smile. That, at least, is genuine; she's so used to being the one to tell someone else she doesn't remember them, at this point, that finally being the one to ask the 'don't I know you?' question is a good change of pace in and of itself. "Don't worry about it. I'm sorry to add one more strange thing to what is probably already turning out to be a pretty strange day." She reaches out to run her finger across the top of Itokatsu's head, provided it doesn't flip out and bite her or anything equally uncute.

"Ah, yes. Where are *my* manners, come to that? My name is Aya Hazuki," the auburn-haired woman says, placing a hand at her stomach and sketching the faintest of gretting bows... the obvious vestige of a traditional Japanese upbringing she has yet to fully leave behind her, even in situations like this where a simple handshake would be enough. "Typically of Kyoto, but recently of Southtown. I'll just say that life here compared to back home is... well. Certainly, it's never dull."

There's a brief pause, and Aya walks over to her abandoned bag of clothing, picking it back up and sliding the sheathed katana into it as she walks back toward Hotaru. "While it's not unusual for me to run into folks I think I know, lately, I have to wonder if I've seen you on TV, perhaps? Are you a professional fighter? If not, you should think it over. You've clearly got excellent instincts and you held up well under pressure. Those are valuable skills."

The apology is answered with a quick shake of her head, "No... it is quite all right." The marten in Hotaru's arms seems welcome to Aya's touch, pressing his furred head up against her finger as she reaches out to touch him, a pleased stretch of his body in response to the affection.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Hazuki," comes the girl's reply before looking backup to follow her retrieval of the bag. "I hope you haven't had too many troubles here." she comments thoughtfully. This was certainly a first for her, even as a Southtown resident! Now schoolyard brawls, well, that's something else all together. "It is usually a nice city. I think. I... mean, I guess I live around here. I don't really know a whole lot about the rest of it... How does it compare to Kyoto?"

But at the question posed, Hotaru blushes sheepishly again, turning to the side as she rests her hand at the back of her neck, "Ah... well, yes, maybe you have. I just started participating in the rookie brackets six months ago." She looks back toward Aya, beaming at the compliment but also feeling awkward bringing up her fledgling fighting career. "I have made it into a couple of the Professional Fighters Worldwide events... and some Neo League bouts..." She pulls her arm away from Itokatsu, craddling him in her left, in order to lift her fist with determination, "I hope to qualify to participate in the Circuit of Champions someday. Maybe then my brother will-" she stops short, realizing that in her excitement she had gone on a bit too far.

Sheepishness settles in once again as she rocks on her heels, "Ah, anyway, yes, maybe you saw one of my matches... I have been getting better." she states after a moment, sounding maybe even slightly defensive. Her track record in public appearances is 'rough' to say the least. But after Master Liu's guidance? Maybe there's hope for her yet.

There is a wry element to the expression that Aya gives Hotaru, after that answer, the slight upward tilting of her head as she answers hearkening back to the woman that talked with Alma Towazu on this very spot not so long ago... the aquiline pride of a traditional 'Japanese beauty,' one raised in a very specific style. "Kyoto is very pleasant. Very traditional. Lots of history, culture." There's a pregnant pause. "It's extremely boring." Well, that settles that.

Hotaru describes her professional fighting career so far, and Aya listens intently. Her undisguised curiosity may seem strange, until she speaks up after Hotaru finishes her own tale. "Good for you. It's possible I have seen a match of yours and distantly remembered. Frankly, while I've been training for most of my life, I am new to professional fighting, myself. It's, ah..."

'I've been living most of my life alone since the death of my parents in a gigantic house with nothing but servants and free time but suddenly I started having weird dreams and found I could control chi with ease and so I entered this insane world to find out more about all of this mysterious nonsense, up to and including this unsettling sense of familiarity I get from you, a perfect strange, in this place, where I've only been once before.'

"...a culture shock," Aya finishes abruptly.

Soon, the police have arrived and have been speaking to the people on the street who watched the bout, so it doesn't take long before the boys in blue are heading over to the two women, since... let's say they made an impression. "I imagine we'll have to catch up some other time, Futaba-san. But, can you answer one last question for me?"

Putting a hand to her chin thoughtfully, Aya gives Hotaru a once over. "Pardon if this offends, but you can't be much older than school age. Is this... a common thing among your classmates? Fighting, I mean."

Lifting her left arm, Hotaru shuffles Itokatsu up onto her shoulder where the marten curls beneath her pigtails around the back of her neck once again, forming a fuzzy collar of sorts. "Ah... it sounds like a wonderful place to visit," Hotaru offers regarding Kyoto. Maybe not so great to grow up in then, if one is more interested in excitement perhaps.

"Oh?" comes the question when Aya mentions only just starting in crazy world she has become a part of. Given her skill with a sword, she came across as someone who would have been more than qualified to do so years ago! "Yeah." she replies knowingly about the cultural shock side of things. Hotaru has been... exposed to some interesting personalities, to say the least.

At the request for one more question, the pig-tailed girl glances up with a quick, ready nod only to pause at the actual question itself. "Hm... Well," she considers for a moment, "I attend Seijyun High, myself. Generally... fighting is not encouraged and most of the girls there are not interested in it. But there are some..." The legends of a certain Himezaki come to mind for a moment.

"But if you look into the rookie and even pro leagues in the area, you will find many students from the other High Schools. Taiyo... Gedo... Gorin all have a good showing. There is even a few students at Justice High that are competing in the world brackets." It is clear that the girl is a fan of fighting, not just of her own art or practice, but of the entire phenomenon. Or at least has kept abreast of all the news of the sport. It is inherent when keeping an eye out for a certain someone...

"So, yes, there is a lot of students that participate in the city. I guess I pay a lot of attention to it... I had been preparing myself to participate for six years," she admits, lifting her hand to pet the marten around her neck, continously looking just a touch sheepish. She doesn't actually have anyone to talk to with about fighting!

"Is that... so," Aya murmurs thoughtfully at Hotaru's suggestion. A tiny voice in her head also says: six years, girl, good god, but at least she doesn't vocalize THAT. "How interesting. Now that you mention it, there was that... rather Amazonian girl from the sports school I met on that one television program." Let's face it: Natsu Ayuhara's stature is what you're going to remember about Xena, Volleyball Princess. "Hm."

It's at this moment that a patrolman walks over and starts giving Aya the hairy eyeball, nodding his head vigorously over in the direction of the storefront. He's got to interview this slightly intimidating woman and he'd rather do it out of the cold. "In any event, as I said, a pleasure. Hopefully we'll have a chance to meet again."

And with that, she's off to give what is probably going to be southtown PD's most interesting witness statement in many months, for sure.


[OOC] Aya says, "sudo stop attacking hotaru"
[OOC] Hotaru hahas.
[OOC] Aya wins with a single line
[OOC] Sudo says, "Sh-shit. My one weakness."


[OOC] Aya is torn
[OOC] Aya says, "i really want to parry this"
[OOC] Aya says, "but I am almost certainly going home in tiny bits if it hits"
[OOC] Aya says, "and while that would be dramatic _i really want wing to be disappointed_"
[OOC] Hotaru disbelieves in Wing's Kung Fu. r_r
[OOC] Aya says, "otherwise"
[OOC] Honoka disbelieves in it too
[OOC] Aya says, "where is the rivalry going to come from"
[OOC] Aya says, "this dilemma is most distressing"
[OOC] Honoka says, "Wait, hold up"
[OOC] Honoka says, "you... you think wing won't -start- the rivalry from this?"
[OOC] Hotaru laughs.
[OOC] Aya just wants to be sure
[OOC] Honoka haha

COMBATSYS: Aya parries Wing's Wing Dynasty!

[OOC] Aya says, "HA"
[OOC] Hotaru C_C
[OOC] Honoka DIES
[OOC] Wing Xiaoping says, "......."
[OOC] Honoka clap. clap. clap.
[OOC] Hotaru says, "Hahaha."
[OOC] Aya laughs so hard she see stars RL
[OOC] Wing Xiaoping speechless
[OOC] Honoka says, "this is going in the liner notes"
[OOC] Aya says, "ow"
[OOC] Aya says, "oh my god i really did just put a stitch in my side laughing"
[OOC] Aya says, "wing man i am sorry"
[OOC] Aya says, "only a little bit"
[OOC] Aya says, "but i am"
[OOC] Hotaru laughs, "Incredible."
[OOC] Wing Xiaoping says, "This is wonderful"
[OOC] Wing Xiaoping says, "Wing is going to be so mad"
[OOC] Wing Xiaoping says, "She will somehow get even madder"

Log created on 23:10:33 02/06/2015 by Honoka, and last modified on 11:07:40 02/07/2015.