Description: Alexis takes her first uneasy steps into the corporate world in an attempt to establish a recording contract with the Robot Buddha record label. However, a third party who's much more experienced in the business world is there to show the young punk just how vicious it can be...
Toronto! It's like New York City, but colder and with one third of the people. Perhaps the most famous aspect of Toronto, both nationally and internationally, is the city's skyline; in particular for the distinctive outline of the CN Tower, which stands at nearly half a kilometer in height and can be seen for miles around.
Alexis is not in the CN Tower, but the structure dominates the view from the full-story windows of the skyscraper restaurant that she's currently feeling extremely out of place in. She's dressed in an unusually conservative and decidedly punk-deficient manner, wearing a regulation-length black business skirt and suit combo over a white blouse, all properly buttoned, with heeled black dress shoes and subtle hosiery. The only evidence of the young woman's typical style are the skull-and-crossbone earrings dangling from her ears and the bangs that won't seem to stay out of her right eye.
Seated at Alexis' table are the reasons for her visible discomfort: three men, all wearing grey suits; two across the table and one to her left. The one on her left, a man in his early thirties with glasses and a prematurely receding hairline, is looking over a stack of papers and discussing their contents with the men across the table, one of whom is a heavyset man in his fifties with a grey beard and a large gold chain around his neck, while the other has slicked-back black hair with grey streaks in it. A similar stack of papers are in Alexis' hands as she stares blankly at them, listlessly following through the pages.
"Now, my client had some concerns with Section 17, as the wording here appears that it would limit her ability to participate in the professional fighting circuit," the man with the glasses says, pointing at the section in question with the blunt end of his pen.
"That would be correct," the man with the beard replies. "Basically, the terms would be that Miss Lovell would only be allowed to participate in events sanctioned by Robot Buddha. It's an insurance matter, mainly: after all, we wouldn't want a rising star's career to be ended through... unexpected injury."
"And would that point be negotiable?" the man in the glasses asks in an even tone as he looks back at the paper.
The other two men look at each other with reticent expressions.
"I'll tell you what. We could arrange for some sort of - what do you call it? Fight choreography? For instance, we pick an opponent, like, say, Lightning Spangles - or a lookalike - then pre-determine an outcome. That way we make sure no one gets hurt, and Miss Lovell gets her fight. We could even book her to win more that way. What do you say, Alexis?" The gray-bearded executive looks toward the young brunette.
"Need a piss," Alexis mutters under her breath.
"I need the washroom," Alexis says, putting on a tight smile. "Give me a couple of minutes, eh?"
Pushing herself up, the young musician starts making her way across the restaurant floor, walking a bit awkwardly in the pencil skirt and shoes she's wearing. She breathes in deep before sighing heavily. Her lack of poise threatens to cause her to stumble into another patron sooner or later....
Surprisingly, when the inevitable impact comes it is not an accident due to the awkward and unsteady gait of the girl clearly uncomfortable in her formal attire, but rather the result of a deliberate intervention into her path by a woman who is everything but.
It is not in the typical nature for Vice to eavesdrop upon the conversation of others. The daily activities and lamentations of the common worm that typically believes itself to be human are beneath her notice, the buzzing of a pestilent swarm of gnats that seem to be present no matter where she finds herself. Even here, among the so called 'high class' of society, she finds herself surrounded by all manner of repugnant creatures. Infact, she might even hate these individuals more than the typical variety of insect, full of their arrogance and greed. These were the people responsible for the big decisions that made the world turn. They bandy about contracts and deals, casually bartering with the fate of lives of people they would never meet nor care anything about. The world is just numbers to them. It made her ill to be near them.
Unfortunately, her role as the secretary of a powerful man such as Rugal forced her to interact with these filthy vermin on occasion. She has appearances to keep up and that means doing her job, no matter how disgusting it might be.
The half-eaten remains of two dinners lie scattered about a pair of plates at the small table she occupies, her 'guest' having departed some handful of minutes earlier at the conclusion of their business. Normally, Vice would have vacated hot on their heels, but for some reason the conversation going on at a nearby table had gripped her interest. She sats back and listened to the boring technical jargon of legalese being tossed about, swirling the last bit of wine around in a fancy crystal glass.
When the young girl who is clearly out of her element makes a weak attempt to excuse herself from the vile proceedings, Vice is not far behind her. She closes the distance between them with ease, overtaking the shaky steps of her target with long graceful strides. When Alexis reaches the small hallway that turns off towards the fancy restroom facilities, her shadow rounds the corner with a sharp pivot casually hip-checking the girl into the wall, out of sight of the main room.
Vice moves in without missing a beat, slamming the flat of her palm against the wall next to the punk star's head as she leans in. It's a classic bully tactic, her arm and body creating a barrier through which there is no easy escape. Generally, one does not see it put into action by an adult woman in an expensive business suit, however. The force behind the blow is not enough to cause harm but it very clearly illustrates the strength and speed of the one behind it.
The woman closes her eyes as she inhales deeply, drawing her face from one side of Alexis' head to the other, keeping their skin from touching by only a couple of inches as she takes in her scent. The gesture is slow and suggestive, the red-haired stranger's movements like that of a playful cat making itself familiar with a new friend.
"I thought I recognized a familiar scent."
Her eyes slide open revealing bright crimson pupils that settle upon the girl's own eyes, striking and bold in their gaze. She smiles slightly, the corner of one lip quirking upwards in amusement and the gesture is mirrored by her eyes. Despite her rather abrupt intrusion, the woman seems rather friendly. Perhaps a little creepily so.
"You smell like someone who isn't content to grow fat off the table scraps thrown at your feet. Someone who needs something more than the hollow offerings of overweight men in suits. You have the scent," She leans in again and sniffs, her nostrils giving a tiny flare of motion. "...of a fighter."
Alexis stumbles against the wall of the hallway, proving easy prey as the the tense rigidity of her posture is disrupted by the invasion of her personal space. The typical Canadian response to such an event, one would often be led to believe, would be to apologize - and for a moment, Alexis even considers doing so, her mouth opening on reflex as her palms hit the wall to catch her fall. She isn't exactly herself at the moment; politeness is supposed to be a part of the image she's fronting. Before she can speak, though, Vice's hand slams into the wall beside her head. Instantly, a glare crosses Alexis' face - an expression worn much more comfortably than the one before.
"Hey! What the fuck, eh?"
The Canadian's right hand curls into a fist reflexively as she pushes herself up against the wall with her elbows, trying to straighten her shoes underneath her. Vice still looms over her even as she props herself up, though, and as the older woman leans in, Alexis presses back against the wall. The hostility in her eyes shifts to uncertainty.
Fortunately, Alexis' given reason for leaving the table had been more excuse than a matter of urgency. She grits her teeth as her aqua-coloured eyes meet Vice's red ones.
"Are you high, or something? You're in my space."
A very faint hum that carries beneath the sound of glasses and silverware and easy listening music begins to emanate from the brunette's clenched fist. No other attempt to escalate or escape the encounter is made just yet, though.
The quick shift into attitude as the girl finds herself pinned does not escape the close scrutiny of her captor. Vice's smirk widens a little as she watches her prey's mind jump into fight or flight mode at the unexpected assault, the latent instincts that determine predator from prey warring in her expression as she attempts to grasp the situation that has been thrust upon her. Her initial reaction is one of aggression and hostility, just as Vice had been hoping, the bunched up fist hovering down at the uncertain teen's waist hinting at the promise of violence should she so chose.
But there is yet hesitation there. A reluctance to unleash her outrage upon the perpetrator of such a bold and unwanted invasion into her life. Had their roles been reversed, Vice would have not even given an instant of thought to the action of removing such a pest. The girl clings to her pretenses of social etiquette believing them to be beneficial. She must be disabused of this notion.
The fiery-haired woman lifts her eyebrows slightly in a gesture of curiosity but makes no move to comply with the unspoken demand to withdraw. She peers at Alexis through half-lidded eyes like a lazy cat, her voice sultry and teasing.
"And what exactly makes it yours? Can you do something to convince me that I should believe it belongs to you?"
Alexis' eyes narrow as it becomes clear that the red-haired woman has no intention of backing off. A number of thoughts pass quickly through the young woman's head as she considers a course of action. Her hand remains clenched, the humming growing louder.
First: she has no idea who the woman is, but she looks like she can probably afford a good lawyer and she seems pretty strong.
Second: starting a fight in a place like this would probably result in somebody getting arrested.
Third: starting a fight right /now/ would almost definitely torpedo any chance of finalizing a record deal with the suits from Robot Buddha in the next room.
"Fine," Alexis says simply. Then, without any compelling reason not to immediately coming to mind, Alexis takes in a deep breath through her nostrils and lifts her chin up, pushing up on her heels, then snaps her head abruptly forward, trying to drive her forehead into Vice's face, the strike accompanied by a sound like a tom drum should it connect.
COMBATSYS: Alexis has started a fight here.
COMBATSYS: Vice has joined the fight here.
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Vice 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Alexis
COMBATSYS: Vice blocks Alexis' Aggressive Strike.
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Vice 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Alexis
Vice's grin shifts into something positively devilish as the single word escapes into the air, sliding from the girl's lips like a blade being drawn from its sheathe. She knows all too well the language of battle and the subtle movements of a body preparing to unleash its strength upon a foe. It is a dance with which she is intimately familiar and the steps come to her as naturally as if they had been choreographed and practiced a thousand times.
As Alexis' head snaps upwards, the punk star attempting to use her own skull as a battering ram, Vice makes a movement in mirror image to her own. Her face slants forward and she catches the blow square on her forehead, arresting its forward momentum before it can build up to a dangerous speed. The tingle of some unseen energy behind the blow radiates through her skin as it connects, but whatever power the girl commands is of little consequence to the god-granted strength flowing through her veins.
"That's more like it. Why waste time with words when action is called for?!"
The mask of suggestive grace cracks and shatters in an instant as Vice's voice takes on a new pitch. Her eyes grow wide, some quiet madness gripping her from within as the pupils dilate down into predatory dots. The smile splits her face as she pulls her lips back to reveal pristine shimmering teeth and a throaty chuckle escapes from between them. She takes a step back, but not to release the girl, instead using the space created to draw her fist back and slam it forward in a powerful haymaker at Alexis' chest.
"Show me what you can do, worm! Wriggle with all your might!"
COMBATSYS: Vice knocks away Alexis with Medium Punch.
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Vice 0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0 Alexis
Alexis winces as her headbutt is mirrored and matched, leaving her momentarily dazed and without the extra room to maneuver that she had been hoping to establish for herself with the attack. There's something clearly wrong here - or perhaps something too right; Alexis has always thought of the corporate elite as predatory monsters, even describing them as such frequently in her songwriting, but the red-haired woman seems to be personifying that in a far too literal way. It sends a shiver through the Canadian's spine in spite of her choler.
Alexis' hands come up to try and catch the fist as it flies toward her chest, but Vice's fist smashes right through and collides full on with her torso with devastating force.
A split second later, the wall of the restaurant explodes on the other side in a shower of drywall and dust as the business-friendly punk smashes through, her body crashing back-first across several dessert plates and drink glasses and causing the group of suits and dresses in the midst of polishing them off to jump with a start. Her momentum carries Alexis (along with most of the dishes) off of the table and down to the floor. She lands with a thump, legs in the air and clothes soaked in alcohol.
That was a first, she thinks, but at least the resulting position combined with the pounding in her head are familiar.
"Fuck," Alexis seethes as she pushes herself up onto the seat of her skirt. She kicks her heels off - they can only get in the way at this point - and shoves herself up to her feet, drywall dust spilling off her shoulders as she does. "That's it. I'm gonna kick your ass!"
The bespectacled lawyer at the table Alexis was at before maintains a dumbfounded expression as the record label representatives turn questioning looks from Alexis to him.
Grabbing the nearest thing on hand - in this case, a metal dining chair - Alexis whirls around, sending business people in the area ducking for cover before she hurls it toward the gap in the wall and the redhead on the other side of it.
COMBATSYS: Vice fails to interrupt Large Thrown Object from Alexis with Gore Fest EX.
- Power fail! -
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Vice 0/-------/-----==|=====--\-------\0 Alexis
Honestly, Vice had not intended to put the girl through the wall. Maybe smash her against it or put a small dent. It would seem that she still has yet to gain a full measure of her own strength. That or the walls in here are cheap garbage. Either way, the resistance that her punch meets is quickly removed as Alexis and a good chunk of the wall behind her explode like a cannon ball into the dining room proper.
Eyebrows raising slightly at the unintended result, the suited woman hesistates for a few moments before shrugging and ducking into the hole after the girl. She'd just been planning to toy with her a bit, a bit of sport to take her mind away from the soul-grinding chore of official business. This has escalated things a little more than she wanted but it's too late to cry over spilled milk.
Vice wriggles through the small opening with little difficulty, her body twisting like a snake to avoid the jutting bits of broken wood. She likes this suit, it would be annoying if it got ripped. Her eyes search around, questing for the form of her prey. It isn't difficult to find her admist the trail of shattered dishes and overturned drinks.
"You're welcome to try, little girl!"
Vice lowers her body, muscles coiling up for a rapid lunge. She gets halfway into the first step when the chair flies across the room like a frisbee. Far too late to abort, she can only snarl as it smashes into her chest causing her stagger backwards a few steps.
By now, most eyes in the restaurant are on the two women who just came through the wall from the bathroom hall. Phones come out quickly, but, given the demographic of the people present, it's hard to judge whether they're calling police, calling security, taking pictures, making tweets, or calling coworkers in the legal and insurance industries. There's probably a good mix of all of the above going on.
One of the waiters approaches Alexis from behind. "Excuse me, ma'am -"
"Fuck off!" Alexis' reply thunders through the restaurant, fuelled by her command of sonic energy combined with the frustration of the day boiling over. Ignoring the hazards of glass and liquor on the floor beneath her, the punk rocker lunges toward Vice. She throws her body into the air sideways, able to maneuver herself into a crossbody in spite of the restricting garments she's wearing. Her body hums with the promise of more unleashed sonic energy as she flies at Vice; should she collide, she would try to wrap herself around the redhead until she could hook an arm over the back of Vice's head and drop backward, aiming to drive her headfirst into the nearest furniture or, failing that, the floor.
COMBATSYS: Vice endures Alexis' Stage Dive.
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Vice 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Alexis
Vice is quick to recover her composure. She kicks the chair aside with a dismissive frown, sending it spiraling away to crash into another table, showering the dumbfounded occupants with the remains of their dinner. The smug smile returns to her face a moment later as she smoothes down the front of her suit, unconcerned with how quickly her chosen target for the evening has gear shifted into angry bitch mode. The littlest dogs always bark the loudest.
The flying tackle earns only a subtle response from the fiery-haired attacker. She leans into the oncoming bulk of Alexis' body, catching the brunt of the assault with her shoulder as the two of them fall towards the ground. The side of her head clips a table in the process but the attempt to face-slam her into the dirt is quickly diverted to her own ends.
Rolling over on top of Alexis, Vice makes a grab at the young girl's body, attempting to dig her powerful fingers around her arms. Whatever she's planning, it probably doesn't involve hugs.
COMBATSYS: Alexis endures Vice's Blackend but gets knocked away!
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Vice 0/-------/-======|=======\=======\1 Alexis
In such close quarters, Vice's speed and strength are simply too much for any hope of escape. She grips onto the girl's arms tightly, leaning down to bring her face close to Alexis' once more. The pose forces her to arc her back, thrusting her chest out and her rear up in a suggestive way that makes several of the onlookers turn bright red. Just what is going on here?!
"You're quite noisy, little girl," she says, cooing the words with serpentine charm.
With a sudden heave, Vice simply rips the teen out from underneath her body and hefts her into the air, twisting her about so that her body is suspended upside-down over the red-eyed woman's head. She grins devilishly up at her victim, eyes wide with sadistic glee at the thought of grinding that stupid look of defiance out of her face.
"Let's see if I can get some more pleasing notes!"
The downard motion comes just as quickly and just as fierce. Alexis is slammed head-first into the floor, her impact sending a shuddering jolt throughout the room that causes almost everyone present to wince. Vice lets loose a barking laugh as she rises to her feet, digging her fingers into the girl's face as she does so.
"Sing for me! Ahahaha!"
Once more Vice's absurd strength casts her into the air like a doll. This time she is released, allowed to float for a few glorious moments free of the world, only to be smashed once more into the floor as Vice pounces upon her in mid-air, driving her down to meet the ground with a brutal one-handed slam.
Alexis' all-out style tends to leave exploitable openings - especially when she fails to take into account that her opponent might not have trouble recovering from them. The prone position leaves her susceptible to Vice's superior speed, and though she struggles to escape her grip, it's only on Vice's say-so that she is eventually loosed from it, and there's little more that the punk can do than close her eyes and brace for the impact.
A disturbingly melodic vibration echoes through the room as Alexis' head collides brutally with the ground, dazing the brunette and leaving her completely open to the follow-up slam to come after. Blood runs down over the punk rocker's face as she lifts it off of the floor, one eye peering up at Vice past her matted bangs. Despite the beating she's receiving, the girl looks more confident than before, galvanized by the shift from the unfamiliar waters of law to the comfort of chaos. She tears at one of the side hems of her skirt to have the garment afford her more flexibility.
"I'm not just a singer. I do percussion," she says as she rises into a sonic energy-infused backfist aimed at Vice's gut, then quickly follows the maneuver by pushing up to try and grab at the shoulders of Vice's suit jacket and pull her down.
COMBATSYS: Vice fails to interrupt Drop D EX from Alexis with Overkill EX.
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Vice 0/-------/---====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Alexis
With a surge of effort, Alexis is able to bend Vice over as she rises and force her head between Alexis' thighs, a position accessible because of the self-inflicted fashion damage. "I do my best work..." she breathes as she struggles to apply a double underhook effectively enough to establish a dominant position, "...with a good instrument!"
With that, Alexis kicks out her legs, using her abdomen and gravity's assistance to drive Vice face-first toward an overturned plate on the floor with a concussive wave of aural force to be released upon impact.
Vice rises from her crushing combination and hunches over, intent on laying into the girl once more, giving her no reprieve from the humilation of being dominated in front of a crowd. As seems to be a growing trend, however, her victim recovers from the violent smack down much faster than she anticipated.
The sonic-empowered fist crashes into her gut and doubles her over in surprise leaving her an easy target for the girl to wrap her arms around. She finds herself bent far over and placed into a rather compromising position as the wrestling move drives her face into the ground. The plate cracks into several large fragments as her skull collides with it and the sonic crash that follows after sends those shards flying in all directions leaving tiny lacerations all over her cheek and forehead.
Vice lies prone on the ground for a few moments, slowly gathering herself back up.
Even with the momentum shifting into her favour, Alexis is in rougher shape than the momentary victory might make her appear. Adrenaline and positional dominion are the only reasons that she's quicker to push herself up to her feet. The soles of her stockings have developed growing elliptical tears where they've been sliced open on glass and ceramic, scratches on the skin beneath trickling blood, and though hidden for once by her clothing, the bruises on Alexis' chest are starting to set in, causing her breathing to grow more ragged as she rises. Her hands move to the buttons of her suit jacket, ripping at them and peeling open the black wool shell before tossing the garment aside.
"Who's laughing now, eh?" Alexis challenges the redhead with far more rancor than exultation in her tone. Other than Vice, no one's laughing - other than maybe one guy hiding behind the bar, but he's also crying, so it probably doesn't count.
A high-pitched chiming sound fills the air as Alexis whirls around, swinging one leg up extended in the air much higher than anyone has any business doing in the skirt she's wearing. "You psychotic BITCH!" The curse is emphasized - or vice versa - by the rapid descent of Alexis' bare and bloody heel toward Vice's head, the chiming sound growing briefly louder with the threat of released chi.
COMBATSYS: Alexis successfully hits Vice with Hammer-On.
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Vice 0/-------/-======|>>>>>>>\>>>----\1 Alexis
Vice is still in the midst of rising when the leg comes down on her from above. The powerful burst of sonic energy drives her back down again, sending her flat to the ground once more. For the second time in a handful of seconds, she eats crow. The taste is very much not to her liking.
This time, however, there is no delay in her recovery. Raw fury surges through the woman like a volcanic eruption. How dare she? How /dare/ this WORM humilate her in this fashion?! It had been her plan to tease the girl a little, maybe slap her around a bit before getting to the real objective she had in mind. It would have been entertaining to offer the rock star her own little deal, a corporate sponsorship from the mighty R. And in exchange? She would have asked only that Alexis show those fat slobs what she thought of their rules.
The plan has changed. Now, the only thing that Vice intends to offer to this upstart little bitch is an express trip to the hospital. She turns her face up towards the rocker as she rises, teeth clenched and eyes narrowed in barely restrained fury. Every inch of her body language speaks of murder and mayhem and the air around her becomes charged with the sensation of impending violence.
"Don't get cocky, you filthy INSECT!"
Vice pushes to her feet in a sudden of motion, throwing the leg off her head should it still be resting there, and lunging forward to stand directly infront of the fool that has dared to mock her. Rather than simply strike out, she lifts her leg and steps forward, swinging her knee around in an attempt to hook it over Alexis' hip and waist, drawing her inwards in preparation for what comes next.
COMBATSYS: Alexis blocks Vice's Negative Gain.
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Vice 0/-------/-----==|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\2 Alexis
Finding purchase in her grip, Vice reaches up to steady herself on the girl's shoulders as she draws her other leg up to lock around the first, giving her a tight grip on her waist and leaving her entire weight suspending on Alexis. She sneers into the wannabe rock-star's face and simply leans backwards, using the leverage granted to her by her grip and the weight of her body to yank the both of them into a backwards somersault.
Unfortunately for Alexis, the landing is a lot less graceful than the flip. She comes down on the ground underneath Vice, breaking the fall for the older woman with her body. There is hardly time to register the impact of the first crashing flop before they are in the air again, rebounding into another flip that mirrors the first bone-rattling impact.
The third and final flip is somewhat different. As they rise into the air, Vice loosens her grip around the girl's waist allowing her to slide out of her grasp until the last moment. Expensive shoes that probably cost more money than she makes in a year snap shut tightly around her head like a vice and as the two of them fall to the ground, those feet guide her head directly down into the floor.
Vice shudders with pleasure as the impacts reverberate through her body, taking intense delight in the suffering she causes. A cackling laugh comes to her mouth unbidden, the shrill touch of madness tinging her fervor for battle as she leaps away.
The sudden resurgence catches Alexis momentarily off-guard, as does the unusual attack methodology of the leg hooking around her waist - is this what Alexis' opponents feel like? - and soon the Canadian is carried into the air again. Training in how to take a fall when wrestling is perhaps the only thing that saves the girl's spine as she's slammed into the ground twice - even with proper bracing and posture of her back and avoiding having her head bounce off the floor, the force of the impacts is clear from the sickeningly audible reports.
There's little that can be done to save her head from hitting the ground on the last slam, though, with Vice's feet to guide it there. The shudder that runs through Alexis' body contains none of the pleasure that Vice's does. She sucks in a sharp breath, struggling to regain her wits. There's a distant ringing in her ears, she thinks, but it's hard to tell whether it's the sound of an alarm, the energy in the air around her, or a figment conjured by her rattled brain.
Blocking it out mentally, Alexis rolls over onto her knees, hands moving to cradle her crown as she squeezes her head between her elbows to try and restore her own focus and lifts her eyes up to Vice. As her senses gather, she realises that it's not the keening of a siren that's been lingering on the edge of her senses - it was laughter. As the sound of Vice's cackling becomes more vivid, as if cotton were being removed from her ears, Alexis grinds her teeth. Rage wells up inside, before spilling over: Alexis throws herself up at Vice with a burst of noise, attempting to drive her shoulder into Vice's midsection and wrap her arms around her before slamming her furiously onto the ground on her back.
COMBATSYS: Vice endures Alexis' Beatdown in Three Four EX.
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Vice 0/-------/=======|>>>>---\-------\0 Alexis
Following up immediately, Alexis mounts Vice's stomach, raising her arms up and rolling both sleeves in one swift motion as she rears back and cocks a fist. A pulsating bass note throbs from her hand as she loads the punch. "Why..."
The tirade that follows is punctuated by blow after blow thrown at Vice's face, filling the air with a bizarrely musical chain of sounds not unlike a phone number being dialled in.
The final strike comes in the form of Alexis once again aiming to slam her own head into Vice's, heedless of her own state of injury. The sound rings out like a feedback hum as the last of the violent energy is expended.
Too enraged to bother using proper technique, Vice simply lowers herself into a crouch when the flying tackle comes her way. She catches the young girl in her arms just as Alexis' own wrap about her waist and the both of them tumble to the ground in a tangle of limbs and tattered expensive clothes.
The rock star comes out on top in the short exchange, quite literally, straddling over the business woman's waist in a way that gives her little room to move. The blows rain down upon her one after another, each punch puncuated with a burst of sound that sets Vice's teeth rattling and her ears ringing.
Hello, operator? I seem to have dialed the wrong number.
She seems to put up no resistance to the assault, simply lying there as her foul-mouthed dancing partner vents frustration at being dragged into a fight and repeatedly mocked by the haughty laughter. Blood begins to fly after the first couple of punches, the chi-infused knuckles splitting the slashes in her face a little wider and opening new ones along her lips and nose.
It isn't until she rears back to deliver the final blow that Vice makes her move. Sitting up just as the girl leaves herself open for that one brief instant, she repeats the same defensive manuever that had denied Alexis a similar strike at the beginning of their confrontation. Her head swings up like an anvil, catching the hammer-blow of the sonic headbutt against its surface with unyielding resolve.
Vice's eyes snap open and her fiendish grin returns, crimson pupils shrinking down to viscious dots as she stares with deadly intent into the face of her attacker. Her counter blow doesn't simply stop the headbutt, however, it keeps on going as she rises and reverses their positions, flipping Alexis over onto her back as she slides forward to sit on her stomach.
"Play time is over, little girl! Sweet dreams!"
Both of her hands lift up over her head, fingers interlacing in a weave that turns them into a single deadly mace of flesh and bone. She lets out another cackling laugh as the viscious two-handed smash drops down like a sledgehammer at the rocker's head with the raw fury of her twisted rage.
COMBATSYS: Vice can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\ <
COMBATSYS: Vice successfully hits Alexis with Monstrocity.
Alexis flinches as the hammer blow descends toward her, trying to pull away and avoid her oncoming doom.
It's not to be.
The tile floor beneath the two women is sundered with the force of the impact, caving in to the violence and leaving both to descend down to the floor below, disappearing from view in an instant and leaving the restaurant suddenly oddly quiet save for the fading, lingering hum of aural energy. The waiter from before peers down into the dust, trying to make out movement.
At the table where the record deal was being brokered, the suits of the slick-haired lawyer and label executive have been drenched in their drinks, which have been toppled amidst the rumble and clash of sound and violence. The heads of all three turn from the newly-created pit. Both Robot Buddha representatives raise an eyebrow each in unison. The other lawyer's face remains impassive in the uneasy silence that ensues.
COMBATSYS: Alexis takes no action.
COMBATSYS: Alexis can no longer fight.
Log created on 16:02:06 08/25/2016 by Alexis, and last modified on 14:35:15 08/26/2016.