Neo League 0165 - NL Tournament Lyraelle vs Roland

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Description: Roland tries to steal Lyraelle's gag and ambush her for the Neo League final! But can fighting dirty really work when someone sexy easily distracts him...? Well... tune in to find out!

Everywhere Lyraelle goes, her fans flock to her. At each Neo-League challenge that she made during the regular season, a mob appeared at her electronic beckoning, as though she were some dark (and sexy) messianic figure. People were putty in the Dark Queen's grasp; hearts and minds bent to her will.

So, why was it that Johnny Cage was more interested in making some dumb blond model kid's dreams come true than her obvious invitation to sign her chest, ruining her delicately balanced, tactically slutty bid for self-promotion and instead making her look like she was just another thirsty Cage girl to be appeased with /merchandise?/ She'd seen those 'SINGLE AF' shades in the photos, too - ruining her intended #LyraxJohnny hashtag rumour campaign before it could get off the ground.

Her ego needs refuelling, and if that means resorting to choosing a venue for her Neo-League quarterfinal where attractive men are literally obligated to fawn over her as part of their job description (and their attentions conveniently disposable upon Her Majesty's exit), then so be it.

Besides, she owes the owner of Mars & Venus a visit.

"...and remember, keep an eye out for that big event from The Channel coming up!" the pink-haired celebrity succubus is saying to her smartphone as she sashays through the front door of the Southtown club.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, minions, I'm going to have some 'me' time before my Neo-League quarterfinal~" she says, winking at the camera and making a V salute next to her face at the thousands of fans viewing her stream live online. "Pics will follow!"

She hits the stop button on her phone and tucks it away, lifting her green eyes to meet those of the worker charged with greeting her -

A beautiful Japanese woman in a tight, sensual red dress.

"Konnichi wa! Welcome to Venus!"

Lyraelle's teeth grind against each other behind her tight lips as she realizes that the club that she's stepped into is full of scantily-clad young hostesses instead of scantily-clad young hosts.

"You are Miss Darkheart, yes? Come," the woman says with a smile. "We have prepared a selection of hostesses especially for your arrival. It is an honor to have a celebrity such as yourself choose our establishment for such an event."

"I'm sorry," Lyraelle says with a tone as sweet as a mouth full of saccharine, "there's been a mistake here."

The woman greeting Her Majesty frowns, canting her head to one side. "My apologies, Miss Darkheart. How can I help?"

Lyraelle's eyes turn to the stage, now prepared as a fighting ring, and the array of Neo-League cameras and crew set up in preparation for the upcoming battle. She calculates the odds of relocating the event to the Mars sister club without her mistake becoming public knowledge as the first smartphones start to click around her, held by customers, hostesses and fighting fans alike.

"... I prefer to be addressed as /Queen/ Darkheart," Lyraelle says with a pretense of a smile for the greeter. "And as for helping me, I have a very particular request regarding my hostess..."

The smile turns into a smirk as she follows the greeter further in.

About half an hour later, Her Infernal Majesty is seated on a throne-like seat prepared in advance for her off to the side of the stage, a pretty hostess standing beside her dressed, strangely enough, in a banchou outfit, with a jacket, baggy trousers and a commissar cap. She's leaning against the throne and flashing a V along with Lyraelle as the latter snaps a selfie.

"So, did you want to tell me more about yourself, Your Majesty?" the hostess asks.

"Just smile for the camera," Lyraelle says with a vehement flatness as she snaps a couple more shots before stuffing her phone away again, folding her arms across her chest and huffing a sigh.

Roland has watched. Studied. Waited. He knows the girl he is against is far more dangerous then her simple appearance would indicate; nobody pressures Terry Bogard that much without hiding a nuclear bomb. A feat he certainly could not claim to do, himself! It does not matter, of course, that she's hardly bad to look at. Jealous indeed, of her media presence... Roland himself is hardly bad, the tall, well-built, dark-skinned cowboy of the League! Something about the horrible way he conducts himself and in his fights is working against him... even if new arms and flashy new tricks are helping, some...

Everything is set up, but the fight is still not in the immediate future. Roland himself has intruded, if from a distance that should be rather harmless; lurking near the back walls of the club, head tilted down, doing a fair job of staying stealthy in plain sight. Eyes are elsewhere, not the walls, and he's supposed to check into the staging area on top of it all. But he read the contracts... TECHNICALLY, if both people are present and 'combat capable', there is no need to face off in a traditional fashion. This loophole might normally have been to Lyraelle favor, of course... that was one hell of a dropkick she did on the Legendary Wolf.

Which is when an almost lazy 'paff!' of compressed air fires, towards Lyraelle's throne. It's not the sort of thing most would notice; a small, strange piece of metal spiraling gently past the crowd, heading right towards the looming infernal queen. It's not going to hit her, but... it is going to probably pass a bit out of arm's reach.

Yet then, there's a flash of green energy. Suddenly in the air, right above her, is her opponent. One hand pressing down his hat, trenchcoat trailing behind. Sleeveless side of his jacket showing the compact, futuristic design of an Ultratech milspec cybernetic limb, humming gently with green energy circulating within the shell. He grins, for the few moments available for people to react. He, too, is one who likes a show.

"Queen Darkheart, right?" A moment later he twists, right heel flaring with green energy. Slamming it towards the girl, although the quick, acrobatic strike would not immediately break the it even if he missed... leaving a searing footprint, on whatever it connected -- which would violently detonate a second later, in a condensed explosion of emerald fire!

"Sorry to cut in... but I can sense an uphill fight, and I'm the kind of man who likes to stack his own deck. You'll forgive me, right...?!"

COMBATSYS: Roland has started a fight here.

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Roland           0/-------/-======|

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle has joined the fight here.

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Roland           0/-------/-======|=------\-------\0         Lyraelle

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle blocks Roland's Medium Kick.

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Roland           0/-------/=======|===----\-------\0         Lyraelle

The banchou-costumed hostess forces a smile for the camera before glancing askance when the Demon Queen puts the camera away. Putting on a brave face, she clears her throat and tries again.

"Would you like to order drinks for the two of us, Your Majesty?"

"Oh, whatever. Fine! I'll have a tequila sunrise, and you can have - what drink would fit Mitsuru-chan best? Oh, have yourself a virgin strawberry daiquiri. Emphasis on the virgin."

The infernal influencer can already see the #extravirgin hashtag for the next selfie in her head. It's enough to at least crack her icy expression into a conniving smirk as she starts to sort her selfies, tagging the latest with #newbff.

Suddenly -


Lyraelle pauses, the tips of her pointed ears pricking in cat-like fashion.

Her eyes narrow as they shoot up from the blue glow of her mobile's screen.

"Was that a wine stopper, or did some peasant just try to airsoft me?"

That's when the flash of green energy hits, and suddenly, a trenchcoat-clad cowboy is crashing her party - in the most direct manner.

'Queen Darkheart, right?'

The demonette's left arm is already rising in defense of its owner, the elbow-length purple glove absorbing the impact of Roland's right leg against her forearm. The emerald fire erupts from the burning imprint of the former conman's foot, obscuring the she-fiend's face for a moment in the green glare.


The demon-lady leaps from her throne, vaulting over the cowboy in a forward flip before landing several feet away on the opposite side, a perturbed pout on her lips as she turns her head over her shoulder, tossing her pink ponytail as she eyes Roland.

"Recognition, intimidation, and imitation... I think I'm just flattered enough to consider it, cowboy."

The demonette gives a wink - but as she does, there's a warning glint in her green eye. And a moment later, as she whirls around to face Roland, both eyes flash, igniting with infernal fire, only to be unleashed a moment later in a pair of scorching green rays hurtling toward the cybernetically-enhanced cowboy!

"Hope you can handle the heat yourself, hon'!"

COMBATSYS: Roland overcomes Balefire Gaze from Lyraelle with Roulette.
- Power hit! -

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Roland           1/-------/=======|====---\-------\0         Lyraelle

"Oof...! That's a solid defense, alright... yeesh, this won't look good for me." Roland mumbles; it's clear he was not holding back in the slightest, despite the seeming appearance of the demonette opposite. He uses her branced stance to kick off, landing on a crouch to skid slightly backwards as the nimble Lyraelle whorls over to settle herself a brief distance away. He makes a show of standing up, flicking off his cowboy hat and then running fingers through his hair. Certainly, the New Roland has a more notable aesthetic; not many utilize advanced robotic arms in their fights, after all, and Ultratech is all about making it look good.

"Go easy on me, okay?" Ah, this sort of attack would be incredibly dangerous... if Lyraelle wasn't so keen on making her fights easy to find! Twisting around, Roland's right arm suddenly erupts forward, just past the elbow. A thin steel cable keeps it firmly tethered; four miniature engines ignite with green flame, and with the mechanical palms splayed open, the eye-lasers slam right into the middle of it; slowed significantly as she unloads the infernal chi, but deflecting off a subtle shimmer of energy to rake across the floor and ceiling with a flash!

The moment she stops, Roland ignites the engines to full throttle -- aiming to slam into her throat, grip it, before he engages the arm, trying to reel Lyraelle in towards him as he shifts to brace himself on the floor; as the shielding energy he had gathered upon his hand detonates violently once more!!

COMBATSYS: Roland successfully hits Lyraelle with Roulette.
Grazing Hit

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Roland           1/-----==/=======|=====--\-------\0         Lyraelle

The searing beams of energy dissipate seconds after ignition, the deflected rays leaving smouldering green-tinged scars across the floor and ceiling in their aftermath.

"Go easy on you? Sorry, stud - I prefer to play rough - ghngh!"

The sensuality in the infernal temptress' tone is overridden by the mechanical hand as it wraps around her throat. The subtle musculature of her neck rebels against the cowboy's grip, the succubus proving slippery and difficult to keep a firm hold on, though the reeling line does succeed in pulling her ever closer. Blue electricity starts to crackle around her gloved right hand as she wraps it around the dispatched forearm in an attempt to wrest it off.

She actually starts to quake with a giggle as she nears.

"And here I was thinking I'd be disappointed!" she manages to say in a low voice, her quip hinting at the slipping of the grip over her trachea. A moment later, and a split second before the secondary detonation occurs, she twists out of Roland's hand - and, now in point blank engagement range, she practically slithers around behind the Ultratech agent, aiming to hook her left leg across his waist as she does so while simultaneously attempting to snake her arms around his torso.

"Of course, I /could/ take it easy on you..."

If she manages to initiate the embrace from behind, she'd then try to lock it in by squeezing her arms tight with crushing strength before lifting her right leg up and locking it over the left -

"...if you don't mind taking a fall!"

- at which point her leathery purple bat-wings would burst to their full span behind her shoulders, intending to carry the cowboy up toward the ceiling before flipping upside down and spiralling back toward the floor with the goal of driving Roland into it hat-first with an explosive concoction of infernal green flame and thundering blue lightning!

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle successfully hits Roland with Demondriver.

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Roland           1/--=====/=======|=======\=------\1         Lyraelle

"Oye, oye... I'm going into this almost certain I'm going to lose. But that doesn't mean I can't make a show of it. I'm hip to being a popular fighter too, y'know. Roland Brown!!" He throws a peace sign in the direction of wherever is being recorded, which turns out to be a bad idea as it provides ample opportunity for Lyraelle to attack him...

Then again, there's that momentary doubt on whether he /wants/ to escape. Captured back as his own inertia is used against him, a mild grunt of annoyance leaves the aspirant cowboy. "N-no fair! Sexy stuff's distracting, damnit!!" He twists slightly, and there's a CRACK of his arm firing again, but he must have missed, as nothing seems to come of it. He seems to have no other defense, slamming down into the ground with a distinctive lack of poise beyond angry knotting...

He briefly sails away, before a ripple -- it seems that noise was him firing off his mechanical arm again; currently gripping her throne! "...ow." he remarks, smoldering and burnt, but green eyes still burning and in the game. Retracting, he launches himself towards Lyraelle with a ramp of force and speed. Rearing back his left arm, as the right shoots back to slam and slot with the cybernetic right, he begins to rain down a series of brutal blows; each infused with green chi, although it would seem to stick with annoying tenacity, as opposed to instantly detonate... trying to drive the succubi backwards without pause, before shifting forward to grasp her securely, twist... and HURL her into the air.

This attack, a fellow showman would know, is heavily invested in 'looking cool'. Especially as she'd not actually DETONATE in his own green, scouring fire from all those built-up attacks until at the perfect spot in the air above... replete with a twist and tilt forward of his cowboy hot, and a perfectly timed snap of his finger.

"Jackpot...! ...blegh!" Then he coughs up a little blood and wobbles. That part'll need editing.

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle blocks Roland's Jackpot!.

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Roland           0/-------/--=====|=======\======-\1         Lyraelle

"Good to know~ <3"

The response to Roland's protest against 'sexy stuff' is spoken directly into his ear by the demoness moments before the impact with the ground. In the wake of the destructive force, spiderweb cracks sizzle in the floor, and the succubus spins away a split second before she herself would have struck the smooth surface horns-first, sliding along the ground on her hands and knees with the protection of her gloves and thigh-highs against the burn that would otherwise result. Then again, one would wonder whether the succubus, in her supernatural nature, is prone to such maladies.

It has, in fact, been a topic of discussion on the Demon Queen's forums, but those threads have since been taken down by the site's moderation team.


The sound of the succubus is both prideful and a little breathless as she rolls onto her backside, recovering just a little slowly from the exertion of the assault. Roland's rebound is faster than expected - the mobility afforded by his augmentation catches her off-guard, forcing her back on the defensive as he throws himself at her once more.


She twists, interposing the back of a bat-like wing against the initial blows, the appendage proving surprisingly sturdy - though the green energy remains imprinted against the steely leather. As she turns across her knees, the other wing takes the brunt of the next blow. With her feet gathering under her, she spins back around to block the remainder of the barrage by meeting his attacks with her own hands, catching them one by one. After the last, her eyes flit aside to the energy clinging to the palm of her right glove.

"Ugh! This is so much sexier when I - ahh!"

The pink-haired hellion is hurled upward into the air, realising almost too late that she's on the verge of making the front page of FightTube in a bad way - and thus, her wings wrap around her person, sheltering her from the impending explosion. The green corona that erupts from the Demon Queen is nevertheless impressive as intended - which only serves to make the manner in which the succubus emerges from her leathery shell seconds later, smoking and singed but relatively intact, all the more so. Her wings beat a few times as she hovers, coughing a couple of times before clearing her throat.

"Sounds about right~" the temptress taunts with a teasing tone, tilting her head and tittering. She presses the fingertips and thumbs of each smouldering, gloved hand together, then pulls them slowly apart - a crackling, serpentine strand of green flame growing between them as she does like a whip - emphasized when she flexes the fire as if it were one.

"Now, it's my turn!"

Dropping toward the floor, Lyraelle is already spinning by the time that she touches down, her whip lashing out toward Roland in an attempt to wrap around his person before wrenching him back mightily toward her, the energy weapon proving tangible enough for the purpose of wrapping further and further around the cowboy. If she succeeds in capturing him, she'll then pivot, using the weapon to lift and slam him down onto his stomach, then aim to press her heel into his spine to hold him place as the weapon rapidly retracts - only to then be used to lash him repeatedly!

"Had enough, handsome?!"

COMBATSYS: Roland blocks Lyraelle's Royal Reprimand - Lashes to Ashes.

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Roland           0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1         Lyraelle

Damnit...! Roland's quite certain that attack was stacked in his favor. Although he might be putting on a show about how harmless he is, the dangerous demoness just managed to endure his accelerated onslaught; replete with his own energy ramping up his considerable speed, and further the amplification of the cord. "You're... freaking... cheating!!" he accuses in the midst of his onslaught, despite being someone who almost entirely rides both cybernetics and being a prodigy... that's different, somehow.

"Waitwaitwait time out--" Roland tries, but it's little more then a stalling tactic. His right fist flexes, before manifesting a holographic-like shield of green energy in a meter-wide circle. Similar to the effect he used to deflect Lyraelle's eye lasers earlier in the fight. Her whip snakes out, capturing him with a singing burn and the smell of scorched leather. Bondage and proximity is achieved, but he lands upon his knees instead of his stomach; and her heel cracks into his shield, sparking and hissing out green sparks. "Hrrn...! Not yet... I want this to be win-win. Best case, I take you down... worst case? This might FINALLY get my own FightTube account off the ground!!"

Which is right about when his shield explodes, in a blinding flash of light. Whorl of energy manifesting into a plasma blade, which he whips out. Servos engage, rotors overheat, and he strikes in a violent slash, trying to rake Lyraelle from shoulder to hip with the vorpal energy. "ONE..."

He then drops, twisting and attempting to sweep out the succubi's feet clean out from under her; "Two...!" Before pivoting upwards, his leg stretching straight up. Green fire surging on his heel. Trying to drop it right upon Lyraelle's midsection, and drive her into the ground... before flexing his muscles, letting loose a powerful surge of exploding emerald energy in an attempt to engulf her with a nearly body-sized green fireball!! But all his momentum's being wiped out... and the amped-up nervous system he's trying to ride is just shy of fritzing...


COMBATSYS: Roland successfully hits Lyraelle with Three Card Monte.

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Roland           1/-----==/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\1         Lyraelle

"Cheating? It's not a beauty contest!" Lyraelle retorts to Roland's protests as her whip sizzles in the air. Venus continues to suffer the scars of the engagement's overwhelming energy, drops of molten green chi scoring the floor as the weapon lashes to and fro. "And after /you/ ambush /me/? You're almost as cheeky as I am!"

The Demon Queen huffs, then lets out a sudden cry as the shield protecting Roland explodes, the blinding flash catching her off-guard. Her green eyes shut for a moment as she's forced to rely on alternative senses to defend herself, elf-like ears twitching - but the plasma blade manages to rake across her flesh, searing a gash even through her highly heat-tolerant attire and scorching the even-more-highly heat-tolerant flesh beneath. She contorts in pain, opened to the ensuing leg sweep. Her body hits the floor, and the green energy which is not her own engulfs her as she lets out another, sharper cry.

It's rather undignified for one of her royal stature.


Lyraelle rolls away, rising up to her feet with the fluid motion. Her right arm drapes along the gash across her torso, instinctively holding herself inside her dearly damaged leotard to ensure avoidance of a wardrobe malfunction and covering the wound beneath as she regards Roland.

"Fine... you want FightTube followers? I'll make sure to tag you after I win, so you can bask in my glory!"

She raises her left hand palm upward in front of her face, conjuring a basketball-sized viridian fireball above her hand.

"Now, let's see if you can make it to the big finish before you overheat! Show me what you've got, cowboy!"

The hell-witch winks before blowing the fireball forward as if she were blowing a kiss. As it flies forth, it grows, doubling in dimensions and taking on the shape of a heart as it hurtles toward Roland. Should it connect, a violent explosion would ensue!

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle issues a challenge!!

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Roland           1/-----==/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>>>\1         Lyraelle

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle successfully hits Roland with Royal Salutation - <3.

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Roland           1/-----==/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>----\1         Lyraelle

"You'd not dominate a beauty contest as well as you'd want, damnit!!" Roland claims, satisfied at least that his brutal attack seems to have reached even Lyraelle. But... well, at this point it's all stacked against him. Being coy and unleashing his full salvo before she realized how dangerous he was happened to be pretty much the start and end of his own little plan here, after all. He's breathing heavily as the wisps of acrid green smoke and crackling chi warble around him, rubbing sweat from his own brow. It puts him in a poor spot to react to her blown 'kiss'; the eruption of energy overtakes him with a 'waaaaaugh!', leaving him smoldering on his hands and knees.

"...not... out of it just yet... you better hold to it!! You're not the only fighter who wants an online presence, damnit!!" Roland then bursts into a run, jacking up the surge of green energy into a series of after-images, aiming to kick forward and get close to Lyraelle as best he can. "I'M JUST WAY WORSE AT IT!!" ...this part is undebatably true. Once he's close enough to the girl, he flexes his hands, expression becoming... untrustworthy. Before striking out, trying to capture Lyraelle by either shoulder. Green energy pulses down his limbs, crackling; trying to literally channel it into the girl. It's always proven itself clingy and tenacious... but this time it's much worse, as if he's attempting to force-feed her an unwanted amount of his own aura that feels heavy and loagy, to say the least.

"C'mon... make sure you finish me in an *AWESOME WAY!!*" he hisses, before trying to hook his ankle behind Lyraelle's foot, twist, and hurl her back-first towards the ground; as some, but not all, of the explosive green energy would ignite as a result, attempting to stagger and disorient his opponent even as he warbles and stumbles as the 'on' switch of adrenaline and self-amplifying chi decides to suddenly go to 'off'...

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle dodges Roland's Double or Nothing.

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Roland           0/-------/--=====|>>>>>>>\>>>>>--\1         Lyraelle

Despite Roland's contrarian claim, the succubus celebre smirks slyly in response from the other side of her heart-shaped salvo. "Only because judges like to lie to themselves~" she says with unmitigated moxie as Roland is left falling to his hands and knees, straightening up and releasing her hold on her garment - which remains intact, though more scandalously plunged than ever.

When Roland runs at her, she twists to one side, allowing him to pass by as he kicks forward. He still manages to get close to her, though - hands grasping the she-devil by either shoulder. As he channels his energy into her, her own aura surges against it, heat rising off of her in waves as she matches his untrustworthy expression with a coquettish one of her own.

"Don't worry, I'll hold to it, as long as you make me look good~" she says in a sultry tone as her eyes lock with Roland's. "Besides... all of my finishers are awesome!"

She winks, and as he hooks her ankle and hurls her toward the ground, she goes down easily - a little too easily, in fact. As it turns out, she's not just being slammed, but rolling with it - and as she hits the ground, back-first, it's her wings that impact, the green energy clinging to her shoulders transmitted through them and forced to paint the floor by her own essential command as the extended appendages push off from it into a backflip. Within a moment, the explosion detonates (property damage notwithstanding) on the floor as Lyraelle hovers overhead unharmed.

"Let's see if you're familiar with this one!" the Demon Queen calls out with a playfulness that belies the resources she's already spent.

Spiralling forward, she dives toward Roland, swooping as if intent on capturing or crashing into the cowboy - but it's a feint, the only actual goal to snatch his hat from his head before rising out of the dive to take to the air on the other side of him. By the time that she'd hit the apex of her ascent, she'll have produced a miniature camera in her right hand, simultaneously raising it selfward while using the left hand to perch the hat on her own horned head - if she's managed to acquire it - before snapping a shot of herself V-saluting and winking as she lifts her knees toward her chest.

Then, a moment later, she'd swing her feet up and thrust her wings forward - causing her to swoop back down, backside-first, in an attempt to catch the cowboy off-guard with a collision and pin Roland down beneath her rear end!

Should she manage to do so, her spaded tail would slither around the cowboy's nearest available limb, the insidious appendage seeking to sap essence from its owner's opponent!

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle successfully hits Roland with Royal Requisition - Dark Queen's Throne.

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Roland           0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0         Lyraelle

"...well, crap." Roland says, as his latest gambit fails to slither through the supernatural speed and enhanced strength of a higher-end Darkstalker. Yet he did go into this with a Plan B; if his carefully orchestrated ambushes wouldn't fail, he would at least hopefully get on the radar with a Top-8 battle amongst one of the two most famous people in the entire competition...

"Hey!! Don't fuck with my hat!!" he calls out, once it's snatched. Said hat is obviously years old, and very worn. Everything else he's got on looks new and tres-chic cutting edge; sentimental value perhaps? It does do an awful good job of distracting him though, and it's not as if having a sexy demon-girl-definitely-cosplayer landing atop him and driving him into the ground is ENTIRELY a bad thing. There's only his left arm to grasp; a mechanical one is probably a worse conduit.

He then puts on a heck of a show of agonized-pleasure. Twist, buck, struggle! It's not exactly apparent which half of things is the grandiose act, but he's not bad at it... probably going to get a lot of hype for #ImYourThrone in the near future. Before he just sprawls out, looking both dazed and pleased in equal measure... a final, desperate attack would just *ruin* the moment after all, when he's pretty sure the outcome is fully decided! And the Neo League observers seem fully happy to ring the bell and declare Lyraelle the winner by... they seem to be calling it a technical knock-out?!

COMBATSYS: Roland takes no action.

[                   \\\\\\\\\\\  <
Lyraelle         0/-------/---====|

COMBATSYS: Roland can no longer fight.

[                   \\\\\\\\\\\  <
Lyraelle         0/-------/---====|

Sensing that Roland has submitted - whether by intent or by force - to her trademark finishing move, Lyraelle relaxes for the moment, allowing the audience an opportunity to take as many pictures as they like, taking her time with her smartphone to get her own angle just right to capture both her own smiling face and thumb-up and Roland's expression.

"Let me know when you're ready for me to move, handsome," she says without looking over her shoulder as she tips the cowboy hat just so before snapping her latest InstaSlam selfie, quickly tapping out a caption. Strangely, she seems to have taken on a bit of a Southern accent - though it could just be a bit of impromptu acting.


'Thought I'd take that old man's advice and put on some clothes. Does swapping hats with my opponent make me a #reversecowgirl? #Lyraelle #DQTFTW @CowboyRolandsRocket'

"Here's your hat back," she says, presently propping herself up on her free hand and shaking out her pink ponytail as she proffers the aged headwear to its rightful owner. The smile over her shoulder doesn't appear to hold the same saccharine sweetness of some of her earlier expressions - in fact, the demon girl seems to be in a genuinely good mood. More herself, one might say.

"Hopefully I got your username right~"

Meanwhile, the scars of the battle still smoulder where they criss-cross the club's previously smooth surfaces...

COMBATSYS: Lyraelle has ended the fight here.

Log created on 14:01:36 08/07/2021 by Roland, and last modified on 10:50:55 08/22/2021.