Description: The Wheel of Madness main event pitting that guy with the big chin against the pizza boy. Oh, and a red head gets involved and a playground gets wrecked. Fun times had by all. (Winner: Vega)
Summertime in the park is a wonderful thing! The sun is out, it's hot as all hell, and people are free to fun, laugh, and enjoy themselves as only god-awful sweltering heat will allow. Joggers schlep about with their ever-so-chic iPods, those white little earnubs making them prime targets for CRIME. That, or the highly fashionable red-striped sports bras that they're sporting..but then, this is Japan. All you'll get is a bunch of underdeveloped anarexia-afflicted wannabes hopping about..probably listening to sugarpop or something equally hideous. Tch. Thankfully, the sunny day seems to be coming to an end; clouds have started rolling in from the east, heavy-laden with moisture from the ocean, granting brief respite from the harsh rays in the form of blissfully cool shadows.
As if heralding the coming of gloomy weather, a similarly dour man arrives from the outlying forests, along one of the paths used by those incorrigible health enthusiasts. Rather than /walking/ through town, it's simply more convenient to have one's craft land some appreciably distance away, then walk nearly alone; a ways behind him are, in fact, a couple of spandex-clad girls, none older than sixteen among them, their outfits the color of charcoal. They stop at the edge of the trees in their small group of three, apparently here to watch as their Lord steps through the thinner section of the throng waiting to watch this 'main event' nonsense. And when he steps 'through', it's more like the people feel compelled to part a path through their flock. The cameras are already set up, and plenty of space has been given berth, a large circle that completely encompasses the..playground.
The clank of shinguards couple with the crunching sound of soles plodding through the sandbox, and another crunch, this one louder; the splintering of plastic as the man's foot comes down on a bright blue plastic sandbucket. Rendered useless, the Psycho lord kicks it off in front of him with a spray of grit and shimmering sand. Off behind him, some brat starts sobbing about his toy, whatever it is the little filth left instead of bringing it away like a responsible little Tiny. Idiot.
That done, Vega does little but stand still, one leg slightly lifted with the foot on the wooden slat that marks the sandbox's boundry. His arms are folded, and today, he actually doesn't have his cloak, though the rest of his attire is the same as always. Clean, too, and new-looking, with all of the metal bits polished to an immaculate sheen.
Appropriate timing, the clouds. As the stormy weather arrives, it's almost as if they were a stormcloud hovering right over the Shadaloo Lord's head.
With Vega already having arrived, all that was required was for Terry Bogard to arrive, and the show could start. Where he was, though... no one was quite sure. He wasn't here yet, and the cameras were ready to roll. The crowd murmured amongst themselves to fill the silence of anticipation, and one of the producers started to grumble about wasted time. Then one person in the back of the crowd yelled "Here he comes!" before the sea of heads turned to face towards the denim-clad blonde as he strode towards the playground, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. The crowd parted enough to allow him through, quickly closing the gap behind him as he approached the outer edge of the makeshift ring.
The duffel bag is tossed off to some convenient spot off to the side, then Terry pushes the brim of his cap back a bit to look over towards Vega, standing at the edge of the sandbox. "So, you're Vega. Always wondered how it might turn out if this ever happened." A bit of a smile tugs up the corners of his lips before he cracks the knuckles of his right hand, then the left. "Ready when you are."
COMBATSYS: Vega has started a fight here.
COMBATSYS: Terry has joined the fight here.
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Terry 0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0 Vega
"No, no," Vanessa correct Terry when she comes into range. "You're ready when -I- am."
True to form, as per request, the redhead appears to be here on an official capacity. In this case, she's wearing an out-and-out tux for the occasion, given that this is one of the 'main attractions.' Or rather... she's wearing -part- of one, considering the heat. The usual expensive dress shirt has been changed out for a sleeveless one, though this one doesn't expose her midriff. And instead of her red tie? A bowtie. What'd she do, chloroform King and steal her wardrobe?
If the trousers were mauve, there might be some truth to that idea.
"Alright, boys-- I'm only here to announce but I reserve the right to call bullshit if either of you pull anything -too- crazy. Let's keep this clean, and please--" she turns to Vega, "--let's keep the 'dissolving people to a heap of charred flesh and broken bones' bit outta this match, alright? It's good for ratings, sure, but I don't know how kindly Mr. Bogard here'd take to it."
Grinning over towards the Lone Wolf, she takes a step away from the two fighters, dusting off the front of her dress shirt before belting out the Usual.
"Alright, ladies and gents! Hailing from god only knows where, sporting the flashiest looking SS uniform -I've- ever seen and giving the Nazi regime a run for its money-- 'Lord' Vega!" And now that -that's- out of the way... "And of course, Southtown's own, the man who -still- has yet to drink me under the table-- Terry Bogard! Make it a good fight, guys-- I've got good money riding on this one."
Isn't it, though? Does the weather bring an ominous chill, doesn't it? Why, perhaps the Shadaloo monster SHOULD have brought his cloak, the image of him standing on the sandbox triumphantly, fabric billowing in the breeze behind him... ....Mmm. It looks silly even in his head. His nostrils flare with a snort as Vega glances about, his jaw clenched and lower lip stiffened against its higher counterpart. What dump of a battlefield.
A brief glance is spared to Vanessa, those lips curling up in a grin most malicious and, if one may say, fond with memory. He doesn't often forget a face, most especially that one those who avoided the very thing that reduced Jacob to a useless husk of charred meat and bone. He simply snorts derisively, head lifting in a snobbish motion; just try to stop him. ..Actually..the woman might be of some use. As soon as she steps away, one of Vega's large, meaty hands reaches out for the announcer, referee, whatever it is she's supposed to be here. Nothing harmful is done, though! At least, not really. He grabs for her neck, and then sees fit to simply toss her at the Lone Wolf himself. Did she say that the fight had begun yet? Ah well.. Stupid sheep shouldn't call people Nazis, should she?
COMBATSYS: Terry endures Vega's Large Thrown Object.
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Terry 0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0 Vega
The cap of the blonde is pushed up a bit as he peers over towards the announcer's table, and he can't help but smirk as he sees just who's doing tonight's announcing. A grin tugs up the corners of his lips, accompanied by a shake of his head as Vanessa announces Vega, then himself. "First, an angry German, then this. I swear, it's turning into a theme." Terry's head tilts a bit to the left, then sharply to the right, causing his neck to pop audibly before he takes a few steps further into the ring. Once there, he digs his heels in and starts to settle into a comfortable stance.
And as soon as he settles, he looks up to find his opponent hurling the formally-clad redhead right at him. "Well, I've gotta give him points for creativity," murmured to himself while taking a few steps to better align himself with Vanessa's trajectory, then his arms come up as she slams into his chest, sending him staggering back a few steps. He manages to keep hold, though. "You know, if you wanted to go drinking again, you could have waited until after the fight to tell me." He grins down at Vanessa, then sets her down before turning back to Vega. The returns to the blonde's face before he settles the ball of one foot against the ground, then he pushes off that as he breaks into a quick run.
The plastic soles of the Chuck Taylors slap rapidly against the ground as he covers the distance between himself and Vega, then... he just tucks into a forward somersault. Right as he rolls onto his shoulders, his hands plant against the ground, and his entire body extends upwards, right foot first. "RISING TACKLE!" The left foot trails soon after as Terry pushes himself off the ground, already spinning as he tries to plant a foot underneath that oversized chin.
COMBATSYS: Vega blocks Terry's Rising Tackle.
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Terry 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Vega
The shouted "-WHAT THE HELL ARE Y--" is abruptly cut off the moment that Vanessa's airborn, the rather humiliating yelp that comes from her preceeding her collision with the elder Bogard, which brings about the expected *OOF*. Sliding down a couple inches along Terry once he stumbles to a halt, she barely notices what's said to her, her eyes immediately going over towards Vega. When she's -released-, she looks damn near ready to enter the fight -herself-...
...until at least three members of security forcibly restrain her mid-sprint. Good thing for them they're fast enough to keep up with her, much less have the ability to restain her without, you know, knocking her senseless.
The shouted string of obscenities that are aimed at Vega are... quite colorful. Insinuations about his mother and what kind of livestock she favors as bedfellows is one of the notable rants. Eventually, she calms down, yanking away from security in order to watch from the sidelines. Ehm.
"C*cksucker," is the last offerance, said through a noticable sneer.
"Well, aren't we chivalrous?" Vega's voice smacks of mockery, his lips curled into a downright sneer. The man stayed standing, which was enough; he'd been a bit..well, disappointed had he simply toppled over like a Brunswick pin. His right foot scrapes back across the grass, cleaning it of whatever sand granules seemed to want to clog up his impeccable treads. And Vanessa? Oh, her little outburst makes him SMILE. That smug, awful thing spreads across his face as if virulent, an expression that most would simply slap right off, if they weren't aware of the repercussions.
..Ah, but..he's getting ahead of himself. The leader's facial muscles contort and shed the expression that comes as close to happy as he gets, pulling the corners of his lips down as if afflicted with tiny weights. There won't be the constant lollygagging and openings during mockery this time around. His throat rumbles with an audible grunt, his right foot pulling back, left arm out a bit as his right curls in front of his chest, the fingers digging into his palm to make the swollen fist. His creepish, pupil-less eyes stay focused on Terry himself as he comes in, his body leaning back slightly in anticipation. The..somersault is, admittedly, unexpected, and unorthodox..but not wholly undocumented. A large, red-wrapped arm moves quickly, leaving the cheap sneakers to smack with a muffled thud against Vega's forearm, muscles tight as they keep the pizza boy from going too high. Pulling his head back and, thusly, saving him from facial harm when the foot slips off of his arm and past, his right leg shoots up, quickly, an armored knee aimed for the top of the capped one's head while it's there.
COMBATSYS: Terry blocks Vega's Dead Rise.
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Terry 0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0 Vega
There's a slight grunt of disappointment as Terry feels his foot glancing off one of those tree-trunk forearms, but more urgent matters bring themselves rather quickly to bear. Spinning as he may be, it's not hard to catch the glint of metal rather quickly shooting for his head, and both hands shoot down to plant against Vega's knee and fighting off shudders as the force of the blow sends shivers right up his arms. Rather than just toppling over, the ponytailed Bogard keeps himself held up by his hands just long enough to re-propel himself, working off the momentum of the Shadaloo Lord's knee-strike to throw himself even higher into the air..
As the momentum starts to fade and gravity re-asserts itself, Terry's entire body spins an abrupt 180 in the air as his right foot explodes in a thick burst of blue chi, twisting around to try to bring that foot right upside the megalomaniac's head.
COMBATSYS: Terry successfully hits Vega with Crack Shoot.
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Terry 0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0 Vega
This is EXACTLY what the dictator was trying to avoid.
..Still, the boy's reflexes are commendable. A rush of air leaves Vega as his knee lifts, only helping the guy soar higher still! That..was not his intention. An incomprehensible curse it uttered just moments before trying to pull back, to avoid the foot coming down at him. ..It doesn't work. Jarring his brainmeats with the heavy hit, Vega is dropped to a knee and sent slouched forward, his right fist on the ground as his head is bowed, the cap that usually sits to tightly upon his crown falling with a plop.
Ah, but he doesn't move for a moment, not JUST yet. His teeth are clenched already and his right hand pulls up, the fingers stretching out and tightning into a large ball once more. "INSECT!" he suddenly belts out in a loud, deep bellow, immediately pushing up and toward Terry with that right hand extending, now oozing a violet radiance of Psycho power. His left hand clings to the right's wrist, and the man's body simply..defies gravity, staying parallel to the ground and aiming to collide with the damnable blonde. He wants to hurt, to maim..wants to fly with Terry's body in front of him and SLAM him forcefully into the tangled mess of iron pipes that make the local jungle gym. Hit HIM, will he?
COMBATSYS: Vega successfully hits Terry with Psycho Torpedo.
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Terry 1/-------/=======|=======\-------\0 Vega
The applicable word for the moment would most likely be 'ow', if Terry could manage to get a word in against getting buried into a massive tangle of iron piping. There's a massive eruption of clattering metal and sand and turf being thrown all over the place as Vega plants the blonde back-first into the jungle gym, and for a moment... Terry just kinda lies there. It's not every day a man has the opportunity to be the primary cause of an old, metal piece of playground equipment getting wrecked to hell. Two or three seconds further pass before Terry actually manages to kip-up from the wreckage, rolling back onto his shoulders before hopping to his feet. Once vertical again, he tilts his head to the side, spitting up a fair-sized gob of blood before a grin touches to the corners of his lips.
"Quite an outburst. Makes me wonder what's going to happen if I hit you again." The cap-clad blonde grins a bit wider before leaning forward just a little. There's a moment of forward momentum building, a few quick steps before he pushes hard off his right foot, and the right fist is thrown forward as his entire body just sort of glides across the playground. Said fist starts to pick up the same blue glow as his foot did previous, and the blonde martial artist bears down on Vega with a quickness, that chi-powered fist aimed to plant square in the dictator's face. "BURN KNUCKLE!"
COMBATSYS: Vega blocks Terry's Burn Knuckle.
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Terry 1/------=/=======|=======\-------\1 Vega
Ah, that.. THAT was exhilirating! While the local children seem to be in a wailing fit about the ruined plaything..tough. Sucks to be them. Idiot kids should be making themselves useful, anyway, not playing and LAUGHING and being KIDS. Horrible little monsters, they are. Still, the red-clad beast's feet pull down and dig into the grass as he stops, mostly due to Terry's body slowing from the mass of iron. The movement hardly seems to have affected his charcoal-colored hair much, save for a few strands that defiantly stand away from their slicked bretheren. With Terry down? Well..Vega backs off, then turns, heading toward another favorite; those animal-shaped mounts on springs. Whatever they're called.
He turns at the rhetoric and, at first, Vega opens his mouth to reply. 'It won't happen again' is on his tongue, but the words are held back, begrudgingly. It's quite an effort to keep the "nazi's" ire in check; it's something he's been working on, as it's simply cost him too much as of late. He's ready, though; by the time Terry comes flying at him like some heroic comet, his opponent has his hand out, a slap of flesh meeting flesh evident as he CATCHES the thing, jarring his limb a bit, but escaping the damage of a direct hit. The flame of chi is attempted to be snuffed with a closing of his hand around the "boy's" fist, trying to hold him still as he pluck the springed mount from the ground with a clamor, bolts flying from the ground as the spring is torn from its mooring, with the Shadaloo master's free hand pulling on the small metal handle. As soon as the last of the bolts is loosed, the entire assembly is swung at Terry's head from the side, acting as a makeshift bludgeon.
COMBATSYS: Terry blocks Vega's Random Weapon.
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Terry 1/-----==/=======|=======\=------\1 Vega
There's a moment of surprise as.. well, Vega just simply catches the Burn Knuckles. Catches it and clamps that ham-hock of a fist around his hand. Terry's feet skitter across the ground as he's brought to a sudden stop, just in time to hear the first angry creaks of metal being forcibly removed from the ground. "What in the h--" He's abruptly cut off as a playground rocking horse comes flying straight for his head. His untrapped arm is brought up, bringing it between him and the still-smiling metal toy. He's forced to stagger back a step, though that's as far as he can go, considering Mr. Psycho Power's still got a tight grip on his hand. The metal drags a good few lines across the blonde's forearm, sending thin streamers of blood spiralling down his arm.
There's little room for him to move, at this point, and with Vega still keeping him at close range, it's hard to get the distance he'd need to do just about anything... so, he clamps his other hand on top of the faux-nazi's wrist, then yanks him forward as hard as he can while his right foot comes back up, aiming to plant the trademarked Chuck Taylor logo in the middle of his shoe's sole right into the middle of Vega's face.
COMBATSYS: Terry successfully hits Vega with Grasping Upper.
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Terry 1/---====/=======|=======\====---\1 Vega
Once more, the thud of ..well, now it's rubber against flesh, but the smack is loud. So is the crunch of Vega's nose. The man's arms were crossed as it is, trying to slug Terry with that poor plastic frog, leaving him completely defenseless for the moment. He can SEE the shoe coming. His expression falls to a grimace even before it's hit, the thing approaching as if in slow motion. He should pull back further, let go, and--
The frog, at least, is released, the hand freed to clutch Vega's own nose, a trickle of blood small but steady creeping past his lips and down his chin, and once past THAT length endeavor, dripping onto his shirt. Rushed breath sounds hollow behind his hand, then one large intake before another CRACK sets the nose straightened. There's no yell, here. Most men would simply cry out at having a nose broken and reset. All Vega expels is a sudden chill, a feeling of cold, pure anger and malice. His white eyes now carry a violet tint, tiny whisps of energy creeping from the edges like licks of flame.
That was enough. It's hard to control anger, and Vega really did give it a try. It's just not in him to hold back; it's never helped him before. Now, there IS a yell, a horrible thing as his mouth opens, teeth stained red in the front. He attempts to turn and fling Terry up and away behind him, just long enough for his entire body to secrete that chilling purple energy, a trickle that almost instantly becomes a gout of power, virulent and deadly. No matter where Terry is, whether still in front of him, beside him, or, ideally, falling back to earth, the ground below his is spread out behind in a spray of dirt, once more defying gravity as he holds out his right hand, gushing forth an overabundance of Psycho energy as he spins lengthwise. The ground beneath him is ripped in a narrow trencth, but what awaits Terry and, if all goes well, the entire announcer's table is far more dire.
COMBATSYS: Vega successfully hits Terry with Final Psycho Crusher.
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Terry 2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=------\-------\0 Vega
Once again, the rubber soles clatter against the ground as Terry stumbles backwards, hand finally relased. It takes him a moment to right himself after the momentum of his foot smacking firm against Vega's face to right himself again, and his back foot digs a thin line in the turf as he spins around to face the Shadaloo dictator again. And oh bloody hell, does he have no idea what he's in for.
His legs are tense, heels dug in as he watches the overabundance of Psycho Power manifesting.. what ends up happening is one of the most painful bloody things of his life.
His arms are crossed over his face as the impact of Vega slamming into him, but he's overcome in short order, the force of the Psycho Power blowing him backwards with enough force to hurl him through the air and /through/ the announce table. The wood of the table shatters into splinters and shards as the blonde is driven through it, and he... well, he lays there.
The blonde is prone for a good ten seconds or so before a muffled groan of protest slips past his lips, and... one way or another, he manages to slowly stagger up to his feet. "Well... gotta give you credit. Haven't been bloodied up like this in a long time." He leans forward without even noticing it, looking like he's going to fall over before his feet catch up with the rest of his body, only stumbling forward for a few steps, extracting himself from the announce table.
"You gotta wonder, though.. if Vanessa hadn't been there.." The blonde's head tilts back a bit, and he actually manages to look surprisingly coherent for a moment. "Would you have still won?" Right as he finishes the sentence, his entire body straightens itself up of its own volition, instinct carrying him where his battered mind refuses. He draws his right fist back, cocking like a pistol before his entire right arm near-explodes in an aura of yellow chi. "ARE YOU OKAY!?" A second flash of chi manifests itself against his heels as his body is propelled forward, nearly carried by the fist that is, once again, flying riiiight at Vega's face.
COMBATSYS: Terry can no longer fight.
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COMBATSYS: Vega dodges Terry's Buster Wolf.
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... and it's all in vain as the dictator manages, through voodoo witchcraft, to avoid Terry's last-ditch effort. The blonde's feet clatter across the ground for a moment... and he simply collapses, face-first, to the turf. Out.
Voodoo witchcraft? Well..it can be called that.
After sending Terry into the table, Vega once more lands on his feet, skidding a little, but stopping upright. The outline of violet wanes and then fades altogether, though his eyes retain that creepy glow longer afterwards. "Ignorant punk," he spits, then literally spits, white and red mixed in the lump of saliva that bends down a blade of grass before sinking into the dirt. "If it wasn't her, it would have been something else." Briefly, his hand lifts to his tender nose, and then..well. The boy still has some spirit! That's heartening! ...Just useless. His alert form flickers in a shimmer of purple and green, turning transluscent and then fading altogether in the space of a second. The chi and fist meet with naught but air, and in fact..stopped, an outstretched and large, familiar hand reaching out to catch the blonde by the back of his neck. "But.." comes Vega's voice from behind Terry, "You do have promise." ..Hm. The boy DID once fell Geese, after all. Maybe.. Maybe he can find some use for him? There's a short span where he considers things, even as people from the crowd are shouting at him to release the 'hero'.
Kyo has disconnected.
In spite of the fact that she's just witnessed the very same attack that took Jacob's life, Vanessa is nonetheless true to the duties she's been handed. Which is to say, calling bullshit. Stepping away from the security, though she's largely apprehensive about any further approach, she motions for them to follow her in, her eyes locked on Vega in the interim.
"You heard what I said when this started," she says flatly. "Put him down, fight's over. Get your prize, say your peace, and get the hell outta here. No harm, no foul. BUt whatever you do, put him down."
It's all pretty basic, really. Stated slowly and deliberately. She knows full well that even at the strength he's at now... she's got no chance in hell to take him down without serious injury. And hell, she's still healing from when Daigo beat the hell out of her. Untying the fabric around her neck and pocketing it, if only so there's nothing hanging loose to be grabbed hold of, she makes an addendum. A single word that WOULD carry weight if it were any less a person.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa has joined the fight here.
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Vanessa 0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0 Vega
...What? Slowly, intentionally eerily, Vega turns his head slowly towards Vanessa, the light of his eyes evident even without his cap on to shadow his eyes. His hair is more disshevelled now, but still mostly slicked back. His lips pull wide in a toothy grin as old habits return, half-turning his body toward the woman he threw only a short time ago.
"The fight is over? Why, he's still breathing.." He doesn't care what the people around him thing, or those on TV that'll be watching this. He simply had to test the waters a bit. He hadn't improved much, but..well, beating Terry was a start to reclaim his glory. He would not be trounced so easily ever again. "And YOU," he continues, stepping toward the redhead with Terry still held aloft in his grasp. "Speak rather boldly for someone that ran from me like a coward. ...However.." He lifts Terry higher. "Rules are rules." And with that, he does put Terry down...by swinging him down at Vanessa herself.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa blocks Vega's Random Weapon.
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Vanessa 0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0 Vega
Unlike Terry, she doesn't have nearly the stretch to outright *catch* him-- soften the fall? Sure. Hence the OUTRIGHT PAIN that comes from getting slammed underneath a man who's nearly twice her size in concerns to height an muscle mass. As the both of them collide against the pavement, she can't help the wry smirk that comes of it-- though any cheeky remarks'll be saved for later. For now?
For now, it's clear she's got Problems.
"This how you start -every- fight?" she says, squirming he way out from under the Lone Wolf and getting to her feet, her expression showing some of the apprehension, but most of it's just outright ire. "Really-- guy like you's gotta know how to mix it up just a -little-. But ohhh, no. It's maniacal laugh this, death, destruction and the annihilation of all humankind that--"
Taking a couple crowhops forward, she gears up for what may very well be a Poor Choice of attack. But... god willing, if it -lands-...
COMBATSYS: Vega dodges Vanessa's Puncher Weaving.
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Vanessa 0/-------/-----==|=------\-------\0 Vega
The lash of her fist being met with air, she instantly recoils, her eyes still focussed on the man in front of her.
"As for being a 'coward,'" she goes on to say, "Nothing cowardly about knowing your limits. Hiding behind a bunch of teenagers who look like they should be hanging out downtown picking up tricks? ...C'mon. I don't even -need- to go on about that."
Admittedly, this here..mm. It might offer Vega a bit of CLOSURE. Someone was stupid enough to cause one of his own trouble. Even if he killed that person off...what's it matter? The fact is, she stepped on Shadaloo affairs. That's reason enough to take this nice, orderly fight and ruin it, break the rules, and turn it into his OWN playground. Sure, some people start to leave (some running) as things get out of control, but..like a train wreck, some sheep stay to watch.
The big Lord curls and uncurls his hand after 'dropping' Terry, and the counterassault is, for lack of a better term, laughable. Leaning back, his body drifts just out of range of each punch, still grinning his bloodied grin that seems to grow wider with all of the attempts to verbally abuse him. "Mix it up? Perhaps.." he starts, bringing his right arm back and to the side. Quickly, a pinpoint of violet light explodes into a cloudy ball of corrosive energy, a familiar thing by now to some. Another push of energy drifts his bulk even further back, even as his arm swings forward, answering the meager swings with a large, basketball-like clump of deadly Psycho energy.
COMBATSYS: Vega successfully hits Vanessa with Psycho Shot.
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Vanessa 1/------=/=======|====---\-------\0 Vega
The moment it hits her, Vanessa can feel that ... entirely too irritating tingle along the back of her head. Among, you know, MASSIVE FUCKING PAIN, but that's pretty much a given. Trying to manuever herself in such a way that she gets out of the blast's range, the redhead is nonetheless blown backwards by it. A meager attack by Vega's standards, but to her? To -her-, it's like something's ripping through her synapses at the same time. Dizzying enough to throw her off her feet, -painful- enough to make her wonder if enacting an assault of -any- kind is wise.
Sitting idly by isn't wise, either, girl.
Gritting her teeth, she sprints to cover the distance, her determination to at least land -one- clean hit sitting front and center in her mind. That said... the first punch made towards his sternum is meant to throw him off and, hopefully, set him up for an out-and-out shitkicking.
COMBATSYS: Vega blocks Vanessa's Champion Puncher.
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Vanessa 0/-------/-------|=====--\-------\0 Vega
The one hit fails to land on anything with a -give-, but by god, she's determined. Her fists rain down against the Shadaloo Lord, her determination doing little to put a dent in his guard-- much less his health. Once the attack is concluded with an attempted uppercut, she takes a couple steps back, breathing slowly. She's still off-kilter from the hit she -did- take-- and their proximity, combined with a feeble guard, is NOT gonna make evading anything else easy.
How's that for 'mixing it up', then? Vega allows himself to root himself to the spot and take in a deep breath, his fingers still flexing the tension from themselves after forming and holding such a large concentration of energy. If it tingled or hurt, the sensation has long since passed, washed away by the joy of seeing the smartass get just what was coming to her. Still..she's still standing, something he SHOULDN'T be too surprised by, and consciously disallows himself to be set off-guard by.
So, when Vanessa comes in for the retaliation, he's prepared. Both hands move in front of him, stopping fists with hands, bracers, and all parts of his arms. The uppercut is mostly evaded with a quick jerk of his head to the side, her knuckles passing skin, but the thumbnail..mm. A small streak of red lines his face vertically from where it scraped, marring his HANDSOME visage. .... Oh, that ain't good. With a angry snarl, Vega doesn't allow much distance to be kept between the two. His right hand is lifted and already coming down in a fist..but along the way, it ignites with a violet flame-like casing, thick enough to leave a swath of power in its wake. This time, instead of simply bathing his opponent in the energy, he actively tries to punch in a heavy, downward swing, right for that mop of red hair.
COMBATSYS: Vega successfully hits Vanessa with Psycho Vanish.
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Vanessa 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Vega
It hits, alright.
The fist pounds straight into the side of her head, causing Vanessa to once again be thrown bodily towards the ground, though she's got enough energy left in her to catch herself with her hands. Even if it's shortlived-- her elbows buckle, and her body sags against the ground for a couple seconds, her vision completely hazed by the concussion-inducing blow. SHaking her head and trying like hell to clear out the haze, she uses the position she's in for what little advantage she can see. He -did-, in a sense, overextend himself, after all.
Therefor, with him nearby, she snaps upwards with surprising speed and, hopefully, -force-. The resultant uppercut meant to hit him square in the jaw is as precise as she can make it with her vision swimming as much as it is, but she doesn't hold out nearly as much hope as she could. He's proven himself to swat aside even her fastest attacks-- now? ...Well. Now all she can do is reconsider religion, just so she can have her prayers answered.
COMBATSYS: Vega dodges Vanessa's Dash Puncher.
[ \\\\\\\\\\\ < > ////////// ]
Vanessa 0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\0 Vega
"What's wrong?" comes the loud, obviously mocking voice from above Vanessa as Vega looks down on her, pathetic little loud-mouthed tramp that she is. Didn't she say she would intervene, to stop him in cases of bullshittery? Idiots. What amateurish event would have such weak guards? Hell, even Terry, who's lying flat out on the ground, could have POSSIBLY done the job of enforcing if he was already facing another capable front, but..this.. What is this?
And fast? Well..he's already proven himself to be inhuman. The trick to avoid the Buster Wolf, alone, punctuates that. Overextended or not, Lord Vega doesn't need much time to recover, and that's why, when the woman's uppercut comes in? He can deal with it. This, at least, was exhilirating. Overcoming a tough opponent is one thing, crushing someone is quite another! He's not above enjoying this. His tremendous bulk, it seems, can MOVE. Moving /rather/ quickly aside, the fist greatly disturbs the air before her, but little else. Before it has a chance to pull down, Vega is RIGHT at her side, his armored knee already lifting in a swift stike toward her midsection.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa endures Vega's Dead Rise.
[ \\\\\ < > ///////// ]
Vanessa 1/-----==/=======|=======\=------\1 Vega
And then, Vega does..god. He does a SPLIT as his leg that connected with Vanessa lifts up, holding her aloft on his foot. He allows her to dangle there, just for a second, before swinging down, not only allowing the woman to return to earth..but with the help of his heel digging into her stomach.
Given the insane amount of speed the man puts into it, Vanessa just seems to -take- it -- even with the building ire at the condescending question she's been asked. As his knee slams plainly into her side and the both of them go upwards into the air, the resultant crash is met with an obvious yelp-- though, surprisingly, she has enough energy in her to start scrambling back to her feet as she watches the Shadaloo Lord in front of her. Bloodied, bruised... well. She's not doing too hot right about now, and it shows. Last legs, and all that. There's still -some- fight in her, -that- much is plain. What she needs now is -one- stroke of luck.
"You know," she says, her tone feeble, "...people like you..." A light chuckle. "So goddamn sad. Sure, you've got all the power in the world-- but come -on-. What idiot in their right -mind- dresses the way you do? Come to think of it, who in their right mind would follow some bull-headed, halfwit megalomaniac who looks like he came straight outta the set've Flash Gorden?" ...The laughter continues-- not so much a last ditch effort to 'land a moral victory.' Just... "...just like I said to Jake... nothing but a goddamn joke."
And, that said... she darts in to try... -TRY- and pull off one last assault. In this case, it comes in the form of a lunge that, if it connects, will take him straight down to the ground.
COMBATSYS: Vanessa can no longer fight.
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
COMBATSYS: Vega dodges Vanessa's Crazy Puncher.
[ \\\\\\\\\ <
Instead? She's met with humiliation. Kind of.
Toppling over and skidding to a dead halt, she's not quiet down for the count yet. Well... -down-, but not completely unconscious. Smiling weakly, she rolls over to her side, that grin showing a crass kind of humor to it.
"...just a fuckin' joke," is added, then, a breath drawn in as she lays still, trying to recouperate from the numerous injuries.
Luck? Pff. The chance never comes, as once more, Vega endures the little game, doing his best to make Vanessa's efforts seem all the more wasted. She's struggling, obviously, and what did it get her? Simply beaten up. Tch.
"Pathetic, useless fool," Vega taunts, lifting his foot and, in quite the display of sportsmanship, brings his foot down on the back of Vanessa's head, pushing it into the dirt, grinding his heel into that irritatingly lively hair. The torture is short-lived, though. That done, the man WALKS across her body, back toward the forest, where his Dolls are waiting. At least, this time, things were entertaining and, in a twisted way, fruitful. No sense in killing off now what may be further entertainment or, in Terry's case, something useful later.
Log created by Duck, and last modified on 11:52:38 08/03/2005.