SNF 2005.10 - Foxy vs Acacia

Description: Acacia eventually outmuscles Foxy in this close bout staged in the Shrine. (Winner: Acacia)

Unlike most of the Saturday Night Fights, this one is apparently staged in an area that's more suited for tranquility. Whoever thought it up was clearly hellbent on being sacreligious, though the woman that approaches the set arena doesn't seem too disturbed by this fact. Respect is granted when there's a reason for it-- and really, there's no such thing as sacred ground so far as she's concerned.
Given the chill in the air, the full ensemble that's marked her as unique is put into play, though her hair remains bound. After all, the more the fight progresses, the less need there'll be to ward off the crisp breeze.
For now, Foxy's more than happy to bring a pristine white cloth to the ruby-coloured blade of her rapier, eyes quietly scanning the crowd that surrounds her in the midst of the announcers quailings. It's the usual standard-- sensationalized buzzwords spoken emphatically, catering to the audience's already piqued adrenaline in the midst of seeing an all-out fight. Unlike others, she's not here to compete; she's here to analyze.
Once she's finished cleaning the blade, she places the small rag along one of her beltloops, the weapon remaining unsheathed as she waits for the arrival of her opponent. It's been a while since she's bothered with this kind of thing; should be interesting to see the calibre of person she's been pitted against.

Calibre? Nine milimetre. It's a practical one. NATO standard.
Or at least, that's what Acacia'd think if the question were posed. Because she's a practical sort. The whole media circus surrounding this fight, the usual feeding frenzy of the SNF crowds and cameras...they mean nothing to her.
No. She's here for the challenge. To hone her skills. To /fight/, not to entertain.
Acacia comes walking up the path leading to the shrine, her boots grinding against the weathered stones. A camera crew trails in her wake as she approaches - but she ignores them, much as she does the spectators. Blocking out the sight and sounds. Staring straight ahead...
...making eye contact with Foxy as she nears.
Acacia steps into the shrine ground proper, the open space before the main structure, standing feet spread on the flagstones. She stretches, pulling her arms back, her leather jacket crinkling with the movement. She cricks her neck, works her shoulders, then...silently arches an eyebrow at her opponent.

Ah, good. Someone who isn't about to waste time with posturing or random blather. That's a welcome sign in and of itself.
Granting the girl a brief nod of her head, the Spaniard assumes her usual stance, her gaze failing to break contact with Acacia's the moment it's established. And while there's something to be said for silence, there's something to be said for respect as well.
"While I've heard little of your reputation amongst the professionals that all but litter the streets here," she says calmly, "I look forward to the outcome of this engagement."
And that's about it. Otherwise, she makes no move to initiate-- she merely stays where she is, rapier trained to point straight at her opponent, her expression as indifferent as it ever was. It'd be difficult not to notice the scrutiny that's being put forth, the scientist already making it a point to poke holes in the girl's defenses without so much as making a move. A common tactic; whether or not it'll bear fruit is another story entirely.

COMBATSYS: Foxy has started a fight here.

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Foxy             0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Acacia has joined the fight here.

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Acacia           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0             Foxy

COMBATSYS: Foxy focuses on her next action.

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Acacia           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0             Foxy

Acacia snorts. Heard little about her, huh? Well. That's fine. The whole public fame aspect of the fighting business has never sat well with her. She's been on the fighting circuit for a while, but she's never cared for tournaments and events.

(Of course, she -has- fought in -some-, enough that some loons in the spectator stands directly behind her are waving a big banner with her name on it...but Acacia's doing her best to ignore that.)

She smiles, thinly. It's not much of a smile, just a faint twitch of the lip. "I'm sure," Acacia says, in a dry, quiet voice.
A moment's pause, as Acacia rotates her arm at the shoulder, with a faint sound. Then she tilts her head.
There's a slight touch of humour in the question. Sarcasm, anyway. Because that's when Acacia -moves-. Her rearmost foot pounds the earth, hard. Pushing off, she dives forward, lunging at Foxy, leading with her knuckles.
If Foxy's looking at Acacia's style...well. It's not an elegant display. A punch. Simple. Direct.
But then, Acacia thinks, too. And this is what we call, in the business, a probing attack.

COMBATSYS: Foxy counters Strong Punch from Acacia with Seven Cycles.

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Acacia           0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0             Foxy

With one fluid motion, Foxy brings her rapier upwards in a sharp arc to deflect the attack, the tip of the sword dragging up along the girl's front to tear through clothing and skin alike. What's left behind is a bright crimson gouge trailing up her sternum, the likes of which is... well. It needn't be said. It's a big friggin gash for god's sake; it's gonna hurt.
Easing back as she retains her posture, she cants her head to the side, indifference still fully asserted. "I'd like to think that adequately answers your question," she says simply, readying herself for the next onslought-- after all, this is only the barest beginnings, and the girl is young. To assume she's in the clear would be foolhardy.

Acacia gives a small hiss of exhaled breath, air spilling from her lungs. Not voluntarily, too, considering the fresh blood oozing from her new cut. She lands awkwardly, spilling to the ground beside the swordswoman - though Acacia turns the fall into a roll, moving past her. Wincing, she comes up on one knee, and glares.
"Wasn't a multiple-choice question," she mutters, rising to her feet.
Acacia's not exactly an intimidating person. At least on the face of things. Five feet tall, ninety pounds, sloppily dressed in jacket, t-shirt, and jeans. She doesn't cut an imposing figure, especially next to Foxy. Not with the woman's aristocratic air and elegant finery.
But it seems nobody's told /Acacia/ that she's not supposed to be scary.
Because when she stands, she stays where she is, hands raised, clenched into fists. Her eyes hard, flashing from behind strands of silver hair.

COMBATSYS: Acacia focuses on her next action.

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Acacia           0/-------/------=|-------\-------\0             Foxy

Fair enough.
The girl's got a good head on her shoulders, at the very least; 'intimdation' factor and all, she has yet to resort to insults or overt sarcasm, the rueful comment aside. It's enough to keep Foxy's overall respect from diminishing, though she doesn't seem to make any immediate move to close the distance between the both of them. Quietly withdrawing a small metallic object from her belt, the swordswoman turns to face her opponent only once her arm comes around in a fast motion, a flicker of light hitting the surface of the object as it rushes towards Acacia.
Should it meet its mark, the effect is immediate-- the object latches into the trench gouged into Acacia's chest, administering a sharp electric shock before detonation-- a concussive blast that should not only send the poor girl sailing, but drop her guard that much more. It's a bit of a risk in and of itself-- the trained action takes a bit more focus than necessary, but she'll make up for it in the end. At least, that's the intent.

COMBATSYS: Foxy successfully hits Acacia with Horn of the Unicorn.

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Acacia           0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0             Foxy

Acacia's eyes narrow - only to widen, fractionally, as the projectile shoots towards her. She moves, throwing herself forward, and to the side. But not, alas, fast enough. The device hits Acacia, its concussive discharge throwing up a new spray of blood, twisting her face into a rictus of agony.
But she's still on her feet. Her momentum carrying her forward. Unsteadily, perhaps, muscles and nerves spasming from the assault. But still on her feet.
And that's what counts.
Acacia's heart pounds in her chest - but she forces it down, stills herself with an effort of will. Controlling her pulse, her breathing, forcing a veneer of calm.
And, steeling herself, Acacia regains her balance, -pushing- herself to cross the distance separating her from Foxy. The look on her face isn't an expression of pain anymore, but rather sheer unadulterated bloody-mindedness.
As she nears, she whips her arms up, the palm of one hand bracing the fist of another - turning her forearms into a solid bar of bone, an elbow pistoning towards Foxy's gut.

COMBATSYS: Acacia successfully hits Foxy with Mass Driver.

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Acacia           0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0             Foxy

The sheer determination Acacia shows in the attack pays off in the end-- the moment she whips around to slam her elbow into Foxy's abdomen comes too quickly for her to do much of anything about it, the landed blow causing a sharp, audible exhalation, though no immediate sound comes out of her. Impacting heavily with the ground, she doesn't take any time to recover-- she simply rolls to her side and immediately gets to her feet, though it's a staggered motion. Her breathing is shallow for the moment, the attention she has to afford to her equilibrium going above and beyond the call of duty.
"Well met," she says, her voice vaguely hoarse, if not a bit forced. It should be clear that, while she's fast enough to deliver a great deal of damage, she's not built to take hits in return. But-- she seems to be dealing with it reasonably well.
That being said, she uses what proximity is still available to thrust her rapier forwards, attempting to dig the blade into Acacia's shoulder with a swift strike. Should it impact, the weapon is pivoted once for the sake of severing tendons, or at least making use of the girl's left arm a bit more difficult. The more the fight goes on, the more Foxy intends on disabling her opponent more than anything else; though whether or not it works remains to be seen.

COMBATSYS: Acacia counters Medium Strike from Foxy with Icon of Stone.

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Acacia           0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1             Foxy

"Thank you," Acacia says, quite sincerely.
She sounds strangely relaxed, oddly at ease, for someone with a sword rammed into their body.
But that's probably because the sword isn't all the way into her shoulder. The weapon slices through her jacket, yes, tearing through the tough leather and its lining, parting the fabric of Acacia's t-shirt, piercing her skin, drawing blood...
...but it stops there.
Held in check by the fingers of a slender hand, wrapped around the blade. Fresh blood oozes between -those- fingers, because catching a sword isn't an easy thing. But the injury, such as it is...merely cosmetic.
And now that they're locked in close proximity, Acacia allows herself a little smile---
---before using her -other- hand to slug Foxy in the face.

This is likely the only moment in which Foxy's expression registers genuine surprise. The indifference bleeds away as the girl takes a firm hold of the rapier, the incoming blow met with nothing but a nonplussed expression in the split second before it lands. If the thoughtbubble of 'oh shit' could appear over someone's head, it would be right here and now. Sent right back towards the ground in a decidedly less than graceful fashion, she manages to keep a firm grip on her rapier, the taste of blood invading her mouth almost instantly.
Blood from her nose-- and likely from her lip wrapping around one of her teeth.
Better to be careful from here on out.
Moving like she's going to get back up to her feet, the motion changes mid-roll -- grabbing at one of the larger rocks near her hand, she turns her body to throw it straight towards the other woman, determined to put some space between the both of them as she plans for her next attack, her breathing coming heavily through taxed airways. The object here is to simply -not- get hit again-- or rather, the hope. Slim as it might be.

COMBATSYS: Acacia negates Thrown Object from Foxy with Thrown Object.

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Acacia           0/-------/--=====|=======\-------\1             Foxy

As Foxy fall back, Acacia releases her grip on the sword, letting the blade slip from her own blood-slicked fingers. She isn't about to get into a tug-of-war over the weapon - especially since she's holding the wrong end.
Acacia watches, with sharp eyes, tracking Foxy's movements. Her face an impassive mask, betraying nothing. The girl watches as her opponent rolls to the side, heaving...a -rock- at her.
Acacia arches an eyebrow, her iron visage cracking a little. The whole stone-throwing thing seems rather out of character, given the technological stunner the woman used, her sword...and the whole elegance of her dress and bearing.
She doesn't -say- anything, though. The raised brow is comment enough.
Acacia makes no move to dodge. She stands her ground, instead, tensing...
Wait for it, wait for it.
She stamps down, -hard-, driving a heavy booted foot into the shrine flagstones. Her heel hits the ground, splintering granite - and she sweeps it around, sending the larger chunks in a spray in front of her. Rock meets rocks, and it all rains down around Acacia, showering her in dust.
She snorts.

Sometimes desperation makes for odd attack methods. In this case, it's a matter of gaining distance-- and the time required to fetch another one of those 'stunners' isn't necessarily afforded to her. Still, she can't help but be impressed by Acacia's response to the attack, a slow raise of her own eyebrow showing this more than anything. This is, however, getting trickier than it should be.
Taking in a slow breath, she steels herself for her next assault, determined, at this point, to see the intended attack through for what it is. Having raised to her feet well before the rock was obliterated by that one swift movement, she's able to dart in a couple heartbeats afterwards, allowing an opening in her defenses as she shifts her stance towards offense. Striking out with her rapier, she appears to be going in for another quick jab-- until she ducks down. What happens next? Well-- the future is fluid. The outcome remains to be seen.

COMBATSYS: Acacia endures Foxy's Planunium.

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Acacia           1/-------/=======|=======\=------\1             Foxy

Snapping right back up in a flurry of motion, Foxy brings herself-- and consequently, her rapier-- around in two swift arcs, the blade catching Acacia once on across the abdomen and against along her chest, criss-crossing with the gash that's already present. Hissing out a breath as her muscles complain at the effort, the scientist comes out of it facing away from her opponent in a crouched position, her eyes immediately going over her shoulder to watch the girl carefully.

Blood sprays, crimson droplets flying in an arc, splattering on the once-sacred ground of the shrine. It's a dramatic moment, one that gives the spectators watching this clash...reason to pause. Dramatic and gory, with the ragged X now carved through Acacia's T-shirt, the garment and her skin beneath soaked with sweat and blood.
The impact, the force of the assault, knocks Acacia back.
Back. But not down.
Her boots scrape across the rough surface of the shrine floor. But the grip holds, keeping Acacia on her feet. Score one for the virtues of combat boots. There's a reason why Acacia wears the things, and it's not to make a fashion statement.
Then her eyes open.
It -has- to hurt. It -must-. Yet there's not a trace of pain on her face - it's a rigid, unreadable mask.
Her fists clench, tightening into white-knuckled shapes of bone.
She doesn't ignore the pain, though. She -uses- it.
Everything's a weapon, if you wield it right.
Many fighters have energy attacks. Supernatural displays of light, of flame, coherent manifestations of the power flowing through their veins.
Acacia's never really mastered that. She has the potential, and she has the energy. Lots of it. But she's never been able to direct her chi in a truly controlled manner.
Of course...
...she's perfectly capable of directing it in an -uncontrolled manner-.
Her little display in her last SNF match worked against her. But this time, no. Not this time.
Not with the pain to give her focus.
Acacia -explodes-. Or rather, the space around her does, pure concussive energy rippling out from her body in all directions, surrounding her in a spherical shockwave. The waves of force distort the air...and the ground beneath her feet -shatters-, the shrine stones dissolving into a hail of shrapnel.


[OOC] Foxy ...whistles.

COMBATSYS: Acacia successfully hits Foxy with Irresistible Force.

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Acacia           0/-------/-------|=======\======-\1             Foxy

Bringing up her sword to try and block the worst of the intended damage, Foxy is taken aback by the sheer force of the explosion, her eyes shut tight as she feels the searing edge of that blast. The rest brings out a sudden expulsion of sound from her, the shout too sudden to be held back with any manner of concentration. She's too worn down at this point to care much about her pride, though pride has never been the issue; attacks hurt. That's just the end of it. Crying out in pain has never been seen as a personal failing; especially not in cases like these.
You'd think NESTS would've made her better equipt to deal with things like this. But no; with her primary function being that of a doctor and a scientist, it's not as though combat training is first and foremost. It's simply a requirement she doesn't agree with and thus, seeks to rectify to make encounters such as these less... painful.
Digressions aside, she somehow manages to stay on her feet, even if she's forced back a good four paces before her momentum comes to a halt. Shuddering, she keeps her eyes trained on the woman in front of her, still as careful as ever to see what she can do by way of retaliation. Once again, she may find herself in one hell of a bind; on the other hand, it could work out to her benefit in the end. And really, there's no time like the present to do something unbelievably chancey.
Leaping into the air, she brings her body around in a sudden burst of momentum, an arcing silver light coming down to slam in front of Acacia with a surprising amount of force behind it. It... just barely meets its mark. Either she's more fatigued than she's letting on, or simply bleary eyed.
More likely... it's the prelude to something more fierce. There's a rumbling underfoot, followed immediately thereafter by bright, luminescent spikes of azure energy pistoning out of the ground and racing towards the girl's back, each wave meant to plow into her, sending her forward bit by bit until it's all over. The moment Foxy lands, she's back on the defense, even if that -did- take entirely too much out of her. With her breathing that much heavier, she makes it a point to remain steady, though there's vague tremors that erupt along her shoulders. For how much damage she's taken, she doesn't seem all that winded, per se... which says something about her own determination.

COMBATSYS: Acacia fails to counter Prayer of the Planet from Foxy with Unyielding Stance.

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Acacia           0/-------/---====|=====--\-------\0             Foxy

Acacia's not someone easy to rattle. But now, for the first time in this fight, she feels a spark of alarm. Not a small spark, either, but one quickly blazing into a wildfire...
Right about the time that first blast of power hits.
And hit it does, each successive spike of force tearing into Acacia's body, tossing her around like a broken doll in the hands of a petulant child. And when it's finally over, she collapses, falling to the ground, in a messy tangle of blood and limbs.
She breathes, heavily, the very act of pushing air through her lungs...bringing a new surge of agony. She feels it now, oh yes, every hurt, every wound.
"Nngggh," Acacia whispers, as she struggles, trying to stand, on hands and knees.

At last-- some success. Much less a reprieve. Unfortunately, this means that her next move has to be planned out carefully.
Without a word or even a show of pride, given how close to the wire this bout has gotten, Foxy does what she can to size up the situation. So far, this has been a very unique test of her abilities; while Acacia outdoes her in raw physical strength, it's tactics that she'll have to undertake if she has any hope of winning this. Thankfully... that last attack has never failed her-- at least, it hasn't yet.
She doesn't wait for Acacia to get her bearings back-- instead, she simply leaps back into the air, determined to bear down on the other girl with another sweeping arc of her sword, intent on battering through the last of the defenses that remain. That's the hope, of course-- whether or not the bright trail of silver energy, followed as it is by the intended impact of the blade, actually meets its intended target is entirely up in the air. Assuming she's not in any way interrupted, however... Foxy lands, slow-gaining fatigue finally creeping up on her.

COMBATSYS: Acacia blocks Foxy's Silver Moon.

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Acacia           0/-------/--=====|=====--\-------\0             Foxy

It's creeping up on Acacia too. Of course it is. This match has been brutal - to both combatants.
But Acacia's still got fight in her. And she's not about to give up.
The blade descends, in a glittering arc. Steel meets flesh. And bone. That of a rigid forearm, interposed between her body and the sword, sparks of silver light searing the jacket sleeve, a crazy-quilt of clashing bright.
With a growl, Acacia shoves the sword aside, leaving the ground in a lunge just short of a leap. Foxy's attack seemingly galvanising Acacia into action. One denim-clad knee ascending, blasting forward.

COMBATSYS: Foxy blocks Acacia's Light Kick.

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Acacia           0/-------/-======|======-\-------\0             Foxy

This is turning into a game of risks.
Raising her rapier, Foxy manages to successfully deflect the attack's damage, though her arms are jarred in the process. The *clang* of Acacia's foot meeting the broadside of metal resounds throughout the area, the audience moving in a bit closer to watch the fight carefully. It's as cut-throat as possible without the two combatents showing that much passion-- which, really, could be enough reason to prompt more intrigue. They're both on their last legs, and neither are so much as close to giving in.
Least of all Foxy. While she could take the time and patience to gather her strength, she instead lunges forward, bringing herself around in a sweeping arc that'll land yet another gash across Acacia's body, this one intersecting with the wound along her abdomen. If anything, the girl may very well have a nice collection of scars once all of this is over. But then, given a fighter's healing rates...

COMBATSYS: Acacia counters Medium Strike from Foxy with Icon of Stone.

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Acacia           0/-------/-======|=======\-------\1             Foxy won't really leave a mark at all.
Acacia's already got a nice collection of scars. There's a reason she wears bulky clothes with full legs and long sleeves.
But most of those injuries...are old. Very old. From before she had the amazing constitution she has now, forged by years of hard training.
So piddling little injuries like -these-...well, in perspective? They don't matter.

They really don't.
The blade doesn't land. At least, not where Foxy intended it to be. Acacia slams her forearm into the flat of the sword as it descends, -knocking- it out of position in an explosive display of speed. And with that weapon out of place, Foxy's guard is gone. Which Acacia takes advantage of, to the fullest. By the simple expedient of driving her -other- arm into the woman's neck. Elbow-first.

And once again... Foxy finds herself in a position that's impossible to get out of.
The same second that elbow comes against her windpipe, Foxy has to fight for every bit of air she can get. The sudden, hoarse drag of oxygen through her throat is audible enough to make it obvious how much that did to her, the force of her body colliding with the ground only serving to wind her further. Notably... while she -could- give in to circumstance and simply let herself falter to what's been dealt to her...
Well... the way this fight is going, it's invigorated her competative sense as well. And thus... there's only one proper response to all of this.

COMBATSYS: Foxy can no longer fight.

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

COMBATSYS: Acacia blocks Foxy's Poetry of Cygnus.

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Acacia           0/-------/=======|

While the attack may very well meet an unfortunate end, Foxy's motions are nothing short of determined. Even with the fatigue she's experiencing, combined as it is with the utter lack of air getting into her lungs, she throws herself into a whirlwind of attacks that carry an inordinant amount of grace. While her speed's been compromised, her skill hasn't-- each slice of the rapier is well-timed, even if it doesn't land as it should. Once the volley of slices comes to an end, the scientist falls to her knees, the rapier clattering to a halt a mere two feet from her position. It's only now that she pays attention to the splintering pain rushing up through her throat, though the rest of her body is complaining in equal measure. Undignified as it is to be brought to this position, she has no choice but to try and recover-- if not hold her consciousness together.

And only when Foxy falls...does Acacia let herself relax. Barely resisting the urge to collapse, -herself-. She sways, on unsteady legs, before stiffening. And lowering her arms, her jacket sleeves sliced to shreds by the collision between Foxy's final assault...and her own blocking move.
Acacia watches the woman, warily, waiting for her to get up.
And when she doesn't, that's when Acacia lets go of the last vestige of tension, exhaling, shoulders slumping.
In the background, she hears an SNF announcer calling out her name. But she ignores that, pushes it aside, along with the roar of the crowd. It doesn't matter.
No. It doesn't.
Acacia walks forward, then crouches, kneeling by Foxy's side.
In a passible impersonation of a certain male fighter's voice, she asks, "Are you okay?"

Raising her hand to dismiss the concern, Foxy doesn't respond verbally for a moment or two. She knows her voice is likely to be damaged for a couple days thanks to the elbow to her throat, but with NESTS' ability to heal such damage, it won't be too much of an issue. In the here and how, however, that high-tongued, vaguely accented voice is gravelly. Winded.
"I require no medical attention," she says, raising slowly to her feet, though it takes her a moment so as not to stumble. Not too dramatically, anyway. Breathing evenly, forcing herself to simply deal with the injuries instead of fall prey to them, the scientist manages to maintain her position, seeming a bit more put-together than she should be for how weary she looks. Mind over matter; forcibly overriding nerves and muscle aches.
"The fray was well worth the injuries acquired," she concedes, turning her eyes towards the girl. "In that... I hope to someday meet you in a manner such as this a second time. We balance one another out rather well."

Acacia takes a step back, giving Foxy space to stand. She listens, head cocked, then inclines her head in a nod. That moment of sass having passed, she's really quite solemn, now. Acknowledging the sentiment with perfect seriousness.
Though she does give a tiny little smile. Barely visible, but a smile nonetheless.

Log created by Foxy, and last modified on 10:09:58 10/31/2005.