Neo League 476 - #492: Rolento vs Acacia

Description: Piracy on the high seas! Only instead of 'piracy' we have 'major league ass-kicking!' (Winner: Acacia)

In the course of her fighting career, Acacia's travelled to many nations. Like any well-heeled fighter, her passport has enough stamps to make an airport immigration officer bleed from the eyeballs. That's the lifestyle, after all. Become a fighter, see the world, meet new people, punch them. Sometimes the truisms actually /are/ true.

This time, though, things are...slightly diferent.

A breeze runs through her hair, blowing stray strands across her face. The wind whips her collar up, as well, stirring the fabric of her jacket. Acacia gives a small shake of the head, squinting her eyes against the glare of the sun. Subtly, she shifts her footing, changing her weight - grounding her feet firmly upon the wooden planks beneath her boots. But really, there's only so much you can do when you're standing right in the open...while you're standing on shifts with the waves.

Some people love the sea. Acacia's always found it more of an annoyance. A bright blue sky overhead, with an expanse of water clear to the might be picturesque, sure, but /floating around/ on top of that water is hell on manuevers and stability. Especially when all you've got keeping you from sinking is a glorified raft lashed together from wood and improvised flotation devices - honest-to-god oil drums.

She sighs.

Of course, the /reason/ this particular Neo League match needs to take place all the way out /here/ her opponent. The infamous Rolento Schugerg. Visionary terrorist, megalomaniac mercenary, global insurgent ... and just generally a guy who wanders around with a big ol'army in tow. For rather obvious reasons, a man who's not generally welcome in pretty much ANY country upon the face of the Earth.

Which is why this fight is all the way out in international waters.

Acacia sighs again. Ah well.

Indeed, this encounter has more amused Rolento then anything; His publicity is foul in all but the Middle Eastern countries, and others who tend to have unruly governments, the preyed on, and those who simply refuse to be trodden upon. The narrow minded analysis of Interpol and the global powers does little more then conceal his true threat and charisma, something readily accepted. Ignorance can be one's friend. ...But in the recent weeks, he has noticed a fighter not visited in years. Acacia Gillespie; In another life a potential recruit, but in this one mayhaps a lost cause.
That hardly makes her less interesting to investigate in terms of fighting potential, however.
Yet while many helicopters circle, capturing the motion from a safe distance long learned by the community when Rolento Schugerg opts to fight, it might appear he's going to be late. That's never happened he has been punctual to the second in all his encounters thus far. Easily explained when the water crests, a massive dark shape rising only a couple dozen meters from the dingy of a raft. Breaking the waves in a froth of white water is the top of an old submarine, the hatch immediately opening in a hiss of stale air. Raising out from within is Rolento Schugerg, resting his baton upon one shoulder.
"It has been some time." is mused opposite. He flips forward, spiraling sideways and scarcely clearing the endless blue, to land in a rather abrupt and shaky thud upon the boat. Once he stands anew he seems almost unaffected by the pitching, but his control and precision has always been one of his greatest strengths. "How has your war been?" His weapon is twirled a moment, glove then tightened with a free hand. "For those born of conflict are forever restless outside it!"

Acacia quirks an eyebrow. She looks first at the uniform-clad man standing opposite her, across the makeshift raft. Then she turns her gaze to the bulk of the submarine beyond him. Truth be told, she was expecting the traditional helicopter, a manner of arrival that's come to be associated with the militant fighter. It seems, though, that Rolento Schugerg is a man of resources.

His other car's a submarine.

She snorts faintly, a quiet release of breath, giving a small - almost imperceptable - shake of the head. She returns her attention to the man himself, locking gazes with him. Her expression is still, calm. The last time they met face to face, Acacia was got angry, riled. She doesn't particularly like this Rolento...

...but that's no reason not to be civil, in the here and now.

Her eyes narrow, fractionally, though her composure remains. War?

"Guessing," Acacia murmurs, "not a fan of Lennon."

Give Peace a Chance.

"There is nothing wrong with desiring peace." Rolento states, with the sharp authoritive tone that is better suited for a harsh drill instructor. "Yet wishing and hoping are illogical. Humans are beasts that must be cowed like any other." Slowly he flows into a loose stance, spreading his feet to gain a better position upon the haphazard terrain of the boat. It's doubtfully going to survive the battle, but a wet Acacia might help ratings. ...A little. Maybe? "Yet we did not meet here to argue philosophy. You made your beliefs quite clear in our prior encounter." And then he tenses up, flowing back his baton like a serpent before mulling a single word, always the herald of violence. "Ready?" With that he lunges forward, twisting around and lashing the weapon backwards with a rather startling amount of force; The blow aimed towards her chest, intended to stagger backwards with no small amount of force. Hesitating even a moment costs one initiative... And he has no compunctions about pressing the advantage in an already uneven fight!

COMBATSYS: Rolento has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Rolento          0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Acacia has joined the fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Acacia           0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0          Rolento

COMBATSYS: Acacia endures Rolento's Fierce Strike.

[    \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Acacia           0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0          Rolento

The baton crashes across Acacia's ribcage, a ringing crack of bone. But the impact, forceful as it is, doesn't seem to faze the girl. Oh it /hurts/ certainly - she can't entirely keep the twitch from her face, the curve from her lips. Or the quick hiss of escaping breath. But that air leaves her lungs on her own terms, rather than being forced from it. And she doesn't yield beneath the onslaught. Her combat boots slam into the surface of the raft, hard enough that she splinters the wood. Transferring a portion of the absorbed energy, just enough to keep her upright and stable, instead of reeling backwards from the blow.

Enough for Acacia to whip her own arm up in a quick and simple counterpunch, plunging her curled left fist low towards the man's abdomen.

Many female fighters are all about the showmanship, of the flash, but Acacia's always been eminently practical. Pity, really. Any wetness and sodden clothes, in her case, probably wouldn't spike the ratings /that/ much.

As she strikes, she speaks, just one word:


COMBATSYS: Rolento dodges Acacia's Strong Punch.

[    \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Acacia           0/-------/-----==|-------\-------\0          Rolento

The rather rapid response is met only with a smirk, and as her fist lashes out it's met with Rolento's own journey upwards, lunging off the ground and twisting away from the punch; Which for all her effort misses by a slim margin, the mercenary wriggling like a fish in the air. He can easily be seen smirking beneath his crimson beret, trying to grasp hold of the slender girl by the neck as he shifts past; To plant both feet into the boat thereafter and wrench her around, with enough force to send her through the air with ease if she's caught off-guard. Trying to indent the rugged vessel with her, likely with no lack of loud crack. Even if he has no walls to rebound off, he's damnably acrobatic. "Then let us proceed!" is his only addendum, although regardless of success he'd put some respectful distance between himself and the other girl, with barely a glance to the slowly rolling sea behind. His submarine remains bobbing at the surface, but by now is a good fifty yards away.

COMBATSYS: Acacia fails to interrupt Medium Throw from Rolento with Quick Punch.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Acacia           0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0          Rolento

Acacia's feeling awfully submarine-like, as it happens. Of the submarine sandwich variety. Toasted, smeared, and eaten.

The comparison flickers through her head, though she doesn't dwell on it. There's plenty of other sensations vying for attention in her head, like pain from a distinctly abused cranium. Perhaps the beginnings of a mild concussion, even through her amazingly hard skull. The world swims for a moment, a blurred wash of color, as she forces her eyes to focus. She coughs, too, spitting phlegm - her neck and windpipe abused by the grip of Rolento's fingers.

She tried to interrupt that throw. To smash an arm in, breaking the soldier's stride. But no. He was fast. Too fast.

Splinters of wood slew off Acacia's battered green jacket as she hauls herself upright. Rising on elbow and knee, then back to her feet, working for balance on the shifting surface of the raft - a raft swaying badly in the wake of her hammer-blow impact. She doesn't need to look to know... that if that landing had been just a fraction harder, she'd have gone /through/ the wood and firmly into the drink.

Acacia doesn't scowl, though, doesn't frown. She just regards Rolento - and moves, not even waiting for her vision to clear. One step, two. Close the distance, footfalls slamming into the rickety raft deck. A strike to his torso, to his center of mass...

EDIT: Acacia doesn't scowl, though, doesn't frown. She just regards Rolento - and moves, not even waiting for her vision to clear. One step, two. Close the distance, footfalls slamming into the rickety raft deck.

The assault is over in a heartbeat, but by all accounts soon enough. The gap between them continues to expand, and without any safe or sure-shot way of breaching it to pull off a win. She is indeed exceptionally sturdy, feeling like she weighed akin to E.Honda as opposed to three digits sopping wet. Resting in a crouch, free hand bracing upon the ground, the other holds his baton backwards before lunging high into the air a second time. "Hmmhmmhmm..." is the only wry sound to leave his lips, amusement not quite hidden by his stoic exterior. As one grenade is yanked off and let loose, shooting down towards Acacia with dreadful speed. Yet it detonates well above the wood, ergo not with any lack of rocking it; Likely licking it black with fire and sinking shrapnel deep within, only reckless insanity sparing Rolento from severely hurting himself in the attempt...

COMBATSYS: Acacia blocks Rolento's Grenadier.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////////  ]
Acacia           0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0          Rolento

Her eyes widen, an instant before the attack. Not much warning, but just barely sufficient for her to skid to a halt, throwing her arms up in a defensive posture - absorbing the brunt of the blast on her crossed sleeves. Wisps of smoke curl from the old Army jacket, the mottled camo gaining a few new black spots. Acacia wrinkles her nose at the smell of spent explosives wafts through the air. It's a familiar smell to her, in and of itself. But in this case, it presents a conundrum. High explosives like /that/ aren't usually a danger to fighters.

But in the hands of /this/ man...


"Hn," Acacia grunts, a wordless acknowledgement. No ire, there, just recognition.

As a combatant, Acacia's basically a counterpuncher. Which isn't -bad-, usually, but it's a strategy that relies on an opponent getting close. And attacking first. /And/ attacking in a manner she can exploit.

Acacia studies Rolento, searching for an opening. Not moving, for now.

Rolento, unfortunately, probably knows that well as she does.

COMBATSYS: Acacia focuses on her next action.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////////  ]
Acacia           0/-------/-======|-------\-------\0          Rolento

Most people use ordinance intended to defeat unbolstered mundane soldiers as well; Not the volatile cocktail of Rolento Schugerg, who's concentrated explosives can split tank armor apart like butter. It's dangerous to use, and absurdly expensive, but the effects are unable to be ignored. As he lands upon the corner of the raft, jostling it again, he rubs a smear of blood away from his mouth and rolls his shoulders. "Hrrm." is repeated. Remarkably passive a figure, really. But he has no compunctions about taking the fight to her, as well. Suddenly he flips forward, passing the distance between in a heartbeat while arcing down his baton aiming to smack the end right into Acacia's face, at arm's reach to prevent any retaliation and do significant disorientation as well. He knows of her capabilities very well, after all... Whether she can compensate enough to overcome his own advantages remain to be seen.

COMBATSYS: Acacia counters Mekong Delta from Rolento with Icon of Stone.

[           \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////////////     ]
Acacia           1/-------/=======|==-----\-------\0          Rolento

That's always the question, isn't it?

Acacia stands where she is, breathing in a slow, controlled fashion. No panic, no aggression, just a watchful silence.

When he attacks, she moves. With a sudden explosive swiftness of her own. She's not an acrobatic fighter, not altogether agile. But that doesn't mean she isn't fast in her own way. As Rolento spins towards her, Acacia reacts. She doesn't try to get out of the way, or absorb the strike in a conventional defensive posture. Rather, she lunges -as well-, into the attack. Just as the baton flashes forward, Acacia whips her own arm to full extension. It's a risky move, her reach being significantly shorter than Rolento's. No room for a mistake...

Her rigid forearm and fist crashes into the base of Rolento's weapon. And the hand gripping it. With jarring force.

A peculiar defense, but one sufficient at the moment. Rolento feels the rebounding kinetic energy, even diffused as it is through his weapon. Rolling his shoulder with a grunt, he retreats only a moment, inwardly amused and surprised she managed to hit him through such. A gamble on her part mayhaps, but one that paid off. He seems less then massively injured however, already beginning to rotate his weapon in a rather insane fashion; The beat builds up like a helicopter's rotor before he rushes forward, sweeping it out in an attempt to shatter through any tentative guard rather thoroughly. And were such to succeed, two further lunging sweeps, the impact amplified by his rather maddening spiral, would follow suit to try to juggle her into the air and hopefully into the ocean at the climax. Each punctuated by a harsh grunt... If he was playing easy at the onset, such is no longer the case!

COMBATSYS: Acacia endures Rolento's Patriot Circle.

[             \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Acacia           1/------=/=======|=------\-------\0          Rolento

The repeated whirling blows slam into Acacia, tossing her into the air. Chi only goes so far, in the business of simulating weight and mass. At the end of the day, without the energy enhancing her physical form, she's still a slightly built young woman whose genetics aren't predisposed to being built like a rock. She's sent flying, blasted off her feet, spinning in space...

...but though her chi, at least in /this/ case, wasn't concentrated in anchoring her to the ground, it still flows through her bones and muscles, giving her a lot more resilence than she /should/ have. Certainly enough that she recovers, while still in mid-air, twisting her body round...taking control of her flight.

And she uses her momentary aerial position to unleash a descending axe kick, dropping one heavy heel downward towards Rolento's skull.

COMBATSYS: Rolento blocks Acacia's Heavy Kick.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Acacia           1/------=/=======|==-----\-------\0          Rolento

The twisting downwards kick is intercepted by Rolento's baton once more, twirling it upwards and bracing it with stance spread. He grunts mildly as the extreme pressure diffuses through his boots, but seems little inconvenienced in terms of a sustained offensive; Immediately whirling around, trying to take advantage of her recovery to lash out with the heel of his foot towards the side of her ribs, to break her guard and send her backwards. He may be forced to fight on her level, direct and fist to fist, but such sheer brutality is far from outside his field of expertise. And he is more then content to fight wordlessly, although his utter confidence is likely hard to miss. Chipping away at a stone is what is taking place, likely in more literal terms then would be anticipated. The venue, of a rapidly tilting ship on choppy seas with a looming submarine looming farther and farther behind as a swarm of gnat-like helicopters films it from afar, is irrelevant.

COMBATSYS: Acacia blocks Rolento's Light Kick.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////        ]
Acacia           1/-----==/=======|==-----\-------\0          Rolento

Which is, perhaps, one thing Acacia and Rolento /do/ have in common.

It's not that she doesn't have situational awareness. Certainly, she takes note of the submarine moving away in the distance, and of the helicopters circling round in the sky. And of course she knows full well how the surface of the makeshift raft is tilting, timbers rocked by the violent motion of combat, the sealed oil drums and other improvised floation elements not /quite/ able to quell the stir caused by the clashing fighters. Acacia knows all that.

It's just... it doesn't /matter/. Or at least it only matters... far as it affects the key issue at hand. The fight.

She knows full well what Rolento is doing. And she /knows/ she's at a disadvantage here. That too doesn't matter.

Doesn't make a difference to what /she/ needs to do. In the end.

Silent resolve, then, as she blocks the strike. Rotating her body, catching Rolento's heel on a lifted forearm, braced to absorb the force. A step back to disengage, opening a tiny sliver of space. And then a simple shift of that blocking arm, dropping it low and across on a horizontal plane, such that she thrusts her elbow at Rolento's leg, his shin.

COMBATSYS: Acacia successfully hits Rolento with Mass Driver.

[                \\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////              ]
Acacia           1/---====/=======|====---\-------\0          Rolento

One wouldn't think a shin hit would hurt too bad, but it hurts as bad as a thwack anywhere else. The pitching ship was merely not in his favor, a random variable that is more then sufficient in this scenario; Although he could compensate cleanly, not by a large enough margin to evade the strike within such close quarters and so crisply executed. But he still smirks, far from on wit's end despite the new throb bleeding into knee and ankle, slipping backwards. He merely advances again, twirling his baton before shooting out the end towards Acacia's throat, a sharp and painful thrust that will hopefully send her stumbling backwards short of breath. "Your performance has increased since our last conflict! But insufficiently to compensate for my own advantage..."

COMBATSYS: Acacia endures Rolento's Weapon Jab.

[                  \\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////              ]
Acacia           1/--=====/=======|=====--\-------\0          Rolento

A small choked-off sound escapes from Acacia's lips, as the baton tip crashes - once more - into her neck. Against a normal person, that kind of blow, that kind of force, would have instantly collapsed the victim's windpipe. Perhaps even shattered vertabrae. In Acacia's case, it /does/ give her momentary pause.

But only momentary.

She coughs, a harsh and ragged sound, releasing - and then drawing - air through her abused passages. Her balled fist rockets forth in a retaliatory strike, the leather of her motorcycle gloves taut across her clenched knuckles. Aiming to dig it firmly into the man's gut, returning the favor.

"Really," Acacia replies, with only the slightest trace of hoarseness in her voice.

COMBATSYS: Acacia successfully hits Rolento with Quick Punch.

[                  \\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Acacia           1/-======/=======|======-\-------\0          Rolento

It would seem that Rolento's luck is drying up rather fast, as he's once more slugged within the stomach by the maneuver and staggered backwards, despite an attempt to snap away. Reeling near the edge of the water, he rolls his shoulders and only slightly hunches over, now no longer bemused given the final stroke of the fight might potentially be determined in another move or two. Her recovery is fairly impressive, but Rolento is intent on finishing this on his own terms. "Affirmative." is offered, as he finally relents the assault that was sustained since his first blow. To narrow his eyes in concentration, and spread his stance anew. "Let us finish this." One hand beckons her forward, the other lazily beginning to rotate his baton in a twirl of the fingers...

COMBATSYS: Rolento focuses on his next action.

[                  \\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////                 ]
Acacia           1/-======/=======|======-\-------\0          Rolento

Her eyes narrow, then.

She regards Rolento across the expanse of battle-scarred wood. She feels the shifting of the raft beneath her feet, moving upon the surface of the water. She feels the sun beat down upon her skin, the touch of the wind as it sets her hair in motion, silver strands catching and reflecting the light.

The prudent thing to do would be to adopt a defensive posture. To conserve her dwindling reserves of energy. Wait for him to come to her. That is, after all, her strength.

But against an opponent like this?

Acacia's lips move, ever so slightly, flexing into the distant ghost of a smile.

She does not like this Rolento Schugerg. She finds him cold, ruthless...

But then, his morality - or lack thereof - is something she can understand. For, to be honest, in the back of her mind... that's what she's afraid of becoming, herself. She made a choice, not so long ago, to be something /different/. But - she understands.

"Fine," Acacia says, simply.

She moves.

It's another gamble. She makes no attempt to hide that. A headalong charge, her boots blasting a stacatto against the wood of the raft, rocking it with her motion. Lunging towards her opponent. A dangerous thing, with him standing so close to the edge, with his demonstrated superior agility and speed. A dangerous thing. Yet she charges all the same, leading with one arm, one fist.

COMBATSYS: Rolento fails to interrupt Godshatter from Acacia with Fatality Package.

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

COMBATSYS: Rolento can no longer fight.

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

And impact. But more than just a physical blow, more than just the hammer force of Acacia's muscles. The chi that suffuses her body, the chi that strengthens her form... radiates /outward/ as the punch lands, radiating in a shockwave of pure spiritual energy that distorts the air. The wavefront travels in a concentric explosion from her fist, smashing a large chunk of the raft's surface into splinters, sending water spraying from the surface of the sea. But the bulk of the force...continues /inward/. From Acacia and into /Rolento/, the power resonating through his bones, his sinew, his muscles, blood and organs.

Oh, Rolento knows this was not the most intelligent thing to do. But his intent was to finish it. He would survive, were the gamble to succeed. It is the flip of a coin, the fate of the fighters resting upon his success. She has left herself vulnerable to evasion, and to interception. One will succeed where the other fails. He has a fraction of a second to decide.
And even veterans make mistakes.
One hand reaches out, trying to catch her by the front of the shirt as his face openly sneers. And as he's dedicated himself to the maneuver, he realizes the mistake he made. He had intended to goad her into an open assault, but she unleashes it quicker then anticipated. Although he does get ahold of her shirt, a moment later she connects, and the impact is devastating. He's been hit incredibly hard in his life... And in all honesty, it's not nearly the worst for a masochist who tends to add literal injury to insult with his brazen self-detonation. But is it something he'd desire to have repeated? Not by any means. He's flying away, launched like a rocket from his precarious footing. Blood spills from his mouth, glazed eyes slitted, mouth warped into shock. Some distance away he splashes in. Given his lack of immediately surfacing... it's counted as a win, his submarine swishing through the ocean and approaching the general area to retrieve him. A climatic fight with a by the skin of one's teeth finale, however... Few could complain about /this/ Saturday Night Fight, even if it lacked dampened Acacia.

COMBATSYS: Acacia has ended the fight here.

Rolento says, "TO THE PENIS"

Rolento says, "er"

Rolento says, "misworld"


Rolento closes te log


Rolento says, "AND YOU KNOW ITS TRUE"

Acacia e_e

Log created on 20:10:56 09/20/2007 by Rolento, and last modified on 21:18:53 12/18/2007.