Welcome to Gaia! ::

There were few types that stood out in the open when anticipating combat: the foolish but brave, the confident and perilous, and the desperate. Lieutenant Schörl was none of those. She was safetly in shadows, pausing in her exploration of an industrial district, couched against a factory ventilation duct.

She'd had more than a decade of martial arts training, but she wasn't yet a soldier. More importantly she wasn't going to pretend that because black magic had been pumped into her chest that she was suddenly a comicbook savant-hero instilled with theme-song and flawless destiny. She was new to this war, and new to live combat that didn't involve tournaments, or judges of forms. She wouldn't sell herself short that newness was ineptitude either. She could lean on the few barfights and alley scuffles she'd had, and the fact that she exactly what she was doing. What she was willing to do.

She had to experience the war on a personal level, had to learn the ropes and survive them, before she could be a viable member and asset. Before she would have the clout to have allies and friends...brothers and sisters...and make her magic happen.

She had to find some of the enemy.

Schörl looked out at the sprawl of warehouses, delivery trucks boxes, barrels, and shipping yards. Her sense of signatures was dim, but there were energies moving out in the distance. She picked the nearest whisper- it was time to move. It was time get close enough to feel if it was friend or foe. It was time to hunt.

There, on the roof of a cannery, the silhouette of a figure was clear as the Lieutenant navigated leaping some jersey barriers with the enhanced speed being powered-up afforded.

She held her breath for a moment, leaping from ground to awning, then from awning to fire escape, then the roof ledge. She came up on the edge so that the moon was behind her. It wasn't so bright as the sun, and wouldn't afford the same advantage that ended Sasaki Kojirō, but it was a start. Intimidation was a very real, very effective tactic. The signature was that of the Moon Kingdom.

Close up, as she crested and her heels clacked on the cement ledge of the roof, the prize was...not what she expected. A slip of poufy fuschia, pink and spring green that looked like maaaaaaybe she'd made it into middle school. There was a distinctive symbol on her sash. Schörl made a note of its shape and colour. She would find one of the Infos and run it by them.

"You're hardly a midnight snack."

"I don't see a white flag, cordial. " the Lieutenant's shadowed smile widened, a cheshire slash across chiseled cheeks. "The only thing left to decide is how...you die."

Schörl didn't waste another moment summoning her crop to hand as she leapt off the ledge and sprinted full tilt to try to catch the girl with a clothesline while she was rocked back on her heels...off balance.

I don't see a weapon, but that doesn't deny or guarantee unarmed training. Best to assume she has. Keep her frantic, and attack key points to debilitate her hopes to defend. Eyes, throat, elbows and knees.

The Lieutenant didn't pause for the girl's surprise. Once the blow landed she planted her foot to whorl- never show an enemy one's back. "You have forgotten War. Another horse came out, a fiery red one."

The girl had made it up to a crouch, which exposed out the knees- and the Negaverser brought round a kick towards that left joint of the other girl.
" Its rider was given power to take peace from the earth and to make men slay each other. "

"To him was given... a large sword."

Schörl shifted with the other girl's leap, wary of the grasping arms that could limit her range of movement if allowed to connect. She shifted all of herself back and sideways, leading a loop with feet, weight and hands back into Grasping-the-Birds-Tail position. But she'd allowed the knight close- Schörl's own style of combat required a notable lack of distance to be most effective.

Training with martial arts was certainly helpful, but it didn't remove preconceived notions and prejudice. The lieutenant did not expect someone in a fuchsia jacket and green head scarf to be desperate or willing enough to even head butt anything. Or be effective at all. Being in a lowered stance position meant it clocked her square on the cheek instead of a more dangerous upshot from the shorty to her jaw.

Schörl hissed, but didn't back step. They were very close now, so she struck out with the heel of her own palm to try to catch her enemy just below the breastbone- at the apex of the arch of her ribcage under the xiphoid process to paralyze her diaphragm and breathing for a handful of seconds.

"In the guise of a 'foreign' enemy comes tyranny and oppression to the doors of the throne of Earth, and I will defend the doors and the integrity of our people from the taint that is those who support the emissaries of the unwelcome stars. "

"The very feel of you is not of this world, girl. You do not belong here. Run & leave, submit, or die, " she punctuated the words with a try to grab the cloth that was near her missed attack- clothing worked well enough to give the leverage to make someone eat pavement. If I get a hold of you...payback for my effing face...I'll make more than your clothes pink you prat.

"Let's see how well you fly."

Since she still had a good hold on the coat, and the girl seemed unable to get out of it quickly, it was a good opportunity to test out this new two-story strength by playing human hammer-throw. Schörl gripped tight and hauled on the coat and the girl, pulling into a wide circle to then send her to proverbial orbit.

If they were supposed to leap tall buildings in a single bound, and they could punch each others bodies into denting concrete, why not send someone on an unscheduled flight for a few tens of yards, right? Schörl wanted to know what Chaos had given her, how far off she was from the woman that had brought her into this. What exactly did it mean for her body when she was transformed into Schörl instead of plain-jane Stroud. And this little minx was going to be the guinea pig.

"Fly, fall, and break little doll." She let go the coat with a smile.

Like a mink down a hole! Little weasel. Word to the wise, if you want to keep playing, aim more acutely...SOME sort of target, Schörl. And certainly not directly where they can go to ground.

The Lieutenant crossed the roof in a flash, locking her hands around the rim of the vent and peering down into it. There, out of reach was the dim pink and wide powder blues looking up before they darted and the girl was crawling out of sight. Schörl pounded the metal sides with the flats of her hands, sending down a cacophony into the vent.

She howled like a wolf, then laughed.
"Run! Run little mink. When I find you again, I'll have your pelt. " That would make the girl think. Morale was its own battle.

Clever thing. Schörl's own limbs were thin, yes, but too long. She was too long and tall to easily go mousing around in industrial vents like she was in a spy movie. She couldn't follow. She would get squinched up in a shaft like the Grinch going down a chimney. Had the girl just run....Schörl could have chased. It was no use powering down and waiting for the prey to come out from ground. There was no guarantee other humans wouldn't soon be in the area, that quarry wouldn't be lost among them. It was inefficient without being able to watch all exits. Or smoke her out.

She had lost this quarry. She howled into the vent again, long, then took her leave. She needed a conciliatory pipe.