Post by Yahto Fang on Jul 14, 2008 21:44:28 GMT -8
((Not sure if this is the right protocol, but Delilah is not able to post as much at all due to home problems. And judging by the condition her character is in... I think it'd be best to finish the fight now instead of waiting around. Don't worry, we've both already decided who would win a long time ago. I'll talk this over with her when she gets the chance to come on MSN and make any needed edits to my post at that time.))
One moment, Yahto was in the middle of slamming his raised heel with all of his might into Delilah's shoulder. But the next, his body and senses were going into overdrive when Delilah not only sidestepped his strike, but also managed to grab his leg just long enough for a move of her own. He could only watch Delilah's flaming palm slam into his chest in slow-motion, only to be then sent briefly sailing through the air until he had landed in another four-pointed stance.
At that moment, what happened next was purely and simply a blur in Yahto's eyes. Throughout the years of training and wilderness living, the boy's instincts had been honed to the sharpness of a razor's edge. In fact, there were times when it was almost like his body had gained a will of its own, moving independently of his conscious thoughts with a swiftness that befuddled even him.
This was one such moment.
The moment his feet touched sand, Yahto bent low the ground and springboarded back at Delilah with all the speed his body and remaining Qi could muster, then used the momentum to quickly rotate his body to deliver a spinning heel kick at the side of the girl's head. This final strike was probably the one to end it all. Delilah seemed to be on her last legs, Yahto's usable Qi was nearly depleted, and if the fight continued any longer... Well, Yahto didn't want to think about that possibility.
When all was said and done, Yahto would be left standing there quite shirtless and in a fair amount of pain. A hand-shaped burn had been placed in the direct center of his chest from which small wispy black tendrils of smoke rose into the air and curled around his head. The acrid smell of singled flesh tickled in his nose and made him growl lightly at the smell. But yet, as he looked at his opponent, he couldn't help but let a small but genuine smirk spread across his face. It took quite a bit of guts to move through all that pain in her body and make that final strike, even at the risk of being crushed under Yahto's dropping heel. "At least she has that going for her." Yahto muttered within his head as he stepped over her unconscious body. "If not much else."
But before heading towards the boardwalk, Yahto cast a brief glance at the short japanese kid perching on the lightpole like a midget gargoyle. "I'll leave her to you." he called to the other boy. "I'm done with her." With that, it was time to go home.
And to a doctor.
One moment, Yahto was in the middle of slamming his raised heel with all of his might into Delilah's shoulder. But the next, his body and senses were going into overdrive when Delilah not only sidestepped his strike, but also managed to grab his leg just long enough for a move of her own. He could only watch Delilah's flaming palm slam into his chest in slow-motion, only to be then sent briefly sailing through the air until he had landed in another four-pointed stance.
At that moment, what happened next was purely and simply a blur in Yahto's eyes. Throughout the years of training and wilderness living, the boy's instincts had been honed to the sharpness of a razor's edge. In fact, there were times when it was almost like his body had gained a will of its own, moving independently of his conscious thoughts with a swiftness that befuddled even him.
This was one such moment.
The moment his feet touched sand, Yahto bent low the ground and springboarded back at Delilah with all the speed his body and remaining Qi could muster, then used the momentum to quickly rotate his body to deliver a spinning heel kick at the side of the girl's head. This final strike was probably the one to end it all. Delilah seemed to be on her last legs, Yahto's usable Qi was nearly depleted, and if the fight continued any longer... Well, Yahto didn't want to think about that possibility.
When all was said and done, Yahto would be left standing there quite shirtless and in a fair amount of pain. A hand-shaped burn had been placed in the direct center of his chest from which small wispy black tendrils of smoke rose into the air and curled around his head. The acrid smell of singled flesh tickled in his nose and made him growl lightly at the smell. But yet, as he looked at his opponent, he couldn't help but let a small but genuine smirk spread across his face. It took quite a bit of guts to move through all that pain in her body and make that final strike, even at the risk of being crushed under Yahto's dropping heel. "At least she has that going for her." Yahto muttered within his head as he stepped over her unconscious body. "If not much else."
But before heading towards the boardwalk, Yahto cast a brief glance at the short japanese kid perching on the lightpole like a midget gargoyle. "I'll leave her to you." he called to the other boy. "I'm done with her." With that, it was time to go home.
And to a doctor.
