Post by Vio on Jan 4, 2015 14:57:20 GMT -5
"Now that's something I can understand," commented the man with the eye patch, smirking. Shin Asada had been his name, apparently, but right now that was not much of a concern. The thing that had grasped Louisa McLeod's attention was the fact that a group of three scumbags were causing a ruckus in an otherwise fine establishment, and that had riled her up. More than riled, really, for she was brimming with a fury that could only hail from the Pikt Archipelago. It was unfortunate for these men that they were to be on the receiving end of her anger, worse still that she had made friends who seemed more than willing to lend a hand. As the bobbed up and down on the spot, she kept her gaze fixed upon her own opponent, but still she listened to the rhythm of her companions. It was over quickly, but the one thug had pulled a blade out against Shin, only to fall to the ground a second or two later. His body was essentially frozen, a status known as paralysis, but how had such an effect been administered? Didn't that require some sort of drug or shock to the nervous system?
"What the hell is with you lot!?" Roared the leader of the pack as Carl, the chef who had been so kind as to provide them with a hearty breakfast, cheered on his acquaintance. Speaking of breakfast, Miss McLeod had not been given the chance to tuck into her meal, which probably explained a little more of her anger. Regardless, her foe was back on his feet and itching for a fight, clenched fists at the ready as he charged forward, attempting to throw a punch as the girl's feet drummed the floorboards. The rhythm of her body resonated along the floor as her feet and knees went up and down, criss-crossing every once in a while as she followed the melody in her mind. It wasn't perfect. Ideally, she'd loved to have been playing an instrument as well, but there just wasn't enough time or space to make use of one at present. A shame, really, for a lively expression of the soul would no doubt bolster the already fiery confidence of her comrades, especially as the man with the pan jumped into the fray once more.
"Ah, please! Is tha' all yoo got? Yoo've got nae rhythm tay ye," the musician taunted as the brute's fist flew towards her. At first she dodged, hopping to her right and away from her allies in an attempt to keep the foe spread out. Very much a military tactic of sorts, it seemed; a direct result of her training. However, the initial punch was blended into a kind of feint as her opponent instead opted to swing his now extended arm towards her in the midst of her jump while throwing a second punch with his other arm. Unable to evade the attack, she raised her arms and blocked the initial hammer-like swipe, forcing her to drop the melodious marching in favour of a firm foothold. While it had built up over a few seconds, the enemy's clever attack had brought the drumming to an abrupt end.
"Neither have you, girlie!" Retorted the man as his following punch broke through the dancer's defence, knocking her raised forearms out of the way and allowing her foe's fist to crash into a more delicate area of her chest. The blow surprised her, sea-coloured spheres widening from the shock of the impact as she stumbled backwards, tripping over a fallen chair and landing flat on her back in the corner of the inn. A smug look was plastered on the man's face as he chuckled over the success of his attack, cracking his knuckles before dusting his hands off. At around this same time, the fallen femme caught a glimpse of the background as the cook suddenly flew through the air, apparently having been thrown by the enraged head of the gang. Regardless of what was happening, the already angry Piktish lass was now thoroughly coming to the boil.
"Yooo..." Growled Louisa, getting up from the floor and onto her knee, one hand resting upon her raised thigh and the other pressed against her bosom where she had been stricken. Right now she was furious. Absolutely fuming. First these men had been so bold as to threaten the innkeeper? But, this one had taken this biscuit. This man had done the unthinkable to the prideful young woman. He'd hurt her in a way she could not forgive anyone for. "How dare ye insult MAH RHYTHM!"
"Whaaaaa!?" That was the general response from the whole joint. The innkeeper who was now sheltering behind the bar, his head poking up from beneath. The three thugs, including the paralysed man. The few remaining 'spectators', and even the man with the newspaper in the corner was now stricken with an unusual amount of surpise, though at least he was able to contain himself and remain concealed behind the folds. Now the woman bounced up again, propelling herself onto her feet with a rekindled energy. Now her legs began to drum the floor once more, but this time the melody was different. Each thunderous slam of her feet upon the boards conveyed the rage she currently felt within her, almost as if her dancing was trying to summon a volcanic eruption from beneath. Her face red with rage, her eyes charged with anger. Forward she thundered, making a swift rotation as she closed the gap between herself and dropping down, rolling behind him before continuing the frenzied footwork. It was like a dramatic pause in an orchestral piece.
"Gunna Meaisín!" Now behind her foe, the girl chose a different drum to beat upon, planting her left foot firmly upon the ground and raising her right leg. A flurry of one, two, three, four kicks was unleashed upon the flank of her adversary. Each strike slammed into his body with the sole of her shoes, making a distinct 'thwomp' sound with every hit. On the last hit, she twirled back once more, resuming the drumming of her heels and toes upon the wooden floor while her opponent stumbled, able to withstand the kicks. Still, he could expect some painful foot-shaped bruises to appear later. As he recovered from the attack, however, the criminal was greeted by another foot flying toward him, cringing as the girl yelled out a single word. "Fuip..."
"Huh?" The brute's eyes were squeezed shut, his arms held close to his body. The drumming had stopped again. Why? That was probably because Louisa was currently balanced upon the toes of her left foot, her right leg extended beyond the man's head. Finally he opened his eyes, only to stare straight into her own. She stared back, a scowl upon her freckled face. "Ha-ha-hah! You miss-"
"PIOSTAL!" Pulling her leg back, the redhead twisted her hips and bent her knee, smacking him in the back of his head with her foot as she did so. An exceptionally deceptive attack had been launched, toppling the thug as the girl's leg strength sent him down to the ground. With a loud thump, the unfortunate crook's face was smashed into the floorboards with more than enough force to knock him out cold. He lay on the floor, nose bloodied, practically unconscious...