Scene #7603: Duel to the End of the Galaxy

Owner	Pose
Kale Hearthward	"Good evening space cats! This is swinging reporter Ulala, checking in on the strange flare out in the Nebula Galaxy..." drones the television in the background of the warpgate plaza as the two paladins pass through towards their destination. Nobody's really paying too much attention to that, though, since she hasn't busted out any sick dance moves yet. For here: take the far future, in space. Fix it in your mind. Now keep the same tech level - but drag it all the way back to the 1960's in terms of everything else. The aesthetics, the decor, and in particular the clothing. https://i.ibb.co/vhymqRC/channel5.png "This is the Luxury Spacecraft G," Kale explains, as he leads Ioanna out into a mostly-empty spaceship deck, a clear dome covering it on all sides. "Currently in drydock for repairs - so in case things go wrong, the exterior is still pressurized. I'm owed a few favors, so they don't mind too much if we end up scuffing up the floors a bit, anyway." Kale's wearing a colorful, vertical-striped outfit made out of some sort of plastic-y leather substitute, with a red jacket with tassels to complete the look. "Something about this part of the multiverse just appeals to me," he says, as he heads a bit further out into the green-and-yellow floor and takes up a position. "It feels very... theatrical, in a way." "But go ahead - show me how well your gear can blend in here, and then take the first swing," he says, reaching back and drawing his sword.
Ioanna Langstrom	"Don't worry, sir. Nothing's going to go wrong." When they entered the Warpgate, the Alter Gear wasn't anything especially special. It was a bodysuit of no special color on a curvy woman of five-nine, with a long and heavy gun over her shoulder and an odd-looking pad hanging at her hip. The minute they stepped out of the Warpgate was an entirely different story. Ioanna Langstrom does not blush at the low-cut midriff blouse wrapped around generous cleavage, buttoned up top and loose on the bottom for reasons only the sixties could imagine, rippling with a multitude of colors at every step and bounce. She does not make some sort of squeak of disapproval at the short-shorts clinging to wide hips, cycling in the opposite direction of the colors of her top. Her face is impassive as she adjusts her walk from a stern military step in flat-boots to a hip-swinging rhythm-checking stride in high-tops. As they're walking and as Kale is talking, she's already feeling out the music, every so often tapping the tip of her toes against the floor in mid-step. "It's real groovy, sir," she says, her tone slightly brighter, "Outta sight and dynamite." At this point Kale has probably also noticed that the large and heavy gun has transformed into a microphone hooked to some kind of radar dish in her other hand. At this point, as he says 'take the first swing,' her voice gets bright, and she swings around with one foot onto the dance floor. "Roger that, sir," she says, her tone still neutral but her voice upbeat. Ioanna grabs the microphone. "HIIIII EVERYBODY!" She shouts. Her voice echoes around the station. "IS EVERYBODY HAVING FUN?!" "I - CAN'T - HEAR - YOU!" "IS EVERYBODY HAVING FUN!?" She swirls once, her hip swinging with the music. "Let's light this joint up and have a gas! The weather today calls for..." "RAIN!" The microphone echoes the word. From the projector, a blast of water just fires, spiralling at Kale with all force. Ioanna swings two fingers next to her face, and, her voice deadpan as hell, goes, "Yatta~, sir."
Kale Hearthward	Kale nods approvingly at her outfit - and at how instantly it's been applied on arrival. "Impressive," he says, shortly. He watches her start announcing, holding his sword at parrying position, looking a little surprised that the suddenly-appearing microphone works. So it's not just for show... ... and then the water blasts out. Kale's caught off guard - he hesitates a moment too long in deciding to try parrying the water stream or not, decides to dodge instead, and gets winged for his troubles. As he moves, the blast knocks him off balance, but then he recovers quickly and keeps moving. "Haha, thanks, Ioanna - but if you'll check the weather map - you're gonna see it's not just happy stormclouds of rain!" He keeps moving, swinging his sword as he does so. Persistent afterimages appear with each swing, starting to cut off Ioanna's approaches and escapes. "We've got a big ole' cold front coming through - massive winds, with a high chance of intermittent COLD STEEL!" He casts, sending some of the afterimages flying towards her on a large gust of wind!
Ioanna Langstrom	She's clearly been well-trained. When Kale comes in swinging with the sword, Ioanna parries with the microphone, the strange weapon standing up to the blows better than he might expect. But she's not really his match - not even close. He starts to get hits in, slashes and cuts along her clothing, the sort of cuts one might expect to pop open in sexy ways considering the environs - But they don't. The flimsy-looking clothes hold. Ioanna herself holds, though her teeth are grit in a rictus grin, because you have to keep grinning when you're on the air. The blast of wind sends her backwards, knocking her off her feet. She turns it into a handstand, tossing the microphone-and-raygun into the air as she does so. She wobbles for a second before she slides back onto her feet, catches the thing, and twirls, moving back into the rhythm immediately. "That's right! This cold front is gonna be harsh!" She steps to the right twice, out of the way of one of the remaining afterimages, "A real bummer! But don't worry, folks! Weatherlady Langstrom is here to tell you how to make it through and keep on groovin'!" She spins. "First!" She slides over to a random dancer, grabbing them by the hand and dragging them onto the dance floor, the raygun slung over her shoulder, "Find somebody who can keep up with your beat!" "Second!" She releases the random dancer and swirls the raygun down, "Put on the hottest tunes you got!" The blast of flame comes pouring out of the raygun, pulsing to the music. Ioanna bends forwards and presses two fingers to her lips as the flamethrower burst ends. "And third..." "You get wild with it!"
Kale Hearthward	Kale's watching her- taking her measure as much as he can while still putting up a good fight. The young bird has no pretentious of being an old warhawk veteran - but he's been around enough battles to evaluate her, he figures. The fire blast comes at him. He jumps, twists in the air like an olympic pole vaulter to get a bit of extra height over it, barely clearing the blast... ... and then just doesn't come down. "Impressive," he says again, hovering in the air, a dull roar coming from the jet boots keeping him aloft. "I can see that I shouldn't underestimate you." There's no hint of smugness or really any sort of body language commentary at having dodged her attack - that's not the point here. (And also Kale knows that he's good at it, this is an established fact to him.) "But so far you've been attacking at range - how are you up close!" He angles himself and dives at her, swinging his sword - trying to get past her guard and keep pursuing her with a relentless series of up-close attacks with the height advantage his flight gives him!
Ioanna Langstrom	Well, that's... A problem. She's being forced to fight on his terms, and she simply can't. She's not an Elite. She's not anything special. She's survived a whole lot of fights, a whole lot of combat, but that doesn't mean anything when you're faced with someone who has magic sword powers. All it means is that you don't die easy. And that's pretty much what she shows. Her motions are in time to the dance, swinging back and forth with the blade. Occasionally her foot comes up, the platform shoes swinging around to bat the sword away as she tries to find footing. But that's just not possible. Each slash pushes her further back. Each blow pushes her further against the wall. Soon she's just not able to keep up or even defend herself - all she can do is try to weather the blows and look for an opening. But, again, she's not a trained swordsman, or a trained martial artist, or a trained brawler. She's a soldier. She's trained in tactics and basic weaponry, drilled in discipline. Looking for an opening is beyond her. So she just...swings. The platform shoe. Directly up into Kale's beak. She's very flexible, at least.
Kale Hearthward	WHAM The platform shoe connects solidly with the underside of the hawk's beak, with a very satisfying sound. Or, well, satisfying to some, to the beak's owner, not so much. It also throws him off his momentum. "Remind me when we're done- close range training, and aerial mobility adjustments to whatever that Alter Gear can do," he says, drawing back and up, breaking off his attacks as he rubs at his beak. "You've got potential, just need to polish that potential in a couple ways. Soon enough, you'll be leaping from airship to airship, taking down captain and crews to capture them whole, mark my words." "Later, though - I want to see how you stand against my full force!" The sword is dropped, and Kale brings both hands to the sides as he focuses, and inhales- - and then exhales. There's a disporportionate amount of air flowing out of the bird, compared to what went in - pressure, speed, and force all equivalent to a localized hurricane, trying to send Ioanna flying across the deck!
Ioanna Langstrom	She can't. Oh, she tries. She absolutely tries. But the difference is just too noticeable. There's nothing she can do against it, nothing other than put her feet down and push against it with everything she's got. And she's already up against the wall. So when she's slammed against it, head hitting with an ugly thud, she's real happy that the suit's not actually leaving her head undefended. She slides down the wall, head bowed, her hair over her eye (and patch). He can't see her expression as she sits there for a moment (and he'd be forgiven for thinking she had a concussion, considering how the Alter Gear looks). Finally, when she stands, she's a little shaky. "Yes, sir," she says in her usual, very military, tone. "I'll make sure to remind you, sir." Her finger taps a camera floating nearby (oh, that's where that weird FluxCompad thing went), and then, carefully, tucking one arm under her breasts for support while she stumbles on platform heels, she makes her way out, her eye hidden from the world.