Duel:Lucien v Satoshi

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Lucien vs Satoshi (Silly Duel)

Location: Kelay Restaurant
Duelists:  Lucien,  Satoshi
Judges:  Thea,  Acheron,  Drathir
Stakes: 10k to winner, 5k to loser
Time limit/restrictions: No time limit, food and clothing only allowable weapons


Satoshi is in a perfectly feisty mood today, world be warned. A thing made evident when the feline makes her dramatic entrance into the restaurant by means of a dive-tuck-and-roll through a conveniently open window. Her altered form of entry has her standing beside a baffled chef, the man holding a lengthy string of linked sausages as he simply stares at the feline. The diminutive mage gives no valid reason for it, but she abruptly swipes the food from the man's grip and places a number of coins in empty hand. With a laugh, strung together meat swings over her head three times before its suddenly lashed out like a moist whip. By random coincidence or as fate's joke, Lucien is her target. Be he near enough to receive the first haphazard swing of the sausages or not, the feline is very quickly shuffling toward him with frequent swings coming in from above, each side, any direction the meat's momentum takes it. For all the world, the cat appears like a sorry reenactment of a lion-tamer, minus a stool-shield.

Lucien , the leather clad lad from parts unknown finds himself abruptly sausage-battered, the fat meats thwapping wetly, with merciless meaty frenzy, upon his bare head and poorly-garbed torso. This unprompted attack riles the human, though his rage is curtailed by linked meats whipped to pink frenzy. Lash, lash, and the long end of the sausage-chain whips about his throat, by accident or design, and the boy realises this could be the end, as the very life is strangled from him. Death by smallgoods unappealing, he lunges forward, back, spins about, loosens the links enough to slip free, breathless but unharmed thus far. An uncivilised growl issues from his throat, and the boy scans the counter for.. his counter-attack! Swiping handfuls of sticky peanut butter fudge, Luc stampedes across the restaurant, hurling himself toward the feline in the hope of taking her down with his superior weight and lankiness, his fingers already groping, smushing, smearing, trying to rub the sugary treat into Satoshi's face, eyes, ears and nostrils. Fudge you, Satoshi. Fudge you!

Satoshi finds herself suddenly waylaid by sweet treats! Chocolate might be any girl's dream way to go... but the feline has no intentions of enduring a death by such things. Not today! Growling and sneezing as a hand swipes frantically away at the fudge--sausage links dropped and hopefully serving to trip up the boy's advance, the cat stumbles back blindly, a table's harsh edge bringing a quick end to this retreat from Lucien. Free hand groping behind her even as she manages to smear most of the chocolate from her vision, the mage can't help a grin at what her hand falls upon. A neat little row of crackers, so innocuously arranged upon the plate. Well, not for long. Seizing the plate to be brought in front of her, she begins a rapid bout of hurling the crackers at Lucien, tiny salted disks hurtling through the air at alarming speeds to pelt limbs, chest, face--crumbs are unpleasant in the eyes certainly. Edible-ninja-stars, a cat's best friend.

Lucien is a-salted! The crumbly weapons strike, pointed corners digging into flesh, pocking his brow, showering his eyes with cracker-dust. Luc is now both visually impaired and ankle-tangled in the sausages, and this does not improve his teenaged temper. Eyes watering badly, he drops upon the floor, groping it for his pack, The bag is dragged near by it strap and rummaged in, hastily. From it he draws his day's catch-- a magnificent ocean-trout, eleven pounds at least. Luc struggles to his bound feet, bouncing in his boots across the room, fish gripped by its tail. He sights a white blur that can only be Satoshi, and swings the dead fish back like a scaly cudgel, this swung with brute and decadent force toward the feline, aiming to leave the ice-magus thoroughly fish-slapped.

Satoshi, poorly choosing Lucien's delay as a good time to wipe away more of the fudge, is the unhappy recipient of a trout upside the head for her troubles. With an undignified squeak she tumbles sideways with the fishy momentum, a hand flailing out to take hold of anything to stop her fall. Unfortunately, table cloths aren't sturdy holds and grabbing one only results in the feline being assaulted by a rain of kitchenware and dishes. And a particular fine center-piece of ham. Scrambling back to her feet, the feline sinks claws deeply into the honey-baked chunk of meat, holding it in a way reminiscent of a padded glove, and advances once more upon Lucien. "Bon appetit!" the mage growls out before her ham-armed hand swings toward the ceiling in an uppercut aimed for Lucien's chin, the hammy punch dropping before its full upward strike simply so the cat can pivot on a boot and whip around, honeyed food coming full-circle for a sideways blow to Lucien. She's just hamming it up, now.

Lucien stands bravely, for the lanky lad is fearless in the face of ham, corned beef and spam, though he is young and beardless. But ham slaps here, and ham strikes there, the ham is all around; the boy has crackers in his hair, his feet are sausage-bound-- he takes a thump, a hammy clump does whack him in the chops, and down he goes, hard floor-ward thrown by many porkish pounds. He narrows eyes, he clenches fists, no gnat nor mouse is he! He shakes his head, rolls on his back and kicks his both feet free! Then clutching at his trouser-waist, slips of his baggy pants. He jumps up, slighty ham-hazed, and does a little dance-- all to distract the kitty, while he sashays to her fore, and o'er her head the trousers go! And tugged down, snugly, even more!

Satoshi has been pantsed! And in the most unorthodox of ways, too... Now, with someone else's clothing snugly pulled over her in a way unintended for such gear, the feline's left to do her own bit of sashaying, table-collisions and chair-toppling aplenty during the blinded dance. It's after the sixth meeting with a hapless patron that the feline suddenly stops, the outline of her form blurring before altogether vanishing, Lucien's pants billowing to the floor with the sudden lose of a mage or belt to hold them up. She's not simply disappeared in thin air, mind you. No, the cat's simply become... well, a cat. A truth made obvious as the fabric of the pants squirms a number of times, the large lump traveling down a pant leg until a white cat is released at the end, complete with paw embedded in ham. From here Lucien is given a plaintive miyew and pleading, wide blue eyes, the last line of defense--and possibly most dangerous and potent, of any kitten. How could harm such a helpless little thing, really?

Lucien eyes her claws, and cups his both hands over now-exposed delicates. Being his boxers, of course, but just in case. He keeps one eye on the poke-fingering feline, mistrust broiling in his eyes, and waits for whatever outcome comes. Shivering a bit.

Lucien scrinches over there and collects his pants.

Lucien picked up 1 baggy pants.

Satoshi disengages herself with the ham and promptly makes a bolt for that open window she tumbled through prior.


Winner: Lucien, 2 votes to 1.