#controlledcontradiction

//Now the question stands.

   there she was-- the queen; the woman who practically saved his life and freed him. oh- how much it meant for him not only being locked in that dark room. he was free, and kiryuin satsuki, which he called his stepsister, was responsible for it.

The gaijin - no, the American, Rowanda, she sure as hell had earned the right to be called that - was a beast of a woman. With six full inches, twenty pounds, and nine years of experience on Ryuko, as well as a known tendency for snapping bones with her vicious pins, to call her an imposing figure would be putting it lightly. Her skill and strength were undeniable, yet despite it all, it was the delinquent from Kanto who'd been keeping the upper hand by the skin of her teeth.

As mighty as her opponent was, the match ended before it started; her opponent wasn't human, and it was obvious to her. The sweat on her brow, the disturbed look in her eyes, all clued Ryuko in to that fact; where her opponent carried cuts and bruises from vicious punches, the teen was as unmarked as the moment she stepped into the ring. Were it not for her uniform and the distinct sheen of sweat on her, anyone would be hard pressed to think that she'd been in the ring for two rounds. The third would not end with her opponent standing.

The bell sounded the beginning of the third round and the youth launched forward, twisting out of the way of a jab that to any normal human wouldn't have been as telegraphed as it was. That twist gave her just enough momentum to bring a knee solidly into her opponent's solar plexus, effectively knocking the wind out of her - and as the American bent over just so to reflexively gasp for breath, Ryuko's uppercut landed solidly on her jaw.

Rowanda went down hard just as the bell sounded again, landing on her back, and she could barely hear the roar of the crowd over her rapidly beating heart and the adrenaline that coursed through her. 

Fuck. I hit her way too hard.

The teen let out an exasperated sigh, bringing a gloved hand up to rub her face blearily as the count came to an end - even as the referee raised her other hand in the air, signalling the victor. At least the chick was alive, but that entire debacle reminded her that self-control was not in her nature - and these fights had become a study in just that. She wasn't human, she never would be again, her strength and her speed were unmatched, but that sure as hell wasn't an excuse for her to go killing people in a fight. 

Sure as fuck hope that never happens.

Swinging the door of the ring open, she stepped through, immediately confronted by a wave of adulation from what felt like an actual million Japanese. It was sweet, and perhaps a little macabre given the way her opponent was carried off in a stretcher - no major injuries except a possible concussion but little did they know that was a blessing in and of itself. It only took the Mankanshokus moments to crowd around her with all the enthusiasm and, well, gusto, that they could muster, which was a hell of a lot and always brought a real smile to her face.

Just as Mako did her novel best to crush her into a hug, her gear shaped irises happened onto a familiar figure quite by mistake - and the surprise was enough to make her freeze somewhat, blinking rapidly. The crowd surged again and she was gone, so quick that she thought she must have been dreaming - 'cause there ain't no way in hell Kiryuin Satsuki was at a women's mixed martial arts fight that wasn't even a championship fight.

"Ryuko-chan, you're not hugging me back!"

i’m not happy :(

i dont like aikuros for sure but we have yet to see how the VA sounds when its Hot Teacher but i dont like it... at all..........................

also mako is such a stereotypical Wow! I'm an anime girl from an English Dub! Nice to meet you!

♕ - You're certainly not at your prime lately,          but you really must keep doing your work.          Nobody will give you a break, after all.

The lights of the Kiryuin manor glimmered like a beacon in the darkness, and Ryuko took slow, measured steps towards the front door, the heels of her boots rhythmically clicking against concrete like a metronome. Her crazed eyes stared fixedly ahead as she moved, resting a hand against the front door while her other gripped tightly at the handle of her blade.

In another life, she supposed she'd probably have felt some sort of sentimentality for the mansion before her. It was where her earliest moments of life had been, though she didn't remember them. The scars that riddled her back, myriad and previously a mystery to her, were the only souvenirs of her infancy; for all that she remembered, though, she may as well have sprung from the womb at age five, fully formed and already angry at the world.

With a low chuckle, Ryuko bowed her head, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter as Junketsu shifted around her form, restless and hungry for blood. "Yeah, yeah," Ryuko chided. "You'll get t'see her again soon enough. Chill the fuck out."

⊰ █♙♥ ρєтιтє █ ⊱ - - -

Ah, what an unfortunate loss.

Nimble fingers fiddle almost clumsily unto violet fabric, velvet scraps stolen swiftly upon her exit ( perhaps if she had the time, she would have been far more selective ). Pinched droplets of crimson blood find their escape from hastily crafted gauze, routed from bandages that obscured her left eye, an ominous look beheld, on a girl that otherwise would have created the image of innocent as the morning beckons. Snarls of abject frustration leaves her mouth, once again as her nails fail to create a proper cut; alas, she is not yet accustomed to being half blinded.

She curses the man, the old rat, who torn out her sight; humiliation, utter humiliation. Oh, her only regret held deeply now, was that she had not had the chance to crush his body, drain the very life out of him slowly, and see the last glimmers of life flicker and fade from his eyes. A magnificent sight it would have been, compensation for her own horrid pain. Nigh, but her revenge has not yet ended here--

A final cut, sharpened nails tearing through sufficiently enough to form a patch; her name embedded, ( a shabby job, but it would have to do; for she had no time to properly return to REVOCS, here at the academy, was her closest stop ) perhaps a trademark would not be too bad. Unique, she reassured herself to that, but did not serve to head any pity towards her latest victim. Barely any time to successfully fasten on the makeshift eyepatch, before the inevitable approach, heeded by the self-announced click of heels. Nui only heightens her grimaces at this; a rather pathetic sight she was now, and she had sparing the mood to deal with any.

              Nay-- but faux smiles are alight despite all.

                      ❝ Satsuki-sama !                       Geez, you shouldn't go sneaking up on girls like that --                       Especially when she's busy ! ❞