I Don't Even Know Who You Are! [Private/Micaiah, Yugiri]

It was, what, almost a full year now? Maybe a little less since she separated with the Misfits Dojo:tm: and gone her own way. They separated with no hard feelings, of course; it was just that Micaiah was a woman of her own pace. She truly enjoyed her time with them and wouldn't at all mind adventuring around as a group again, but only for a few rounds. A full chapter of her life couldn't be dedicated to being tied down by a group, not right now at least. Maybe not ever, to be honest, but those were considerations for the far future.

The considerations for the near future was which tomatoes were more delicious. Hard to tell from the just looking at them; these weren't tamataar tomatoes, after all. Those, native to demon world, were top of the line. Aristotle would say it was the tomato all tomatoes aspired to be. Tamataars, you could tell at a glance. It glowed with a tantalising mystique, tempting the mouth to draw closer and salivate. And then--you'd die. Tastebuds were ruined, you couldn't eat a damn thing else afterwards.

That's why Micaiah never ate them. Wild and risky? Sure. Stupid? Sure. But dumb? You couldn't ever pin that statement on Micaiah. Miss her with that dumb shit. Just by looking at a few friends, lost to their desires of gluttony--as demons do--she could tell tamataars weren't with the trouble. Damn druggies.

These tomatoes though? Totally mediocre. In fact, some a little less than mediocre, but what would you expect from a war-torn world. The United States were in shambles in a lot of places, and it ruined the travel of some products. Made things more expensive, some commodities scarce or even unavailable, and the overall bar of quality dropped on several items, tomatoes included apparently. It also made a lot of items waaay more common to be sold, as their use and value plummeted in favour of products with practical use like blankets or tupperware.

That's why this whole lot outside an old commercial store in Texas was occupied with people bartering goods rather than spending currency. Like a flee market, people were going around with their items of value looking for food to eat, appliances to secure, and for prey to steal from. Not that Micaiah cared much either which way; though she was an innocent woman herself, in no way was she an arbiter of justice. No matter what happened around her, provided her own items stayed on her person, she just continued weaving through the crowds, looking for a goddamn good tomato. Is it seriously that hard? Does the world really expect her to make and eat a proper burger without a tomato? What the fuck did she come to America for if not this?

Maybe not on the level of killing intent, but closing in on the cusp. Micaiah felt this glare prickling on her back, but in the moment she chalked it up to a random feller looking to get a good steal or do some other criminal thing to her. Wouldn't be the first time; spiritually unaware people always were an audacious bunch, totally unaware of what big boys and girls are above them. Either way, it was probably someone well below a threat level, someone she could shrug off if they came at her sideways.

"You shouldn't ignore this one. You might get a flying kick coming your way, straight to your face."

Maujuda's warning was outta nowhere. Was she the one who didn't know the big boys and girls above her? Was this prickling gaze from someone actually totally above her league? If true, why the hell were they focused on her? Micaiah turned around and met eyes with the person focused on her. Dark skinned, short light hair, pretty but otherwise totally unknown. Or wait, actually, she was getting some familiar vibes from this lady. Something about the way the eyes were looking at her. Almost animistic, and feline. Huh.

Well, as long as she steered clear and careful, it'd be alright? Then again, Maujuda wouldn't speak up about something so mundane unless it was to either: fuck with her, or a show of concern. The valid responses were to either humour him, or stick to her guns, and to be honest there was one clear answer she preferred.

There was no hesitation. Micaiah kept walking onwards.

What the fuck. Don't run? Who the hell was this person? Either they were absurdly out of line with this aggression--and Micaiah had absolutely no problems facing that head first--or they were some sort of resident judiciary or ruler of this area who didn't like the cut of Micaiah's jib. Either way, that's not something she'd take lying down. Worst come to worst, this opponent was someone far beyond her means to confront, and Maujuda would bail her out. Right? How crazy would it be if the dumb sword said, Nah, fuck it.[i] That'd be [i]hilarious.

The blonde turned around to lock eyes back with the lady. On second look, she was sure that the vibes were of someone she already knew. Maybe they were a relative of a person she picked a bone with. To be fair, that's totally plausible. To her recollection though, there was no one in America that had some backers big enough to give Micaiah some of that double trouble.

"Sorry, who the fuck are you?"

The Animal Aspect gave her some boons to her senses on pretty much every level. Enough that she acutely recognised the similarities of the vibes she was getting from the woman and someone she vaguely recalled in her memories. You'd think the mention of "Yugiri" by a bystander would ring any bells, but honestly she came up short. Familiar? Yes. It was reaching a point of painful deja vu. The kind that flooded her mind and inspired a person to obsessively try and sort through their memories to find the link. A person who was concerned enough about that sort of thing, to be specific. Not Micaiah. That was the kinda mental gymnastics reserved for someone else with more time on their hands.

Still, someone saying her name meant she was known around here. The local head honcho theory was in first place for explaining who this Yugiri was. And if that was the case, the truly didn't know who they were messing around with. Micaiah flared her presence in response. Not the strongest in the world, but as far as this block was concerned, she was out of their league.

The crowds around them parted. America was hit pretty hard--everyone here knew the sort of outcome that followed two powers colliding together, and none of them wanted a part of that. With the people split like the Red Sea, Micaiah walked forward with a swagger, putting on a rugged expression.

"I got no clue who you think you are, but I'm just here to buy some tomatoes. You got a problem with that? You a tomatoe kinda gal, or what?"

What the fuck was this woman talking about? Is this just the good ol'fashioned demon-influenced American culture coming into play? Micaiah coulda sworn this bitch was provoking her, and that it wasn't just a manner of speech from the area.

"I ain't no bully, but you're really pushin' me to change that."

One last warning. Micaiah brought her fist into her palm and cracked her neck, both to look cool intimidate and to prepare herself. Even the mention of a cat prompted no memories. She was already well under the assumption that this lady was messed up in the head; the reference only shifted her perceptions to labeling them as "messed up in the head weird cat-lady".

"Alright. I still don't know who the hell you are, and I don't know if you got me confused for someone else, but if you're lookin' for a fight I'll oblige."

The words alone were enough to let people around them get a clue. With haste, several shops in their immediate vicinity started packing up and scurrying away; a normal street brawl might've drawn attention and cameras onto the fight, but in with the political and social climate of this past year or so, the resident weren't taking any chances. Given some 30 seconds or so, the market around them cleared out; a few more minutes and the fleeing would ripple out to effect the rest of the lot.

As soon as the woman launched herself, Micaiah entered Asura Aspect. She raised her arms to swipe away at the punch and push it to the side with enough speed and strength to propel a whole truck across a street, in tandem bringing her knee up towards the opponent's midsection. Honestly, this bitch was fast. Micaiah couldn't even really see the movement of the punch specifically; she just saw enough of the general movement to get an idea what was coming through battle sense and intuition.

"Damn, you're pretty strong for a midget."

Meanwhile, Micaiah brought her knee up rapidly and aimed for their midsection.