Mind Over Mayhem [Kalama/Natsumi]

Anywhere this green haired ninja shinigami woman thing... was going, she was making a ruckus, so it was not hard to follow her sightings. Natsumi had been to Germany, France, and was now in the UK, where her target supposedly was. The number of green haired women Natsumi had confronted up to this point was… well, around six. Yeah, six. Two were in the City of Lights, three in German, and one was yesterday in the UK. She had kept her hair braided and tucked away, utilizing the skills of a ninja herself, to make sure she wasn’t recognized though.

With every intention of avenging Stella, Natsumi wandered around until she spotted someone with green hair. She made sure to keep her guard up, alert, and search places most normal people wouldn't be, like on the tops of buildings or in dark alleys. A Shinigami could be anywhere, even in the sky. That's why Natsumi was on the rooftops, checking every inch of the streets. "When I spot her... She's dead..."

“I told you not to put your fucking hand there you bastard!” A familiar voice uttered, the owner of which staring down at the latest fool who’d tried to put his fingers all over her ass. Her time with Arianda had been so pleasant and Kalama had actually been in a good mood since then but naturally that had lasted a grand total of five fucking minutes. The target of her abuse wasn’t in a pretty state, lying helplessly on the floor, talking complete shit, bleeding rather heavily. “What part of I’m into chicks don’t you get?” Kalama continued, punting him hard in the ribs.

A part of her wanted to kill him there and then, her purple orbs blazing as she delivered a second kick to his midsection, resulting in a rather nasty crunching sound. Yet, after remembering Arianda’s words regarding such things, the Shinigami sighed, before spitting on the idiot and turning away, placing her mask over her lower face as she quickly moved away. She supposed that she should be a little more careful, even if the idea of doing so made her fucking sick.

Walking along the roofs of the buildings, a sound came to Natsumi’s ear. She walked over to the edge, looking down into an alleyway where a man was being beaten by a woman. A green haired woman… This had to be her. The attitude, the violence… It reminded Natsumi a little of herself… before Natasha.

Natsumi jumped onto the edge of the roof, looking through the alley and loving the fact that there was so much shit she could use. Trashcans began to shake and fly. Rocks began to raise. Paper, broken bottles, soda cans, beer cans, old cans of food, an old mattress, and a single dumpster, rat shit… It all rose around Kalama, as Natsumi’s soul reached out to grab onto everything she could in the alley.

'I shouldn't be doing this, but she needs to die.'

Natsumi suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs, a guttural roar echoing into the alley as her arms came together in one swift movement. Everything that she had taken control of, that surrounded Kalama converged on her location at once.

It was that roar which gave Kalama the awareness she needed to protect herself and tapping into her kido repertoire, she’d surround herself with a blue triangle structure that was able to take the brunt of all the random crap that was hurled in her direction. It was fucking disgusting to be hit with such shit and any chance of her cooling down went completely out of the window. “Bakudō #73. Tōzanshō.” She spat, using the chant after the spell rather than before, her purple eyed gaze blazing with hatred.

As powerful as her defensive spell was, she wasn’t completely unscathed and the outfit she was wearing was certainly damaged, cuts and lesions visible on her body. Whatever the hell that attack was, it definitely wasn’t something she’d seen before and while on a good day, she’d have been intrigued, that for sure wasn’t how she was feeling right now. The pain from her wounds just increased her anger, which was at a fever pitch already.

Her head snapping around to face the woman above, she’d shout. “The fuck do you want? You cowardly piece of shit! Don’t fuck with me!”

Placing a hand in front of her, her digits pointing in the direction of the woman, she’d angrily proclaim. “Hadō #58. Tenran.”

A tornado of wind would burst forth, heading up towards the coward who’d tried to sneak attack her.

When in this mindset, the one thing Natsumi could truly count on was her quick thinking. Even if her body didn't move like she needed it to, she could control herself mentally like a puppet to maneuver herself. Doing so, she threw herself like a ragdoll over the side of the building as the tornado ripped by her, making her fall into the alley. As she was falling, she reached out to the dumpster behind Kalama and, the shaking of metal being her only hint as it was suddenly pulled back to Natsumi, threatening to slam into Kalama's back at full force.

Natsumi let go of the dumpster once it was on its way, allowing momentum to do the rest. Right as Natsumi was about to hit the ground, she stopped herself and with a wicked yell like before, she sent the dumpster now incoming toward her right back down the alley with even more force than before. The wide eyed, wild looking expression in Natsumi's eyes stayed strong as she began floating off the street.

"You should die for what you did to her... Someone like Stella does NOT deserve that. She is TOO good of a person, and you WILL BE PUNISHED."

This pest had a frustrating way of fighting and Kalama was forced to use her Shunpo in order to escape the rampaging dumpster. Who the fuck used such a disgusting thing to fight with anyway? The woman was clearly a weirdo, a type of person that the assassin seemed to be running into all the time lately. Yet, this brunette seemed to fight with a rage similar to her own. Her fire had been clearly stoked by something and the green haired woman was briefly at something of a loss as to explain it.

Up until words escaped the woman’s mouth, when everything became oh so clear. Now it made sense and the look of bewilderment that had been on Kalama’s face changed into something else. She actually laughed at the woman, a mocking one that would hopefully annoy the pest even further. Reappearing in mid air, about six feet away from her opponent, she’d smirk under her mask, amusement written in her distinctive eyes.

“So that’s her name? I only ever called her ‘Airbags’ because of that freakish chest of hers. I take it that you enjoyed the pics I sent then? I did try to make sure I got the right light when taking them.”

The fact that the distance between them was closed was helpful to Natsumi. The woman tilted her head, wide eyes hyper focused in on Kalama’s left eye as the laughter began. Natsumi began floating upwards, a slow fly until she reached the same level as Kalama. ‘Airbags?’ Natsumi had no idea what that was meant to reference, but assumed it was an insult, so she only became angrier.

Utilizing her own telekinesis to force her body forward in a swift dash, Natsumi’s hand came out to grab Kalama’s shirt. At this same time, loose pipes, a rusty knife, rocks, and pieces of shattered glass converged on Kalama’s location, specifically aiming to strike her in the back. If she grabbed Kalama, the point was to try and hold the woman in place as the trash-weapons hit their target. If she did not grab hold of Kalama, all of that trash would be redirected to the next spot Kalama was.

To say she wasn’t pleased was an understatement and as her opponent grabbed hold of her, Kalama knew she was going to be in for a rough time, hearing the sounds of incoming objects. She didn’t have the time to use a Kido spell this time so all she could do was brace, her back horribly ripped up as the objects stabbed and struck her. God, she hated this bitch already and as the pain wracked through her body, the assassin would growl with rage, her eyes starting to blaze with almost animalistic wrath.

Despite the pain, she wasn’t going to simply sit down and rot, surrounding her limbs with her spiritual energy as she released a barrage of punches and kicks, using her well honed Hakuda in an attempt to either get the woman away from her or turn her face into a bloody pulp. Either was acceptable right now and she wanted payback for the fucking weirdo’s previous attack. Her attacks were swift and fierce but not unblockable or unavoidable. It would be a test though, with Kalama being in just the range that she enjoyed the most.

The wild, almost psychotic look in Nataumi's eyes remained as her attack worked. Her smile stretched further, her eyes widened as the growl came. As the woman began kicking and punching, Natsumi tried to hang on to her. Her fingers tightened around her shirt, but the incoming strikes kept pushing her further and further back. She dodged one or two by moving her head, but more came. Natsumi's face was bruised, blood dripping from nose, and finally she let go of Kalama's shirt.

As she let go, however, Natsumi's telekinesis took hold of anything left in Kalama's back and ripped it all right back out of her. With a loud yell, Natsumi leaned back into Kalama, both hands up and sent a force of her reiryoku at the woman's chest. It would have no effect beyond a very strong shove, but Natsumi seemed to panic as pain set in from Kalama's strikes and wanted her back. In short, it was instinct.

“Fuck!” Kalama hissed in pain as the various pieces of shit reemerged from her body, leaving her back rather horribly scarred and bloody. The brunette bitch’s telekinesis was becoming an absolute disaster to deal with and just when she was about to launch a counter attack, she felt a force of power strike her in the chest, sending her backwards and crashing into the dumpster that the woman had been tossing around earlier.

The annoying pest was far more irritating to fight then Stella had been but Kalama was going to fight in the same way as she had against her. Her body was aching from all the pieces of shit that had been thrown around but the assassin did her utmost to channel it into rage, remembering her training from long ago. She was going to make this brat suffer, her hatred reaching fever pitch

As she got back up, she’d clench her fists and bang them together, shouting the technique for the world to hear. “Shunko!”

Her body instantly began to emit a powerful aura of fire, every movement of her limbs releasing a trail of flame that threatened to burn the alley to cinders. Her eyes would blaze with that same intensity and pointing her hand at the woman above her, she’d release a plume of fire, which travelled quickly towards her enemy. The gloves were off and if this runt wanted to see exactly what Kalama had used to beat her friend senseless then she could do so now.