<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn.simplyshredded.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/61.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Isabella "Bella" Santos<br/><strong>Alias:</strong>Green Ranger<br/><strong>Time/Date:</strong>October 1st, early morning<br/><strong>Location:</strong>University Athletic Shop<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Anyone nearby<strong>Mention:</strong>N/A<br/><hr/><br/>Isabella had never been in a true fight before, not really.  At home in Brazil her mother had insisted she take up the study of Capoeira.  Part of their history she had called the lessons, an integral part of what made them Brazilian and showed their perseverance in the face of overwhelming odds.  Isabella had pointed out once that her father was likely descended from the very men that had enslaved the natives of Brazil.  To this day she remembers the closed fist of her mother’s strike on her cheek.  Isabella had never questioned the lessons again after seeing the outrage and hurt on her mother’s face.  She might be descended from the conquerors, but she was not allowed to forget she was descended from the enslaved as well.  In Capoeira practice was fast and in tight quarters, called The Game by those that practiced such things.  Even a novice learned to think quickly or have their peers dance around them laughing.  Nobody laughed at a Santos for long.<br/><br/>The warning took her by surprise.  Echoing in her thoughts just as the pressure on her arm began.  Signals raced from her shoulder telling her that she would either go with the movement or have that limb dislocated.  Unfortunately that movement would also lead her into the wall that the man used as a fist.  So she did the only sensible thing she could do and that was act like a complete klutz in the face of the man.  Legs hooked on each other as she threw her weight to the side and with his powerful pull on her arm.  While avoiding the fist her body did manage to find the shelf of newly stocked mugs and plastic bobbles for the upcoming sporting season.  A pause was felt in her body when she collided with the shelving before gravity took control.  She and the shelving came crashing down to the ground with a loud scream.<br/><br/><em>Well hot damn I got something to work with here.</em><br/><br/><em>How come the only thoughts I don’t hear anymore are my own!?</em><br/><em><br/>Sassy.</em><br/><br/>Deception was another part of Capoeira.  Isabella didn’t have to try hard to act wounded as she crawled from beneath the shelving.  Hands and knees she coughed and sputtered while pushing away pieces of wood.  Ahead of her the man bore down on her with single minded determination.  One hand made to grasp at her hair, but she hoisted her body upward on one hand.  A sort of hand-stand took hold as she began the motions to a common maneuver, a surprise kick from the ground upward.  The movement meant o take down an opponent that dared prey on the seemingly helpless.  Muscles tightened as she used her hand for the pivoted of the kick that involved the entire rotation of her hips.  She connected with his chest while her other foot came down to give her a landing and a method for transition into the next movement.  Most men would have been laid low by the surprise and power of the movement, but this man seemed more stunned than injured.  There was little thought in her mind of sticking around for this fight.  Weight shifted back toward her other foot, away from her attacked so that she tucked into a controlled roll away from him and onto her feet.<br/><br/><em>Daddy likes, but that won’t be enough.  In 1…2…3…</em><br/><em><br/>What the…</em><br/><br/>As the three count came down there was the sensation of weightlessness on her body.  Only then did she register the sensation of hands on her body lifting her upward and forward.  Pain exploded in her chest when her body connected with the metal beam of a barrier to the dining section.  There was no grace or form to her flight when she folded over the bar and then into a table.  There was also no deception in her groan of pain this time as she tried to crawl away from the man who leapt upward and over the railing.  When he came down his fist punched into the flooring where she was just a moment before.  Instinct might have been what guided her into the rapid rolls to the side, but the voice in her head said otherwise.<br/><br/><em>Shields are failing Captain!  Fire photon torpedoes!</em><br/><em><br/>Are you seriously making Star Wars jokes right now?</em><br/><br/><em>Star Trek damn you!  My turn..</em><br/><br/>The blonde haired man kept after her as she rolled away, each stop sending shivers down her spine.  Yet she rolled and then one foot tucked upward and she was rolling to her feet.  He charged until a front kick to his solar plexus that did more to push him back than to hurt him.  A setup fro the spin kick that followed, swiping the grin and determination from his face.  There was no stopping there for her though.  Her hands came up to her body and she danced around him on the balls of her feet, the fight not taking a different turn than even she could have expected.<br/><br/>He lashed out with a jab which she ignored, simply continuing her dance.  The next few jabs were meeting with the same movements.  Her own body made to feint, forcing him from the follow up as now the two seemed to size up each other.  A few people gathered to watch as she utilized a more exotic style of fighting than many were used to seeing.  Then came the attack.  A feinted jab that was meant to guide her into a rising knee, but instead she placed both her hands on his knee.  The movement did not stop his attack but only guided it away from her while her leg hooked behind the only one he could stand upon now.  Then a shove sent him toppling backwards.  Normally she would not follow but whoever was in charge now apparently felt comfortable with a ground game.<br/><br/>The hook was kept on the leg which her body now pressed on to keep extended while her other knee pushed into him to keep his legs away.  Fists rained down on his stomach and chest.  Some were deflected but there were some sickening impacts to the organs and ribs to show the tactic was working.  That was until the pair began to turn again.  Yet without think her arms and legs were snaking around to place the man into a leg lock so that when their rotations were finished she was suddenly faced with a morale dilemma.<br/><em><br/>Break it!</em><br/><br/><em>I can’t…that’s..I…that’s wrong..</em><br/><br/><em>He’s going to kill us both if you don’t.  Hell he might even if you do!  Break it.  He isn’t going to tap out Sweet Cheeks.</em><br/><br/><em>We!?  Who the hell are you?</em><br/><br/><em>The one who kept your buns of steel out of the fire.  Now keep doing what I’m telling you and finish this guy.  The others need your help.</em><br/><br/>There was a sickening pop and the blonde man grunted to register the pain.  Of course he seemed to react to the pain as someone driving a car might treat a flat tire, as something debilitating rather than painful.  Still the leg would keep him out and the kick to the head would put him out for a while.<br/><em><br/>Can anyone hear me!?  Is everyone alright?</em><br/>