Welcome to Gaia! ::

(( I just like saying it. biggrin ))


(( Right hand is free. Left hand blocks a blade that's coming up by intercepting it. This is where I didn't include the specific part in the post: you don't block a curved blade by hitting the outside when you're trying to step inside of it. You block on the inside and stop the arm movement. ))


For now he was quite content with pinning her down. That was the intent, after all... to get her to the ground and immobilize her weapons.


Purposefully... her legs were free, but her body was pinned beneath his and his weight was primarily pressed upon her arms. If he'd tried to keep her legs down it would have given her an opportunity to free her arms, and he was not going to give her that opportunity.


One head shot down; with Alia floored, she'd be stuck between a forehead and a hard place. Impact on both ends, and nowhere to recoil to to soften the blow. Yeah, James would have yet another headache today, but it would be a welcome one to distract from the gut pain Alia's knee had delivered.

He didn't assume a shot like that would knock her out completely, but after a heavy blow to the forehead her vision should be swimming; buying James enough time to replace that rod with a knee and press the flat edge of her right blade onto her chest, freeing up his left hand again.

((Jello, it was the part about how your left hand was holding a metal rod and her elbow at once that got me confused.))

Alia's head got rammed hard, and her mind began swimming. Unfortunately for James, she'd been squirming to get free from the get go, and the moment he released her right arm it would go flying out to one side, though it probably wouldn't cut him along the way. Might mess up his coat, though.

He could get his knee onto her chest, or onto her arm near the shoulder. His left hand was free, but so was her right. For now.

In the meanwhile, Alia's knee would jerk upwards again, twisting into the area she had pressed it to.

((I have a problem with you using coincidence to your advantage, yes. And the more you agitate me, the less fun this becomes for us both.))

Flare would jump backwards, trodding on Brad, her wings flaring out to either side for balance. That right hand glowed even brighter.

((There's nothing coincidental about what I'm doing. And I'm having the time of my life here, you're just all uptight n's**t.))

The hand could glow all it wanted.

How well Brad could focus on what Stryphe was doing with all the glowing hands, halberds swinging, and demonesses trodding, Stryphe didn't know.

But if Brad noticed it, he'd be staring down the shortened barrel of the shotgun Stryphe'd picked up from the back of James' truck. Stryphe pulled the trigger, unloading two shells into the air, aiming for the earth-mages face- specifically his eyes. The pesky man wouldn't be able to do much if he couldn't see who he was casting against. The shotgun spread would mostly likely do some damage to Flare's left leg and foot and possibly the bottom of her left wing, depending on how low to the ground it was.

Having only her forearm to swing the blade, her ability to cut was severely diminished. The blade would cut across the thigh, splitting his pant leg where it did and leaving an open wound; albeit a shallow one. That, combined with the earlier knee to the groin, and standing in the next few minutes would take a lot more effort than normal.

She would have had more luck bucking her hips and trying to throw him off over her head... However, it would be too late for anything like that now.


She would turn her head, exposing the side of her neck, and James would put an end to their little romp on the carpet; however short it had actually been. The 'flashlight' in the holster by his hip did look the part while it was under the coat, however as soon as he brought it out it showed what it really was. Two metal prongs protruded from the underside, and there was a set of switches on the side of the grip.

Without wasting time for a witty one-liner, he pressed the business end of the stun gun to the side of Alia's exposed neck where it met the shoulder, and pressed the button.

((Now your putting words in my mouth, and that's flat out annoying. Falling for Brad was RP'd as an accident. Call it whatever you want- me taking advantage of coincidence, even, I don't really care.

And that was a one handed halberd swing, the shotgun drawn from UNDER my right arm and aimed rather quickly. He'd have drawn it and fired as you finished your halberd dodge.

Read my posts- I swung with one hand, my right. At the same time Stryphe reached for the shotgun. End of post.

You dodge, hand glows.

Stryphe draws the gun- in that post I didn't write in where his right arm was or what it was doing. Why? Because yes, it's indisposed at the moment, recovering from the dodged halberd swing.

But I'm sorry, you telling me how fast I've drawn the shotgun isn't going to fly. Right arm swings to the left, left hand moves to his right side- UNDER his arm.

Edit or something. There was nothing slow or akward about pulling the shotgun, and even if there was something miraculously slow about it- the hand of God came down and slapped Stryphe's hand away from the holster- the fact that he had his HAND on it in my swing post takes care of that.

Stryphe swings (Hand on shotgun)-> Halberd travels through the air (pulled from holster)-> You dodge (More holster pulling? Maybe a little aiming?)-> You catch your balance after stepping on Brad (Boom, at the very least).

I don't know if you just didn't read my posts very well or have some problem with me at this point, but I said earlier it wouldn't fly. However, posting's going slow enough. To make you edit at this point would be affecting everyone in the thread. This whole deal only effects me, though. So I'll take one for the team here and deal with... this. ))

Stryphe's finger slipped from the trigger. Why did James have to keep things so well polished and clean?

Then again, maybe James didn't do that. Maybe Stryphe just had sweaty palms. Or call it Jesus.

Either way, Brad was saved.

Now Stryphe had a massive-a** fireball to deal with, and not a lot of time to deal with it. He was prepared- the demon man had figured the glowing hand meant something. He sure wasn't throwing himself at this one- his jacket sleeve scorched beyond help from the last time...



CRUNCH!

The fireball would carry itself deeper into the lobby, Stryphe gone. It would explode against someone or something, rocking the foundation of the building. Flare's power was impressive- but such a large frontal attack that Stryphe'd been preparing for wasn't about to actually hit him. The glowing hands were hard to miss- he hadn't anticipated how large the fireball would be, though. So it had been hard to dodge- but he'd done it. Flare's dodge had put enough distance between him and her that he'd been able to react, leaving the bottoms of his pant legs and boots smoking but his body unharmed.

At the very edge of the hole he'd created moments ago his halberd would be stuck- jutting out from the floor above. Stryphe hung from it- his strength and expertise at controlling his heavy weapons momentum allowed him to turn his weapon 90 degrees and thrust it up into the ceiling as he'd jumped and drawn away from the flame beneath him.

Now, with Brad at too strange of an angle to try to shoot, Flare would be taking the shotgun blast in the face. Stryphe wasn't close enough for it to kill her, but, like Brad, Stryphe hoped to disable her eyesight. It would be her face and shoulders that took the damage if she didn't, for once, trying getting the hell out of Stryphe's way. If she managed to GTFO before Stryphe pulled the trigger, the spread would pepper nothing but the door, and maybe a little of her left side. It would all depend on how quickly she'd notice Stryphe hanging from the ceiling and how quickly she could move her a**.

Her cold disregard for danger was admirable, but, in this case, it was also cause for pity.

Stryphe didn't need the help.

(( Got conscripted into hanging curtains. Damn. ))

James would get up and assess the situation before acting; he didn't loot the body for anything due to that they were in the middle of a fight going on, and she seemed only to have bladed weapons on her. These people, despite how they were now, had helped him out once back in the day. They might wake up with a concussion in the morning but they would wake up, as far as he had anything to do with it.

If Alia had a marble then that marble sense would be tingling.

Kaching.

Taking the time to remove the marble from her person, and then search her for weapons, James went to replace the metal baton into the holster for it, only to find that Alia's blade had cut it open. Instead he ended up tucking it into an available pocket which made it much less accessible than it would be in the other position. The stun gun went back where it belonged, however.

As for Alia's weapons... they went straight to the security desk, along with an unconscious body and a ten-spot for someone to go get her a bottle of water. She'd want it when she woke up.

"Well, s**t," James said finally, looking to Stryphe, "...let's call this place conquered and move on."

So they pushed over a teenager, took a couple of bags that were intended for slot tokens, and headed out.

Where?

It was time to rob a bank. An accessory bank.