Trish - Mission 17-#2) Antivenom - Trish vs Mr. Burr

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Description: Despite best efforts to the contrary Trish has to go and get herself involved. Her reasons are good enough for her, so many others are simply mired down and unable to fight this oppression, escape this rat trap before the world goes to Hell. Heihachi's hireling and guard dog is still there however and right in her path, initial first impressions on encountering the man were to cut and run as at the first opportunity perhaps she could simply renegotiate for better terms, it helps everyone.

Morning breaks over Southtown at last.

One would think, being positioned under the overpass, Mr.Burr would have little of a view of the sunset itself. Suprisingly, at the angle he has positioned himself, sitting on an old bench off to the side and not far from where his prior conversation with Trish took place, he has a front row seat of the rather glorious sunrise!

He sits with his hands on his cane, watching silently as the rays creep across the ground to illuminate what they can reach.

Despite having chased her off, he decided to stay for just this spectacle, and is not disappointed!

The southtown harbour. People were keeping away for some reason and the place was near deserted but for occasional patrols spotted at a distance and hidden from. That Trish did have to duck and dodge some figures that seemed to be patrolling would be a given, she didn't have enough energy for any other kind of response to them.

The explosions and fire that had recently eradicated the warehouse, that one they were using to store those V-Gage Batteries... it had opened all kinds of new points of entry and opportunity.

The security forces that had once guarded this site were absent, there was little of value remaining to protect. The heavy doors were easily bypassed through cracked and rent open or fire damaged walls. The place was a shambles.

The interior was worse, heavy shielding on the outside had amplified the effect of whatever explosives had gone off, baked in the fire afterwards like a gigantic oven. The organized hive of shelves of metal boxes are that must have originally been had toppled. The precious technological boxes and shitty unshielded wells burned and scattered in the open where they'd fallen.

But the contents...? It lingered in the air and crawled around the ground like a low lying mist.

All this uncontained and virulent chi, siphoned off fun-loving or desperate peoples in need of a second chance. And here was someone willing to profit off it.

The Ferrari's roar is deafening, foot flat to the floor the reinvigorated driver all but making the beast fly instead of clinging to the road. It's a familiar sight, many people would have seen or heard that damn ferrarii screaming around the city all night and now even during the day.

Not even twelve hours had passed since she made the last trip.

This time it was all different.

The same off ramp and aggressive throttling of the car as she winds down the ramp and accelerates into the dingy little concrete space beneath the highways, making her way under the bridge. She slows but keeps the engine revs high the last place she saw him, then rolling forward and angling the nose of the car around toward the curb, parking right in front of him.

The door swings open and the same woman from the night previous. A fluorescent pink V-neck halter top on either side of that cleavage and jeans, it's a far cry from what she was wearing last night but there's also a bounce in her step and cast to her carriage when she closes the door to the car and stands there looking at him, one fist on hip.

"Good Morning there!!"

The look in her eyes was unpleasantly fierce.

"On second thoughts I think we do have business. So, If you don't mind. I'm here to VERY quickly negotiate and settle the terms."

She'd make him a decent enough offer to make helping her attractive. But she was going to KICK HIS ASS and set the terms of the arrangement herself.

For emphasis, her fist collides with an open palm.

COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr has started a fight here.

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Mr.Burr          0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Trish has joined the fight here.

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Mr.Burr          0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0            Trish

When the sound of the car hits his ears, Burr perks up a bit. He knows the sound, at least currently after the previous evening. The license plate gives it away as the vehicle pulls up.

With a calm smile, he stands, tipping his hat to Trish "My my my..... well, your conditions and intentions in that case ARE clearly understood. I must say that looks MUCH more comfortable to fight in as well, even for a lovely lass such as yourself. You do it justice in any case". He is being completely sincere with this praise, it seems, should she be attempting to try to read him for a vibe of some kind.

He adjusts his tie and brushes off his jacket from having been sitting for some time, making himself more presentable, at least in his mind "Very well, my dear. I do not begrudge you this. Lets see just how much resolve you actually have follow through with where this path leads!". The manic grin begins to seep into his expression "I am VERY much looking forwards to seeing how far you are willing to go....".

He gives a small but polite bow, keeping his eyes on her, one hand held to the side with palm open, the other kept on the head of his cane. Standing back up straight, he raises his cane, and snap-fires a beam of sickly green chi from it's tip at Trish!

COMBATSYS: Trish blocks Mr.Burr's Cane Beam.

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Mr.Burr          0/-------/-------|======-\-------\0            Trish

A bare palm fingers splayed intercepts the beginning of the beam, threads of the beams escaping past the warding gesture but likewise soaking into and leaving her relatively unharmed. The woman leaning aside as the beam endures. Ring and pinkie fingers curling she frames one of her eyes in the gap between index and middle fingers. Her eye widening and pupil dilating as she aims down at Burr through the keyhole sight in her own hand.

Lowering her head and looking up still at she leans into an almost ninja posture run to suddenly be kicked toward Burr at a high speed. The circle sigils hanging behind her in the air, where they launched her forward, one of them at heel height the other where her wrist was. As she closes the same phenomena happens again and she turns her straightforward dash into a horizontal spinning instead, spirals her leg around into a mid-air sweep at the side of Burr's head.

This wasn't about resolve, this was about making sure he understood there was no alternate options or strategies. She would come out on top.

COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr fails to interrupt Gemini from Trish with Crescent Arc.

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Mr.Burr          0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0            Trish

Leaning into the attack, cane at his side, Burr does his best to judge Trish's speed. When the moment feels right, he steps forwards, sword drawn from the cane and swinging!

His swing is perfect! Timing, aim, speed of his draw. All of it flawless. With one exception.

He didn't expect the last minute spin, and she goes right over the swing, her leg connecting cleanly with the side of his head!

From sheer reflex he manages to resheath the blade in his cane, but the blow is unexpected in it's strength, and it dazes him for a moment as his vision swims!

Trish contorts her body to try to add to the evading process in a hurry. That was not a cane! He was slashing at her with naked steel; she most definitely was NOT the kind of girl who found that had any appeal! She draws her trailing leg up to evade the sash and leans back far enough her head actually vanishes and vision obstructed by her bust. Trish lands heavily and inelegantly, she wasn't built for this acrobatic nonsense. The twinge in her back as she lands agrees wholeheartedly.

With both hands grasping Trish lunges toward and up into Burr's personal space. Lunging for him like a crazed model intent on a starting a catfight, she reaches out to grab the brim on either side of his bowler, pulling down hard to jam it down over his brow and eyes; All while also pulling him toward her rising knee to the sternum.

COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr just-defends Trish's Charged Combo!

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Mr.Burr          0/-------/-----==|=======\=------\1            Trish

With a lurch, Burr is grabbed by his hat and his head yanked down!

How rude!

In his stunned state, he is unable to initially prevent it, but the sudden motion brings him back to awareness quite quickly. He tilts his head to the side, pushing with the momentum of her pull, his head going past her leg as his hands come up with perfect timing to break her grip! He slips around under her raised leg from left to right, removing said hat and coming up with it in a seeming uppercut with the felt-covered metal headwear!

If she wanted the hat, she would GET the hat!

COMBATSYS: Trish blocks Mr.Burr's Destruction Derby.

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Mr.Burr          0/-------/----===|=======\=------\1            Trish

Trish catches the headwear against her palm and jumps backwards same to reduce the impact. She wasn't prepared for just how high she'd get throw up and back, arms spreading wide to throw off some more momentum from her stinging palms. What was that thing made out of?

She lands a couple paces back and gives her wrist a flick while opening and closing it. Spitefully working herself up. Considering her next move to best accomplish this she also wonders what kind of other tricks are in play.

Not that it mattered.

She would have to beat him down regardless, it just meant the playfield was slightly levelled. She wasn't playing fair either.

Lunging forward she winds up her punch as though a pitch and thrown well short of striking Burr at all, it couldn't possibly reach him! Excepting the thick horizontal pillar; ornately decorated with symbols and built of strange lines and gridwork. The column was phasing into existence the same time it spears toward him. Aimed down her arm as an extension of it, she clearly intended to snooker him with a blow she didn't think he would see or believe coming.

COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr blocks Trish's Fierce Punch.

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Mr.Burr          0/-------/---====|=======\===----\1            Trish

Oh, he believes his eyes all right! With all the straaaaaaange things he's seen with the darkstalkers lately, he knows better than to take chances.

With a faint CLANG of steel he bats it away with the outside of his arm before it connects, the mental under his suit denting and bruising his arm, but otherwise he seems none the worse for wear! "A noble attempt, m'lady!" he remarks with a smirk as he closes the distance himself.

Reaching out, he attempts to grab Trish by the throat, squeeze, and while doing so lift her up and SLAM her into one of the stone pillars around them holding up the overpass!

COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr successfully hits Trish with Strong Throw.

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Mr.Burr          0/-------/--=====|=======\===----\1            Trish

Attempt? She chokes, with the meaty hand digging into the bottom of her jaw and holding her aloft against the pillar, it was a physical reaction. She couldn't cough but the armoured shell around her throat was solidifying neatly to protect her vulnerable throat. The downside was that the same protective measure wasn't in place at her back. The heavy jolt of an impact and being ground into the pillar hurt like the dickens.

'I'll take that as a sign you want me to try harder."

Trish seizes hold of the wrist choking her so but rather that resisting the hold she uses it for leverage as she swings her pelvis forward, draws her knee right up until it buries itself in her chest and lifts one of her breasts. (To the point there is a real danger of it spilling out of that top.)

"Careful what you wish for."

She stomps straight down at an angle. Not a straight kick to the chest or a kick to the body, an out and out illegal fight ender where she stomps flat at Burr's groin with her strappy sandals.

COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr blocks Trish's Fierce Kick.

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Mr.Burr          0/-------/-======|=======\=====--\1            Trish

Oh, she really IS a fiesty one!

Unfortunately, Burr sees the kick coming due to the windup, and turns his body sideways, giving her a much narrower profile to kick at, also robbing it of most of it's power due to the deflection angle. She would feel her foot impact the hard metal under his suit that protects that area (it's quite thick for a reason), and while it does dent it a bit and rock his body, it isn't clean enough to do serious harm.

He is still holding her by the neck, though he lessens the squeeze. He doesn't want to kill her, after all. Despite this, and his age, he is still able to hold her one-handed above the ground! He tsks, waving a finger at her "How rude! Aiming below the belt.... children that behave so poorly must be punished!". He smiles widely, grinning manically as he takes his cane in his free hand lower down the shaft, and swings the handle-end at Trish over and over again in an attempt to beat her silly with sheer blunt trauma!

He makes sure to aim for sensitive places that will hurt more than will do lasting damage!

COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr successfully hits Trish with Spare the Rod.
>> Decisive Hit!! <<

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Mr.Burr          0/-------/=======|>>>>>>>\>>>>>--\1            Trish

Despite the brutality of the beating, Burr DOES make sure to avoid striking Trish in the head or face. All the strikes are aimed below her neck level.

Being drubbed or whipped like this hardly seems to faze her. Trish had a higher tolerance for pain than the soft and pampered exterior advertised. Sisters at the Abby had a better arm and were a bit lot less discerning about where they'd strike. The jerk when she herself gained some purchase on Burr and then losing it almost immediately. She nearly broke her own foolish neck doing something so childish as a kick to Burr man-berries.

The rain of blows striking her breasts, abdomen and glancing off and around the one defending arm. Trish was a mess of red marks and welts, a tonne of bruises to follow. And yet the only sound coming from the woman was the sounds of the heavy impacts. For a woman showing off how unashamedly Rich she might be, fashionable and driving some ostentatious expensive toy.

She wasn't going to cry about taking a few licks with a cane.

Cupping both her hands around the bicep of the arm holding her up, she can't seem to escape from this position, she might be attempting some form of trickery.. one or another kind of weird magic user but she was also in part a normal woman. She did Yoga, spent some time running on a treadmill or working with free weights, she wasn't breaking this hold physically. She wasn't superhuman.

The slithering grip that winds down the bicep toward Burr is a repayment in kind. An ethereal yet quite animate white serpent naturally spiralling at the lunging speed one would usually associate with a coiled snake striking. Traversing the arm - going over and under, crossing his clavicle and going straight for the throat!! Quite solid and physical seeming to the touch it was still near invisible in appearance.

COMBATSYS: Trish successfully hits Mr.Burr with Ophiuchus.

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Mr.Burr          0/-------/=======|>>>----\-------\0            Trish

Well, THIS is interesting! Burr is completely off-guard to see this, but the idea fascinates him in theory.

What appears to be a manifestation of chi into a seemingly self-aware form!

Unfortunately, he's in no position to try to deal with it. One arm holds his cane, the other holds Trish by the neck. He tries to take a quick breath in before it reaches his throat, but only half-succeeds, as it abruptly cuts off his airway with its construction, while burning due to its chi-based nature!

With all his might, Burr turns and throws Trish, aiming as best he can for the pillar across the road from where they stand, before reaching up to deal with the painful creature with his now free hand!

COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr successfully hits Trish with Medium Throw.
- Power hit! -

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Mr.Burr          1/------=/=======|>>>----\-------\0            Trish

No! She didn't want that happening.

The serpent coiling around Burr's neck acts of its own volition in attacking him, and it wasn't to plan (Obviously!! /Nothing/ had gone to plan.) Torn free of the indent she was starting to scuff into the pillar Trish sails into the air with a sense of disoriented sudden freedom and panic. Starting to spin out of control she lists her torso and reaches down for the ground to make contract or try to start a roll going that she might -KER-ACK. The small of her back meeting mid on the second pillar her hand and arms, calves and legs, pass by on either side. Her whole body flexing painfully and protesting against the pressure and force exerted. Her too wide-eyed open and pupil shrinking down to points with; she rolls off the pillar and splashes to the ground at the foot of the thing in what feels a drawn out eternity.

After the second impact and lying still briefly, one shoulder rises as she limply contorts in pain, drawing her hair out of her face with the move. She's hardly conscious of anything except nausea at the moment, eyes water with a pain she can't feel and the nausea was a bad sign with trauma; If she stood up too fast or maybe even if she stood at all, she'd likely faint.

A faint scrabble with her hands and she reels in one of her arms and starts trying to prop herself up on her elbow. A painful venture and near fruitless, but necessary.

Circles forming either side of her on the ground they dilate open into holes in the ground, trash and detritus blowing gently away from rather than falling in, the two D shaped energy bolts that emerge leap up from the holes into the air at entry speeds, instead of flying at her opponent they circle back to her prone body a moment. Two angelfish, swimming through the air around her and moving sluggishly without real direction, as if they were inspecting the fallen Trish or... searching for their intended target. Almost on cue they both suddenly veer off into a crash course with Burr, both sweeping into gentle curves and rushing him from both left and right and intent on crashing into his body.

COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr just-defends Trish's Pisces!

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Mr.Burr          1/------=/=======|>------\-------\0            Trish

With a wrench, Burr focuses for the time being on removing the snake around his neck! While not burning anymore, it IS still trying, and he doesn't want it there!

He turns just in time to see the two angelfish-like chi beings circle around Trish to beeline for him. He quickly lifts his cane as he sidesteps the first to get close, firing a very small burst of point-blank chi from the tip, causing it to wink out of existance! He spins the cane on his hand as he manuevers back to face the former angelfish, bringing his cane up around behind his waist to point the tip once more at it, using the same method to stop it cold.

With a grin, he turns and slowly walks towards Trish "You have a fascinating talent, m'lady. Summoning constructs of seemingly solid chi? Is this the magic i've heard some have started using? or actually a martial arts method, i wonder?". As he closes, he finishes pulling the snake off him finally, tossing it, if still solid, to her to do with whatever she wishes. He stands there, hands resting on his cane, eyes locked onto hers "Do you yield? I AM a gentleman, after all. I'm perfectly willing to let you go without further..." he pauses, looking to the side a moment to think of the right word "..... unpleasantness. In fact, i would very much like to potentially do business with you once all this is over. You could be a valuable ally, both for your techniques as well as your capabilities".

COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr takes no action.

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Mr.Burr          1/-----==/=======|>------\-------\0            Trish

Pushes herself back up, willing both arms to work and only haltingly and sporadically making progress in her efforts. Propping herself up against the pillar to avoid slumping back. Her eyes seek out first Ophiuchus where it was otherwise writhing in agony; its pain was her and hers also a part of it. The injury however was hers physically.

The Spectral snake eventually begins its pained glide through the trash and stain covered pavement toward the downed woman. Tongue testing the air while occasionally when it slows or stops, the serpent clearly adopting an aggressively posture while raising its head to track Burr.

"That's.. the first time I've heard it... called fascinating."

A blessing, a curse, an obscenity against god or a miracle; White magic's or witchcraft had a complicated relationship with both humanity and religion on the whole. A cry for the witch to be burned would be higher on her list of expected responses than to be reacted to as or called fascinating. She deliberately withholds mention of just what kind of technique it is however. In this condition she wasn't in much shape to negotiate from a position of strength, every tidbit he wanted was a concession.

A long moment of consideration.

Looking up at him while doing little more than gasping, making no threatening or defensive moves she only lifts her hand to caress the head of the serpent as it returns to her. Brushing past the flat of her hand like a cat forcing it's owner to stroke it, continues on its path to slip around behind her body at its own pace and coils up to rest a head on her hip, skating past the point of injury and raising its head to look at Burr directly.

The snake and Trish, they have the same coloured eyes.

"I'm afraid I can't... yield. There's no point to do doing so, win or lose."

From the agony and exasperation in her voice she found the whole prospect of not being able to withdraw burdensome. What was she thinking, once a supporting player always a support, she was no frontline fighter.

Apparently not even having combat experience enough to deal with some admittedly uncommon street tough!

"The Zaibatsu won't hand over the Command Gear to Lord Raiden even if they find her. In response and true biblical fashion. He will cleanse--no, drown us with rain and rising waters. The city is doomed a dozen ways from Sunday."

Every threat compounded upon the others and any one achieving success would likely provoke the others into action.

"The world will likely survive, we here in Southtown probably will not be so lucky... and the devastation will probably ruin and set humanity back decades. (-Or as far back as the dark ages.) Ughn! I needed to ..reclaim some of the supplies back for the Zaibatsu. Treat as many of the injured as I can, Once things break down here there may not be facilities or conditions necessary to use much of it."

She was struggling to find a position the pain would lessen now she could actually feel it. This stupid quest was one part pragmatism, part purpose and part promise; her three P's. She wasn't lying to him and she expected this chain of events to occur no matter what. Humanity had despoiled the world past a point the gods would tolerate and not enough people were taking him seriously in his threat.

This wasn't the first time.

"..My intent. Was to get your help in transporting the goods before the Mishima could take it back off me. Let you know where to take it and what to do with it."

In payment, she would tell him this tale and aide in his own escape if he followed through with the deal. It was a debt so she would repay it.

"I'm not here to save the world, I'm no fighter. If the world is a little better in the days to come? People might also remember the names of people that aided them. I'd rather be owed that gratitude and favours if money suddenly falls in value."

There were faces in that crowd that haunted her too. Injuries people wouldn't survive if treatment were delayed several weeks. She wished they could be saved, she wished harder that she herself could be. But she had to try to do something instead of just passively watching. For the same reason she had to stop Lee Chaolan and bury his technology, the reason she blackened her hard hurting the fewest she could to accomplish her objectives. Save the ones you can.

Her Doctors she'd offered second chances to, bitterly working away there hours at her clinic for lack of anywhere else that would take them. Some would not even be able to practice without tools and facilities they were used to and required like they were crutches. She saw all this happening.

This wasn't the first time.

Bombed homes, field triage tents surrounded by screams and moans. Filthy conditions, limited supply and exhausted doctors; many of whom breaking under the strain.

A flickering tongue touches her earlobe and the serpent finishes coiling around her body, having emerged form between her breasts and otherwise encircled her body like it were a bondage rope the little beastie signals something to her with a flick.

"Do it.."

The snake constricts and draws her body back with a sudden jerk, the signs of pressure all over where it was pulling tight. A grinding, then and click and crunch sounds from her back as well as a sharp and piercing cry from her lips.

Bright lines form and flex across her skin, widening into existence and brightening gradually as the sluice gates are opened and the level of energy swells. The wounds and welts appearing on her arms and on the exposed skin appear to rapidly fade to unblemished skin.

She was healing herself though not at a phenomenally fast rate.

Gods! How many would die from the microbe lifeforms she had introduced to key points through the city, all to fight and ruin the V-gauge studies. Delivering pizzas to the hungry students or homeless like she was joining the celebrations, partaking in the fun while secretly she was poisoning them with every bit of contact or free slice.

She had some debts yet unpaid and reason to try.

Burr tilts his head as he listens "Oh, but it IS fascinating! Seemingly sentient creatures summoned forth from your own body, chi or otherwise. I've never quite seen it's like!". He can tell from the sense of her chi, as well as her injuries mounting toll, that she is indeed ISN'T lying, and that makes it all the more interesting to him.

One thing sticks in his mind, however.... "So you are not here to fight and win glory, or better your combat ability, or any of the usual reasons. YOU, my dear, are doing what you are doing for a cause. One you value more than the risks to your own health and potentially life".

He slowly begins to walk to the side, more being in thought than anything "There was a chance that, instead of me, you would be up against a more bloodthirsty or merciless opponent, delighting in your current state. Potentially eager to attempt to take your life as a bonus. This however has not stopped you. This greater goal truely drives you...... interesting as well as admirable. He laughs slightly to himself, not entirely in a friendly way "You see, i am being paid well to maintain my vigil and prevent anyone i come across from assaulting Heihachi in his dealings at present. That does not mean *I* cannot make arrangements of my own with whomever i choose, provided that condition is being maintained"

He whirls around to face her once again as he was before "SO! Here is what i am offering. Make a list of the medical supplies you need. I will direct you to an associate of mine who will endeavour to procure what can be found on the markets from that list for you. I will cover the tab". His eyes glow a dull green for a moment as he smiles at her "In exchange, you m'lady can owe me a favor or two..... and perhaps we can do further business in the future as well".

He holds his hands out to the sides "You get what you want, i get what i want, and we can end this unpleasantness". The green glow returns, outlining his form as his chi builds, making for an intimidating sight "Unless, of course, you are dead set in continuing. Now..... make your choice".

COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr gathers his will.

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Mr.Burr          2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|=------\-------\0            Trish

COMBATSYS: Trish successfully aids herself with Virgo.

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Mr.Burr          2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|==-----\-------\0            Trish

Trish can straighten up some now that the pain was lessening; the bindings writhing both release her and in response to her pain, the serpent slithering around her body while shrinking in size and length. For her part, perceptions broadening from the grey filled tunnel vision and colour once again flooded in. Paused and taking stock of just what kind of situation she was in her head had raised and turned, looking up to burr where she was kneeling, her back once again literally pressed against the wall like pillar.

Silent and slowly she begins to raise her arms, wrists raised to the same level as she shoulders, palms and wrists directed toward Burr. A wordless gesture of supplication, the proposed offer she was being presented with was close enough to what she wanted. She holds her position as such, hands raised so and there are no magical fireworks.

"Huagh... "

She didn't relish much the hints that there were bigger and nastier foes out there who would readily take her life or do worse to her. But this solution wasn't fast enough either, chasing products down over a market, moving it around in dribs and drabs.

"You're right. ... On a normal business day, it's how I would choose to do things as well."

This was an evacuation however. Time was the most important currency outside of the goods themselves. Pushing herself up back still to the pillar and hands still raised she leans there in front of him. hands raised still, hair and clothing dirtied and dishevelled from the fighting.

"But just today- Just today! I'll try playing hero in my own way."

She keeps her hands where they are. Brandon was out there somewhere; hopefully alive. She didn't know where and couldn't go straight to him to aide. This stupid charity was all in the hope it somehow spread or reached enough to help him, saved as many as she could but hopefully reached those she cared for.

"The deal is struck anyway, regardless of what happens here. I'll need everything I can get a hold of... -but I won't stop unless you make me."

She couldn't force her way past, completely impossible! That didn't mean she wouldn't try it anyway. Even as a faker or imitation Hero, they were supposed to do stupidly courageous things and worry about the fate of others before themselves. At least, in stories and strange one in a million people like Brandon.

Hands still in the air she declares her intent to get by him, daring him to strike her anyway.

COMBATSYS: Trish takes no action.

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Mr.Burr          2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|==-----\-------\0            Trish

Burr can't help but shake his head. On the one hand, he admires her tenacity. On the other, he has a deal to hold up his end of. She seems receptive to his offer, but at the same time cannot give up on her goal even if its a lost cause.

While he can respect that, he cannot ultimately allow such directly. It would be bad for his reputation, violate his sense of Business ethics, and potentially cause reprisal against himself or his employees. None of which are acceptable outcomes.

He tips his hat to her as she passes "Very well, m'lady. My condolences.....". He isn't entirely happy about what he is about to do, but such is life!

As she continues to walk past, he steps out from behind another pillar ahead of her, having gone around the side. He feels attacking from behind in this case would be too disrespectful for showing such resolve. He reaches for the hilt of the sword concealed within his cane, his body wreathed in greenish chi, and with a dashing step passes by, drawing and swinging as he goes. Without stopping, he alters course, taking ANOTHER dashing step coupled with another swing. Then another, and another! He rapidly steps around her in a square shape, each step punctuated with a devastating swing of his blade aimed at her. While he doesn't reach the usual blurring speed many others do, his technique is flawless in and of itself. As before, he avoids her face, aiming only for areas below the neck.

COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr successfully hits Trish with Mirage Dance.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///                           ]
Mr.Burr          0/-------/---<<<<|=====--\-------\0            Trish

She had no choice.

One agonizing step forward after another while a frightening foe stood at her back. The feeling finally building to the point she glanced back over her shoulder a moment despite her best efforts not to. He was nowhere to be seen.

The rasp of sword being drawn causes her head to turn appropriately. It was his intent she see the blow coming. The blade glides across cloth and flesh alike, after the first blow there's little to no resistance to the successive cuts. She hardly moved and little more than a flinch or the body's programmed response to recoil or jerk away from some sudden pain or injury.

The pink top turning black in wide strips that blossom and spread across the fabric, her still raised arms slashed across and the blood beginning to well up and roll down her arms. The slashed figure remains standing in the same spot; her only move is to let her arms fall to her sides as the strength to keep them raised passes. Lips firmly pressed together, eyes shadowed by her fringe and the low hanging head she could obviously see and feel the state of her wounds. Drawing herself up, she tips her head back to look up toward the sky... but there are no convenient gaps overhead, a view of the sky overhead. Would it still be sunrise oranges? Daytime blue? Her view is just filthy and ugly reinforced concrete.

< God, were you there still, or had you stopped listening a long time ago? >

The mercy blow to the back of her head sets her ears to ringing but rather than going down she begins reeling sideways when she tries to take another awkward and ankle rolling step, an unwise move she starts moving toward and near slamming into another concrete pillar at speed, an extended arm braces against and prevents the impact. Picking a spot where she should lie down and die? Or wandering off as her presence of mind and her goals left her. She seems to struggle with something, perhaps even just fighting the nausea.

She nudges herself off the pillar, and in the most suicidal of acts resumes her original course as though nothing had changed, one arm drawn and tucked tightly across her abdomen and covering one of the wounds she only manages four more steps before the inevitable face first topple and collapse.

Dusty and dirty gold locks spread around her head and shoulders obscuring them completely, a very slow spread pool of red forming beneath her, it runs in trails and groves in the concrete. In equal measure advancing toward the semi-distant Zaibatsu and back the way she had come to get to this point, Toward her attacker.

< God!! Do humans really deserve this kind of effort to save them? Not just sparing them, not stepping in and saving them! All of this ... just giving them a chance to save themselves? It hurt so badly right now. >

The hand she raises to her shadowy and obscured eyes remains clenched in a fist it covers her eye and hides the tears. Those were for her and nobody else, she wept because they hurt her no matter if she hid away or tried to help. They hurt her at every turn and so she was starting to fear and hate them.

COMBATSYS: Trish takes no action.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Mr.Burr          0/-------/---<<<<|

COMBATSYS: Trish can no longer fight.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Mr.Burr          0/-------/---<<<<|

Watching Trish, Burrs face for once sets in a grim expression. He is an evil man, cruel and vicious. Even he knows it about himself, despite his gentlemanly ways on the surface.....

At least, against a sporting and capable opponent! Someone in a state like Trish is currently in, however, there is little point in his mind. It isn't sporting battle at that point.

Merely mindless butchery.

It was why he proposed a deal to begin with.

As she continues, he does indeed send a final, carefully judged blunt strike with his cane to her head. Not enough to do drastic damage, just enough he hopes to knock her over that line into unconsciousness. He is actually relieved internally when she finally falls and does not get back up.

He looks up, at what only he knows, and points his cane at the overpass above, spinning the tip in a circle in the air for a moment.

Within a minute or two, several men in work overalls, and a trio of what appear to be EMTs or medics, rush down into the area. Mr.Burr points his cane at Trish, and the medics rush to her side, beginning to clean her up, stop bleeding, bandage wounds, and do a number on her as needed.

Meanwhile, Burr himself speaks in hushed tones with the men in overalls, who all nod and rush off. As Burr continues to stand guard at his 'post' as it were, his medical team ensues Trish is in decent shape before carting her off to the nearest hospital. He makes sure to take her car keys, and instructs one of the men in overalls to follow them in her car, and to park it where she will be able to find it. Finally, he takes out a small business card. It is devoid of any markings or names, merely a single phone number, black against the white color. This he places in her purse, which he places back into her car wherever she had it.

His instructions are followed quickly and accurately as one of the other overalled men begins cleaning up the blood, and not long after, Burr once again stands alone under the overpass, keeping watch dutifully.

COMBATSYS: Mr.Burr has ended the fight here.

Log created on 20:55:22 11/28/2017 by Trish, and last modified on 01:37:29 12/07/2017.