Malin - Southtown Syndicate Slam

[Toggle Names]

Description: Chinatown. A high school girl and picture of innocence flees from a band of destructive thugs loyal to the terrifying Southtown Syndicate. Who will save this innocent lamb from the violence of the citywide mafia lords? The Knight in Pressurized Armor, Potemkin! The Zepp Giant comes to the rescue in a daring, goon crushing wave of pure justice.

Footsteps pound the pavement. One set followed by many. The lights of the Chinatown district bright and glaring in the setting evening. Shadows play long and tall, people and building alike, and the dull orange glow of the low hanging sun mingles with the neons of the windows. People mill about, late dinners abound in the coming warmer weather, the streets are crowded. And these narrow lanes and pathways cluttered with people and detritus are serving the perfect locale for a chase.

Leading the chase is a small young woman, dressed in odd red clothing, her blonde hair kept in check by a scarf. She looks behind herself, recklessly surging ahead, to keep an eye out on the pack of toughs behind her. With a laugh, she skips over a fruit cart with a gymnast's grace and ease. Landing, she sticks her tongue out at the men crashing along at her heels.

The gang of toughs, older men, tougher looking souls in fading glory military garb, show little concern for the carts and cardboard boxes in their way. They clamor and crash like rhinos in their pursuit of a single teenager. For the people of this part of Southtown, they're a wrecking ball in human mass form. Citizens are slammed aside, tossed here and there, thrown back. Threats and challenges split out above the crowds. Jeers and taunts aimed and flung at the girl ahead of them.

Words, that is, and the occasional bottle. However, that blonde girl is quick, and she's leading, slowing down just enough to give her pursuers the idea that they may get to exact their revenge but never enough to catch her. If only, she thought, she really knew where she was going to lead them all.

Suddenly - there is a wall there where a wall was not there before.

In truth..said wall simply 'stepped out' into the path of the runaway girl and those chasing her - emerging from a wide side street to swamp over the entire sidewalk with its presence, preventing any ease route around, above or beneath it due to its..his..vast size.

A wall indeed - covered in a green military overcoat that strains against a bulging physique so immense the coat frames the deep dives and massive mesas that are the formations of his individual muscle masses much like the suit one usually associates with a superhero. Same with his leggings. His head is hidden from sight by a large helm while glowing eyes peer out at the incoming chaos with a look that seems to somehow exude mild curiousity despite the lack of anything 'human' like pupils in their glowing gaze.

The sheer size of him means that 'wall' is not all that inappropriate given that his chest spans the width of some semi truck cabs. and his overly large arms hang at his sides, stretching out into the streets themselves and the edge of what traffic happens to be around due to their width.

How he manages to get in the way, or perhaps not be noticed until it was to late, is a tale for another time. What matters is that POtemkin is here, now, and he's in the way of the mad dash group as they bear dowo towards his immovable form.

Hello wall. A grin spreads across Malin's face when the titanic frame brings the shadow of night over that portion of the sidewalks of Chinatown a little early. She licks her lips on approach, and rather than stop simply flings herself up and at the bulk of the man-thing's body.

Like a rodent, or a bug, or a particularly small cat does the girl climb and scramble. Gripping, flinging and leaping upwards to a lofty perch that is the broad shoulders of the giant with the glimmering red eyes. She's laughing as she goes, looking back behind her to watch the mob surging and urging after her.

They try to stop, really they do, but the ones in the front are only such a good barricade against the ones behind. Back meets front and front meets mountain of a man. With a splat, they crash into Potemkin, and swiftly bumble and fall back. Red with rage, embarrassment and gangland ego, the crowd settle in and dig their heels.

Above, Malin sticks her tongue out, again. "What's wrong? Not so big and tough when it isn't just me?" she taunts. Does she care or even consider that this hulking brute isn't going to just turn on her or even wants to be involved with a gang of thugs? Not particularly, the big man's height puts her near a window she's already planning on hauling through if things don't go her way.

Naturally, being nearly two tons of muscle and high tech Zepp pressure suit and gauntlets - Potemkin doesn't budge from the impact and slamming into him is probably about as effective as running head long into a small army of bodybuilders accompanied by the defensive line of at least half of the NFL or whatever passes for it these days.

For his part, Potemkin barely blinks, even at the scrambling figure that scales his body as if it were a minature skyscraper and little more then a prop for a bizarre retelling of King Kong.

He does, however, eventually speak - his deepvoice reverbating outward - human bu tnot robotic despite his appearence. "What is the meaning of this? Explain yourselves?"

Now he has no true authority here but he has the look and bearing of a military commander, even if he's..not one from this country. Even so, with NOL headquartered here he's sure they've seen their share of 'bizarre' suits and officers. Maybe they'll assume he's with them.

He does swivel his head to look towards the waif that is perched atop his shoulders now.

"Your laughter does not do much for selling your position as one of innocence. I suggest you sit tight and do not attempt to run and explain yourself. All of you."

The thugs are numerous, and carry themselves like toughs. But they aren't giants. Not like Potemkin is. All the same, they aren't ones to care much for authority that isn't commanded by themselves or the Syndicate. Not a one of them knows what it means to be deep in the structure of the Southtown Syndicate, but they do know it means they have a great deal of say to people out on the streets.

While above, in a sense, the girl riding the top of the tower of 'Temkin is grinning with the bought confidence of a cat in a tree. "Hey!" she cries at having her innocence impugned by the very landmass she sits atop. "I'm only laughing because I got away. These guys are with the Syndicate. They're a bunch of small fries, but they're trouble."

One of the goons, a man with a short high and tight and a pair of wraparound sunglasses, steps forward. Claiming himself some kind of leader, Wraparounds points a finger up and up toward the girl. "We don't got trouble from guys like you. We just want the girl."

"Negative. I cannot comply." responds Potemkin, easily enough and swiftly enough. "I am aware of what The Syndicate is and it is clear to me you intend her harm versus going through the proper channels if you have some grievance with her. As a result, I cannot permit this to continue as you have already disrupted these streets. You will both stand down and await the arrival of the authorities."

The Zepp soldier lifts a hand up and then clenches his fist. A loud *KA-CHUNK* sound occurs, followed by the hiss of steam venting as his gauntlets lock into place on his massive hands and Chi-Tek shells are loaded.

"Do not attempt to battle me." he warns, "I wish you no harm but I have the authority to defend myself. I have been told that the lightest of my punches is akin to being struck by a cannonball. Even with my limiters on, I can make no gaurentees regarding your well being if you intend me or any one I haee chosen as a ward, harm."

The thugs aren't used to these people not complying. They usually show up, be a group, threaten and posture and they get what they need. If that doesn't work, normally they have someone like Turner or Crawley handle the authoritative and heroic types that want to stick their noses into things.

This time, none of the leaders are around to take the force of the big brute protecting the little brat. So it's all down to numbers. Despite little room to fan out, they begin to spread from wall to wall of the alley and sidewalk. They crack knuckles, and stretch their necks. They bounce and ready themselves. "If you're going to be trouble, we'll just have to make an example out of you. No one's too big for the Syndicate!" Wraparounds calls out, dusting his hands and trying the world to not look like he's got no problem throwing hands with a man like Potemkin.

He is only so good at such a deception.

"Normally," Malin says, with doubt in her voice, "I'd handle this myself, but these guys gotta learn that people just aren't going to take this kind of crap anymore." She springs up to a ledge and with just a bit of fiddling, opens up a window to sit in, sneakers kicking as she sits. "I can't be the only one out there kicking their hornet's nest." The lamentation comes as she takes out a yo-yo to lazily roll down and up again.

" would leave this all to me then? I did not step in to fight your battles for you but to put an end to the violence on these streets."

Potemkin seems less then pleased bu tit's to late now. The thugs hve a backbone to them. Perhaps they fear failure and returning home with their tails between their legs versus backing down. In a place like Southtown - fighting someone with Potemkin's temperament might actually be the more merciful route.

"I will deal with you after this." he says while beginning to take several rumbling footsteps forward and begins approaching the thugs boldly.

Malin's face puffs when she's called out on her cunning plan. She nearly lurches clean out of her window perch when the great big man decides to basically, totally, one hundred percent in her mind, call Malin a spineless coward that cannot possibly handle the problems that she causes on her own.

"Hey hey hey hey hey," Malin interjects, leaning out of the jimmied window, yo-yo held in hand and pointing dramatically downward, other hand on hip and her whole tiny frame held by her instep hooking around the window jamb. "You're the one using violence to stop violence. That's like fighting fire with fire. And I can do that too, you know. I just don't have to be dumb and thick headed about it!"

At this point, more troubled about being ignored than any threat posed by Potemkin, the gaggle of goons begins to make a touch more noise and insistance as they brace for the oncoming thudding steps. "One more chance, big boy, you can haul yourself off to the freakshow and don't got to do anything to get your shiny hat crumpled," says Wraparounds. The others laugh out of solidarity and minor quibbles of fear.

"No? Get 'em," Wraparounds says, flicking his nose with his thumb as the gang moves in like a pack of hungry wolves around a big, coat clad moose.

COMBATSYS: Syndicate Goons has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Syndicate Goons  0/-------/-------|

COMBATSYS: Potemkin has joined the fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Potemkin         0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0  Syndicate Goons

COMBATSYS: Syndicate Goons successfully hits Potemkin with Multiple Tackles.

[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Potemkin         0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0  Syndicate Goons

By either sheer luck, them being stronger as a group then one might presume, or Potemkin just being sloppy - the pileup actually seems to work! The big behemoth staggers, stumbling under their combined impact and shuddering as they lurch up against his form and actually briefly bear his body down towards a kneeling position by pulling and piling ontop of him before he can get his bearings.

He also might have been distracted by Milan as well..but anyway..

For an instant he seems prime and ready for an assault with bats, bricks, broken bottles, chains and the like.. but then as one the pile of goons begins to rise up off the ground as Potemkin's mighty bulk shifts and adjusts and begins to brace itself of its own accord, effortlessly bearing the mass of the goons on him as if they were but a pillow of feathers. A massive fist then slams to the ground and his body heats up. His arm flexes as he presses his fist into the ground - muscles bulking up to the size of boulders that threaten to rip his pressure suit apart..

And this is then followed by a column of multi colored manifest chi that bursts up around the giant in an area of effect blast that ripples out from him in a billowing blast of energy.

COMBATSYS: Syndicate Goons blocks Potemkin's Trishula.

[   \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////////  ]
Potemkin         0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0  Syndicate Goons

"Drag him down, boys," Wraparounds, who didn't actually go for the tackle game, commends from his temporary leadership position. He punches into his own hand, getting excited over the initial surge over the giant, pulling him, weighing at him. This kind of ass-kicking would get him cred for weeks. And all he has to do is point fingers and jaw.

But then the earth starts to shift. "Uh, whyzit getting so hot?" gets asked by someone in the ball of meat that is piled atop Potemkin. A jutting, a bulging, a popping. The strain bursts up and out. A casacading ripple of power that flings gang members here and there, thither and yon.

With grumbles, the tumbled crowd hoists themselves back up. "That ain't nothing!" calls out one of the gang. "You ever seen what the big boss can do?" With their momentary bravery, they agree and murmur. But none seem just yet ready to impact.

"You want to make sparks, lets start some fire!" a cackling, high pitched voice comes from the crowd. A lean syndicate thug in a pink tank-top, hair coiffed up in a violently red mohawk, angles forward. He carries a bottle in hand and takes a swig. And with a light hidden in the other, he spits out a volume of flaming hot spirits out at the giant. All to the clamoring howls of the heated up gang.

Above, Malin watches with a cool eye. Attention isn't on her and in the heat, pardon the pun, of the moment she observes. All the while, her yo-yo goes down and up and down and up, a glint of metal in the inside of the disc catches the light of the flames the gangbanger spews. She holds back, it's not quite the right time to leap in dramatically.

COMBATSYS: Potemkin interrupts Molotov Spray from Syndicate Goons with Heat Knuckle.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////////         ]
Potemkin         0/-------/----===|=======\-------\1  Syndicate Goons

An elite Praetorian Guard, Special Forces, Covert Soldier being brought down by goons? Such shame is something Potemkin would never be able to live down once such information returned to his mentor, Gabriel.

As such..maybe he overdoes it just a -little- bit as he pushes forward and reaches right through the spray of flames in order to grip his monsterous hand around the torso of the flame spewing gang member. His huge physique swells again as the casings of his gauntlets open up and chi once more ripples thorugh the area along with the pure pressure of Potemkin's vast strength.

"ENOUGH! HEAT. KNUCKLE!!" he booms, anger in his voice now before his gauntlets fire off a blast of energy which distorts the air into a billowing explosion of force that flowers out from his hand and, once he releases the thug, sends him flying through the air. Meanwhile, around him, the ground shakes and the air pressure pushes back in a widening circle from the force of the unleashed shockwave.

"I don't care who your boss is or hwat your boss has done..but you have challenged the military strength of ZEpp at your own peril!"

The flamespitter, scooped up like a child's toy, is sent packing on a one way outbound flight. The concussive force is furthermore enough to scatter the goon collective to the ground and leaving the farther back ranks to fill up their line of toughs and violence.

Murmurs though, pass through the pack. Some in amazement, some in anger, some in fear.

"Some kinda soldier?"

"Nah, some kinda experiment."

"What's a Zepp?"

"Some kinda fried dough ball."

The talking can only last so long before Wraparound asserts his limited control. "We'll send you packing back where you came from!" he calls out. "It ain't even a real country anyway! Now get him!"

Weak as a battle cry it may be, it serves its purpose. The mob surges forward. Bats and clubs come from nowhere, knives and bottles. But mostly fist and boots crack down as the swarm hurls itself bodily at Potemkin with all their amassed rage and pride.

And above, the yo-yo stops. Malin smirks. "I mean, if you really need my help, you only needed to ask. I'm not going to leave you hanging or nothing," she says, finally letting her foot lower from her hanging brace. She tumbles forward to the ground and lands just opposite the crashing mob, outside of them and their circling assault on Potemkin Mountain.

COMBATSYS: Malin has joined the fight here on the right meter side.

[         \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Syndicate Goons  1/-------/=======|-------\-------\0            Malin
[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Potemkin         0/-------/----===|

COMBATSYS: Syndicate Goons has joined the fight here on the left meter side.

[         \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Syndicate Goons  1/-------/=======|-------\-------\0            Malin
[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Potemkin         0/-------/----===|

COMBATSYS: Potemkin blocks Syndicate Goons' Gang-Up Beating EX.

[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Syndicate Goons  0/-------/=======|-------\-------\0            Malin
[       \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Potemkin         0/-------/---====|

It's like assaulting a wall of adamant. Now that Potemkin has his bearings he's as durable as his immensity implies and the attacks that crash against him barely move or push him back - so much so that he actually reaches up and points over the crowd at Malin while he's being assaulted. "I did not ask for your help as much as Implied you should take responsbility for your actions and not leave others to clean up after you. It's clear you were no innocent in need of my intervention and are quite capable."

That said, he spins his attention back to the attacking thugs and he surges forward with a sudden dash - like a tank on high speed treads. His huge arms rear back and then both push forward in a double armed battering ram like motion as he thunders with all the implications of unstoppable force in his movements.

COMBATSYS: Syndicate Goons blocks Potemkin's Hammer Fall.

[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Syndicate Goons  1/------=/=======|-------\-------\0            Malin
[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Potemkin         0/-------/---====|

Skipping from one foot to the other, Malin overacts stretching her shoulders when yet another terrible accusation is hurled upon her. She puts her fists on her hips and can only hold a huff for a moment before she grins and winks. "Okay, okay, if you need to keep your big boy pride," she teases. "You didn't once ask for help, you demanded it like a manly man."

Malin flicks her wrist, the yo-yo kicks down, comes up. Once more it goes down. "Just one little trick before I help you out," Malin says. "I call it walk-the-dog," The yo-yo flips down, it clicks against the ground and skips up. A snap back and this time when Malin flips the toy out toward the group, it snaps off the string. Hurling like a stone, a pair of blades flip out from the hurtling red yo-yo, a spinning saw careening toward the gang members just outside of Potemkin beating range.

And there is a lot of goon within the range of Potemkin's mighty arms. He batters deep into the group, scattering the closest to the pavement. The ones that stay up, they part to let him in. Thinking, in their arrogance, that they are just encircling the brute more. Unknowing to a man that they've just presented a greater number of themselves toward the big soldier. "Light him up!" wraparound shouts. And the gang complies. Heat fills the air, bottles fill the air. They may not be fire spitters, that guy is a few blocks away and far from consciousness, but they do have a whole slew of fiery violence to rain down on Potemkin.

COMBATSYS: Potemkin endures Syndicate Goons' Molotov Storm EX.

[            \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Syndicate Goons  0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0            Malin
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Potemkin         0/-------/--=====|

"I see I will have to clarify my position." grumbles Potemkin as he braces his massive body and folds both of his buick sized forarms forward and infront of his torso and head. Just in time as fire rolls over him in a series of blossoming explosions from the impact of the bottles. Nearby windows shatter and dirty smoke and flames plume upwards around the giant, briefly obscuring him fom view.

But not for long. A vast hand, gauntlets super heated by the flames, pierces the rolling screen of dust and smoke and grasps a pair of nearby Syndicate Goons - and then moves to slam them both together and pound them lke a peg into the ground.

the rest of Potemkin emerges from the smoke and flames like some sort of ominou juggernaut as he rumbles, "I see I have misjudged the tenacity of you goons. I have requested permission to use my more dedicated arsenals and a few more percentages of my strength. I apologize in advance to this neighborhood.."

COMBATSYS: Malin successfully hits Syndicate Goons with Onigumo.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Syndicate Goons  0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0            Malin
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Potemkin         0/-------/--=====|

COMBATSYS: Potemkin successfully hits Syndicate Goons with Grasp And Pound.

[                   \\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Syndicate Goons  0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0            Malin
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Potemkin         0/-------/-======|

A slicing yo-yo carves through the back ranks of the Syndicate thugs. Several begin to back away at this point, seeing the danger a pair of fighters brings to the situation. Points and shouts mingle with cries of pain and the beating of feet against pavement.

By now, folks are watching the Chinatown brawl. A few are filming. Roving gangs have been a long staple of South town if one knows where they hang out, and seeing a group of them get bashed is a welcome sight.

But it's when Potemkin lumbers through the fire and flames of the bottle storm that the cheers start to come up that the resolve of the gaggle of goons is spent. Wraparounds remains, shouting to get the attention of the few stragglers that remain to stand tall against the much, much taller.

"It's just Rocco and G. They suck anyways," Wraparound calls out. "Aw, screw this!" he spits, turning and grabbing the shoulder of an associate. "Let's just kick her ass," he says, pointing to the small and blonde girl who just threw a blade hiding yo-yo at them.

The first rushes toward Malin, while wraparounds abandons his initial plan to pick on the weaker of the two opponents. At least this way he can get some good hits in.

COMBATSYS: Malin dodges Syndicate Goons' Hold and Punch.

[                    \\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Syndicate Goons  0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0            Malin
[          \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Potemkin         0/-------/-======|

A grinning Malin greets Wraparounds with a wave, ducking as a goon comes hurtling through the air after the cacophonous punishment being laid out by Potemkin. The shear, unmitigated force of his movements sucking enough air to douse the flames created by the heated molotovs.

Okay, Malin thinks, don't fight the big guy, as she skips to the right and lets a goon charge past her. She twists and leaps at the wall, running up the side when Wraparounds punches the air that once held a Malin. Arching up after flipping, she turns in the air and rockets down toward her particular goon, revealing a concealed set of clawed blades smuggled against her wrist.

Potemkin falls.

Not a trip, per se, he just sort of falls over..deliverately. His gigantic frame hurtles itself to the ground and upon impact a thunderous *BOOOM* occurs that rocks the entire area some distance of a city block. The shockwave ripples out from him. The epicenter of a Potemkin-Quake, that sends trashbins, cans, stray cats, bystanders, and more off their feet but worse yet are those thugs nearest to him as the shockwave ripples out from him in a force wave that would likely make them prefer they'd just been hit with a car instead.

"Try not to escalate matters even worse and let us finish this quickly." he advises to Malin, while still laying on the ground face first. A moment later and he's rolling back up towards his feet.

COMBATSYS: Syndicate Goons dodges Malin's Suzume Bachi Kuuchuu.

[                    \\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Syndicate Goons  0/-------/--=====|=------\-------\0            Malin
[           \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Potemkin         0/-------/=======|

COMBATSYS: Syndicate Goons blocks Potemkin's Slide Head.

[                       \\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Syndicate Goons  1/-------/=======|=------\-------\0            Malin
[           \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Potemkin         1/-------/=======|

A crushing crashing cacophony. Trash, food carts, food cart patrons, gangsters and high school girls bounce and bound up into the air in the wake of the wreck of the Potemkin. Some of the Syndicate Goons hold firm, some shake to the ground.

Once more it falls to Wraparounds to try and corral his goons. Even in the midst of trying to get his hands on the sprightly Malin. While she's shifted out of the way, he's just as quick on his feet when the girl comes barreling in at him. "The kid's a distraction, she ain't nothing, take the big guy while he's down!"

The order is soon meaningless as Potemkin is up to his feet. Malin, having swung hard, bounces herself off Potemkin's massive leg for stability. "There's, like, six of them left, that's nothing. Easy peasy," Malin tells Potemkin, giving the giant a gentle pat on the thigh. "Don't worry so much, Malin's here for you."

"What are you all just waiting around for! Kick their asses!" Wraparound shouts, shoving a particularly rotund remainder before giving the bloke a kick in the rear to get going. With a shout, a mixture of battle cries and uncertainties. The remaining Syndicate thugs all hurl themselves toward Potemkin in a final bid to establish their dominance!

Malin, slippery little eel that she is, rolls forward like a ball to explode forth at the still lingering back Wraparounds. In her hand appears a secreted little stick that crackles with electricity.

COMBATSYS: Syndicate Goons successfully hits Potemkin with Gangbang.
- Power hit! -

[                        \\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////    ]
Syndicate Goons  0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0            Malin
[           \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Potemkin         1/-------/=======|

Uh oh. Triggered.

"I do not require -protection!-" Potemkin has dealt with, in recent months, troubles with his feelings on himself as a warrior and being adequate to the task. He may be among the biggest and strongest beings in the world but so often it seems that he just can't cut it. If this gang of goons is capable of weathering him and pulling him down - that just speaks much of his current mindset and possibly, abilities.

He's just not having that.

As the gang members descend upon him, he holds firm like some sort of invulnerable juggernaut. Body not even seeming to register the blows as he lifts a huge arm up and clenches a fist the size of a door. A flex later and his entire sleeve shreds apart - a bicep the size of a buick bulking up thunderously as he curls his arm and winds back - some sort of ancient medevial trebuchet cranking back before unleashing its full strength.

"MAGNUM..OPERA!!!" he thunders before swinging A fist powerful enough to demolish buildings hurtling around and the entire area shaking from the sudden unleash of force...except he's no murderer. At the last second he pulls back. Cranking his muscles in reverse and causing his fist to act like a massive piston against the air. Not that this means things ae safe. Far from it. The thugs may avoid being like a nail against a hammre bu tinstead a shockwave explodes out that rips away from the behemoth, following the direction of his punch, to send anything near him whirling away like leaves caught in gale force winds and this is just the edge of the shockwave that i smeant to actually strike anything. The central force barrels onward, ripping and gouging up a trench into the streets and blasting into buildings, going through them to create a throughline of canyon like openings from the force of Potemkin's blow. THe bruiser very much going for the Scare-Tactic and a sense of pride now with his anger unleashed.

COMBATSYS: Malin successfully hits Syndicate Goons with Beni Sasori.

[                            \\  < >  //////////////////////////    ]
Syndicate Goons  0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0            Malin
[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Potemkin         0/-------/-----==|

COMBATSYS: Potemkin knocks away Syndicate Goons with Magnum Opera.

[                                < >  //////////////////////////    ]
Syndicate Goons  1/--=====/=======|==-----\-------\0            Malin
[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Potemkin         0/-------/-----==|

A blonde streak of red slips and slinks past the handful of thugs making their final charge for the great and powerful Potemkin. Malin has her target, and it's the noisiest one of them all. A roll, a leap and that sparking little mini cattle prod slams square in the shouting gang banger's breadbasket.

The crowd of thugs pounds away at Potemkin. The few that remain, that is. Confidence soars with each landing blow. But as the big man doesn't abate, they punches and kicks slow. They come with less force, less concern, and more and more realization. They see the heavy hand of Zepp justice cock back the hammer.

A quite "Aw Shi-" comes from the gang.

The world explodes. A cannon of air crashes and cleans house. A bore hole drilled in the alley, through a chunk of building or two, rumbling up the street. Glass shatters. A small girl huddles near the most stable thing in the storm, Potemkin himself. And in the distance, several tiny silhouettes hurtle toward the horizon.

There is silence in the wake of the disaster. Silence and stillness normally reserved for the aftermath of a terrible storm. Somewhere, a bird chirps.

From aside Potemkin, a small feeling of weight. The slip of a teenager, playing with a yo-yo, leans her free hand against Potemkin's leg in a lean. "Dang," she comments.

COMBATSYS: Syndicate Goons lets out a large yawn, slouching.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////    ]
Potemkin         0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0            Malin

COMBATSYS: Syndicate Goons can no longer fight.

[              \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////    ]
Potemkin         0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0            Malin

Potemkin is a soldier. His power has been compared to that of a battalion of normal men and he's been deployed as such before. So this sort of thing is part of the job but..thes were just thugs and that realization dawns back upon him as he realizes that in his anger he shredded his limiter pressure suit and basically demolished the area with the thugs nowheer in sight, being carried away by his shockwave "I..hrn.." he rumbles, frusrated with himself as opposed to pleased with the victory.

"I lost my temper. That was not necessary to deal with them." Logically, he reminds himself, that there i sno telling what harm they may have caused and what lives they've ruined or taken so..karma. And there is the fact that the Syndfcate have its share of powerhouses in their employ.. but..Potemkin is an artist first and a man of peace. A soldier and a fighter second, despite his efforts to the contrary. He does not like such overwhelming crushing victory over those weaker then he.

But..such is life. "Now then." he says, regathering his wits and turning his full attention to Malin. "What do we do with you..."

COMBATSYS: Potemkin takes no action.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////    ]
Potemkin         0/-------/-----==|==-----\-------\0            Malin

Yo-yo go down, yo-yo go up. Down and up and up and down. Malin listens as the big big big man realizes just what he did to both his shirt and the goons. For all his troubles and frustrations, Malin gives Potemkin a gentle and broad patting and a smirking, "There there."

"Just think, you saved a girl from a big group of nasty extortionist thugs who prey on little old ladies and wear outdated clothing," Malin tells Potemkin with a tone that suggests that her logic in unassailable and comforting. She is also, as a matter of fact, strolling away from Potemkin at an easy amble at the same time.

"I should probably get back to school, or home, yeah, because I have school in the morning," she says, excusing herself in more than one mutually exclusive way. "The neighborhood should thank you for all your hard work, big guy. Those guys have been evvvverywhere in the last couple months. You'd think they'd won a gang war or something."


It seems not worth it and at the end of the day, the basic truth of her words are..well..true.

"Very well." he responds with the 'Don't let me catch you in the middle of trouble like this again' tone rolling in his voice. For now, he waits as his handlers have already contacted the authorities and there is some explaining to do.

COMBATSYS: Potemkin has left the fight here.

                                  >  //////////////////////////    ]
                                  |==-----\-------\0            Malin

COMBATSYS: Malin has ended the fight here.

Log created on 01:21:45 05/06/2019 by Malin, and last modified on 02:22:31 05/10/2019.