The Black Dragon - Black Dragon R3 - Wicked Souls

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Description: While the efforts of the tag-team duo of monster hunters have put a small dent in the population of dangerous beasts, it is but a pebble chipped away from the foot of a mountain. Undeterred by the size of their task, they continue their travels along the outskirts in search of civilians left behind that might be rescued. However, instead of coming across more rampaging dark stalkers, they find themselves accosted by one of Earth's most wicked creatures - humans.

The first days of the violent darkstalker attacks were a non-stop marathon of duty for the miko, Ayame Ichijo, and the divine guardian, Riki. Moving from section to section of Southtown, they were never found at the front lines where beast and mankind clashed openly, fighting over every foot of territory. Nor were they ever located behind the entrenched barricades that humanity's defenders managed to get into place within the first couple of days.

Instead, the duo moved on their own through 'enemy territory'. Their battle conveyance took the form of an increasingly beaten up old dull tan El Camino. The paint over its long hood was speckled from naga acid, its front bumper dented from the times it was used to nudge obstacles out of the road, and its right headlight smashed in from when a roaming werewolf leaped into the heavy vehicle's path in a moment of catastrophically poor decision making.

The bed of the antiquated steel beast was Riki's 'seat', while the miko, perched on the large bench seat within, drove the American relic. Every spare inch within and out was crammed full of emergency supplies. Food, water, first aid materials, pharmaceuticals, and even assorted camping, climbing, and spelunking gear. The two tireless were prepared for just about anything they encountered in their endless search for people to rescue from the marauding darkstalkers.

But while mortal concerns may not have posed any limits for the oath-bound ogress, by the end of the second day of non-stop fighting, driving, and escorting civilians back to safety, Ayame had finally started to surrender to exhaustion. Since then, they have been returning to the Meian Jinja to rest, restock, and refuel between incursions back into the less traveled, largely abandoned sections of Southtown. Random battles against the violent elements were not their objective and they would generally keep driving on past any roaming packs of darkstalkers if there didn't seem to be any people about.

But anytime they found indicators that people were still outside of the 'safe zones', they would park the battle-worn El Camino, intervene against any of the threats encountered, and rescue Southtown's besieged populace back to safety. Sometimes it would take convincing that the huge ogress was there to /help/ rather than part of the attacking monstrous forces, but people tended to mistake Ayame for a friendly face and would be convinced without too much conflict.

A week into the attacks and the duo is once again at work fresh from one of their rests back at the Ichijo family shrine. Another drive into Southtown, typically moving at slow cruising speeds to avoid colliding with abandoned vehicles or other random wreckage filling the streets. There are fewer signs now of random victims caught up in the attacks and the roaming packs of darkstalkers seem to have waned.

From her driver seat in the old car, the miko communicates with her large demonic companion through the open sunroof.

"No one for an hour now... this might be our last sweep."

They've pushed far into the southern area of Southtown this time, having already scoured much of the north and western outskirts of the city. If there is truly no one else to find, it might be time to turning their focus to more directly assisting the military and NOL defense forces. The mastermind behind the violence had made herself known. Even though Riki likely favored shifting their attentions directly to the warlord herself, Ayame pointed out that there really was little hope of the two of them attacking the fortress-like casino all on their own. They would need to work with others for such an assault to be anything other than a suicide mission. Perhaps that time was fast approaching as the need for their patrols seemed to be at an end.

The rumbling battlewagon slows to a stop as Ayame notices the road ahead is thoroughly blocked off by vehicles and debris that seem to have been placed deliberately. Grunting, she applies the gas and turns the El Camino left onto into one of the few small roads through the large Southtown park, intending to cut through back to the north through it.

"So it seems like it was a human behind all of this all along," the priestess states, her voice contemplative while her eyes remain on the curving road ahead. When things first started, it was easy to mentally connect the darkstalker threat back to Jedah Dohma's unsightly embassy. But now that the woman behind it all had come out in a very open, public way, the 'obvious' explanation was certainly called into question.

"Aye," comes the quick reply. "I suspected as much from the start. We monsters tend not to band together in such numbers. Nor is it in our nature to coordinate to such a degree. Outside of pack behavior or roving groups of marauders, tis passing strange to see creatures of such predatory nature combine forces."

Unlike her diminuative ward, Riki's attitude towards the revelation of an obvious foe to direct their efforts against is one of excitement rather than pensive contemplation. The philosophical and moral ramifications of the discovery that a human is the one responsible for such destruction and carnage is lost upon the demon's Philistine outlook on life. If something provides her entertainment or challenge then she considers it a positive discovery. Only the tempering influence of her soul's binding to the lord of judgement keeps her from returning to her old ways of murderous hedonism, represented by the heavy manacles that yet dangle from her wrists and ankles; and, of course, the constant nagging of her companion.

The prospect of a good fight is one of the few things that the giantess loves more than overindulging on food, wine, and afternoon naps so it hasn't been difficult to keep her motivated the past week. That their ultimate goal might be to engage a powerful lord of darkness in mortal combat had turned her eagerness into an almost childlike glee. Discovering, instead, that it was merely another wicked mortal playing warlord dampened her spirits, but only slightly. Anyone with the strength necessary to command an entire army of self-serving monsters has to be a worthy foe.

"It has been many centuries since last I wrestled with a dragon," she says, grinning broadly as she punches one meaty fist into the palm of the other with a loud twack. "This one is a bit on the small side but considering mine current handicap I shalt not think it an overly simple challenge. The soldiers of the Library seem to have paid a heavy toll for such arrogance."

News of the NOL's crushing defeat at the hands of the Dragon had spread rather quickly through the various channels still disemenating information despite their attempts to keep it under wraps. While there are no journalists out in the field to take eyewitness accounts, technology has provided a variety of methods of watching things play out from afar. Strangely the Dragon herself had made no announcement of her victory, no further taunts to goad the prideful organization into further hasty action. Perhaps she believed they would be less eager to act so recklessly again; or maybe she knew they just didn't have the forces to spare for another try yet.

"Let us see to the dregs that remain wandering the streets, then," she says, finally addressing the initial observation that there seems to be far fewer sightings of dark stalkers of late. "The sooner they are swept into the garbage, the sooner we can take the fight to the master!"

Speak of dregs and they'll pop up sooner or later, and tonight is no different. As the priestess contemplates the barricade, several men and women come out of the nearby dilapidated buildings, some bearing baseball bats, others knives. Dregs was more appropriate a word for these punks than any Darkstalker. One such dreg pointed his baseball bat at the car, mostly towards the ogress poking out of it.

"It's one of them," that one says, and there's a wary murmur among the group as they surround the car -- though none stand directly behind it, wary that the driver might run them over. The one doing the talking seems to be the boldest of the bunch, because she steps forward and raps her bat against the hood of the car. "I bet she's stuck in there," she calls to the rest, rallying them to take cautious steps forward. She's a Japanese woman, though she had dyed her hair blonde and cut it short -- she wears a leather jacket, ripped jeans and hiking boots, with a tattoo visible on her collarbone, creeping up to her neck. She gets a good look at the driver, and seeing the youth of the priestess, is emboldened even further. "Get out the car," she demands.

Her courage inspires the others to approach just a little further, though ample room is left for the miko to obey their leader's commands. Most of them are gaping at the appearance of the ogress, but some are made of tougher stuff than that and see this as an exploitation opportunity. It isn't quite the army of self-serving monsters that Riki was looking for, but maybe they'll do in a pinch to sate her lust for violence. The leader of this motley crew certainly looks like she's here for a fight, a smarmy smile on her otherwise pretty face.

"You're in Yamaguchi territory," she shouts out towards the car's windshield, making eye-contact with Ayame while her smirk only grows. "I don't know why you got a Darkstalker in your back seat, I don't want to know! Get out the car and hand over your valuables, and we'll just take the car -- your Darkstalker included -- and we'll let you walk away without getting hurt."

This new variant of the Yamaguchi gangsters happen to be a byproduct of the times -- as fighting dominates the world as the premiere sport people are getting more into brawling, and these thugs were no different. While this group had nowhere near the experience to contend with either the ogress or the priestess, the scars and tattoos on some of them suggests these thugs aren't amateurs. One of them is spinning a chain, another is wearing brass knuckles. The cocky leader bashes her baseball bat into the hood of the car a second time.

The Ichijo scion is quiet as Riki speaks from the bed of her metal carriage, eyes on the road, expression reflective of the thoughts going through her mind. The darkstalkers that raided the city... did they have anything to gain besides the chance to unleash what seemed to be pent up frustration? To lash out with violence as it seemed they had been treated with prior to being set loose? Were they victims or eager participants in the horrors playing out? Certainly the naga seemed none too thrilled with their circumstances, but she couldn't say for certain what the werewolf's perspective was given their ability to communicate amounted to little more than growls, howls, and snarls...

Something Riki stated causes her to blink then frown slightly, fingers tightening on the wheel. "I will stand by when you unleash your full force on the darkstalkers we encounter," Ayame states, her tone somber, mind drawn back to the bloodbath in the stairwell of the apartment building. "Protecting them is not my charge."

She shakes her head, long strawberry-blonde hair decorated with a crimson ribbon tied into a bow swaying with the motion, "But you cannot use the same force against humans." There was a certain neutrality to the girl's tone as she spoke, her voice lacking any impassioned conviction for the declaration. It could be that her mind was not entirely focused, her eyes constantly sweeping the road ahead for obstacles, or perhaps she didn't feel as strongly about the prohibition as her words suggested she did.

Grimacing, she releases a soft exhale, "Anyone still out here is probably bunkered down. I doubt there is anything to say to get them to relocate inward. Let us-"

Motion gives her pause, the vehicle at a stop now. First instincts have her bracing for a darkstalker attack, her right hand already reaching to her side toward the staff leaning against the passenger seat. But realization follows swiftly - people? A native of the region herself, she knew this wasn't an area where gangs operated openly normally, but times were different now. Perhaps they were always here, just out of sight. Or maybe they moved in from elsewhere. Opportunities abound for those willing to seize them lately...

She can't use her review mirror due to Riki occupying the entire field of view, but the girl does flick her eyes to the side mirrors, checking behind her just in case. But first, she wants to know what the inclination of this group is. Do they need help making it back into the safer areas deeper into the city? Do they need supplies or rations to get them by for a little while?

She grunts softly as the bat rattles the hood of the old American beast of a car before she hand cranks down the window on the driver's side.

Not a particularly large girl herself, the large window and comfortably large bench seat she's perched on makes her seem even smaller by comparison. But it isn't with fear that she regards the woman with the bat, merely annoyance.

She listens, mouth curled into a faint frown. "My companion in the back is not one of the attackers you are defending yourself against. She is with me."

She makes no move to get out for now but this close, the gang leader would easily see that the interior of the car and whatever space is free in the bed in the back that Riki isn't taking up are full of supplies - food, first aid kits, and other provisions.

"Back away or I cannot guarantee your safety." the miko warms calmly.

Riki frowns at the miko's command, her brows furrowing. She turns to the side, draping one arm over the hood of the car casually, twisting in place to allow her to peer down at Ayame through her bangs as they flutter wildly in the breeze. The heavy stub of chain on the manacle around her wrist rattles noisly as it dangles down into the open sunroof, an intentional gesture meant to remind the young girl who her true master is.

"Thou doth remember mine purpose, does thou not? I was sent here to pass judgement upon a thousand wicked souls. No direction was given unto me as to the nature of the owners of said souls by my Lord."

The oni shakes her head, a wry grin spreading her lips to reveal a flash of sharp teeth.

"Do not tell me that thou art possessed of sentimentality towards thy own kind? There are villains aplenty that do not have claws and fangs."

Their conversation comes to a strangely pertinent end as a swarm of unusually dressed humans emerge from the shadows to obstruct their path. The demon blinks at this, clearly unsure how to process the situation. No one thus far has been willing to approach them openly, at least not without a great deal of cajoling from the miko that she wasn't there to eat any of them. The fearful mutters that pass through the group are more familiar. Riki is careful not to make any large or quick movements as she surveys the crowd, waiting for her companion to do her thing and try to calm matters down.

That is until the gangsters make their intentions known. The ogre's eyebrows raise upwards a couple of notches as the thugs /threaten/ them, wielding bits of wood and chain as if they pose any sort of actual danger. The sheer incredulity that washes over her stuns Riki for several seconds. When it wears off, it is only with the greatest of efforts that she doesn't immediately begin to roar with laughter. That it would probably not be the best way to defuse the situation. Instead, she tilts her face down towards Ayame again, one eyebrow quirking upwards as she wrestles to contain an amused grin that practically screams 'I told you so'.

"Shall I... restrain myself, my lady?"

The giantess's eyes sparkle with mischief and eagerness. Even if she can't squash these bugs into a messy smear on the pavement, it's been quite a while since their last fight and she's itching to stretch her legs a bit. Besides, a good thumping might help sort these punks out. She doubts it, but surely her lord will consider the thought behind it, right?

Every now and then even amongst the scum of society you occasionally find a diamond in the rough. One such gangster is here, a man who looks down at his crowbar and up towards Riki with dubious terror on his face. How the ogress addresses the miko gets his attention as well, and he turns to see if any of his cohorts recognize the bizarre and strange situation the group finds themselves in. Unfortunately, the leader doesn't see it from his point of view -- she's too busy staring at all those supplies in the back. Eventually she raises her voice to get the attention of the rest of the ruffians assembled.

"You hear that? She won't be able to guarantee our safety." She doesn't hold back her laughter, and the crowbar-wielding gangster flinches while backing away very slowly, trying to ease himself through the group and as far away from the car and its passengers. "This thing is with you?" She points the bat in the ogress' direction now. "If she's friends with that monster, we'll be doing the city a civil service by grabbing them both now. I bet there's one of those fancy awards on their heads, too." She's ambitious, if nothing else.

"Actually, Prowler, I think --" the crowbar-wielding thug is cut off by her whipping around to now aim the bat at him.

"Shut up, Steel. This is our shot. I'm taking it," she says through gritted teeth. Their cohorts mumble their agreement, weapons at the ready.

"Tch," Ayame grunts to Riki's declaration of her mission. "It isn't sentimentality... But staining your hands with human blood is how bounties get made." The girl doesn't press the issue further for the moment, in part because she knows she doesn't have to explain to the guardian oni about how human society reacts to darkstalkers caught harming humans, regardless how deserving the people might have been. And because she's already shifting her focus to the more pressing issue of the gang moving into the open around them.

Not one for idle chit chat herself, the miko is quiet after issuing her warning. Back off or else. The stare she levels at the woman with the bat along her shoulder is composed, her hands still on the steering wheel of the old car. Now and then her eyes flick to others in the group coming out around them but the woman who seems to be calling the shots has earned most of her focus for now.

When it's clear her warning isn't going going to persuade them, Ayame presses her lips into a fine line, looking somewhere between conflicted and annoyed. Diplomacy is hardly her forte as anyone who has talked to her for long would clearly confirm so she seems to be struggling to find the right words to try and de-escalate the situation to no great avail.

The laughter has her narrowing her eyes, cheeks turning just a hint pink. What might be taken as embarrassment at being laughed at Riki would easily recognize as building anger that the girl is consciously attempting to keep suppressed.

The brief exchange between the leader and the poor ganger with a lick of sense is only partially listened to. Exhaling, Ayame reaches to her right, hand closing over the wooden staff resting against the passenger seat of the car. Her left hand pulls the latch to open the heavy door, kicking it with her foot to swing the steel open in a wide arc.

"Only a little restraint," she finally answers Riki as she slips out to standing. The miko looks every bit the part, her traditional grab reflecting the pristine white, flowing kimono robes with long, billowing sleeves covering her arms, coupled with a crimson pleated skirt that covers her legs down to her ankles. Her right hand holds a wooden staff only about a foot longer than she is. Long, strawberry-blonde hair flows down her back and a crimson tied into a bow rests against the back of her head.

While such traditional apparel for a Shinto priestess is hardly unheard of, there aren't many diehard enough about the profession to travel around dressed that way in a darkstalker rampaged city.

"A lesson in manners is clearly needed here." Maybe she's happy to have a target herself, even if she's never expressed the kind of glee for battle the ogress accompanying her clearly has. But if there is any kernel of excitement for the opportunity of fighting off the gangsters, it hardly shows on her glowering features.

"When we finish with you, you will relocate to the safe zones further in. Having people like you out here just drains resources from those of us trying to keep everyone safe." Ayame chides.

Riki's lips slowly peel back into a wild grin, flashing a set of nasty fangs that look almost vampiric in nature, except that she has a slightly smaller pair jutting upward from her lower set of teeth as well. One could compare her teeth to a staple remover, to conjure a visual metaphor, save that those wicked chompers look like they could tear out things much larger than little bits of metal.

Planting her massive hand on the roof of the battered vehicle, the oni heaves herself up onto her feet. The car wobbles back and forth in response, its suspension groaning in protest as it threatens to tip over. A more sensitive lady might feel somewhat self-conscious about her weight after such a display but the demon's fierce smile never fades an inch as she rises to her full towering height, looming all the taller from her perch on the car. Now in full view of their would-be muggers, the 'dark stalker' lets the thugs get a good eyefull of what they're dealing with.

Riki's dark gray outfit would be considered rather bold even by modern standards and looks all the more indecent next to the heavy traditional garb of her small companion; in fact, the only thing that seems to connect her to the traditionally-dressed miko at all is a thick strand of heavy prayer beads draped around her neck.

Consisting of a single garment that falls somewhere between kimono and toga, the upper half of the dress sports the traditional loose sleeves of Japanese design but it quickly narrows into two strips of cloth below the waist that drape down between her legs like a particularly long loincloth. A bright red obi is wrapped round her mid-section and tied tightly with a large piece of hemp rope, pulling the narrow flaps so high up onto her hips that a stiff breeze could threaten her modesty. The extremely large amount of cleavage she has on display makes it hard to believe that she has much of that, however.

While this provocative attire might incline some of their attackers towards salacious thoughts, it also leaves the demon's arms and legs largely bare along with the unusual amount of muscle packed onto them. Few mortal bodybuilders could ever boast an equally impressive physique. The way that her strength seems to blend with her feminine form to create a perfect balance between might and beauty is both entrancing and alien, as if a demi-god has stepped from the pages of ancient mythology into the real world.

"Just when I thought today was going to be boring!"

Twin points of burning red light spark to life in the center of the ogre's crimson eyes, her pupils smoldering like freshly stoked embers. Thick segments of broken chain rattle as Riki cracks her huge knuckles, the bent and torn ends dangling from heavy iron manacles locked tightly around her wrists. It looks as if she has simply ripped herself free from a set of ancient restraints, wearing the bulky cuffs like pieces of jewelry rather than discarding them. A flutter of invisible power swirls up around her, stirring the demon's wild mane of golden locks into gentle motion like a candle flame wickering in a breeze, and the distinctive rotten egg scent of sulfur wafts outwards to fill the senses of everyone nearby.

It's a quick reminder that, despite her human-like qualities, the towering creature before them is, in fact, a freaking monster.

A monster that they just picked a fight with!

COMBATSYS: Riki has started a fight here.

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Riki             0/-------/-------|

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

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Ayame            0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0             Riki

COMBATSYS: Dregs of Society has joined the fight here on the top side.

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                 Dregs of Society 0|-------|-------
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Ayame            0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0             Riki

"We?" Prowler barks a cruel laugh in Ayame's direction, looking her up and down while shouldering her baseball bat after the priestess leaves the car. "You're going to fight alongside this thing? You should just stay out the way before you get hurt." When the ogress rises to her full height many of the gangsters look upon her, some with poorly poised admiration, others with much more appropriate caution. Prowler, to her credit, seems equal parts courageous and stupid, snorting as she stares up at the ogress, crinkling her nose. "What's that smell?"

Steel, on the other hand, has managed to edge away to the back of the group. But being a diamond in the rough means more than just having common sense. Steel has the redeeming quality of loyalty to his friends, at least enough to remark to the ones closest to him: "This is going to get bad. We should go."

Prowler does at the very least take a step back when she sees the ogress' eyes light up, but rather than call the retreat like she should, she instead bellows, "Get them!"

Ayame stares back at Prowler, both hands closed over the sturdy wooden staff that extends roughly a foot longer than she is tall. The surface of the weapon is covered with intricate, decorative runes and glyphs, etched into the wood with a careful hand. She's advised to stay out of the way and her expression twists into a bit more of a glower, mouth twitching slightly, though it's hard to argue that the oni rising up in the bed of the car-truck-abomination behind her poses a far more impressive sight.

It's obvious to her that any one of the gangsters would turn tail and run at the sight of Riki if they were on their own. But there is strength in numbers, not just in terms of the multiplicative factor of having multiple means of attacking from multiple directions, all their strength adding up if utilized effectively... but also in the reinforcement to will. The bonds of loyalty can bolster any flagging courage - at least to start.

The miko's eyes survey the group quickly but Prowler clearly has most of her focus. Could she rob the gang of its resolve if the bat wielding woman surrendered?

"If you all are in need of provisions, you could have simply asked." the girl remarks, slipping one foot forward, hands shifting to pivot her weapon into a defensive angle in front of her. "If your claims bore out, then we could have shared what we have." She shakes her head then. "But now it has come to this."

In spite her calm demeanor, she isn't naive of the danger here. Many of the gangsters are armed, and even without intense training in their weapons of choice, they still pose a threat if they manage to connect with them. There also seems to be no sign of the burning desire to fight that the ogress exhibits with her feral grin.

"Riki," Ayame presses her lips into a thin red line. "Let us teach them the error of their ways." She twirls her staff once in her hands, the wood swishing through the air with enough force to be audible.

"That they might decide on a better path going forward."

She holds her ground, not about to rob the divine guardian her chance to pommel the first target unfortunate to draw her eye.

COMBATSYS: Ayame seems to take no action.

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                 Dregs of Society 0|-------|-------
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Ayame            0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0             Riki

The miko has barely finished uttering the ogre's name before she is in motion, clearly anticipating the command to attack; that or her patience has run out now that a good brawl has presented itself. Some of these poor saps are actually being rational and look like they might run at any moment and she isn't about to allow their cowardice to spoil her fun!

The poor car screams in agony as she launches herself skywards with a powerful leap, recoiling from the downwards thrust of her muscular legs so hard that it nearly tips over, teetering up on two wheels until gravity drags it back from the precarious precipice. The crash as it slams back down onto the road is horrendous, a squeal of straining metal and abused spring coils, but it pales in comparison to the thunderous quake that accompanies Riki's descent back to the earth.


Bellowing a roar of challenge, the oni falls like a meteor into the crowd of thugs, grinning like a child unleashed into a toy store. The street beneath her explodes into shards of deadly shrapnel as the narrow slats of her ancient wooden sandals hit the pavement like industrial rock cutters, punching through the stone in a blatant defiance of natural laws. A localized tremor blasts out in all directions, literally rippling the surface of the street as if the towering monster were a stone thrown into the center of a puddle. The earth quakes beneath her supernatural stomp, rattling the windows of nearby buildings. Car alarms from the barricade of abandoned vehicles rise up in a cacophony of startled protest, shrieking and whooping in a discordant harmony reminiscent of an entire pack of alley cats having their tails stepped on at the same time.

At the center of what is now a spider-webbed crater of shattered stone, Riki throws her head back and lets loose a feral roar towards the heavens, reveling in the pleasure of unleashing her might upon wicked humans once again. While there is fun to be had in facing down monsters and demons, she cannot deny the thrill of being gazed upon with the awe and terror that is usually absent in such confrotations.

Some people had offered her the respect of fear when she first began to frequent the city but it had quickly turned into curiosity when she proved to be friendly. These days she felt more like an animal being oogled in a zoo, a mighty predator whose claws had been clipped and their muzzle bound, rendering her 'safe' for the average citizen to approach and marvel at. It isn't unpleasant attention, per se, but her demon blood yet yearns for days of conflict and war.


Riki snaps her gaze down to the gaggle of pitiful mortals who would dare consider themselves on par with a great oni in the service of Enma'O himself. Hellish flames burn in her eyes as she sweeps them across the group, dropping low into a sumo-esque fighting posture, arms raised at her side ready to swat or grab anyone foolish enough to take her up on the offer. She gives those that were knocked flat by her sudden cannonball into their midst time to rise and face her or turn and flee as they will. It matters little to her either way, fight or run, they'll not escape her judgement.

"Come and face me, if thou hath the courage!"

COMBATSYS: Riki successfully hits Dregs of Society with Earthshaker.

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                 Dregs of Society 0|-------|-----==
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////// ]
Ayame            0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0             Riki

"Run!" That's Steel's counter-offer to the gangers as Riki launches herself into the air and starts to come crashing down. He manages to avoid the full brunt of the shockwave, but the same isn't true for the majority of the thugs. Many of them try, sure, but they're too late; a few find themselves in piles of tangled limbs with their cohorts while the rest lie scattered about. Prowler is among them, struggling to her feet while her hand fishes around and finds her baseball bat.

Everyone was having second thoughts except Prowler herself. As others slowly clambered to their feet, some of them began to back away while the rest warily armed themselves again. "You heard her," Prowler eventually manages, speaking through grit teeth. "Who's with me?!" Several of the gangers raise uncertain pledges, and when she charges towards the ogress, they do as well -- trying to tackle her from every angle.

The Ichijo girl grimaces as the old battlewagon of an El Camino slams back down on all four wheels after her partner's violent disembarking. The huge ogress from ancient history might not have any idea what keeps the metal carriage running, but Ayame knows full well that the shocks are being pushed to their limits carting the divine guardian around town... And right now isn't a great time to get car work done either.

The end of the girl's staff thunks against the pavement at her feet a split second before Riki's violent landing sends the ground around them shaking, the sturdy weapon serving as additional balance against the tremor. Her own voice is quiet in the aftermath of Riki's thundering challenge to the surrounding gangsters as Ayame speaks up, not caring whether she is heard or not at this point.

"It is too late to run now, I fear. She would relish a good hunt as much as a fight."

The girl is grinning faintly at the pandemonium Riki has descended with into the mob. Maybe this is a good thing to have happened... it had been a while since they last encountered anyone willing to fight back at all. But the mob of gangsters are no strangers to a good fight either. It would be hard to imagine them being able to topple the titan that has just landed among them, but it's dangerous to underestimate the resolve of the desperate, and fear can be a powerful steroid in combat if properly directed...

And Prowler seems just the type to be able to direct it. Ayame flicks her eyes toward the bat wielding woman as she rallies the gang to fight alongside her against the monster. "Tch." the miko grunts. Standing up straight, she takes steps toward the leader of the gang, moving calmly as if the rest of the commotion wasn't going on around her. The staff in her hand ignites with a crimson aura that ripples along its surface like flame that produces no heat.

"Did you forget? I said 'we'."

The transition from approach to outright attacking is fluid, the girl stepping into a strong twist to the left, the rich red glowing rune-carved staff swinging toward the woman she just gave her warning to. The swing is fierce, air whistling as it rushes around the incoming staff slam targeting Prowler's shoulder with an angled smack from above. Ayame would stop her turn to the left, whipping the weapon back up from its downward trajectory, attempting to catch the woman on the chin with a jaw-rattling upward smack right afterward!

COMBATSYS: Riki interrupts Multiple Tackles from Dregs of Society with Charging Ox.

                 [        |||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Dregs of Society 0|-------|--=====
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////////  ]
Ayame            0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0             Riki

It would have been wiser for the gangsters to follow the advice of the one called Steel. But then, if they had wisdom, they wouldn't be low-life thugs, now would they? Nor would they have believed themselves capable of facing a demon in martial combat armed with some fancy sticks and bits of metal.

Riki might have felt insulted if it weren't such a laughable display of empty bravado. She has faced hordes of peasants rallied together to defend their homes as she and her warband crashed down upon them like thunder itself. She has slaughtered dozens of samurai armed with blades so deadly that they sliced through bone as if it were butter. She has stood firm in the fact of entire squads of armored cavalry. She has torn apart monsters so old and dark that mankind has never given them names. Though her current body may not possess the unnatural fortitude that she is used to, that fact has done little to dampen her fearless nature.

Perhaps her wanton disregard for the threat these bandit pose is somewhat arrogant. A mortal's body is quite fragile, after all, and she has already learned that the vessel she inhabits has its limits. A solid hit from a bat or a lash from one of those chains might break bones or tear flesh. But though she be bound by the trappings of flesh, her spirit is strong and a little pain isn't about to slow her down.

As the small mob descends upon her, the ogre's muscles bulge slightly, flexing impressively as she hunkers down to take the brunt of the impact on her meaty arms and shoulders. Half a dozen men and women hurl themselves at her, latching onto the towering amazon like wolves attempting to bring down a bison. She makes no attempt to stop them, giving the fools all the opportunity they might want to try and bring her down through sheer weight of numbers. Her arms and legs are grappled, each one getting its own gangster as a fresh ornament that dangles like a Christmas ornament from her thick limbs. Two more make to climb up her back and encircle their arms about her neck, squeezing as if they might choke the air out of her and take her down that way.

It isn't a bad plan, all things considered. Disable her movement, bear her to the ground where a dozen stomping boots can go to work on her soft softs. Were she merely an oversized human grown to abnormal proportions it might have worked. Unfortunately for them, that is not what happens.

"Hah! I commend your boldness, but if thou wish to best me in a contest of might, thou shalt need far more than a dozen to even the odds!"

As if the hundreds of pounds of thug clinging to her body are little more than inflatable pool floaties, the ogre leans forward and begins to stomp her way towards the wall of the nearest building. She gains speed alarmingly fast, her loping gait turning into a thundering charge within only a few strides. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what her plan is as she barrels on a kamikaze crash course straight into the brick barrier. Most people would consider ramming face-first into a wall to be inadvisable but the demon shows no such concern for her well-being.

The reason for that becomes terrifyingly clear as Riki blasts straight into the side of the building at full speed, letting out a bellow of amused laughter as she clutches several of the thugs to her body who weren't quick enough to bail out of the failed dogpile. Alarmingly, rather than the oni's face getting smashed flat, it is the building that loses that particular match-up. With a sharp crunch of shattering brick, a huge chunk of the wall explodes inwards, coughing out a thick cloud of powdered stone and cheap insulation from its new front door.

COMBATSYS: Dregs of Society blocks Ayame's Medium Strike.

                 [         ||||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Dregs of Society 0|-------|-======
[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////////  ]
Ayame            0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0             Riki

One ganger didn't charge at the ogress while the rest did. That was Steel. He even moved out of the way when he saw the priestess join the fray, scrambling backwards and behind a bit of ruined road that was the result of Riki's landing. He watches from his cover, gripping his crowbar with a white-knuckled hand.

Prowler did charge. She skids to a halt when the staff moves towards her, and it catches her right in the arm -- it's hard, and the gangleader staggers backwards, lifting her bat with her good arm to deflect the next attack. Her eyes are wide and frantic -- she looks manic and full of frustrated rage.

It doesn't help that the ogress is throwing her underlings around like they're nothing, and she staggers forward in alarm and twists her head in the direction of the building Riki just made a new entrance to, hearing the withering groans of her helpless men. It'd leave her vulnerable for the priestess to make another attack, that glance.

Steel is smarter than the rest of these lowlifes, but he's different from them in other ways, too. Prowler acts like she's ready for this life, but never had she considered trying to actually kill their targets. She doesn't know that during her exchange with the priestess, he flicked out a switchblade. She's too busy being distracted by Riki's counter-attack that she doesn't see Steel sprint out of cover towards the miko, trying to strike at her with his knife and then run for a new hiding spot right after.

COMBATSYS: Ayame blocks Dregs of Society's Sudden Shanking.

                 [          |||||||||||||||||||| ]
                 Dregs of Society 0|-------|--=====
[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////////  ]
Ayame            0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0             Riki

Prowler's defenses prove solid against the initial staff strikes from the girl in miko attire. Without landing a clean blow, even the crimson energy flowing along her weapon would leave minimal effect beyond the typical minor bruises one typically incurs when blocking against blunt weapons with one's arm.

Leaning back from her second swing, Ayame twirls the weapon over her head with both of her arms, leaving a trail of sanguine flame in the weapon's path. With Riki off fighting on her own, she can go wild with staff swings without worrying about accidentally smacking an ally, and the showy maneuver does a solid job in reserving a space around her that would be hazardous for anyone's head or body to be caught in.

It would force Steel to bide his time to find the perfect moment as Ayame seems most intently focused on Prowler while Riki... wrestles a mob. With how things are unfolding, the girl might be doing anyone she distracts from joining in the mobilized dogpile a favor by keeping them away from it!

There is a moment when Prowler's guard seems dropped that Ayame stops spinning her staff, just about to transition into another crushing swing to keep pressure on the gang leader, when she realizes the bat wielder has looked away entirely to the mayhem being wrought by the rampaging oni.

Rather than take advantage to thwap Prowler in the back of the head, Ayame pauses, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, an underlying distaste for attacking others in the back preventing her from taking advantage of the opportunity.

"Tch-" she starts to speak up to verbally warn Prowler about her presence again when she becomes aware of movement at her flank.

If she had committed to an attack against the woman, she would have been in no position to guard herself so quickly, but as it stands, her weapon sweeps down as Ayame turns, intersecting the incoming blade with a sidelong strike, knocking it just enough askew that it glances off her upper arm, cutting through her white sleeve, rather than sinking into somewhere more vulnerable.

Teeth grit, Ayame's right hand releases her weapon, slipping into the billowing white sleeve over her left arm, only to come out with a light blue paper talisman covered with dark blue glyphs. Already, energy flows over the small ofuda burning a pale, ghostly blue as her focus zeros in on Steel in his attempt to slip off out of sight again.

"Nice try," Ayame replies, flicking her right arm outward, sending the talisman into the air in the direction of the knife wielding gangster. It flies halfway before bursting into spectral flame and surging toward the man with surprising speed. A clean hit wouldn't burn like normal fire, but the sensation of ghostly magical flames coursing over the unfortunate target might incapacitate all the same.

"You have quite a loyal group here," she observes as she takes a step back and turns to the side so that she can keep Prowler in her peripheral vision without losing track of Steel for the moment.

The sounds of fighting drift out of the dark interior of the building after the crash of tumbling stone fades away, puffs of powdery dust flying out every few moments a something heavy impacts something soft. Apparently a few of the gangsters managed to remain conscious enough to keep scrapping despite being put through a brick wall. Seeing that their leader seems to be picking up the spare, the remaining thugs are left to deal with the rampaging oni. Judging from the occasional bellows and jovial barks of laughter, she seems to be enjoying that arrangement just fine.

"Come now! Surely thou canst do better!"

There is another dull smack and a moment later one of the hoodlums flies out of the opening and into the street, rolling bonelessly to a stop against the side of an abandoned car.

"Hah! Perhaps not!

The ogress emerges into the fading sunlight once again, trudging casually out to inspect the unconscious man with a look of disapproval. Comically, a fresh pair of the dirty bandits have attached themselves to her legs once again, their arms wrapped tenaciously around her ankles as she drags them behind her like a parent playing a game with a couple of tiny children. The rest of the gansters, those that can still move atleast, are hot on her heels with their makeshift weapons held at the ready, not that they seem to be doing much good. Save for a thick coating of dust and chipped rock litering the surface of her golden mane and dark outfit, the giant appears no worse for wear for all of the attention she is getting.

Turning about to sweep a giant hand dismissively in the direction of the gaggle of goons, Riki shifts her attention to the miko's struggle with the gang leader. As expected, Ayame is handling the loud-mouthed woman with ease, the difference in their expertise quite obvious in the graceful way the younger girl wields her staff. Content to let her ward have a bit of fun on her own, she is about to turn her attention back to the crowd when Steel decides to do something very foolish.

The flash of the blade as the coward moves up to strike at her mistress from behind changes Riki's demeanor in a hurry. The smile vanishes from her face, replaced with a twisted snarl of fury, fresh hellfire blazing to life in her eyes. But before she can call out in warning, Ayame once again proves more than capable of taking care of herself. Much of the anger bleeds out of the demon to be replaced with a brief surge of relief, though her ire towards the sniveling little worm who would dare attempt such a dishonorable strike remains quite intense.

Leaving the fate of the poor idiot to the miko's magic, Riki turns her attention back to the unfortunate gangters harassing her flanks. Though her smile has returned, the intensity of her fire remains stoked, and she coaxes some of that burning power into her massive mitts filling them with basketball-sized wads of ethereal power. Her attention levels on a pair of men with baseball bats and she flashes them a toothy grin before pitching one of the smouldering meteors at each with underhanded scooping motions.


COMBATSYS: Dregs of Society endures Riki's Flames of Purgatory.

                 [              |||||||||||||||| ]
                 Dregs of Society 0|-------|=======
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Ayame            0/-------/-------|=------\-------\0             Riki

COMBATSYS: Ayame successfully hits Dregs of Society with Reliquary of Lost Time.

                 [                   ||||||||||| ]
                 Dregs of Society 1|-----==|=======
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Ayame            0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0             Riki

Steel's eyes widen at the sight of the talisman as it bursts into flame and flies towards him -- the ganger begins running from it, but he doesn't get very far -- he collapses to the ground and curls up after the spectral flames course over him, body tremoring violently.

Prowler staggers backwards as she sees this, lifting her baseball bat in desperation. "Don't stop!" Her voice is a little more shrill than before -- the smarm is gone on her face, replaced by sheer terror as she backs up a few more steps. She doesn't turn her back on the priestess. The chaos erupts further when suddenly a pair of motorcycles arrive, two more gangers joining the fray with more sophisticated weaponry -- aluminum baseball bats instead of wooden ones.

While Prowler faces off against miko, the gangsters try to surround the ogress again, this time trying to harrass her by whacking at whatever parts of her they think might be soft enough to actually take damage.

As Prowler keeps her attention on Ayame, she'll find the miko is no longer pressuring her. Still wary, still gripping her crimson staff, but her stance is a bit more relaxed and seemingly not on the verge of attacking. It's clear as Riki stomps back out of the shattered wall (someone's insurance will cover that, right?), that the dregs are falling apart quickly.

There is no shame in their resolve, their fearless attempts to tackle the titan in spite the severe odds stacked against them, but sheer tenacity can only go so far in the face of such an onslaught. That they're lasting this long is a testament to whatever bonds exist between the dregs of the streets, and whatever charisma Prowler possesses herself.

"If my friend intended to claim your lives like the monsters that swept through through our streets... I hope it is obvious now that there is nothing you could have done to stop her."

Ayame's tone is cool but not overtly hostile. This was a lesson that had to be given... and that it let Riki unleash some of her pent up aggression in the process only made it a particularly opportune moment as well. Even as reinforcements come storming in, it's just like adding fuel to the furnace of destruction that is the battle charged giant.

But beyond that, the priestess holds her ground closer to the car, her dark red glowing staff warning anyone away from daring to get close to her. She's willing to let Riki have her fun with those who are able to muster the will to keep trying. Deeming idea of smacking the now shaken leader of the gang as beneath her, she contents herself to with reminding the woman of her instructions from right before the violence broke out.

"You will clear out of here, you will drag your gang back to the refuge. We cannot keep you protected from harm out here, nor can you protect yourself from what roams these streets."

COMBATSYS: Ayame seems to take no action.

                 [                   ||||||||||| ]
                 Dregs of Society 0|-------|-------
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////////   ]
Ayame            0/-------/------=|=------\-------\0             Riki

COMBATSYS: Riki barely endures Dregs of Society's Gangbang EX.

                 [                   ||||||||||| ]
                 Dregs of Society 0|-------|-------
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  /////////////////////         ]
Ayame            0/-------/------=|=====--\-------\0             Riki

The blazing orbs of fire hurled by the demon slam into their targets, exploding into miniature conflagrations that engulf each gangster in scintillating scarlet power. The true nature of the hellish flame becomes apparent only then for rather than scorching their flesh the raging infernos sear away at their very souls. Intense blinding pain washes over the hapless thugs, each and every vile deed of their miserable lives serving as kindling to fuel the flames of judgement. While the hellfire will not kill them, the suffering will be long and excruciating for lowlifes such as these.

"Thy wickedness is thy own undoing. Consider well this lesson, rogues, for such mercy shall not be shown thee by the lord of the underworld once thy mortal life hath ended."

Apparently the demon's idea of mercy is being kept alive while her victims are burned from the inside out. By now anyone with a lick of sense should be running and praying fervently to whatever gods they might hold sacred that their companions are slower. But gangsters are a special breed of stubborn, bound together by a twisted mockery of tribal loyalty. It gives them courage in the face of impossible odds, deludes them into believing that there is even a shred of possibility that they might overcome the beast that has been unleashed upon them.

The roar of engines draws Riki's attention away from the foot soldiers, her eyebrows lifting in mild surprise at the addition of fresh troops. But rather than seem alarmed, her grin only widens at the sight of the bikers rushing to join the fray atop their metallic steeds.

"Aha! And here come the cavalary!"

Lowering herself into a wide stance, the oni allows the mounted bikers to come at her just as she had the others, showing no fear for the weapons they wield. Perhaps if they had been smart enough to bring lances she might be a little more worried but a bludgeon of metal is not much different than one of wood. They didn't even bother to put some studs or spikes on the outside! Amateurs.

A pair of loud thwacks ring out as the angry bikers zip past the ogre, their bats swinging out to slam against her muscular arms. The speed of the strikes imparts a great deal more force than anything her attackers had been able to muster before. For the first time, the demon shows faint signs of pain, her brows furrowing slightly as she lets out a dull grunt. Yet hammering strikes that should have crushed a man's skull do little more than that. A few of the more bold members of the group that have been chasing her around on foot rush forward and take a swing or two, expecting an opportunity to take a bit of revenge. But even as they slam their own weapons into her 'soft spots', the giant remains stoically resilient, refusing to give them the satisfaction of crying out or staggering under the onslaught.

"Hah! It seems we hath made a mistake, my lady! Tis no common street rabble we find ourselves accosted by, but a traveling troupe of masseurs!"

With her back to the thugs, Riki tilts her head so that she can peer over one shoulder to spy the bikers as they rip past her and start to turn for another run. Displaying what little capacity for duplicity her brutish mind possesses, the ogre smirks down at the gangsters and points at a spot on her lower back.

"Focus thy efforts here. Sitting in that metal carriage hath given me a terrible cramp."

Whether or not her taunt has any effect on the thugs, her attention remains focused on the two bikers, though she tries not to be too obvious about it. Offering no resistance to anyone who wants a free shot at her back side, the ogre is strangely passive, right up until the moment the two motorcycles roar towards her for a second strike.

Whirling around, Riki snaps her arms out to either side, holding them horizontal like the branches of a tree. Her massive mitts spread open as her targets come into range creating wide hazards that the bikers will either have to avoid or risk being snared by the ogre's fairly simple trap. Should they fail to do so, she snatches them straight off their vehicles with a roar of triump, and slams the pair of thugs together in front of her with bone-crushing force.

COMBATSYS: Dregs of Society blocks Riki's Ogre Smash.

                 [                    |||||||||| ]
                 Dregs of Society 0|-------|------=
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////          ]
Ayame            0/-------/------=|======-\-------\0             Riki

The gangsters hit by the hellfire are certainly going to change their lives after this experience. Fighting a tall woman with supernatural strength was already proving too formidable. Adding magical flames to the mix was a once in a lifetime occurence, one they will never forget after their recovery. Steel is in a similar predicament, curled up and shivering in an attempt to soothe himself from the priestess's own attack. Riki's challenge to the bikers is met by them zipping towards her. One biker is snatched off his motorcycle, but the other manages to just duck in time, her helmet ripped off instead. She skids to a halt and turns to stare at her companion, her features pale with fear.

"No," Prowler mutters, shaking her head. "It wasn't supposed to go like this." Her voice tremors when she speaks, and she grits her teeth and then nods her head, exhaling shallowly. She calls out, "Stop!" By then her henchmen have already quit the field, anyone who's left standing from the ogress' onslaught moving to try and drag their downed comrades away.

"I -- I'm very sorry," Prowler struggles to say, stammering in shameful anger and fear both, her voice loud enough to carry to the ogress as well. "It's just...we're all hungry here, and..." She trails off as she tries to explain, fingers gripping her bat tightly. "We're all scared..."

COMBATSYS: Dregs of Society focuses on its next action.

                 [                    |||||||||| ]
                 Dregs of Society 0|-------|------=
[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////          ]
Ayame            0/-------/------=|======-\-------\0             Riki

COMBATSYS: Dregs of Society has left the fight here.

[  \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////          ]
Ayame            0/-------/------=|======-\-------\0             Riki

Having held back against attacking Prowler again, Ayame is clearly content to leave Riki to wreck havoc among the gang. What had started as a combined, unified effort to take down the ogress has devolved into a desperate flailing of ineffective strikes and futile attempts to tackle the huge woman. The girl's expression seems neutral enough at a glance, impassive with a hint of glower, but there's a sparkle in her eyes hinting at underlying amusement surrounding the entire situation. No longer poised to fight, she props her staff against the pavement and leans against it rightly.

That none of the gang have been outright squished into red paste by the ogre is sign enough that she's showing 'restraint', considering the unsurpassabe strength of a tiger unleashed among rabbits. At Riki's taunt that she's being assaulted by overly eager masseurs, Ayame's lip twitches, a flicker of a grin slipping through for a moment before it's quickly suppressed.

"Hopefully you leave them a positive review then, business is rough right now."

At the jab about getting muscle pain from being stuck riding in the back of the old El Camino, the miko scowls slightly, adding, "I am sorry it is not up to your exacting standards."

But shortly after, her attention is back on Prowler. The threat of being overwhelmed by the gangsters is beyond over. Their resolve broken, their ability to so much as inconvenience the oni they thought they could take put to question. Defeat is visible in the bat wielding woman before she finally admits to it, calling for the desperate mob to stop hurling themselves at Riki.

Ayame breaths in before releasing a slow exhale, standing up straight, no longer leaning on her weapon. "Very well." The point has been made - not only are they unable to win a fight with the traveling miko and her companion, they're clearly not going to be able to defend themselves should something large and dangerous pass through that's far less 'merciful' than the divine guardian. Combined with the lack of provisions and likely dwindling utilities, it's clear that staying out here in edge of the city is not a viable path for survival.

"We will escort you to the nearest safe zone." Ayame continues, her tone somewhat begrudging as she surveys the non-lethal carnage all around them. Riki might have spared their lives, but several are incapacitated or unconscious following their harrowing experience facing judgment incarnate.

"But first, gather your own, there is food, water, and first aid to share," she gestures to the fully loaded vehicle behind her. "Afterward, we will transport those who cannot walk. Some can fit into the car." Looking at the limp bodies of the blissfully unconscious, it's clear that not everyone would fit in the bed of the El Camino even if Riki wasn't in it.

Ayame sighs softly, then a faint grin crosses her features, glancing only briefly toward Riki sidelong before her focus returns to Prowler. "Fortunately for you, my companion is gracious in victory and will help carry those that we cannot fit into the car. It is the least she can do for services rendered..."

The unfortunate thug who was caught up by the ogre's snatch-and-smash finds himself bereft of the somewhat more comfortable impact with his fellow biker, instead getting clapped between Riki's massive palms. It's about as unpleasant as it sounds, which is quite horrible, what with all the crunching noises as the goon's bones do their best impression of a bag of chips being stepped on.

"Ah...? Umm..."

The oni blinks at the mangled gangster clutched in her hands, her expression becoming that of a child who had meant to catch a butterfly between her palms only to end up crushing it in a moment of enthusiasm. She turns to give the more slippery biker an accusatory frown as if to say 'how dare you avoid being maimed too' but there's a hint of embarrassment in her expression as well. And, of course, the cretins chose that exact moment to surrender too. Awkward.

Rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly, the titan trudges over to stand in front of Ayame with the brutalized thug in hand, his arms and legs dangling bonelessly like a marionette without any strings. She holds what is probably a corpse, or something that very much wishes it were a corpse, out towards the miko, as if the teen will have some better idea of how to handle this situation. It wasn't really her intention to turn the idiot into a pancake but there's only so much she can do to control herself in the heat of battle.

Riki shrugs, offering a churlishly toothy grin to go along with the body. She ignores the comment about being nominated as the pack mule for this suddenly contrite bunch of misfits. It's highly unlikely any of them are going to be eager to get a piggy back ride now anyways.

"More supplies to go around?", she suggests.

Shockingly, diplomacy is not one of the demon's strengths.

Prowler looks like she's about to look a gift horse in the mouth, how her fingers wrap around that bat so tightly. Eventually though, her grip relents, her expression conflicted while her eyes shift up to the vehicle in question. When Ayame offers supplies and more to the gang, she blinks her eyes in bemusement and takes a step backwards, before turning to regard the brutality of those the oni had brought down -- including the poor guy she still holds in her very hand. "After all of this?"

Despite her surprise, Prowler quickly recovers and begins organizing her henchmen to make the journey easier. Her gang quickly disbands afterwards once they are escorted, carted off or otherwise brought to the nearest safe zone. They instead help with the defenses of the safe zone they were brought to, and with the exception of Prowler herself, are rendered fairly docile and unwilling to do violence again. Prowler would later slip off one night, in search of something that is the subject of another story.

Log created on 14:56:02 05/02/2020 by Ayame, and last modified on 13:26:26 05/18/2020.