WHO: Moon Knight, Ravager
WHERE: Warehouse district in Benjamin's Wake
WHEN: 11:20 PM approx, 11th of January
WARNINGS: FIGHTING. Features two mentally unstable vigilantes!
SUMMARY: Moon Knight finds Ravager, informs her that she's treading on his territory, and possibly pisses her off.
FORMAT: quicky-para-thingy!
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This be my turf, yo. )
Apparently, all Rose had to do was exist and morons would practically leap out of thin air to hassle her. It was becoming annoying. Whatever she'd done--walked past a drug deal, crossed into some cranky gang's turf, who knew?--clearly pissed more than one person off, and before she knew it, gunfire was ringing out across the piers.
Jesus Christ.
Running usually worked. But running wasn't really Rose's style. If these schmucks had a bone to pick with her, then she'd happily let them try.
And so she did, mowing down the first handful of punks who'd been stupid enough to fire in the open, under street lamplight. One, into the water; two, crashing into a stack of shipping crates; three...Three wasn't as much of a pushover. Three knew his kung-fu, or whatever. It went on long enough to encourage Rose to pull out the swords.
The fight didn't last much longer.
She ducked another volley of bullets as she drew her swordpoint out of the man's abdomen--woops--and ran into an alley parallel to the shooters, heart pumping, adrenaline rushing.
Come and get me, assholes.
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A swift kick to the temple of the man he landed on was enough to incapacitate him, but the man with the bloody nose was a trickier affair - he'd gotten his gun out, and despite having one hand against his nose, he was determined to fire - bullets careening off the building behind the vigilante. Diving to the side, the fist of Khonshu fell near a cluster of trash cans, and thinking quickly, grabbed a lid, throwing it at the man's head like a discus. Not hard enough to knock him out, but enough to distract him. Enough time to kick the gun away and hit him. And hit him again. And again.
After the scuffle and gunfire, Ravager might hear some very agonized screams coming from the area that she'd left her pursuers.
And then, with the crescent scar on all three of their foreheads, he began making his way down the alley that Ravager had raced down. There was blood on his hands and on his adamantium truncheon, and there was violence in the glowing eyes beneath his hood. He said nothing, merely continued approaching the young woman that had dared invade his territory.
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No.
She could feel something. Hear something. Footsteps before they made footfall, and the figure turning the corner before he even reached it. Three seconds.
He came into view, and she planted her feet, gritting her teeth. That was no ornery thug. But it didn't matter too much. If he was coming for a fight, she could give him one. Bring it.
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The will of Khonshu brandished his truncheon, watching the girl - didn't seem to have any firearms, which was good. The swords were a bit of a concern, but if he was smart, he could take this girl. For now, he decided to rely on verbal threats. "I told Batgirl that this was my fight. These thugs belong to me. You have two minutes to get out of my sight before I punish you like the rest."
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"Don't hassle me, Club-boy," she snapped. "It's been a long fuckin' day."
He was a big guy--as bulked up as Slade was, maybe more. The cape made it a bit difficult to tell. Huh. Must've worn white with the sole intent that the blood would stain--maybe scare the wusses away. If she was fast...
Oh, yeah.
She could take him.
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"I'm giving you one more chance to get out. After that, I'd be happy to make your day a bit shorter." He pressed a hidden button on his truncheon - immediately, a sharp end came out, his answer to her bared katanas.
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Rose flicked her left sword into action, hitting the dart and causing a loud CLANG that echoed down the alley. That was the green light. She took no time to savor her shot, springing into action, bringing her arms together to set her blades parallel, sliding on the slick concrete with her heels and making a low slash that was intended for his abdomen.
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He stepped back from the attack, not far enough to get away from the blades completely, but enough for it to only graze - two thin lines of blood appeared on his stomach where the blades had slashed. It was painful, but Marc had endured worse - and now she was open. Grabbing another dart, he aimed for the back of her left hand, hoping the momentum of her attack would throw off her reaction time.
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Shit!
She could see the dart coming, but she was sliding pretty fast--fuck ice!--so the best she could do is bring a leg forward to slow herself into a graceless fall. It didn't save her hand from getting a nice little gash through the glove.
Scramble up, shake it off. You don't get points for style anyhow. Sitting right below the guy trying to cut her fucking hand off wasn't exactly where she wanted to be.
She hoisted herself up by an arm, compensating for the struggle to get up by taking quick swings with the sword arm not occupied with maintaining balance.
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Springing forward, Marc parried the sword slash with his truncheon, held at a downward grip, before attempting to grab her exposed arm and twist it painfully, in yet another attempt to disarm.
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That truncheon smacked at her blade hard enough to move Rose into a position she found better footing in. She should have thanked him.
Her eye caught glimpse of his other arm reaching out--she spun on her heel, elbow up, evading the hand and hoping to connect the hilt of her sword with the side of his face. She wasn't going to waste time hoping it'd land, finishing her turn and jumping back two or three steps.
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Only thing to do, then, was to keep her busy. And appeal to her youthful sense of a good dare
"See if you can block these," he snarled, and threw three crescent darts - one at her head, two at her chest - before spinning the truncheon in his hand and activating the grappling hook function, shooting it at Rose's leg in an attempt to yank her off balance.
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Had he not started such a flurry of offensives, perhaps Rose could have seen them coming three, four seconds ahead of time. Two seconds to pick the targets to evade--what was most important?
She jerked her head to avoid one, turning her body to miss another, sacrificing a shallow hit to her arm with the third. Shallow, but--"Fuck!"--it hurt.
That turn was a mistake--One second. The pushed backwards with one heel and the hook grazed her leg--Two seconds--and that hook was going back to its master. She stumbled, finding her back against the wall of a building.
He was a lot better than her. But she was faster. If she could get this over with quickly--no. Diving in headfirst was stupid. Let him move in.
She pushed herself off the wall with her elbows, spitting over her shoulder and baring her teeth at him.
"Your aim sucks!" she taunted.
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But now they were at a stalemate. The girl was getting more cautious, now - smartening up, while he wasn't willing to go headfirst into those blades. There was something going on with her - he'd aimed the dart to her right, to take advantage of her apparent lack of an eye on her left side, and she'd been able to dodge the hook. Was there some sort of extrasensory perception going on? It was frustrating him.
But maybe he could use it against her. She had backed up close enough to that wall--maybe he could--yes.
"Let's finish this." He charged ahead, cape billowing behind him, and without warning, shot his truncheon through the air - straight past her. It was a clean miss, but the intention wasn't to hit. And if he was right, the sword-swoman wouldn't respond to the immediate threat - would write it off as a misfire, and refocus. Or so he hoped.
As he continued charging Ravager, the adamantium truncheon ricocheted off the wall, changing direction - towards the back of Ravager's head. The girl now had two threats to deal with.
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