[center][h3][color=lightblue][u]    < CEDRO >    [/u][/color][/h3][/center]

Pain... painful... pained... it had hurt. Trading blows had been the best decision, the damage done to himself felt minimal, though it stung he could take it. The second runner managed to evade Cedro with an act of extreme acrobatics, and cracked his own weapon against Cedro's side, causing a grunt of pain. Cedro heard the bullets wizzing through the air around his head... death... dying... dead... he wasn't yet. He growled at the taunting figure, and decided to throw him for a loop. He did not swing his wepon at the figure as it had expected and was indeed prepared for. Insted, he smashed into him with a hard tackle, and then lifting and forcing the foe onto its back with Cedro atop it. If this worked, Cedro would set about viciously turning its head into a pulp of pixels with many hits from his crude club.

If succesful he had a plan to avid taking further hits. He would take the then headless body and lift it as a buffer or shield from the wizzing bullets, in case the gunners recovered their attrocious aim. He hoped to get close enough to toss the body at one, bash the other across its head, and then move to take out the other... such was his plan... plan... planned... plans... idea... ideas... he had them, and would set them to motion.