The man turned to look at Taras as the bullets rattled from his pistol, but rather than them piercing his form and dropping him to the ground, another stand had gracefully moved in front of him. In synch with her stand, the dancer performed a perfect pirouette, the bullets having been caught up and spun around its form. Swirling her hands about, the stand, a beautiful thing of platinum and silvers, covered in necklaces that spun about with every turn and motion would swish its hands towards Taras, the bullets thrumming their way back towards him.

"Oh, my apologies! Were you hoping to kill my colleague with that gun of yours? Should have used the time to run!" The dancer gave a tinkling laugh, her stand shooting forward in a sliding motion.

Reaper recoiled as the flurry of blows came its way. Raising up its hands, only the first of the hits would slip through, and even then the force of it had been greatly reduced. The rest of the blows would find themselves directed away by the stand's forearms, and as they did, Chloe would feel the skin on her knuckles begin to split and peel, rivulets of blood spilling down. It's user though would stagger backwards, the punch having knocked his sunglasses clean off his face.

Beneath the aviators, his eyes, all of it, from his pupils to his scelra, were as black as the void.

"HOW BOLD OF YOU! TELL ME THEN, WHO WILL REMEMBER YOU AFTER YOU DIE?!" As the stand shouted out the last word it would release its own rush, fists flying back out in a flurry of blows... And what was most curious was that there was pain before the punches hit- as if clutched between its knuckles were invisible razors.

"DIE!DIE!DIE!DIE!DIE!DIE!DIE!DIE!" Every word would mark another fist flying towards Ritz's carefully constructed form, the stand clearly too incensed to let out anything else.

As the stand went wild, the user would swirl his heavy overcoat off his shoulders. Fluffing it out like a matador's cape, a faint, almost electrical glow would begin to emerge from the woolen material, the fighter's breathing taking on an unusual cadence.

Despite all of that though, there was still the squad of identical stands to contend with. One of them was caught in Miss Murder's Spray, spazaming slightly, extremeties beginning to petrify... But where one fell, two more marched foward, raising fists up together to lay the hurt down on Kiara.

One would turn towards Taras, scanning him for where his stand was, whilst the final one stomped mindlessly forward, attempting to grapple Ritz down and allow Reaper to land the killing blow.

Chloe's smile had turned into a nervous grimace- though to say it had ever been anything else would be an exaggeration if not a lie. Her strikes had been clumsy, and in terms of pure brute strength, it seemed like the Reaper outclassed her. Or, at the very least, he was just so fucking angry he wasn't holding anything back. At the moment, her adrenaline was pumping and her split knuckles hardly registered on the pain index. As Ritz, it's perfect porcelain teeth grit in concentration, deflected the enemy's rush, she felt a strange cutting pain in her shoulders and forearms. Her shoulders and forearms were beginning to split, and the rolled up sleeve of her leather jacket was getting cut into. Chloe hissed through her teeth as her fashion and toned arms were split into.

His cape, unveiled with dramatic flair, began to glow with some kind of menacing glow. The british woman was sweating and intimidated, worried that at moment's notice this thing was going to unveil some strange power and pop her head off. What could she do? What could he do?

The annoying ballerina woman and her annoying ballerina Stand danced around the room and was supporting the Reaper by absorbing projectile fire. They were surrounded and in a bad way. Fortunately, Lilliane had an idea, and that was to run away. At least put some distance between them and the ambush. The only problem was, that would essentially be throwing all the civilians in the pub to the wolves like lambs to a slaughter. Surely the Stand users were more of a target then these frenchies, right? Put these people were Nazi's- the lowest scum on Earth. They would massacre these people without a second thought. Probably just to teach everyone in the group a lesson. Her hazel eyes flicked quickly from one side of the room to the other, scanning the scenario for options, plans, anything.

One of Tinkerbells goons suddenly lunged at her, trying to wrap it's wooden limbs around Puttin' on the Ritz' much more refined and badass form. Ritz had retreated slightly from Reaper, pushed back by it's onslaught. No longer wild or random with her strikes, Ritz had adopted a kind of amateurish boxing stance, something a recruit would get taught in basic training. Certainly better then the nonsense she had tried to pull before, but it was obvious to anyone with melee knowledge that Ritz really didn't know what it was doing and was just going off what Chloe had learned in bootcamp.

"Augh, bugger me!" Chloe cried out as she put her half-assed plan into motion. With a few clunks and thunks, Ritz quickly moved her long limb behind her back and switched discs. Such a move may put her more at risk from a strike, so Chloe just had to hope that her Stand was durable enough to survive whatever cheap shot the Reaper could get in during the half-second of exposed torso she had granted it.

"Disc One, Side 'A'!" Ritz announced. A faint, crackly apparation of Ritz would appear, overlayed with the currently existing Stand. Like it had been recorded in color film, and was being projected onto thin air with 3d show. The recording's fists, however, were anything but weak, and threw out a barrage of boxer's blows, lows, highs, and straights. It kept it's arms in close and defended itself, but it wasn't actually reacting to anything the Reaper was doing. A pre-recorded message, deadly but unable to improvise.

However, Chloe hoped it would be enough to distract the Reaper so she could rocket Ritz' right leg into the wooden body of the doll attempting to grapple her.

If everything went well, Chloe would maneuver her and her Stand away from the exit Lilliane had created, positiong herself between the Reaper and the rest of the patrons. She was covering for the people to escape, and hopefully her allies would devise some kind of plan to come and save her once they were no longer being born down on by the enemy Stand Users.

"Eyes 'ere, y'fuckin' wankers." Chloe crudely grunted, standing behind Ritz and sticking up a two-fingered salute. Blood trickled down the back of her hand. Now Ritz was preparing to defend itself, all the while a simulated flurry of blows was being projected out from it's body to dissaude any careless advances.

Taras expected that「The Reaper」's user wouldn't go down so easily - because nothing came easy to their ragtag group of Allies, did it? From the very first meeting when they'd been forced to cram into a much too small plane, which was barely even two days ago, it'd just been trouble after trouble. So of course, Taras anticipated that taking out this enemy stand wouldn't be as simple as shooting it's user while Cakebread distracted the thing itself. What he didn't anticipate was his own bullets being redirected back at him. The Russian caught two rounds before he could get out of the projectiles' path, one grazing his broad shoulder and taking a chunk of flesh with it, the other ripping straight through his bicep.

"Bitch!" he snarled at the woman on stage. He had half a mind to raise his pistol and fire at her, but logic overcame his anger. If he did that, she'd just reflect the bullets again. Even more annoying, the sow was right: they should have focused on escape, especially now that Lilliane had blown a hole in the wall. As satisfying as taking out every stand user in the German force would be, in this situation they were outnumbered and surrounded. The best thing they could do was get out of the cafe and regroup - at least then they wouldn't have enemies on all sides of them. Taras swallowed a noise of frustration, turning his cold glare on the ugly Nazi puppets that were quickly advanced on them. Every stand had a poor excuse for a human being attached to it. Even though they were strange and identical, the wooden-like figures were still controlled by their users. Or...? an absurd thought flashed through Taras' mind, but he ignored it for now. Instead, he reloaded his weapon and without a word aimed it at the enemy closest to him, the one clearly looking for his own stand. Unfortunately for them,「Bad Case」wouldn't be making an appearance just yet. If they weren't going to make it easy for him, Taras certainly wasn't going to make it easy for them.

He fired, one shot to the soldier's heart and one to the head. Then he retreated back towards Lilliane and the hole in the wall as he continued firing at the identical legion of soldiers, intent on thinning them out through the most direct method. "Come, we should regroup," he called to the other agents, only then noticing that Yonaka and「Ritz」had moved even further away from them. Why? His brow furrowed. His eyes swept over the cafe. Ah, the patrons. Figures. These women were sentimental. Some might call Taras heartless, but frankly their team was much more important than the civilian diners... and wasn't it considered an honor to die for your country anyway? In Taras' humble opinion, they should let the patrons become martyrs while the rest of them escaped. I very much doubt the ladies would agree to that plan, he thought to himself. So, plan B.

"Agent, how difficult was making that hole in the wall?" Taras didn't look at Lilliane even as he questioned her, keeping his gaze firmly locked on the enemies in the cafe. When any had any wise ideas about moving towards them, he shot, even as blood splashed from his own wounds. "That is, could you do it again?"

"Effortlessly," came the instant reply from Lilliane. "Anything that's not alive or a single part, I can dismantle. If you want me to collapse a building... It can be arranged."

Really, what she wanted to do was steal the closest vehicle and get the hell out. That was almost always the best coarse of action. Minimized loss, took the least amount of time. Nobody could outrun four tires. Though, these were stand users they were talking about. The possibility of a chase was always possible. If they had a tracker with them or a an ability to outrun a car, that could prove to be an issue. Well, if Taras had an idea of a plan, she'd at least hear him out. She'd prefer a plan that didn't put herself in harms way, but the current circumstances demanded a less cautious approach.

"What do you have in mind?"

Okay, Kiara, think. Take stock of the situation, form a plan. There’s the Reaper, currently occupied by Ritz. The user, clearly something up with him and his damn coat. The woman and her stand, deflecting projectiles. The soldiers, practically a fucking hydra, and as much as she’d like to mow them down until there’s no one left to replace them, it’s not exactly an efficient plan. Finally, the hole in the wall, a convenient escape route, but she isn’t one to just cut and run, not before inflicting enough pain to satisfy her.

Miss Murder shoots at the soldiers coming for her, aiming for their torsos. She keeps an eye out for the woman, ready to attempt to trip her up if the opportunity arises.

Damn, the odds really aren’t stacked in their favor, are they? As much as she doesn’t like it, she’s going to have to retreat. She backs up towards the hole in response to Tupolev’s call, but she notices that Yonaka is staying behind, apparently to protect the civilians. That wouldn’t exactly be Kiara’s first priority, but someone should have her back if that’s what she’s set on.

“Give us a second, alright?”

As powerful and independent as Reaper was, it definitely.. Lacked... When it came to tactical thinking and strategising. A relentless barrage of blows continued to rain onto Ritz even as she deftly avoided the grapple of the manequin-like stand, the skeletal figure snarling as he witnessed the soldier's faliure. When Disc One, Side A was played and the blows started to fall, Reaper's gaze would turn and fall onto his own ally. "You'll do," the stand snarled, a hand shooting out and catching the soldier's stand by the collar... Before unceremoniously throwing it towards the fake!Ritz. As the prerecorded blows slammed into his ally, taking another soldier out of the fight, Reaper would press foward, fist shattering the musically summoned stand with another cry of DIE!

With the recording dismissed, Chloe's taunt would be heard by stand and user. Reaper stalked forwards, chest heaving as if it was exhausted whilst in stark comparison the black-eyed user would stalk foward, raptor-like in his focus. As Reaper lunged towards Ritz, he would arc his jacket through the air, sending one of the crackling arms whirling directly towards Chloe's face.

With two soldiers already lost, it took the timly intervention of the dancer to prevent another from falling. "Haha!" Cried the ballerina, "foolish malcontents! You're nothing before the precise glory that is「THROUGH THE BARRICADE」! She is precise! She is beautiful! And most of all, she is INVINCIBLE!"

As invincible as she was though, Miss Murder's volley would find its mark, another soldier freezing up into stone. The numbers were being whittled down, but in terms of objectives, the Axis still seemed to be firmly on top. There was no inkling of retreat or surrender in the blank gazes of the stand-using soldiers, whilst Through The Barricade seemed to have only just warmed up... And Reaper didn't really seem to understand the meaning of the word 'retreat,' which ruled that right out.

After a quick detailing of his plan to get Chloe out, Lilliane couldn't help but take issue with it. Based entirely on the fact that Chloe seemed to unwilling to leave the civilians, making a hole for her to escape would most likely be ignored until the civilians were safe. That meant, for better or worse, she was staying and fighting that thing. At the very least, she'd give her some assistance. Buy some more time. She took one last glance at the inside of the cafe, committing it to memory. This was what she had to work with.

"Tell her to her back against the wall when she looks ready to leave," she told Kiara and Taras. She wasn't exactly in the business of shouting out her plans to her enemies, after all. Information was power.

With a quick dash to the building's behind, her mind began to calculate that snapshot. At the angle where she was at, her distance to the left and right... Adjusting for the thickness of the walls and height of the stage... It should have been there. With a fierce punch from her stand, its fist met brick as the two stopped in a brief deadlock. Still, the stand pushed on, more and more force building from within the single brick.

Then it fired at the back of dancer's head.

Probably.

Really, Lilliane had no real way of seeing through walls. It was a highly educated guess based on an eidetic memory. However, the dancer could have moved or swayed her head in the mean time. It might have completely missed. It also wasn't like she could look through the new hole she made, either. Not unless she had a stool, or something.

The Soviet couldn't keep the sour expression from his face. These ladies were exhausting. Their progress was slow, and the woman on the stage kept talking, her voice was grating. Lilliane slipped outside and Taras moved away from the opening. She'd said to tell Yonaka to move back when she looked ready, but the woman and Ritz were in the middle of a close quarters battle - she was probably ready for it to be over at any time. They needed another opening to at least get those damned civilians out of the way.

"Yonaka, move back!" Taras was not about to find is way over there and whisper it to her, and his words took the shape of an order rather than a suggestion despite the fact that the four of them were from different countries, with different hierarchies and he was in no way their superior despite how often he felt he was. The woman was close to the other wall already. If she did as he said and moved back, Lilliane would hear her.

Next was Oscuro. The small agent was doing a fine job of fending off the identical stands and the soldiers they were attached too. Between them and the despicable duo on stage, it was clear who was the larger threat, but there were still many of the foot soldiers. Taras summoned his stand.

It was the same tiny, metal thing as always. It was fast - and in the chaos Taras thought it might go unnoticed. He let「Bad Case」scuttled down his legs and speed towards the group of soldiers while Taras himself moved closer to the stage. He held his pistol up and despite the dancer's reflective ability, he shot again at the man with the black eyes. Surely that shiny stand would move to defend him, and give Oscuro and his own stand the opportunity to wipe out the battalion. 「Bad Case」slipped between the soldiers' legs, far from where「Miss Murder」was spraying her bullets above. It stabbed at their heels, severing the tendons there from the inside, only a dot of blood left behind with the needle wound. It would slow them down, make them easier targets for petrification. Without the squad bearing down on them, the stand users on stage would be much easier to deal with.

Chloe swallowed dryly as she maneuvered Ritz to avoid the strikes. Every near miss of glancing blow could be felt on her own body, and The Reaper's advance was unstoppable. Ritz's record scratched to a stop as the recording was crushed to pieces by the encroaching Nazi and his evil Stand. Ritz would have to take out the record and put it back in again to start it up after it had been broken. Such a movement would only take a second or two, but every moment counted in this fight.

Sweat dripped down her brow and loose strands of black hair not tied into the rest of her ponytail hung down and clung to her face. Her wide eyes and gritted, bared teeth gave an accurate impression of a woman literally staring the grim reaper in the face. The civilians and their safety was still in the back of her mind but there was only so many things Yonaka could remember or focus on a time, and right now it was whatever Reaper was about to do next. Even Through the Barricade was at the edges of her periphery. Her offensive gestures had turned into nervously clenched fists.

The crackling coat came through the air towards Ritz and Chloe, and it gave off incredibly bad vibes. The british woman doubted very much this was some kind of ploy or trick. That arm was bad news. She flinched, reacting mostly on instinct. She and her Stand both ducked underneath the swing, though Chloe ended up stumbling backwards a few steps and fell into a sitting position, eyes wide. She barked out a fearful laugh.

Ritz however stood up for Chloe's composure by ducking under the coat. Puttin' on the Ritz put her hands on the ground and span around with her duck, sending a sweeping leg towards the Reaper. "Tshah!" The Stand exclaimed wordlessly. Disengaging she rose to her feet, keeping her hands up in a boxing position and walking backwards as Chloe scooted away from the Reaper.

Taras shouted an order to move back, and she obeyed, beginning to move against the wall. An authoritative voice was exactly what a soldier needed in the midsts of a hectic battle. Though Chloe was amongst the people she was trying to protect, she was keeping her Stand infront as to maintain it's priority target status for the Reaper.

Chloe used a nearby table to pull herself to her feet. The anxious smile had returned- or perhaps never left- and the young woman picked up bottle and chucked it at the Reaper's user. "Shithead!"

Yonaka, with her crude demeanor, crop top, and torn leather jacket and jeans contrasted greatly with the refinement of Ritz. Meanwhile, the finely dressed pianist was a debonaire opposite of his savage, furious Reaper. It almost looked like they should switch places. Sometimes Chloe wondered why Ritz looked the way that she did...but she would rather have it look like a porcelain doll then some sort of horrific monster. What did it say about a person when their Stand looked so hideous and evil? Does that Nazi sometimes think his personality doesn't match his Stand, just as Chloe did? With a blink, Chloe wiped her mouth with her forearm and focused back on the matters at hand.

Chloe was closer to the wall now as instructed, keeping her Stand infront of her ready to counter and fight the Reaper or any more of those dolls Through the Barricade was controlling. (Maybe? Chloe wasn't exactly sure what was going on with that pompous ballerina bitch onstage. Again, too focused on the murder monster.)

Had Oscuro not frozen, had Miss Murder capitalised on the sudden crippling of the solidiers that advanced on them, perhaps the flow of the fight would have entirely reversed in that brief moment... But as it was, the strikeback was disjointed and fragmented. Although the dancer was caught off guard- Through The Barriacde rushing first to defend Reaper's stand user from Taras' bullets, and then swirling backwards in a flurry of fabric to try and defend her, it was a fraction of a second too slow, The splinters of brick slashing her face superficially, but painfully. Growling, a single droplet of blood staining her previously pristine dress, she would roar her displeasure... And an order.

"ENOUGH MESSSING AROUND TILL. BUTCHER THEM."

"YOU'LL HAVE TO SETTLE FOR ME." Reaper's response was gutteral and barely understandable- its frothing rage having clearly reached its peak. As Chloe stumbled backwards and onto her rear, the stand would slam both of its arms downwards like an ape, those same 'precuts' marking the passing of his fists. When Ritz' legs slammed into Reaper's legs they would find themselves slamming into a brick wall, the only responde to be a slight buckling from the emaciated figure's knees. Ducking to one side, it would avoid the thrown bottle, merely letting out an incoherent scream in response to her insult.

As it contiued its stalk foward, one of Reapers's arms would lance out; grabbing a glass from the table and hurling it and its contents at the nervous-faced dancer. Any of the stray droplets that made contact with the woman or her stand would rip their way through her flesh, as lethal as any knife, parting skin and cloth as the rivulets ran down.

Meanwhile, Oscuro now found Miss Murder pressed upon by two seperate, albeit slowed, German stands. Their wooden arms swung towards her, slow, but it didn't take a genius to realise that those chunky fists would leave a terrible impact on her stand if they landed. Taras, meanwhile, found himself bearing the attention of the dancer, who would load her luger and return fire on him, her stand running forward, backflipping over a table as it did so.

Chloe cried out in pain and surprise as the drink of a nearby glass cut into Ritz, tearing into her leather jacket and chest, the cuts travelling to just below her ribs. The blood ran down from under her clothes and down her bare white belly, absorbing into the waistband of her jeans. Grimacing, Chloe grunted as she took another step back. Breathing heavy, the british woman tried to steel herself. Taras seemed to have a plan in mind. If he could somehow get this wall open, that would be great. The civvies and Yonaka both needed an escape, fast. Fortunately, the pain from the cuts into her skin quickly faded as her adrenaline rushed. Clenching her fists, she planted her boots into the ground and willed her and her Stand to take a defiant step forward. Puttin on the Ritz' finely polished wood was cut into in some places, and her porcelain midriff was sliced into with crimson, paint-like blood streaking down in perfect lines.

"CODADADA!" Ritz shouted not ready to buckle under the Reaper's tireless assault. Raising it's arms into a defensive position, it fired off a flurry of blows to try and batter the Reaper away.

Reaper's chest heaved. The frothing, boiling rage of the skeletal figure had crescendoed, and it was not about to go on the offensive now. As a string of spit dripped down onto the floor, it would watch, the edges of its lips curling in sadistic glee at the blood dripping down Chloe's body. Then, as Ritz's arms began to fly, and the blows began to come in thick and fast, it would do something highly unexpected.

It would strike back.

Rattling its arms foward, its knuckles would slam into the scratched varnish of Ritz's hands, the sound of the collission rattling like a gunshot, even among the actual gunshots going on all around them. Every blow of Ritz's hands was countered by another of his, and as if to drown out her shouts, it would let fly the same cry it had been saying before, screamed now at a throat-tearingly loud volume. DIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEIDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIEDIE! DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Chloe rolled her head and her eyes as the thing continued to shout. The Reaper was rage incarnate, Chloe was incredulous, annoyed, and scared. As it smiled, so did she, but nervously instead of sadistically. Creepy bastard. At this point, several points of her torso hurt, a stinging pain that was dulled by adrenaline. This thing was a bloody monster! It returned the favor, this 'Till's' Stand shrieking incoherently about how much it really wanted Chloe to die.

Ritz grunted out her sharp hiss as she deflected a blow and met another fist with her own, Chloe flexing as her knuckles throbbed from the impact. This thing was wild, but it was predictably wild. Chloe it seemed was a step ahead, in that she had adapted her fighting style while the Reaper continued it's rampage. Ducking under a particularly wayward blow, Puttin' on the Ritz rocketed back up into a standing position and slammed it's shiny heel into the Reaper's chest, hoping to knock it and it's user backwards. "Tshah!"

As the Reaper stumbled backwards, Ritz rolled her smooth, armored shoulders and cracked her neck from side to side, sneering derisively at the german soldier.

A boot to the chest. Till and Reaper both stumbled backwards, the latter letting out a cough and losing the grip he had on his coat, his turn to fall on his ass. As its user rose to its feet, Reaper slammed a fist into an open palm, every joint in its finger cracking simultaneously as it did so. Swaying back and forth a little, the smile never having left its face, Reaper's fist came flying foward again, a careening rocket with the force of a panzer behind it.

Chloe grinned once again in that humorless way she did when things were dire like this. Though the Stand stood tall, the woman's shoulders were hunched, and she had one hand on her bleeding midriff, the other curled up into an idle fighting position. Fortunately though, she had made the right call. Her heart skipped a beat as she realised she had an opportunity to take the advantage.

Ritz saw the cannon-fire punch coming. Reaper's lunge came from a vast distance away in terms of a fist fight. It didn't get much more predictable then that. No matter how powerful a punch is, it's force can potentially be re-directed. Ritz took a step forward with it's front leg. Her front forearm rose, and the oncoming fist of the Reaper glided off it's polished brace. Her opposite fist came silently, quickly forward. Ritz entire body weight as behind this punch as her hips leaned into the swing and her perfect white teeth gleamed from inbetween her curled lips. The punch seemed to streak forward in slow motion. It was on a collision course with the Reaper's unprotected face, her middle and ring finger prepared to cave in it's skull-like nostrils. "CODA!" Ritz shouted, aiming to shut the damn thing up, if only for a moment.

The problem with a fighting style such as Reaper's was that it was all attack, no defence. And whilst the former might be the best form of the latter, against a sufficiently skilled opponent, it did have its weakness, and that weakness had just been exploited. One fist would skim off from its target, the other would strike true- knuckles slamming into whatever counted for Reaper's nose. As it did so, Reaper would stagger backwards, letting a scream of dissapointment out at the same time.

The reason why was clear. From behind its form, Till's eyes rolled back into his head, the knock-on damage causing him to collapse onto the floor. His eyes would swirl about, the blackness clearing into a far more wholesome white, and then he would slowly blink and look up, unphased by the gunshots and violence all around him. His eyes would settle on the first person he saw- the bleeding and bare-midriffed Yonaka, and in a far too cordial tone for the surroundings, would ask in German "Entschuldigung frauline, wo bin ich?"

Chloe grimaced as she felt the fist connect. That couldn't feel good. It was a rush of victory, though Chloe didn't relish in the suffering of others like the Reaper seemed too. Ritz slowly retracted it's fist from the Reaper's shattered face, as if it weight a hundred kilos, and tossed another punch at the Stand a moment after it vanished into thin air. Chloe's eyes widened and she barked out a laughter. Did she win!?

The man fell over unconscious, but he quickly woke up. Ritz retracted it's fist into a defensive position and Chloe gritted her teeth, preparing to finish the job, when...he did whatever it was he just did.

Ritz and Chloe both uncomfortably retracted backwards at the man's now innocent posture and demeanor, this sudden change of personality slightly less frightening and certainly more confusing than the monster he had just been. Her instinctive aversion to punching nice looking people in the face caused the bloodied and battle-ready Yonaka to falter. Breathing heavily, her red hand fell away from her belly and Ritz' fists lowered slightly, unclenching.

"...Wot?" She asked simply, confused.

"Tu ne parlez pas l'Allemand? Pardonnez moi. Où suis-je madamoiselle?"

Chloe quirked her head to the side, ponytail drifting down towards the ground. Now he was speaking French. The young woman was utterly baffled and her guard lowered even further. Regardless of the literal firefight that was going on around her. Chloe ducked down slightly and walked closer to her Stand to protect herself from stray bullets.

"I punch the Nazi outta you or somethin', mate?" She asked with an incredulous chuckle, gesturing at him. Chloe glanced over her shoulder at the nearby people to make sure they stayed back, and she was still very wary of this Nazi. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind that this was some kind of trick, though, it was just too strange. She wanted to find out more.

Irritated, the man would reach for his shirt sleeve and tug it back, scratching at his wrist. When he shook his sleeve out, for the briefest moment a tattoo could be seen; letters and numbers rapidly covered up. "English! You speak English. As I was trying to say madam, would you happen to know where I am and why there's a gunfight going on?"

Chloe laughed full on at this point. This man had the gall to act mildly irritated at her? As if he wasn't trying to tear her limb from limb just seconds ago.

"Well, there's a bloody war on, isn't there!?" She shouted, eyes wide, her disbelief turning into annoyance. This situation had taken a turn she never could have predicted and she wasn't sure what to do. She gestured wildly at the room around her.

"Now are you gonna fight me or what!?" She asked, taking a step back and shaking the blood off of her hand. Chloe was, to say the least, a little fucked up, with blood and torn leather jacket and crop top signifying her rough state.

"I bloody well know there's a war on, but I'm wondering when you lot arrived in France." The man would look away thoughtfully for a moment. "I was on a train to a work camp... It must have been May? As far as I was aware, and it wasn't as if I was getting regular newspapers mind you, but England had just gone back over the Channel."

Chloe blinked, scoffed, and Ritz lumbered forward. It picked him up by the collar of his shirt and lifted him into the air. At this point his lack of sense-making was starting to piss her off. She let Ritz do the talking now. Peering at his lifted state through it's sallet-like helmet, the Stand shook him and spoke.

"What the fuck is your problem? Are you trying to kill me or not?" Ritz asked, it's angry, conflicted voice crackling, it's cool breathe smelling of vinyl and wood shavings. The young woman stood back and stared up at the man, keeping an eye on the situation behind her. She would rather he get hit by any stray bullets than any of the people behind her.

"You're a stand user?" The German would say, suddenly seeming to realise Ritz' presence. As he was hauled up and shaken, he would bark out some surely expected words; "Don't Fear the Reaper! Time to play!"
There was a moment, and then Reaper's form would materialise, staring down Ritz and Chloe.
"Hello again," It would snarl, lips still twisted into a smile.
"Again? You've met this woman before? That explains why she thinks I'm trying to kill her."

Chloe startled at the sight of the Reaper, only for it to give her a greeting, and not immediately start attacking. Instead, he and the user started having some kind of back-and-forth. Ritz grimaced and moved one hand from around his collar to around the man's neck, squeezing it lightly.

Now it was Chloe's time to speak. Dissimilar this unlikely duo, Ritz and Chloe seemed to be totally in sync with each other.

"I don't think you were trying to kill me, you used your cutty bullshit to ruin my jacket and fuck me up! Gimme a good reason why I shouldn't snap your fuckin' neck before skullface over there can do a thing about it!" Chloe threatened taking a wary step away from the situation while Ritz prepared to snap the squishy human's neck like a twig. If he really was a Stand User, he would know that having a strong Stand's hand around your actual human neck was a pretty hard to come back from situation. At the same time, after this sudden turn of events, Chloe would have felt evil just smashing the cordial man's face in after he asked her where he was. Now the british woman glanced back and forth quickly from the user and Stand, literally having no idea what to expect next.

Reaper's hands would stalk foward and wrap themselves around Ritz's wrists. "Be grateful you knocked his sense back into him, or I would be snapping your wrists right now."

"My name is Till Lindemann I don't remember anything about slicing you with my jacket, although it does sound plausible since Reaper has met you and reason why you shouldn't snap my neck is because you won't be able to with Reaper here."

Chloe felt pressure increase around her body's wrists, and Ritz looked back and forth between the two faces and apparently personalities of the person she was talking too.

"Y-yeah I could. I could pop your head off like a bloody cork." Chloe countered, though it was clear her heart wasn't in it. Reaper wasn't even attacking her any more and she didn't know what to do. Things were tense, and both she and Ritz had her eyes on Reaper's hands. Till could tell that if he made the wrong move, their Stands might just tear each other apart. Right now, though, Chloe wasn't going for the kill.

"Let go of me, explain to me when and where I am, explain to me why Reaper tried killing you and why there are bullets flying everywhere and how you, a..." he would pause, clearly finding the next words slightly incredulous even as he said them "fine young lady such as yourself is caught up in all this unpleasantness, and perhaps we can retry this, yes?"

Chloe laughed again at the man's overwhelming strangeness. She pointed accusingly at him with an actual smile on her face now, because this was utterly absurd.

"No, I won't let go! Because you're a nazi! You're here to kill me and everyone in here 'cause you're a bloody nazi mate! Heilin' Hitler with the best of 'em!" She gestured wildly. She chose to glaze over whatever social pretentiousness he seemed to have because there were much bigger worries on her plate at the moment.

"THE FUCKING NAZIS PUT ME IN A GHETTO!"
"DID YOU NOT HEAR ME? THEY TOOK ME TO A WORK CAMP YOU CRAZY... I dislike swearing at ladies immensely, but you are extremley trying."

Chloe raised her voice in return, sputtering. "Wh- tsha- gu- me!? I'm trying, am I!? You're crazy, mate! You're the crazy one! You're not listening to me! You're working with the nazis! So don't come at me acting like I'm not makin any sense when I'm about to fuckin' bleed out over here cause of you! You're gonna tell me Misses Master Race on the stage isn't a nazi, either!?" She used whatever little leverage Ritz had to lean Till slightly to the side so he could see the mad ballerina on stage.

Having dealt with the dancer's redirection once already, Taras was prepared for it. As soon as he saw her glittering stand move back towards its' user, he took cover behind another toppled table. Shots tore through the wood easily, some grazing his body and drawing blood, but at the moment that was the least of his worries. The ladies, Lilliane aside, were pinned down. Hell, he was about to be pinned down - but a plan was already forming in his brain to get himself out of trouble. The timing would be crucial, but it was either escape from the cafe and follow after their master spy, or take a risk.

He rolled out from behind his chosen debris on the opposite side, his firearm raised and already pointed uselessly at「Through the Barricade」- and in his peripheral vision he gauged the status of the other agents. Lilliane was still outside, that was good, she could lend support while keeping safe. Oscuro was besieged by the doll-like soldiers, and 「Bad Case」was still nearby, but moving. Yonaka was...

It seemed like he had the skeletal stand beat, it's user yelling - or pleading? - something. That was very good news, but instead of finishing him off the Brit was arguing back. Taras had seen a lot poor habits from people during his service, but reasoning with the enemy was most annoying.

"What are you doing!" he spat out, his accent heavy. He wasn't privy to the revelation across the room, and before long「Through the Barricade」was upon him. It was his best judgement that the dancer's stand wasn't a power-type, and though Taras was not one to leave things up to chance, he gambled on this judgement and was prepared to take a blow so long as her stand was preoccupied with him, leaving the woman open.

From the ground, unnoticed until now, Taras' own stand sprung. The metallic mosquito sailed a short distance through the air, aimed right at the enemy woman's neck and shoulder. It's proboscis was extended, but it was merely a threat - there was no way it would be fast enough to take her down before she could retaliate... but she couldn't know that. A check.

Originally, Lilliane was going to attempt to partially break through the wall using「Future History」and extract Chloe that way. Plans, however, change. By the time that she dashed around the corner to the wall Chloe had been near, the majority of their fight had passed. Unseen to those inside, the spy's stand placed itself against the wall. With another unnatural, jittering motion, its claws slowly dragged along the bricks, leaving no mark behind. Like before, the bricks began to vibrate. Then they launched in the same way as before, creating another hole in the wall.

The blast created was intentionally aimed away from Chloe and the Reaper's fight. While a blast of bricks was often a great tool to stop people in their tracks, hitting Chloe was the one thing she didn't want to happen. This time, however, was different. Emerging from the dust and entering with the bricks was the spy with her hand in jacket pocket. As she became visible through the dust, she had already drawn a bizarre needle. More icepick than sewing implement, she had pointed it at Till.「Future History」came along, its hand grasping Lilliane's.

A brief pause ensued. Rather than fight, the two were having... an argument? The man seemed more confused if anything. Chloe also seemed angry and confused.

Really, what was going on here?

The needle shook in Lillian's hand. Right. She did that as soon as she entered. This is why she never liked fighting. She quickly looked around the room, trying to gauge the situation. If the man with the reaper wasn't trying to actively kill Chloe, that meant that the best target would be the ballerina. She quickly pointed the needle at the ballerina and grasped it with both hands. Not a moment later, the components of the needle violently came apart. The handle was left with Lilliane, the recoil of it knocking her onto the ground. The needle, likewise, launched itself at the ballerina. Not very well aimed, though.

Fuck! She was distracted and missed an opportunity to get ahead. Now she had two stands aiming blows at her, slow but with plenty of power behind them. While Kiara cursed under her breath, Miss Murder drew her arms back into her shadowy cloak-like mass and leapt backwards, producing two pistols and firing off a few shots at each of them.

Kiara’s attention was caught by what seemed to be some kind of argument between Chloe and The Reaper’s user. They didn’t seem to be fighting anymore. That confused her, so she called over to them while keeping an eye out for the soldiers and the ballerina.

“What the fuck is going on over there?”

Miss Murder continues shooting at the soldiers to keep them from interfering with whatever Taras and Liliane had planned to deal with the woman.

"Oh no, she..." The man would turn around and look at the figure on stage, who was, in turn, staring at him, her eyes wide.

"Scheiße. I knew you were a liability." Turning to look at the last two of the soldier's stands being surpressed by Miss Murder's revolvers, then at the rapidly-increasing number of people gunning for her, her stand only barely deflecting the latest round of projectiles. The woman would feel the sting of something jabbing into her, her stand rushing towards her body in defence, and as Tarras' stand began its lethal work, Through The Barricade would yank it out and hurl it across the room, just as the user desperately scrambled for the piano. Reaching in side, she tugged at something, hard, and then hurled a stickgrenade at the resistance fighters as hard as she could, turning and sprinting out of a rear door in the same moment.

"She is definitely a Nazi." Till would nod to himself, and as the grenade landed at his feet, reaper would turn and yell out its stand cry one last time. DIE! Its fist would come down onto the grenade at its users feet shattering the fragile metal casing and 'defusing' the device (as much as it could be defused when you were simply punching it very hard.)

Chloe looked, bewildered, between the Reaper's user and the woman on stage. They seemed to be having some kind of meaningful eye contact, when the Nazi on stage came to a conclusion. With that, she promptly threw a grenade at the two of them, leaving the Reaper to destroy the grenade before it could activate.

How was she going to aptly explain these new developments to her allies? The situation had changed. The good news is, the battle was essentially won. The bad Nazi was on the run.

"Okay, well, anyone the Nazi's throws grenades at is a friend of mine." Chloe remarked with a bemused chuckle. Though she visibly flinched at the Reaper's ominous Stand cry that she had associated bad memories with.

"Uh, this bloke here is good now!" Chloe shouted aloud, pointing at the Reaper and his user. "I think." She added, rubbing her chin while Ritz shrugged uncertainly. She saw Through the Barricade toss Bad Case away but she wasn't sure if she wanted to pursue or not. Would it be best for her to remain and keep an eye on their new 'ally'? Surely Through the Barricade was toast now that the Reaper was on their team. Chloe wasn't even sure if it was in their best interest to pursue Through the Barricade's User, or just to bugger off. Strategy was not exactly her strong suit.

"You're not gonna go all...evil on us again, are you?" Chloe asked the Stand User.

「Bad Case」sailed the short distance across the room with it's legs jerking and clicking uncomfortably in the air. With a sudden movement it swung itself around and landed on the brick wall opposite from where it was thrown. Without hesitation it scuttled along the wall until it reached the brick displaced by their lone agent on the outside of the cafe. Taras' voice came out through the little stand and was pushed out through that hole: "Agent, the sparkling bitch is escaping through the back. Catch her."

Taras himself sneered after the dancer's retreating form, but instead of chase after her he strode over to Yonaka and "the good bloke" - whom he leveled his gun at. Tall and thick, with with a grim expression and a loaded pistol, Taras cut an intimidating figure.

"Explain yourself plainly. Now." It seemed Taras wasn't so easy to win over. Still it was a good sign when he didn't shoot the other man right then and there. The situation did read like the woman trying to be rid of the evidence of a plan gone wrong... but Taras hadn't survived this long taking things at face value. Even if the now less-than-dark eyed man wasn't on the Nazi's side, they had to be sure. They also needed to be sure he wasn't some sleeper agent that could be "activated" again at any time. The fact was that the Russian agent didn't have all the facts, but he wanted them as soon as possible.

With the nazi on the run, Lilliane had a moment to collect herself and survey the damages to the cafe. It wasn't pretty. Gunfire everywhere, holes in walls, and the destruction of enough property to bankrupt the owners. The place wouldn't open for a long time, that was certain. The rest of the group had decided to stay around and question the man. He wasn't to be trusted, of course. He worked with the Nazis and who was to say that this wasn't some kind of elaborate ruse.

Lilliane, however, was the one that had to think about and deal with the outcome of this. Numerous cusses came out of her mouth as she paced back outside, lightly kicking. Some in French, some in English, and even one in Spanish. Just thinking about how she had to fix all of this gave her a headache. Sabotage was easy to cover for. Someone's ineptitude, a plain accident, things along those lines. A full on gunfight resulting in an injured Nazi asset? It was a pain.

"In for a penny..."

She ran out. Well, if that asset disappeared, the Nazis wouldn't exactly have a full picture on what happened, would they? She ran after the woman. When she reached the hole at the back of the building, Taras' yelled at her through his stand. Damn, she knew already. All she had to do was... incapacitate her. She was injured, how hard could it be.

Fucking hell, looks like the ballerina’s smarter than she is courageous. Once the grenade is disabled, Kiara attempts to give chase, but quickly decides against it. Really, what can her stand do to someone who can deflect her bullets? Seeing as all the soldiers are taken care of, she approaches Chloe and the apparently-now-friendly man, eyeing him suspiciously.

“If he does try anything, he’ll be decorating my apartment before he can say ‘Heil.’” To emphasize her point, Miss Murder produces a pistol and aims it at his forehead. Meanwhile, Kiara smooths out her hair, putting it back into place after the skirmish messed it up.

This is an interesting situation, isn’t it? Of course, it’s not the first time she’s seen someone claim to have switched allegiances when things get hairy, but this situation seems a bit different. She’s gotten pretty good at determining whether someone’s trying to get one over on her, but she’s having a hard time figuring this one out.

"It doesn't matter if she gets away or not." Reaper would chuckle darkly. "Stand Command will hear of an entire squad of their goons gunned down in a cafe." The stand turned to where the ballerina had fled to, chest still heaving with exertion. "What was it you were talking about back then? With the pompus cienias dupek and his orders? Bludhund Protocol? I think this stunt has just gotten you a little more than just that."

"You remember what I was doing? Even when you weren't summoned?" Till looked at his stand warily, although one eye was still on the multiple people holding guns out at him.

"Let's be honest. You were my suka whilst they had your mind fucked. Not the other way around." He would grin wickedly and lean back, hovering slightly in the air.

"... As much as a psychopath as Reaper is, he doesn't lie to me. You can shoot me later, but for now I think you might want to listen to what he has to tell us about what's coming." Till would unsummon his stand at last, holding his hands out towards the rest of his once-attackers. "My name is Till Lindemann. I'm a German-Pole, I was the son of a butcher but I was a student of history at Jagiellonian University until the war broke out. After the Germans invaded I was put in a ghetto and then taken to a work camp. I don't remember how I got here, why I'm fighting you or what Reaper is talking about but I trust my own stand, and you can see him so you're the best shot I have at getting answers as well."