[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240828/688ac5d3d40c75e034e218d1778edf8d.png[/img][/center]
[center]LOC: Mafia Town, 17:59 hrs [/center]
[center]LVL: 1 [/center]
[center]WC: 1,245 [/center]
[center]EXP: 3/10 [/center]
[center]Interactions: OPEN [/center]
[center] Mentions: N/A [/center]


	Within seemingly a blink, a stretched shadow had eclipsed much of the coastline of the port; blotting out the moonlight and amplifying the bright halos of the sunset-tinted streetlights. He had known [i]something[/i] had materialized behind him in such a short amount of time, and as he moved to peer around the lip of the container once more, his vision flicked immediately away from the position of the white-suited man as he trailed over the hulking visage of a massive cargo ship- was that a cannon? The PA screeched to life seconds later; causing the man to grit his teeth in pain as he could only now stand and observe the massive ship from his position. No lookouts, no ladders or deployed anchors.. The ship seemed unmanned, save for the thunderous voice of an announcer at the helm. Looking down and patting his waist, he felt the two extra magazines for his .45, plus the heft of the fresh one loaded and chambered into the weapon in his hands. He'd have to get aboard the ship, take out the crew or Marines that must be inside the ship waiting to-

[b]KUH-BRROAAAAAM![/b]

A brilliant starburst erupted from the oversized barrel of the cannon; the cacophonous thundercrack sending a shockwave through the docks- foaming the seawater and pulverizing the wooden boards of the platform as hundreds of orange streaks cascaded against the onyx sky like falling stars. The ship had launched its flak payload in an arced trajectory toward the shorefront shops, and he had calculated that it was an estimated ten seconds before the flak devastated the town. Deafened and hurried by the sounds of his own breathing, the man holstered his handgun as he turned and ran into a dead sprint toward the coastal townside in a scramble to protect the townsfolk from the incoming destruction. It was only at a hundred meters left that he had realized the 'flak' was falling slower than what he'd expected. The projectiles had varying deviancies of speed and distance, and when they smashed into windows, billboards, streetlights... they didn't explode. They got up from what would be a fatal fall, and immediately poised themselves to begin their attack.  

A young man twenty years his senior had landed in front of him; executing a perfect tuck-and-roll as he leapt to his feet to turn and face the horned mercenary. The younger chisel-chinned and hair-swept man in question was dressed in a pair of swimtrunks and polarized surfer shades; boasting a disproportionately built torso and arms against a lanky set of legs. The mercenary dropped into a ready stance; teeth grit into a snarl as he felt the familiar urge to fight take hold of his being. [i]He relished it.[/i]

"Sup gramps, you ready to make some waves?" The younger man asked. The surfer-dude had chosen the moment to laugh gaudily- and found the open-palm strike of the older man's red bionic hand to contact his nose- sending him flying backward as he landed back-first and skidded against the pavement before leaping to his feet. "Aight, RADICAL IT IS BRAH!" The Dude roared back, now sporting a cartoonish bandage across his nose. The Mercenary didn't respond; face etched into a concentrated scowl as he held his ground and waited for his opponent to come to him. The Dude dropped into a starter-stance, and took big, bounding strides toward the Mercenary as he reared his right hand back to launch a devastating forward punch; only to see in a split second that the horned Mercenary had dropped down two inches, pivoted his body slightly to the left, and launched an uppercut directly into the man's jaw with his right hand; before performing another palm-strike on the man's throat with his left. The two-hit combination had simultaneously propelled The Dude slightly into the air before launching him backward again. The Mercenary was damned if he let that tank of a man get a hit off on him. He was quicker in comparison to the Dude's heavier, slower movements- that was an advatage.

"BUH-GAAAHHHWWWK!" A sonorous warcry bellowed from behind the Mercenary as a full-fledged humanoid chicken had leapt onto him in a back grapple; causing the man to stagger forward and reflexively reach up to seek leverage on the casually-dressed poultry as he found only the ends of the business suit. With one hand on the thing's waist and another at his side, the Mercenary bucked forward and attempted to throw the grappler off- which only made him stumble and fall onto the ground instead. Face-down, the Mercenary felt the behemoth readjust his stance to move off of him as he felt his legs behind picked up. Kicking and attempting to twist himself over to unholster his pistol, the Mercenary was unable to do so as, within a whip of motion, the world began to spin into a miasma of colors as wind muted his hearing. From his benchmark of seeing the surfer slowly rise to his feet, he only counted two rotations in his heightened state before suddenly being let go and thrown into his previous target- the both of them now hurdling into the window of a port office building. The Mercenary, fortunately for him, had his former target soften his blow as a body cushion; finally slamming up against the wall and tumbling off onto the hardwood floor. The impact may have been blunted, but pain screamed in his muscles and joints as he fought the disorientation from being swung by his legs. 

Stumbling to his feet, The Mercenary turned around, unlatched his Wu-S from its holster, and fired a single tranq dart into the Dude's head. The man's body jerked in place, then went lax as white comically-sized Z's materialized above the sleeping giant. Of course, he couldn't forget the rapid footsteps of the his new opponent charging into the building. Turning to face the approaching threat, the Mercenary was blindsided by the metallic frame of a stopsign to his upper torso- sending him rocketing into the opposite wall and out the other side of the building as he sprawled out against the ground. Eliciting a hoarse cough, the Mercenary rolled over on his back just in time to see the well-dressed avian leap into the air, holding the octagonal cudgle above its head in preparation for a ground slam. The Mercenary quickly rolled to the side just as the chicken landed with a downward swing- pulverizing the spot he had been in moments prior as he rolled to his feet. Within a second, the Mercenary had moved to close the distance as the chicken was still bringing the weapon up from its downward attack. Lunging to grab the stopsign by the middle pole, the Mercenary wrenched his opponent's weapon in a pull toward himself, before executing a right-footed kick to the being's diaphragm that sent the chicken into a doubled-over stagger; reflexivley releasing the pole which was soon tossed aside.

Wu-S still firmly clenched in-hand, the Mercenary leveled the tranq-gun at the being's head and pulled the trigger as the chicken collapsed to the ground. With both targets neutralized, the man turned on a pivot and made a running dash up to the besieged restaurants several flights of stairs ahead of him. He hadn't forgotten the words of the white-suited man, and with this event that had disrupted an otherwise quiet evening, he had wondered if that and had been involved in orchestrating this chaos.