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Well, This Is Awkward


Sszinid

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Monday, March 10, 2014

4:00 PM

 

It was always a good day when Gideon got to go grocery shopping.

 

It sounded silly, but it was kinda the highlight of the week. He got to go smell real food and then actually eat some. After taking Professor Steele out for lunch he'd had to fall back on emergency kibble for a couple of meals, but after a couple of long nights of work he was back on budget and could afford ramen noodles and lentils again. Plus, the Bayview branch of Harvest Market always had free samples in the bakery, meaning he could taste something else for once.

 

This Harvest Market was one of the bigger ones in Freedom City, a tall warehouse-like building that took up most of a city block. Gideon took a little time and made an event of his visit, salivating over the chocolate-covered raisins and fresh salmon, collecting all of the samples from the deli and the bakery, enjoying the warmth of the store. It'd warmed up a bit outside, mostly sunny with a high of 42, but the forecast said he might be taking calls in the freezing rain that night.

 

Better soak up the comfort while he could. His stitches still hurt.

 

God knew he needed a break; he'd only been Mindsteel for a week and was already twice as exhausted as usual. He'd cleverly concealed his costume inside his crummy apartment with a bit of loose carpet and an unsecured floorboard; he would put a couch over it, or something, but he didn't own any furniture except his dresser, sleeping in a sleeping bag on the floor. No, it was good to get out and just be normal again, doing normal person things in a normal person place.

 

Of course, fate has a way of interfering. There's a saying about the best-laid plans...

Edited by Sszinid
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Amanda stretched her arms out as she walked through the automatic sliding doors to the Harvest Market. Being a superhero was a bit tough sometimes, well kind of tough, but you got used to it. Most of the time it was all about just being out there like they said in class, being out there in case somebody needs you. Seeing someone in a costume was supposed to be a deterrent or some such like when you see a police car driving next to you and then you start driving the speed limit. Something like that.

 

Anyhow, most days were just spent on a series of nice perches with her phone or just flying around. Though today her mom had asked if she could go out and get some groceries on her way back from her "extra curricular activities," after a bit of texting back and forth Amanda had agreed that she would go shopping if her mom would come and pick her up when she was done (there was no way Amanda was going to let herself be seen flying through the air with plastic bags dangling from both arms).

 

Lessee... first items on the list: Milk, Eggs, Cereal... just basic stuff. Could mom really not have been bothered to go and do this all herself later in the week? Whatever, at least Amanda was going to pick out some candy for herself while she was here...

 

Okay... Milk... looks like the back of the store.

 

With that she grabs a shopping cart and starts walking all the way back...

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GM

 

Staring out from the back of the unmarked white van, The Coffinmaker smiled. It was not a pleasant sight.

 

He was bent double just to fit into the vehicle, easily ten feet tall when he stood upright. Whenever he leaned to the side, the van leaned with him. Stone-hard muscles rippled beneath his immaculate ash-grey business suit every time he moved. His dinner-plate hands could wrap around a man's head as if it were a baseball. The flesh of his face clung close to his skull, his thin, wide lips drawn back from pointed teeth. His sunken eyes flickered with an unhallowed teal glow.

 

His men were in position, halloween masks and automatic weapons at the ready. It was time to make his grand entrance. Stepping out of the vehicle, which rose nearly a foot when his weight was removed, he stalked toward the entrance of Harvest Market, his footsteps somehow utterly silent. His men moved in as one, kicking in every entrance and covering it with their submachine guns. Panic erupted, shoppers screaming and diving for cover behind racks of frozen produce.

 

But no one opened fire. The Coffinmaker walked through the automatic main doors, their metal warping and twisting with rust as he passed. And then he spoke, his voice a rasp and yet somehow a bellow, reaching every corner of the store. "There is no escape," he said, eyes flashing. Turning, he watched as several other masked goons brought forward the bound and gagged Channel 9 crew and their equipment. It took little persuasion to make them begin their broadcast.

 

"Harvest Market has been taken," the hulking figure hissed. "The only chance for these people is to send the one called Amelyth, alone, to face me. If the police or any other hero dares approach, everyone inside will die. I will kill one person each twenty minutes Amelyth delays." The Coffinmaker smiled even wider, as though ready to swallow the world, as the broadcast ceased. This weak heroine would come, and in slaying her his reputation would be sealed.

 

She was merely the first on his alphabetical list. More would soon follow her to the grave...

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"Well sh*t," Gideon muttered, eyes wide with shock, as a dozen men in halloween masks burst into the store. He let go of his basket and dove to the ground, falling hard on the concrete floor. All around him people screamed and ran, panic overtaking them. This was supposed to be a nice neighborhood. He expected bullets to start flying over his head any second now. Aaaany second now. But no attack came, only a voice that sent shivers down the young man's spine.

 

Gideon had never heard of any "Amelyth," but given how many heroes there were in this crazy city that wasn't all that surprising. He could only hope that she was listening and nearby; this plan to get ahold of her wasn't exactly foolproof. What if she was in a business meeting or taking an afternoon nap or halfway across the city? She hadn't been given much time; there might be quite a body count by the time she arrived. That left Gideon in quite the pickle.

 

He didn't have his costume, and if he started waving around his psiblade in public (which sounded a little dirty in his head) someone would soon make the connection between him and Mindsteel; weapons of pure thought weren't exactly common. Besides, he'd be going up against a dozen armed men and one seriously nasty-looking customer, all willing to kill everyone here if the wrong hero showed up. But if he waited, people here might die. Himself included.

 

Picking himself up but staying low, he stared around. There were two men at each of the six exits: two automatic doors at the front, where the malicious giant was also standing, a loading dock and an employee exit at the back, and an automatic side door on each side of the store. Shelving blocked line of sight between all of the entrances except the two front ones, but it looked like the goons were carrying walkie-talkies and checking in regularly.

 

He was going to have to be damn careful if he was going to do anything...

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Amanda was sheltered from the panicked crowds of people for a few moments simply because she was so engrossed in picking out the right variety of spaghetti sauce for a few moments (store brand? how about this brand? that one has chunks and mushrooms in it...). Though when she heard the voice, a small wave of panic swept over her.. Wait,... What?? He's asking for Amelyth? Me? D-does he have my family? D-does he know something about the night I blacked out that I don't? H-He's going to kill people to get to me?!?

 

She hunched over and took a few deep breaths, setting the jars that where in her hands on some arbitrary spot on the shelf, Calm down.... you've been trained for this.... right? riight? Yeah. Whatever, just... deep breaths, calm down, you're no help to anyone if you can't calm down. In... out... in... out.. in... "Haaaah..." Amanda started talking to herself just under her breath, "Okay. just, just need to get up there and show them who's boss, alright? You can do this... yes you can. You must or someone's going to get hurt, or they'll die."

 

She paced over to the end of an aisle and looked around, "okay. people running around. bad guys spaced around the store, at the entrances. gotta. gotta... gotta keep identity secret um. ah. mask's in the pocket okay. wig is, wig is..." she checks around her jacket pockets and finds her purple wig tucked into one of the inner pockets, it's a bit messy, but she just puts it on over her hair anyways, after that she places her white domino mask on over her eyes. "well, haaah... here goes!" She has the rest of her costume on her person, though that'll take too long to do and there's no way she's going to be changing pants out in the open like this. This'll have to do to keep her identity safe at the moment, hopefully no one's going to be looking too closely at the security tapes for this...

 

Amelyth finds herself taking a few more moments to calm her nerves though, and she's pretty sure the bad guys are going to notice someone standing around in a purple wig and with a white mask on. Alright... Wings Out!

With a flash of energy her iconic translucent purple wings spring from her back and she finds herself stomping a path towards the front of the store and words coming out of her mouth as she now mentally takes on her super-identity. "H-Hey! How's a girl supposed to get some shopping down around here! Yeah, you heard me mister whats-your-bucket!"

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GM

 

The Coffinmaker turned toward the voice, one little lioness among all these pathetic, scurrying curs. Truly the hand of fate had intervened to bring his prey to this exact place. Now Channel Nine would capture his victory as he broke her and burned this place to ashes around her corpse. Her costume wasn't particularly impressive, mostly civilian clothing, and her attempt at banter left something to be desired; in so many ways she was no more than a mere girl. But those wings, they were a sign of power. When he tore them away, Freedom City would know him and fear him.

 

"Now you see that our meeting is preordained," he thundered, the mere vibrations of his deep, booming voice knocking canned vegetables from their shelves. "Come, child. I will teach you the meaning of pain and despair. But if you prove a worthy foe, then I will make your death equally worthy." He curled his massive hands into fists, the teal fires burning in his eyes glowing all the brighter. His slasher smile stretched impossibly across his face until it seemed quite literally ear to ear. And then he waited, still as stone, for the young heroine to make her move.

 

The masked guards waited equally impassively, though their trigger fingers lay ready. The shoppers kept cowering beneath and behind racks of food, toothpaste, and tissues. Cell phones came out, calls made to the police; the hostage-takers stayed at the doors, making no move to stop the outside contact. They held all the cards; there was nothing the police could do without heavy casualties. But The Coffinmaker knew that his time was limited. Sooner or later heroes would respond in force; he would have to break this overly-brave little girl before that happened.

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What? Okay? This guy's a schizo or physco or something. Pain and despair? Really? Isn't that what the bad guys say in video games before the heroes kick their faces in? Amelyth blinked a few times, "I'm not going to honor whatever your just said mister what's-your-bucket with a proper reply since all I heard was crazy. How about you just pack up your crazy and leave before I have to do this!" With that not so great comeback, the young heroine inhales deeply as wild energy crackles around her lips before she exhales and 'Mister What's-His-Bucket'-and whatever goons may be next to him-gets caught in a wave of wild psionic energy. Edited by ChrisClark13
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Gideon's eyes widened as the requested heroine suddenly arose from the crowd within the store, unleashing a purple wave that drove one of the thugs to his knees. Well, that's convenient. But the hulking challenger remained unbowed and unbroken, casually stepping to where the blast was weaker and then letting it wash over him without flinching. Gideon swore under his breath; the brute was tough. He doubted that he'd be much help against that kind of villain, and he couldn't attack without giving himself away anyway. So what the heck was he going to do?

 

Glancing back toward the guards at the loading dock, he felt the beginnings of a plan take shape in his mind. If Amelyth failed, or if the villain proved a sore loser, it would be better if people had a way to escape. God willing, he could arrange that without giving himself away. Swiftly and silently he launched himself into motion, headed for the loading dock at the back; it was the least conspicuous entrance. He kept low, using the aisles and tables as cover, letting the sound of the battle muffle his footsteps. Casting around for something heavy, he picked up a gallon jug of milk.

 

He'd managed to maneuver himself behind the duo of thugs, noting their heavy body armor and confident grip on their weapons. They had literally every advantage over him except surprise, so he would have to make the most of that. Crouching, he sprang for the first one's back, lifting the gallon jug high over his head and bringing it down hard on the goon's masked noggin. Milk exploded over the two of them, the bigger man stumbling forward in shock but failing to go down. Gideon frowned; knocking people out was easier in the movies. And now he was in real trouble.

 

As the other thug turned toward him, gun ready, he wondered if he should've left this hero business up to Amelyth...

Edited by Sszinid
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GM

 

The Coffinmaker laughed, a sound like fingernails on a chalkboard mixed with screeching brakes and shattering glass, as Amelyth's energy wave passed harmlessly over him. He took no notice of the thug who was hit full in the chest, driven backward toward the checkout counter, nor of the one who dove for cover rather than get in the way of the fight a second time. This was between him and the little girl, and his confidence in his victory was only growing.

 

"My turn. A shame; I was hoping for a challenge." Lifting one sausage-like finger, he directed a ray of green-black mist to streak across the store and slam into the young heroine. It morphed into the shape of a screaming skull mid-flight, jaws open wide as if to devour Amelyth's very soul, and the Coffinmaker's nightmarish laughter echoed above it all. The effect was admittedly somewhat let down by the fact that it happened in broad daylight in a supermarket, like no horror movie ever.

 

Meanwhile, as the thug Gideon had struck struggled to regain his feet, his partner reacted to the interloper's presence. A hasty burst of submachine gun fire shredded a fresh produce display just over the young man's shoulder, shattering the sprinklers and creating a brief rain of carrot and celery chunks along with broken glass and plastic. It was a poor shot, taken out of surprise in the heat of the moment, and the thug immediately began to adjust his aim...

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Amelyth flinches a bit as she finds her eyes slamming shut as she sees the skull coming out her to devour her very soul... she can make out a flash of light behind her eye lids and opens them back up to find that her wings, curled around her front, have blocked the attack completely. With a small flourlish she flicks her wings back, sending the last bits of the green-black mist flying off them. "Maybe you should see what happens before you decide if I'm gonna be a challenge or not!"

 

Then she runs at Mister-What's-His-Bucket at full tilt, her hands being enveloped in purple energy that takes the shape of an pair of dragon claws that looks oversized the way it's laid over on her hands. At the end of her charge she brings her right claw in a swift movement, aiming to cause some serious pain.

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Without his armored costume, Gideon was the squishiest guy in the room; a single shot from one of those SMGs would probably put him in the grave, and they fired fast. So he did his best to press what little advantage he'd gained with his surprise attack. Dropping the ruined milk carton, he leapt at the thug who'd shot at him and brought his fist upward as hard as he could, cracking his knuckles into the man's jaw. It was a truly solid punch, damn good for someone who'd never been trained in combat, but the armored mask dampened the effect somewhat and really hurt Gideon's hand.

 

Regardless, the thug stumbled backward, knocking over a rack of two-liter soda bottles. His milk-soaked comrade, however, had recovered himself. Gideon saw him aiming out of the corner of his eye and dove left just as a hail of bullets obliterated a table of salsa samples. So far he'd been lucky, staying one step ahead of his chosen opponents, but he couldn't count on that luck to hold; even if he took these two down, there was no telling if reinforcements would be dispatched to deal with him. Or if the thugs would just start shooting to punish his interference.

 

But he doubted they intended to leave anyone alive anyway, so he might as well try to save whomever he could...

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GM

 

The Coffinmaker's sneer couldn't go any wider without tearing the pallid flesh of his head, but it would have if it could have. He was not in the least upset that his attack had failed to wound Amelyth; there was time enough for that after a worthy fight. "Impressive, child. Perhaps this has not been a complete waste of time. Your death will serve to make my reputation after all." She lunged at him with her purple claws, and he sidestepped with surprising agility for someone so huge. Then he swiveled on the spot, backhanding the young heroine with one colossal fist.

 

The thug Amelyth had battered with her psychic wind joined his comrade in cover behind the checkout counter. They were clearly present only to prevent the hostages from escaping; any interference in the fight would lessen their boss's reputation, and that would be a fatal mistake.

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Amelyth snaps her left arm up, with her wing following it's movement to form a shield, to take the hit just in time as the back of the guy's huge hand came flying at her, Ah! Whatever!" Clearly she's not in the mood for back-and-forth banter anymore since she can't seem to land a single hit on this huge guy that should totally not be a problem to land a hit on but argh. "Just shut up!!" With that outburst she flails her right arm at the guy, hopefully actually landing a hit this time.

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Time was running out for Gideon; he could see that one thug was leaving each of the other entrances to come deal with him. He felt a little proud that he'd managed to make such a nuisance of himself without the benefit of his powers, but pride goeth before a fall, and that was what looked to be coming his way. Sooner or later he'd get hit or brought down by sheer numbers, and that would be the end of it; he would have accomplished nothing. So it was time to change the game, as discreetly as possible. Fortunately, the two thugs were standing close together.

 

He'd discovered how fast he could move now quite by accident, like the rest, but he had fairly fine control of that particular ability. Tapping into that speed, he swing clasped fists toward the thugs in a sweeping haymaker blow. As far as the cameras, and even his opponents, were concerned, he would just have taken advantage of his position to hit them both. Gideon's fists glanced off the first thug's mask, but smashed into the second with immense force; he was pretty sure he'd broken the man's jaw. The thug slumped over, conscious but only barely so, fumbling for his dropped gun.

 

The first thug opened fire again, but his hasty burst as he fell back from Gideon's blow went into the ceiling, missing even the light fixtures. But it wasn't time for celebration just yet; this fight had been tough, and the number of hostile participants was about to triple...

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GM

 

"You prefer silence?" The Coffinmaker asked, once again avoiding the young heroine's blow. "You shall have it soon enough, and it shall last forever, for it is the silence of the grave!" Still, he was forced to admit that perhaps the duo was more evenly matched than he would care to admit; she'd taken punches that could bend streetlights and remained standing. Now that they'd traded a few blows, shown that she was a worthy foe, it was time to end this little game. He charged forward, heedless of his own safety, and smashed his fists into Amelyth with the force of a freight train.

 

He was confident that this would be the final word in their little contest.

Edited by Sszinid
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Amelyth gets herself launched back to the back of the store, she flies straight down the cereal aisle before coming to an abrupt stop in a small display table filled with various holiday chocolates near the refrigerated section. She lays on her back, catching her breath for a few moments, clearly not prepared for the sudden abrupt changes in direction that being in a superpowered fight can cause, "Aaaah, ow."

 

She looks around seeing some guy in street clothes fighting off some goons, she waves a little bit before getting started picking herself back up, Nee- ah, need any help over there mister?"

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A heavy thud, and a lull in the hulking villain's stereotypical banter, caused Gideon to look up a moment from his own battle. He stared, eyes wide with awe, as the young superheroine flew straight across the store toward him like a speeding bullet. She streaked past cereal boxes, her sheer velocity shredding them and spreading a rain of Rice Krispies and Raisin Bran in her wake. God, he wished he could do that. It looked so effortless. And then she hit one of the sample tables, scattering clearance Valentine's Day chocolates around her.

 

It finally dawned on him that she wasn't flying over to help him; she'd been hit that hard.

 

Damn, he was out of his weight class; a punch like that could've taken his head clean off. And here she was, still able to quip. "Yes, please," Gideon told her, doing his best to not imitate her banter; he was supposed to be nothing more than a concerned citizen here. Of course, compared to her level of power, he pretty much was even on his best day. But maybe he had a chance to give her a breather here, a minute to regain her feet. He rushed the thug who remained standing, determined to finish their little slugfest.

 

Reaching him, Gideon channeled everything he'd learned in a dozen years of self-defense classes. He brushed the SMG's barrel aside, pushing it left with his left hand so it didn't track across his body, then stamped down hard on the guy's foot. As shock and pain made the guy tense, he brought the same leg up and drove his knee into his opponent's groin. The guy crumpled with a sad little wheeze, his chin coming down just in time to meet Gideon's rising fist. There was a half-second's hangtime before he crashed to the floor, unconscious.

 

Gideon grinned; he was pretty good at this! That grin faded as four more thugs, guns at the ready, took up positions around him...

Edited by Sszinid
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GM

 

The Coffinmaker snarled in triumph, shaking the tension from his fists where he'd struck the young heroine. He tracked her flight up one of the aisles to the back of the store, then began to tromp slowly after her, savoring the moment as he closed in for the kill. She'd managed to miss hitting anything too solid, which was something of a disappointment; having her break her back on a shelf or get impaled on a candy rack would have been immensely satisfying. But at least this way he would get to savor the fight a little longer.

 

Behind him, the Channel Nine crew kept filming. They might die, but reporters in this city ran that risk, and this was awesome footage.

 

The thugs surrounding Gideon and Amelyth ignored the heroine, making no move to target her; the Coffinmaker's orders to leave the fight between the two of them would be obeyed to the letter. Gideon, however, had no such protection. He was lucky he was so nimble, hitting the floor behind the sample table Amelyth had knocked over just in time to avoid a hail of bullets that shredded what little was left of the displays in the back of the store. The Coffinmaker rolled his eyes; couldn't his men get rid of this irrelevant nuisance?

 

No matter; if this sad little insect was still standing when he arrived, he would break the fool with a single blow.

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Amelyth rolls herself onto her feet using her wings and then straightens out, "Lets what I can do before what's-his-bucket makes it back here then!" She looks around for the baddies while her wings resume their defensive position. The heroine inhales deeply as she dramatically leans backwards so the random civvie and the goons can get a small glimpse at what's about to happen. With a sudden lean forwards she exhales a wide stream of wild psionic energy which washes over the goons over to the right side of Gideon.

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Gideon watched, open-mouthed, as the purple-clad heroine did exponentially more in six seconds than he'd done in thirty. All around him thugs reeled back, tossed about like litter in a hurricane as Amelyth's energy wave washed over them. Only one of them even remained standing strong, so Gideon pounced on him, swinging his blade. Yet whatever fiber had let the man resist the first psionic attack lent him strength against the second as well, and the shimmering sword passed through him without knocking his lights out.

 

Then Gideon turned just in time to see the hulking supervillain bearing down on him...

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GM

 

The Coffinmaker closed the remaining distance with a sudden sprint; with so many of his men taken down, he risked police intervention or escapees if he waited too long. It was time to finish this little game, starting with the nuisance who'd dared to interfere with the course of the fight. He seized the young man by the face, massive hands wrapping around the back of his head and choking off his oxygen. When he had hung there for several seconds, kicking frantically but futilely against his captor's chest, the Coffinmaker effortlessly threw him across the store and into a rack of potato chips.

 

"Now," he asked Amelyth, his rictus grin still in place, "where were we?"

Edited by Sszinid
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  • 3 weeks later...

Amelyth gasps as he watches the brute strangle the young man who she was just helping out. She points a defiant claw at him shakily as she tries to regain her composure. "We- We're at the part where I knock you into next week! The heroine lets out a defiant yell as she charged at the guy with all her strength, clawed hand raised high in the air.

 

She leaps as she nears the dreaded mister-whats-his-bucket and aims to try and get in a solid hit against her first real challenge in the superheroing business.

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GM

 

Almost the moment the Coffinmaker turned around, Amelyth was on him. The force of her sudden blow fell, for the first time, squarely on his broad chest. Ribs cracked, and those monstrous, glowing eyes widened in disbelief as the hulking villain flew backwards into the gunfire-shattered produce display. He lay there amidst broken glass and drifting parsley leaves, the splitting grin wiped from his face as he shook with shock and fury. His impotent struggle to free himself from aluminum shelving was not what he wanted Channel 9 to see.

 

"So you have some teeth, little dog," he wheezed. "Fine. I shall extract them one by one!"

 

Across the store, atop a pile of thoroughly-crushed Doritos, Gideon groaned. Everything hurt, but nothing seemed to be broken, so he struggled back to his feet as quickly as he could make his aching limbs respond. Unfortunately, that wasn't very quickly.

Edited by Sszinid
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The heroine felt a rush of exhilaration as she finally landed in a solid hit against "Mister What's His Bucket" and sent him flying, she just stood there for a little bit from the rush of it all. Though when he called her a 'little dog' it seemed to have struck a nerve or something inside her brain, or maybe she just wanted something to have a good comeback to.

 

Whatever it was, Amelyth started running towards the brute while making another attempt at banter, "It's Little Dragon to you!" Little Dragon? Shouldn't she have said 'Amelyth' or perhaps 'Miss Dragon'? Anyhow, she leaps into the air again and brings down another mighty claw strike.

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