Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20190809183250/@comment-5543592-20190831194008

This close, Denis could hear a metallic whirring noise emanating from Shrike. Her breaths were heavy, almost labored.

He put the cool barrel of the revolver flush agaisnt her skin, and the moment he did that she moved.

Her head shot back, out of the line of fire, and her hand flew forwards, restraining his wrist. The pistol fired, it's shot going wide, and Denis could only watch as Shrike seized his revolver and twisted it from his grip.

Shanks flew forwards, foot aimed her head, and Shrike swung the revolver into the mutant's shin. He heard, and felt, the bone fracture to pieces.

Shrike shot to her feet, turning on Denis, and slapped him across the face with his own weapon, and like Shanks he could feel his cheekbone seperate into shards.

Out of the hole in her back, blood trickled, taking with it little fragments of metal, the wound cleaning itself before sealing closed.

Spontanouesly, impossible, Shrike burst alight with fire, immolating her on the spot. The revolver in her hand began to melt, as did the armor she wore.

Shrike did not melt. She frowned, confused, and then smirked.

"You stupid, stupid people." The hitwoman murmured, seeming to delight in this development. The sleeves of her armor were turning to a molten liquid, and Shrike carelessly pried them from her arms and tossed them away.

She began to advance on Morgan, who had remained unscathed from the renewed assault.