Log:The Bigger They Are, The Harder They Fall

2019/10/25 Sinmore Enforcer 1

After returning from Hawaii, you'd think that Talia would be exhausted. Turning into a fire giantess and unleashing torrents of flame and concentrated flame and carrying vast amounts of weight surely must take it out of a woman! Yet here Talia is, jogging along StarDancer Boulevard toward Space Burger, and wearing a proper jogging outfit. One could almost believe that Talia doesn't exist in a world being threatened by certain destruction by natural satellite impact.

Those aren't the only threats, at least not now, for Talia. Destroying the Earth would probably get the job done, but there are some holding a grudge. They are also impatient. Most importantly, their funds are nearly limitless.

Talia has a shadow, though only in name, as it travels above her, utilizing the second superhighway known as the rooftops.

Alas and alack, Talia Sintergaard is a master of many skills, but noticing tails is not particularly in her wheelhouse. She idly sings along to some song or another in a foreign language of some sort. Mercifully it's not Latin, so she can't be summoning demons or casting spells on her rooftop-loving shadow.

Rooftops are useful, but they don't eliminate targets. If they did, more peple would use them for more than just transportation. The shadow moves slightly ahead, waiting for the jogger to pass underneath before dropping/flinging a handful of pellets at her.

Seeing people bounding along rooftops is not that uncommon in Colonial Bay. Talia sees people bounding rooftop to rooftop dozens - perhaps hundreds - of times a day. It isn't remarkable to her that there's someone bounding out ahead of her on the rooftops, just barely at the periphery of her field of vision.

No, what catches her attention is the rate of speed and the angle of movement out ahead of her. Talia blinks a little bit, turning her head as she keeps jogging along. For several seconds, Talia tracks the figure until it suddenly reveals its treachery. Blinking, Talia dives sideways into an alley way on the assumption that she's about to get blown up by a pile of exploding pellets. Rolling to her feet, Talia shrieks in terror as white hot light flares in front of her face from every angle.

Promptly, Talia staggers backward while one hand flails outward to slap against a brick wall. Her other hand comes up to her face, clutching at her eyes as she staggers and stumbles. Dimly, Talia wonders why it's gotta be one of /THOSE/ days?

The figure, clad in a black, lightly armored bodysuit, leaps down from above and into the alley, bounding down betweent he bordering walls. Watching Talia stagger, he chuckles. "Here I thought you might be a challenge." The voice is masculine, its pitch suggesting a younger man.

"Oh, honey," intones Talia, sounding slightly disappointed. She balls her fingers into the palms of her hands, fists tightening so swiftly that her joints creak audibly. Her breathing steadies as she plants her feet and taps into the fire coursing through her veins. In seconds, Talia's body doubles in size before swelling even further.

Muscles layer over muscles while her workout clothes strain to contain her changing dimensions. Her jogging shoes are the first to simply explode under the strain, her black-painted toes bursting onto the scene a moment before her sports bra starts to rip dangerously, reinforced spandex fibers spraying in every direction as her green eyes turn into emerald points of flame in her glittering, increasingly black sclera.

"Shoulda just said you wanted a challenge from the start," rumbles Sinmore as her jogging pants start to splinter at the seams. She reaches up with increasingly rocky fingers to tie her rapidly lengthening hair back into a ponytail a moment before it simply explodes into flame. Cracking her neck and shoulders with sharp twists and motions, Sinmore's hands fall to her sides as chainmail and scalemail armor replace her failing mortal clothing. Black scale-plated boots engulf her feet and calves practically to her knees while a glittering chainmail long coat unfurls from her shoulders to complete the armored outfit.

"I'd tell you to show me what you got, but some punk made it awful difficult for me to see."

Sinmore lets out a sigh. Hot air rolls off her large form as she towers over the black-clad murderman before her and slightly to the left of where she's looking. FOOLISH SIGHT GROUP FLASHES! SINMORE WILL SMASH!

Controlling her breathing the best that she can, Sinmore clenches her fists and slowly sinks into a common defensive stance. It's a very bar brawler style of defense, but how tricksy could a giant woman be when she's blind? Besides, how competitive could Xenamore really be against a /NINJA/?

"Consider yourself challenged. Don't worry, I won't make you suffer long," comes assurance. "Others reserved the right to that." There is another rattle of things before they're flung her way.

The pellets explode on contact once more, though this time in the form of a nauseating, impairing gas that forms a momentary cloud around Sinmore.

"Oh. Oh, honey," intones Sinmore at her unseen assailant's speech. She shakes her head sadly, even as she listens to the rattling of new explosive pellets. The fire giantess grumbles to herself, launching herself backward a few steps in hopes of dodging the effects. Instead, Sinmore ends up snorting several streamers of the sickening gas. Forced to dry heave, Sinmore slams one fist against a rock hard thigh while her other fist smashes into the brick wall beside her.

Straightening herself out, Sinmore shifts into that ready defensive posture again. Breathing in deep in spite of the lingering gas, Sinmore slowly grits her teeth and prepares herself for the next stage of the onslaught.

"I'm not your honey, -Honey-," comes the annoyed retort, dripping with annoyance. "I like them big, but you come up a little short." Steps approach her, and there is the quiet SNIKT of a drawn blade before he strikes, perhaps making a ...point.

Or perhaps it is merely an initimidation tactic? Fortunately, no one saw that.

Sinmore blindly - drunkenly - weaves out of the way of the blade as it slashes toward her large, heavily armored form. Her vision clears gradually, green flames flickering and winking into and out of existence in the obsidian orbs that are her eyes. A long, slow smile spreads across her lips as she spies the black-clad, dark-haired ninja before her.

"Peek-a-boo!"

Inexplicably, Sinmore promptly belches a roaring inferno from her mouth. Dragon's Breath, the quicker DOOM DATE ender.

Enforcer brings up arms reflexively to help shield his face has the flames was over him. His suit is singed, as is some of his hair (the hair!). Eyes narrow behind the lenses, which may or may not be automated to pass-through the emotive. "Hello. Goodbye." He steps forward, shifting his weight as he brings the blade to bear.

Sinmore uses +BODY to increase Body statistic.

Sinmore cracks her knuckles as she wades into battle with the sword-equipped young ninja in front of her. His blade slips neatly between the scales of her armored outfit and digs into her stony flesh with a violent sound of metal-on-stone. Fountains of sparks gout out from underneath Sinmore's armor as she hisses in pain, eyes narrowing while her lips peel back to expose her polished stone teeth.

Both of Sinmore's hands come up, uncurling her fingers as she feigns grievous mortal injury. The act lasts for precious little time as she tries to grab at Evil Enforcer's face, the heat radiating from her body ramping up dramatically as her hands draw near. Roiling, distressed air comes dangerously close to Evil Enforcer's face - and Dat Hair! - before it suddenly becomes too hot. Sinmore shoves twin columns of super-heated air at his face as they explode into a sudden, searing blast of flame and heat and light that she hopes will blind him!

Enforcer's face is not so rude as to interfere with the lady's blowing of hot air and ducks out of the way. The sharp blade proving not quite sharp enough to his liking against stone, he moves under the the raised arms while still ducking, putting several meters distance between them before turning. With the motion of the turn, his free hand tosses a number of small discs at her. Disks, not pellets, though it is a continued penchant for throwing things at her.

Some of the disks scatter around her, others stick to her stone hide briefly. Just long enough to discharge a tuned energy surge.

Energy surges around Sinmore's large form as her stone muscles flex. Her face is trapped in a rictus of agony as the tuned energy roars through her nerves and over her body. Dozens of sickly black-green streamers of smoke rise from various points on her armor and body as the energy cooks her armor quite effectively. When it finally shuts off, Sinmore finds her voice and offers up a choked scream of agony.

Staggering for a few seconds, Sinmore pants while she tries to regain her senses. It takes her a moment. At which point the streamers of smoke erupt into flame. Fire licks over Sinmore's armored body as she starts charging toward Enforcer - she is alarmingly fast for being so big - as tongues of flame whirl and dance around her in an ever shifting nimbus of danger. For a breath-takingly beautiful instant, it almost looks like someone super-imposed a video stream of the sun's surface over the image of a sprinting Sinmore.

Which is precisely when Sinmore enters her target range.

The air around her is engulfed in a ball of fire. Sound is replaced by the fury of an enormous explosion that rocks the alley way. God help Hunter if he is as close to Sinmore as she intends him to be when she sets off this Close-Quarters Combustion.

Enforcer shields his face with forearms once more against the heat, though this time the rush of superheated air and slightly gooey asphalt make his footing treacherous for a moment. He is further singed, though the coloration of his suit makes it more inconspicuous than it might be. "I liked your other cry better..." Probably the one that wasn't calling him Honey or something in Jotun that was conjuring fire. Like the screaming. Since they seemed to snuff the flames briefly and brought out her singing voice, he flings another set of disks at her.

Sinmore screams silently in absolute agony as the disks erupt in another tuned energy surge. Her body locks up and her eyes roll up in her skull as she drops to her knees with thick streamers of smoke rising from her body's fringes now. There is a terrible sound of IMPACT when Sinmore slams face-first into the ground.

The real question, now that Enforcer has knocked out his target, is how does he plan to extract an 8 metric ton woman before she wakes up?

Enforcer could make a comment about how the bigger they are, the harder they... but, no, he'll keep that to himself, and with a smile. "Target down. Prepping for retrieval," he notes to none in particular. Down, but not out. That was the explicit preference, and the more danerous option. He checks his belt, selecting several more disks to slap then on the slumbering outcropping in several places. A few are triggered to discharge. Just to be on the safe side... or for testing... or just for fun.

It's a job, but there's no reason he can't enjoy his work, right?

Once Enforcer is certain that Sinmore is all tucked up all snug for her travel like a child given their Dramamine, he pulls another disk from his belongings. He looks at her again and retrieves three more. Chest, thigh, wrist, and opposing foot all receive one. There might be less payout if a limb or two were accidentally left behind. "Go for tranport," he cues.

There is a FLASHFLASHFLASHFLASHGRUNTTHWUUUUUUUMP as Sinmore vanishes.

Followed by a simple FLASHTHWUMP as Enforcer follows.