[center][img]http://s22.postimg.org/jtr04y1ht/War_Pulse_Word_Art.png[/img][/center]

Before War-Pulse even had time to follow through on his brief offensive, another sonic scream came ripping through the air, forcing the mercenary to again huddle and cover his ears, trying to avoid permanent damage cause from such a horrid noise.  Before he knew it she was on him again, seemingly unfazed from his previous assault.  However, he was ready for her attacks this time.  Jumping back from her, he brought his arms up in a defensive posture, her fists and feet colliding with shockwave-inducing force into his forearms.  He was able to keep up with the renewed offense, weaving around her reach and catching her strikes before contact though unable to really strike back due to the disorientation from the scream she had delivered.  

However, while he was able to contend with her martial prowess during the exchange, he was unprepared for the attack with her hair.  His eyes popped wide as the glimmering tendrils wrapped around his form, giving a small yelp as he was lifted into the air.  The electric current surged through his body before he could free himself, his muscles contorting and flexing and he cried out in pain.  He felt himself hurled through the air, bouncing off of the hard, concrete floor and crashing into a pile of crates, shaking the room as he impacted and shattered the area around him.

He scurried to his feet in a quick fashion, surprisingly the grin on his face still unwavering as he resumed a fighting position.  As she screamed at him, he replied with the same machismo he had been carrying from the beginning of the fight.

[color=00aeef]"What?  You're not?  But this is such a fun game!"[/color]  The air around his body crackled and distorted as he chucked some of the debris out of his way. "Oh well, I suppose if you're going to start taking this seriously, I could pick up the pace as well!"

That's when she encased herself in a suit of armor, the metal plating appearing from out of nowhere and transforming her into an armored juggernaut.

[color=00aeef]"Oh, so [b]Now[/b] you bring out the big guns!"[/color]  He called out. [color=00aeef]"I'm honored, really, but I think I can handl--"[/color]

His voice was almost immediately cut out by the sound of her plasma rifle discharging a large bolt.  

[color=00aeef]"Oh, crap."[/color]  He murmured to himself as he just his hands out in an attempt to pull up a kinetic barrier, trying to cancel out the blow.  However, it was too late, and the searing plasma connected with a deafening crash, causing him to soar back, flying end over end until he burst out of the side of the warehouse.  The momentum continued to push him, bouncing along the street until he caved in the side of a car, causing the machine to nearly flip over.  As War-Pulse rose from the dented machine, he dusted off his coat, giving a short laugh once he saw the damage to the car.

[color=00aeef]"Ohohohoho!  Now [b]that's[/b] what I'm talking about!"[/color]  He said as he buried his hands into the hunk of disabled metal, hurling the car back at the hole in the warehouse before following up with a beam of kinetic energy, trying to keep the armored foe on his toes as he barreled in after his attack, his feet creating craters in the ground as he lunged back through the warehouse, leaping at the armored woman to unleash a series of punches and kicks of his own, testing the durability of this new mecha suit's capabilities.  

[color=00aeef]"Yeah, if I'm going to die, it's not going to be to a glam-rocker hair-flipper with a tin can suit!"[/color]  He shouted at her as he ducked underneath her strike zone amidst his flurry of blows.  With a twist of his body he attempted to finish his assault with an uppercut, increasing it's momentum with a kinetic burst from his elbow to launch the woman into a perfect follow-up position.  If it worked, he would attempt to catch her off guard with another energy burst, trying to launch her into the ceiling and bounce her back down to him so he could end this with a well-timed rising knee to the descending opponent's face.