[center][h1][b]Ian Blackwood[/b][/h1][/center]

As the two zombies took aim at the night in shining armor, two thin knives with glowing, red hot blades flew through the air to enter the barrels of the two weapons, making them useless as the heat from the knives fucked up their internal mechanics. From behind the Paladin came a tall man with a big box of what appeared to be frosted Safeway cookies and a cake with a label on it saying, 'For the L.A. Center for Humans, please accepts this cake and learn to be more accepting yourselves while you enjoy it. With Love, Ian Blackwood!'. The man holding the Cake was tall, with a slight bit of black, five O'clock shadow, his long, dyed blond hair tied into a pony tail behind him, the hair in front kept in check by a bandanna with the Reformist logo on it in full view. He was dressed in what was supposed to be formal attire, a black three piece suit with a white dress shirt underneath, but the suit and the shirt were both unbuttoned, showing off his well-muscled chest, a tribal-looking tattoo, and a couple nasty looking scars as well.

His dark grey eyes went from the armored man and his zombie goons, to the guy in knight armor, then to the womanma short ways away who looked scared shitless, before going back to the obvious villains. Whether Paladin was on the ground or standing up after getting shot, the man would grab him by the back of his armor with his left hand, push the sweets into his arms with his right, never taking hus eyes off his opponents.

[b]"Look, I don't know who you are or what you're trying to prove, but I'm telling right now, get the fuck out of here if you want to live. I can tell just by looking at you that you can hardly walk in that armor, so you'll just be collateral damage in a fight against this guy, unless you can use a light bow, or something. If you want to be the hero, take that woman over there to safety."[/b] The man tilted his head a little, tapping his finger against his chin as if he was in deep thought before he continued. [b]"Oh, and have a cookie if you want, it and the cake will probably go to waste in my fridge. I don't have much of a craving for sweets these days."[/b]

After giving the Paladin his orders, the man stepped forward, looking at his opponents with a critical eye. He didn't think much of the two thugs, but the guy in the trenchcoat was definitely not someone to be underestimated. He could feel it in his gut, that guy was bad news. Raising up his hands, he'd reveal the strange gloves he wa wearing, which were black with blue lines running through them and looked kinda like a biker glove. The lines glowed as a puff of reflective powder enter the air, before instantly forming 6 knives, these ones being a bit thicker in both the blade and the handle, but were still perfectly balanced.

[b]"Well then, Mr. Genocidal Maniac and Co., allow me to introduce myself."[/b] As he spoke, Ian threw two knives at each person, aiming for either the shoulder orthe knee. The knives were special shock knives,,and each one packed the strength of a taser. [b]"I'm Ian Blackwood, face of the Reformists and the guy who gets crucified by the public everytime dumb Metas do stupid shit, like you and your cronies did here."[/b] Ian waited to see if his knives would hit, and if they did, if they would even work, before charging the enemy. He was currently in his Vibration set, which was how he heated up those first two knives, molecular friction through Vibration, so if the main guy got hit and seemed to be affected by the shock, he'd go in while he's stunned at him with gut punch that would have enough seismic force put into it to make him throw up rather violently. He was onky slightly worried about the armor getting in the eay of the knives, for their thinner blades were made to pierce armor, though the shock ones were a bit thicker, so they might not work as well in thia instance, especially since he has no idea what the armor is made of.

[i]Today was just supposed to be a simple publicity visit to show that the Reformist were trying to work with those who hate Metas as well as try and foster a sense of acceptance. And it had been fucking working too, before this asshole comes in and flushes a years worth of ass kissing, gifts, and tolerance in one fell swoop. He's lucky I don't aim for his balls, hell,,I still just might do it anyway! Man, I really, really . . . . . . [b]really[/b] hate this job.[/i]

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