The digital smoke cleared around Ogre. It stood stooped, as if tired, over what was supposed to be the corpse of its enemy. The machine's cyclopean face appeared almost... disappointed.

It rose to its full height as its head swiveled in search of the next opponent. [color=cyan]"...Still hungry."[/color] a rasp over the comm heralded the Gear's charge towards the remaining brawler, who fortunately had its back turned due to Ian's strategic placement. The heavy construction gear put every bit of power its leg servos could take and charged at the threat - but instead of colliding with it, extended a hand when ten meters apart. The thick whip flew over the Brawler's shoulder and wrapped around its torso, exactly when Ogre planted its feet in the ground and pulled downwards. If the brawler would charge forward, it would fall down where it stood. If it would walk back, it should fall on Ogre. And if it stood its ground to resist or turned around, well, that left all the opening Ian would ever need.

[color=cyan]"Check."[/color]