[center]-=-=Eidolic Cairn=-=-[/center]

Not a moment’s rest awaited Gomory, but she was ready.  Finally the giant made his move, rushing out of cover and toward her, his every footstep pounding the stone with the sound of a miniature thunderclap.  In the ghostly light of the Eidolic Cairn the Rage Bringer gleamed like a butcher’s cleaver.  Wordlessly she engaged him, holding her sheathed weapon in both hands to beat down his upward slash before returning to a normal stance for the duel.  They fought savagely, a whirlwind of metal against metal.  In order to keep herself in a prime position for retaliation, she endeavored to avoid his thrusts and slashes, but his defense prevented her from making a decisive strike.  

For a quarter-minute their highly-mobile battle ensued, furious and brutal on both sides.  Several of her punishing swings made contact against his legs and shoulders, but an unexpected pommel strike chipped the tip of her left horn off, and after an unlucky deflection on Gomory’s part the Nephilim managed to gouge at her left ankle.  Then, in the midst of the heated rumble, he saw fit to apologize.  The shadow of a grin passed over her, though even her opponent would be hard-pressed to spot it.  [color=E0115F]”On the contrary.  It is...eyah!...refreshing to fight an actual combatant.””[/color]  Spotting an opening, she aimed her clublike weapon at Wrath’s face to clock him on the chin, and in the process unconsciously overextended herself.  The next instant, a horizontal slice from the Rage Bringer flew toward her belly, and she hopped backward—not far enough, and the blade bit into her flesh, spraying murky blood onto the stone.  Gomory gave a light gasp, but the smile on her face made it seem as if the weapon kissed her rather than cut her.  Any praise that she might have extended to Wrath, however, went wasted as Akoni –late to the fight as ever thanks to his fixation on the boombox- made his move.  Breathless, the demoness reversed her grip on the sheathed Jiaolong to block his punches, channeling her magic through the catalyst all the while.  With every strike, paint appeared on the weapon, some of which stuck to his fists.  Despite landing a few good hits on Gomory, he would soon find himself almost covered in the paint, though he did wait for it to dry before pulling off his strategy.  Caught in her momentary excitement, Gomory did not anticipate a portal forming beneath her feet, and quite abruptly she fell through.  

[color=E0115F]”Bah,”[/color] she muttered, reappearing over the void.  A lesser demon might have fallen into the abyss, but Gomory saw this underhanded move as little more than a setback.  Pink flowerpetals filled the air around her, and bizarrely the demoness hovered in place.  Bringing her knees to her chest, she placed the Jialong beneath them both like a springboard, and focused her magic to create a blob of paint that hardened into a solid mass.  While doing this, she surveyed the situation.  Evidently her moonlight tremor failed to take Snider out of the fight, judging by the [i]foomp[/i] of the grenade launcher.  Unfortunately for him, he had aimed at the motes of dust stirred up by her duel with Wrath—her previous position, and one she no longer even came close to occupying.  She chuckled to see that his lack of foresight meant that his grenade would be exploding right in the midst of Akoni and Wrath, potentially damaging his own allies.  The thought did not occur to her that he may have meant to hurt them as well as her.  For all of his ineptitude, however, Snider had begun to annoy her.  On two occasions now she attacked him specifically, yet he sported nary a scratch.  That would have to [i]change[/i].

She kicked off, using the paint mass as a springboard to launch herself, meteor-like, back toward the platform.  Pink petals formed a cyclone around her as she flew. Now spinning and pivoted so that her feet were in front, she willed the effects of her Cherry Blossom Dance to cease.  By now, the paint splattered across Akoni had almost certainly dried, trapping him in place.  Thusly, when her flying dropkick made contact with him, it contained the full force of her mass.  Unrelenting, she bent her knees halfway through the kick to use him as a springboard as well, flinging herself up into a backflip to land with laudable grace on the central platform once more.  

Not waiting to enjoy the sight of Akoni flying through the air, she turned her attention toward Snider.  Did the simpleton not even bother to avoid the very obviously discolored placed on the ground where her magic lay waiting?  She held two fingers upward, the paint surrounding Snider in every direction went stirred to life, and as one as many as three dozen painted lances shot straight for him.  His misguidedness and neglectfulness caught up with him at last, placing the would-be trapper in a trap himself.  Before the old man could hope to dodge the lances sunk into his skin and clothing.  The eyes of Gomory blazed with moonlight, and she called, [color=E0115F]”You’ve earned your rest, old man.”[/color]  She spread her fingers, and the paint beneath him began to bubble and broil.  All too soon, it erupted into a violent explosion of paint and moonlight, no doubt putting the elder out of the fight for good.

Gomory could feel it; the fight would soon be over.  A fraction of her seriousness almost certainly dealt with two of her opponents.  Now only the Nephilim and the ones called Nero and Mary remained, and in the spirit of finishing the mission swiftly, Gomory felt as if she could get serious after all.  Moving her grip on Jiaolong downward, she took the hilt of the sheathed weapon in her hand.  [color=E0115F]”The time has come to end this game.[/color]  A splash of paint, in colors more brilliant, startling, and chaotic than before, radiated outward from her as she let her inner devil out.  Gomory’s true, monstrous form stood at the ready, garbed in lengths of paint-ruined cloth and wielding the naked Jiaolong blade.  [color=E0115F]”Zài jiàn,”[/color] she bade them, and three doppelgangers of paint appeared beside her, wielding identical blades.  One rushed Wrath, another Mary, the last Akoni, and the original demon walked slowly toward Nero.

[center]-=-=Underground Antechamber=-=-[/center]

Ice crashed over the steel defenses of Gideon, coating them in a glaze of ice that stuck them together and made them sluggish, but nevertheless it served as an adequate defense.  He wheeled to face Ell as she charged, repositioning his blades to arise beneath her.  Never expecting such a move, the woman could do nothing as one spear each raked her hip, ribs, and shoulder, while another stuck in her boot and sank half an inch into the sole of her foot.  She cried out in pain, stumbling, and Israfel tumbled from her grasp.  Instantly Ell seemed to change gears, suddenly ignoring her fresh wounds to the best of her ability.  Gasping, “Mother!” she dove after the mace, landing roughly on her chest but snatching the Angel Arm from where it fell.

Gideon did not receive a chance to exploit her vulnerability, however.  He managed, by moving at frightening speed, to dodge or deflect most of the incoming projectiles, but some of the shot did penetrate even his skilled defenses.  With practiced ease he produced his guns to return fire, simultaneously whipping his blades around to rip through the flesh and bone of Ell’s back, but he never got the chance.  Even a master of multitasking as he could not sustain both an offense and a defense against five assailants.  As such, when his weapons locked on to Ell, he found himself suddenly blindsided by a colossal shoulder-charge from Babyfingers to knock him out of position and disorient his aim.  Roaring, the huge man then stepped over Ell, shielding her with his augmented bulk as he prepared a scatter-blast of ice shards to take Gideon down.

Meanwhile, Bullion and Souta recovered from the spritzer of machinegun fire.  Using his large Devil Arm, Bullion had attempted to block the bullets, and succeeded for the most part.  Some of the demon’s projectiles did damage the weapon, however, and two that got by had embedded themselves in his armor, creating sharp dents that sent a fresh wave of pain into him whenever he attempted to move his right shoulder.  From Souta’s enchanted clothing swirled a miniature riptide of arcane seawater that sped up his dodge, but even still he caught a couple of the bullets in his right arm.  [color=teal]”Augh, God!”[/color] he growled.  [color=teal]“That’s it.”[/color]  Maelstrom fell from his grasp, but before it hit the floor it vanished, and Escre appeared in his left hand.  He ran forward, buoyed up by rushing water, and transitioned into a Squall directed at Gideon.  A resounding crack heralded his sliding thrust attack; Atlas, who despised not being able to help his allies in a fight, had redoubled his efforts on the barrier and they were paying off.

At that moment a Hideous sailed into the room, thrown by a newly-arrived, white-haired woman.  With a yell, Bullion swung his Devil Arm in a mighty overhead chop, cleaving the Hideous’s upper torso in two with the bayonet.  Mistaking her for an Order of the Sword knight, he called, “quit fooling around and attack that demon!”  He pointed with the bloodied bayonet at Gideon, unable to fire for fear of hitting either Souta or Babyfingers.  

[center]-=-=Gilgamesh Branch Office=-=-[/center]

Having clearly not expected Gene to both take the strike meant for Antonio and then attack, particularly with brutal speed and power, Tickler could do little but gape and swear as the marble fist of the Effigy collided with her guts.  [i]“Gyaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!”[/i]  Her scream echoed through the lobby over the sound of pistol fire, and her body slid back a full meter, her shoes squeaking on the floor, before she sank to her knees and collapsed face-first.

Immediately after, the Paladin went to work.  The contracted security personnel, inexperienced as they were against supernatural foes, fell like leaves in autumn.  He met an immovable object, however, in Tybalt.  The southerner’s dual greatshields did not sustain anything more than a scratch from Antonio’s spear, and very nearly did he take a crippling blow for his mistake: had he been a second slower, Antonio could have been crushed by Tybalt as he pounded his shields together.  For all Tybalt’s fortitude, however, the damage had been done.  Two defenders remained where a mere moment ago there stood seven.  Against such deadly adversaries, the situation looked very bad for the last men standing.  Yet Macbeth did not frown.  “Truly?  We are all of us sinners.”

Then, from behind Antonio and Gene, came an awful snarl.  Tickler, presumed to be defeated in a single strike, was getting to her feet.  Across her body a distorting red aura simmered like rage, and her reddened face looked absolutely livid.  “Любительские,” she growled in Russian.  [i]Amateur.[/i]  “Боль почему я борьбе!”  [i]Pain is why I fight.[/i]

She lashed her tentacles, which had grown in size and power as if they were alive.  “Вы готовы к ад?”  Tickler shrieked before she threw herself toward Gene, whirling Morbuzahk with enough force to turn a tree to splinters.  At the same time Macbeth moved forward, dashing low before assaulting Antonio with his cursed swords.

[i]Are you ready for hell?[/i]