[right][h2]Col. [color=purple]Purple[/color], Valk Rooftops - [/h2][/right]
[right][@Kazemitsu][/right]

Purple sighed as she was lifted off of the ground. She was indeed quite small when compared to the tall brute. It seemed that there really was nothing more to this man. An angry brute, down to the core. Why he wanted her rifle she didn't know, but it was probably just some pointless show of strength. Why a person so undisciplined had been allowed to work with this army she didn't know. No matter how strong he was if he couldn't be controlled he was nothing more than a nuisance. "Going around making demands like this. I suppose I didn't expect much more, but I'm still disappointed. With all the tales I had been told, I really did expect more of the oldbloods. But it appears that with age does not come wisdom." Disappointed, she flicked a switch on her belt.

With a flash of light the entire rooftop was suddenly illuminated, before it was consumed by a wall of flames. High-powered incendiary grenades had been prepared around the rooftop, ready to burn up anything and everyone present. Of course, the cutting-edge Scarab Armour would protect Purple from both the heat and the shrapnel, in addition to making her utterly nonflammable. An advantage Tristan sorely lacked. With that much light there was no hope of Tristan teleporting off the roof, not that his range could have brought him out of the explosion to begin with. While harmless to Purple the explosion of flames was enough to instantly incinerate any normal newblood, and even with his impressive durability and regeneration she doubted Tristan would get off easily.

Dropping to the ground in the smoke and sound she instantly rolled to her feet, discarding the rifle as two blades popped out of her wrists. Each was designed to be capable of slicing through combat armour, and would have no trouble removing Tristan's limbs from his body. Augmenting her hearing with her suit's functions she had no trouble locating her prey even when vision was obscured. "Come on. I know that didn't kill you." Shooting forward Purple wove through the debris like a graceful leapord, the dampeners on her feet rendering her steps nearly completely silent. Even a vampire's hearing would not be able to locate her, while Tristan himself was obvious as could be. "If all you respect is power, allow me to teach you some respect." Getting in close and low she sliced away at Tristan, aiming to deal as much damage to his limbs as possible while taking advantage of any disorientation he might be feeling after the explosion. Her movements were fast and precise, her skill apparent in every perfectly timed swing. Even if she wasn't as fast or strong as the other vampire, she had been trained practically since birth in the art of war. Her sheer skill would be hard to match even unwounded.