Had Oscuro not frozen, had Miss Murder capitalised on the sudden crippling of the solidiers that advanced on them, perhaps the flow of the fight would have entirely reversed in that brief moment... But as it was, the strikeback was disjointed and fragmented. Although the dancer was caught off guard- Through The Barriacde rushing first to defend Reaper's stand user from Taras' bullets, and then swirling backwards in a flurry of fabric to try and defend her, it was a fraction of a second too slow, The splinters of brick slashing her face superficially, but painfully. Growling, a single droplet of blood staining her previously pristine dress, she would roar her displeasure... And an order.

"ENOUGH MESSSING AROUND TILL. BUTCHER THEM."

[color=ed1c24]"YOU'LL HAVE TO SETTLE FOR ME."[/color] Reaper's response was gutteral and barely understandable- its frothing rage having clearly reached its peak. As Chloe stumbled backwards and onto her rear, the stand would slam both of its arms downwards like an ape, those same 'precuts' marking the passing of his fists. When Ritz' legs slammed into Reaper's legs they would find themselves slamming into a brick wall, the only responde to be a slight buckling from the emaciated figure's knees. Ducking to one side, it would avoid the thrown bottle, merely letting out an incoherent scream in response to her insult.

As it contiued its stalk foward, one of Reapers's arms would lance out; grabbing a glass from the table and hurling it and its contents at the nervous-faced dancer. Any of the stray droplets that made contact with the woman or her stand would rip their way through her flesh, as lethal as any knife, parting skin and cloth as the rivulets ran down.

Meanwhile, Oscuro now found Miss Murder pressed upon by two seperate, albeit slowed, German stands. Their wooden arms swung towards her, slow, but it didn't take a genius to realise that those chunky fists would leave a terrible impact on her stand if they landed. Taras, meanwhile, found himself bearing the attention of the dancer, who would load her luger and return fire on him, her stand running forward, backflipping over a table as it did so.