[b][center][hr][hr]
[h1][color=09849f]Kwassi Asokho[/color][/h1]
[img]https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/363556781537886208/730211580951920750/YsQSj9E_d.webp[/img] 
[hr][hr]
[color=09849f]Location:[/color] Agent 13s apartment.
[color=09849f]Skills:[/color] Mixed Martial Arts, Anatomy, Bo Staff
[hr][/center][/b]

Chaos seemed to be ensuing all around him. Most of the Agents were shot, 13 was now on the offensive and attacking Flynn (rightfully so), and then there was a knock on the door. This was the worst time for some Uber Eats kid to be here, and if it was a noise complaint from the neighbors about Flynns yelling or the gunshots, then they were sure to have to deal with it. Before Kwassi could tell them to wait one second the door came flying off the hinges and into the apartment. It didn't seem to hit anyone but he could feel a strong breeze behind him now, seeing some grotesque man asking for sugar in the reflection of his staff. [Color=09849f]"This may be a bad time for a cup my friend. Perhaps try the next apartment over."[/color] His wakandan accent was thick as he spoke, wincing from the wound as his head tried to analyze and make sense of all the new variables. But before he could, his legs began to move on their own.

Agent Moss was being peppered with blasts by Flynn. He wasn't sure if the wounds were getting to him but it looked like he fired a missile. Successfully stopping him from being able to attack the air manipulator at the door. Clearly the must be aligned, perhaps some rogue planateers with a twisted view on justice. Either way they needed to be stopped quickly. Ever minute lost here was one that Captain America gained. Kwassi tensed his stomach, bracing for the pain as he ran forward and made a large arching swoop behind Flynns legs. The turncoat agent jumped over his swing as Kwassi used the momentum to keep going and do a full spin up and then cracking it down near Flynns neck. The mutant managed to grab the strike and then a blast was felt. His staff had been blown in half before he got the chance to demagnefy it. Luckily only one escrima stick was damaged this way and that meant he'd only have to fix the other. Kwassi cursed the pain for making him slow as he slid his hand into his pocket and grabbed one of his electric brass knuckles for his right hand.