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Owner Pose
Guzma HAU'OLI CITY POWER PLANT
AFTERNOON

Hau'oli City is the crown jewel of the island it sits on. A large city, it's been harassed by Guzma before, such as when he stole a bus stop. But today is different. Today is actual terrorism.

The Elites called in arrive outside the large power plant building, with those exhaust towers on top, powered by Pokemon who work in harmony with humans. The gates have already been destroyed, and police cars are lined up - but the police have already been fought off. Their attacker is right there.

Guzma, dressed in his jacket and bling, has just put a Pokemon away inside its pokeball, placing the ball on his side. A cop lays on the floor, lightly injured, his orange fire-dog unconscious next to him. "He cheated..." Is all the cop can think about, right now.

As newscaster start to arrive, cameras set up, Guzma points to them. "Yo, Hau'oli weaklings! This is Guzma, boss of Team Skull, and the man you threw away!" There's spite and hatred in his voice. "Me and my partner here are going to change your world! You can't do anything worth talking about, but us...we can make everything better. More efficient! Yo!"

A pose, arm pointed to the sky, as he clicks a device in his pocket. Lo-fi hip-hop begins to play loudly enough to be picked up by the news. A lot of grunts in it.

"The Concord are going to revolutionize this city! Uh! Now, who's brave enough to challenge me?"
Cantio Part of Cantio feels bad for doing this. It's not like she enjoys hurting people for no reason, but there's a very good reason for this. These people need to need help. They need to be open to taking help from wherever they can get it, and only then can things start to change drastically for the better.

"Don't worry. This cheating will be good for everyone in the long run."

It still doesn't make her feel any better about spraying strange animal monsters and their handlers with copious amounts of lasers to halt them in their tracks, but it does lessen the sting a little. Emotionally. Physically, she's doing fine, between said lasers or just bashing the cops around with her (currently unlasered) sword. She's dressed up in her usual white and purple one-piece jacket outfit thing, sleeves rolled up and hair tied in a ponytail to beat the (temperature) heat.

Guzma's fired up as ever, though, and Cantio draws on that energy as best as she can as she raises her sword in triumph. "We'll break it down to build it back up again! People of Hau'Oli, please believe in us!" She shouts, sounding considerably more enthusiastic and hopeful compared to the white-haired trainer beside her.

"We'll make our stand here. No holding back... No shame. We'll change things starting from here! Again." A beat, and then she stage-whispers to Guzma more directly. "I-I mean, again generally, not again 'here'. I don't think I've ever been here, actually... It'd actually be quite nice at any other time, huh?"
James Bond OHMSS
CLASSIFIED
Agent: 007
Mission: Alola CT
Locale: Hau'oli Power Plant

BACKGROUND:
MI6 has confirmed the existence of a terrorist organization operating from within Alolan borders known as Team Skull. The recent seizure and occupation of Po Town are a cause for concern and could negatively impact stability within the region, as well as trade opportunities abroad. This organization should be monitored closely, and dissolved before a larger foothold can be made.

MORNING
The hotel staff don't like it when he smokes. They can charge him extra. Dressed in a breathable polo, nice khaki slacks, and loafers, Bond looks like a teacher or businessman on holiday, a common sight around places like this. He flips through a dossier. Faces, unaware of having been captured on film, stare at points off-camera, little moments of their daily lives frozen in time. Each is paperclipped to a brief summary, printed on paper designed to dissolve in water. His thumb hovers between two pages--his eyes focus on the leader. Guzma. He frowns, reads over it. A few minutes later, the evidence is gone, down the drain of the bathtub.

AFTERNOON
007's attire is completely different, when the news breaks. He doesn't show up directly at the power plant, but instead, on the adjacent block. Having taken back roads, he ends up at an office building dressed like an exterminator, complete with 'equipment' in bulky boxes. A fake ID, a call to HQ. He's able to get a room set aside for his own purposes. For 'fumigation.' The lights inside are turned out. The door is locked and barricaded with a desk. The window is cracked ever so slightly.

    Who's brave enough to chalenge Guzma? "I'll give it a shot," says Bond, listening to the news broadcast on a small, portable radio. He tears off the nametag on his exterminator's jumpsuit, pulling the ball cap down to keep the sun from his eyes. One of those cases is opened, and out comes a collapsible sniper, meant for urban situations very much like this one. The WA2000 is assembled quickly. From his vantage point, Bond attaches the suppressor, lines up a shot, and squeezes the trigger.
Sylvi Off to the side of Guzma's fiery performance, barefoot in a set of track pants and jacket and a team skull medallion wrapped around her wrist, Sylvi leans against a folding chair. She holds a brown glass bottle in her right hand, lifting it slowly to her lips. The purple label reads COLD ONES in white block text and a series of white bubbles, and the contents are a mystery between Adult Beverage and... purple drink.

"Cantio why are you being such a wuss about this. They have fire lizards and exploding dogs and stuff, that's premium pet monster real estate. This place is so padded they don't even fight directly, and send their pets out to take turns. They have ninjas, off in another island, and they basically just send out the same goofy-faced walking weapons but with smoke and poison. If this is all they can raise to defend themselves with, then they deserve to get stepped on a little. Just a little."

She snickers, taking anohter swig. "As a treat."
Eryl Fairfax     Eryl races towards the plant like an anime schoolgirl late to school. And like said schoolgirl, he's eating on the go. But not a piece of toast but instead a loco moco. Alola is Hawaii-adjacent enough to serve the intensely savory dish of a meat patty topped with a fried egg, gravy, all atop a bed of rice. With alarming dexterity, he eats on the move. Not a single drop of runny yolk or brown gravy touches his pristine white button shirt as he arrives outside the police blockade.

    "Guzma. Cantio," he says in greeting, putting the last forkful in his mouth before scrunching up the styrofoam tray and tossing it over his shoulder. It lands in a public trashcan with unerring accuracy. "You're going to improve the plant huh?" he asks conversationally as he bends down to help the officer to his feet before picking up the orange dog and thrusting it into its owner's arms.

    There's a part of him that wants to hear the two out. Attacking the police notwitstanding, if they have an idea that would improve things, he wants to hear it. Shame about Sylvi being here trying to be a bad influence. "There will be no stepping on anyone," he says to the lounging demigoddess. "I'll thank you not to give these two ideas. They're pretty impressionable."
Hibiki Tachibana     A power plant being targeted is almost never a good thing. It also makes Hibiki wonder who could be behind it, given a few other encounters she's had as of late. But wondering never gets anybody anywhere - and when a call to help goes out and she hears it, there's absolutely no way she can stop herself from answering it. The scenic sights of Hau'oli City would be great to enjoy any other time, but right now, the only thing on her mind the moment she sprints out of the resident warpgate is to get on the scene as quickly as possible. Sightseeing can come another time. All things considered though, she always seems to make /really/ good time even when she's on foot.

    "Balwisyall nescell Gungnir tron..." The far-echoing reverb of her transformation chant cuts across the sound of catchy hip-hop flooding the camera mics, giving an advance warning of her approach even before a flash of light resolves into the fast-closing form of the Symphogear-clad girl, her twin-tailed scarf beating behind her. "There she is..." She can see Cantio...along with the white-haired gangster and track suit-wearing, mystery drink(!?)-sipping woman with her.

    Hibiki hops a police car in the way instead of going around it, coming down on metal boots roughly to put herself vaguely between the downed officers and their Pokemon furthest in the front, and the group of Concord Elites. "I'll take you up on that offer," she replies towards Guzma, right before spreading her stance and bringing her fists up at her sides.

    One-liner delivered, Hibiki looks between the three of them, giving Sylvi a half-second longer of a stare, before settling on Cantio. "...I figure I have an idea of what you're trying to do, but asking them to believe in you while you're pulling this isn't going to work." She says it pretty bluntly, but she does mean it.
Sylvi Sheighing dryly into the lip of her drink bottle, Sylvi rocks forward and up off her chair. "I'll appreciate the way you said that, even if I hear what you're saying loud and clear." Sylvi drawls, smirking as her hand closes around the glass bottle as the shape turns a molten orange. "But they're the ones that came here. I'm just helping my team out."

Smushing and working the ball of warmed glass into a semi-molten sphere with sheer palm-force, Sylvi smirks as her eyes open wider, a maniac interest suddenly. "Do you think there are things that *aren't* impressionable to me? That's real interesting. Want to test that theory?"

With a tracing green light from her eyes as she cocks back her fist, the tracksuited woman slings her molten bottle-orb at Eryl. With the step-forward of her throw, her backstep flings up the chair she had been sitting on forward and airborne.

Catching the chair with a swing of her arm, she chases after the orb with the People's Weapon: a viciously swung folding chair.
Guzma Guzma's posing. He has two allies, posing with him. Eryl arrives, as does Hibiki. "My rival!" He shouts to Eryl. "Here to stop me, right? Well, wrong! I'm gonna kick your behind. Let's gooo! YO!"

He poses again, arm in front of his face. He tilts his head down, right as a bullet comes flying forward. It slams through his arm, and normally, this would be a Bad Wound, something that takes that arm out of commission, breaks it, makes it not work well. Hell, the bullet could go straight through and kill him anyways.

The bullet impacts. It hurts like hell. But the golden pendant he's wearing gleams, as the bullet gets lodged inside, a strange sign of abnormal toughness.

Guzma roars in pain, but instead of falling to the ground this time, he takes a breath, and through the blood, can see the bullet. He takes his fingers of his other hand and moves to rip it out, another roar. Bond can start on another shot, but...

Guzma suddenly drops low. "You brought a sniper! I'd call you a dirty cheater - but I'm one too! Vikavolt, Scizor!"

Grabbing a pokeball as he starts to rise back to his feet, he clicks it, returns it to his belt, and grabs another. He clicks that one as well. The pokeballs are returned to his belt as his arm goes to his side.

The first Pokemon to be released is a flying bug with long mandibles. Electricity surges through Vikavolt's mandibles, as it suddenly fires at Bond's position after a gesture from its trainer, a beam of pure electricity. It can't see Bond exactly, but it's figuring from where Guzma gestures that the bullet probably came from. If it can get a hit, he won't be able to use the element of surprise to dodge any others.

The other is a red-colored metal mantis, Scizor suddenly leaping over the police line to start charging across towards the building that Bond most likely attacked from. This is Guzma's cheating.

Two pokemon, at once. And he still has more, if he needs them.
Cantio "W... Wuss?! Even after all this?" Cantio asks Sylvi in bewildered disbelief, somehow looking more wounded than she has in days. "I thought I was becoming cooler after all htis! Or... At least more reliable. Threatening...? Definitely threatening." She confirms while straightening out her white and pink stockings, already balking a bit at the idea of stepping on someone.

"B-besides, they're already down. And if it's a treat... Uh. I don't think I'm anything like Miss... " She trails off, going stock still when she hears a familiar voice and sees that familiarly immaculate movement coming her way. There's an initial reflex to turn and head the other way, to address any responders coming from another direction, but...

'As for you, grow a spine for goodness sake.'

Those words echo in the back of her mind as she stays right where she is, taking a long breath before finally speaking up in response. "Mister Fairfax. Th... That's right. Not just the plant, either." She starts to explain, slowly finding her voice as she fights against the growing anxiety lingering in the back of her mind.

"There's too many people hoarding power they don't even use. Erm... Figuratively, not just literally. And not just because..." She gestures backwards vaguely at the building behind them. "... Power plant." Swallowing once, she looks over towards Hibiki as she arrives, and Cantio actually manages to crack a smile.

"We really should stop meeting like this." Cantio sounds uncharacteristically cheerful as she says that, almost as though she's practiced that line for hours just for this kind of meeting. It becomes obvious that's true seconds later, though, once she can't think up a good followup to that.

"... A-anyway. I'm not expecting the police to believe in us, anyway. They can! But I'd understand if they don't." She's flubbing her lines already, and she knows it. Clearing her throat, Cantio rests her sword against her shoulder as she points her weapon towards Hibiki, firing off a single burning laser from the tip of her weapon to make her intent clear.

"The people here can believe in us, though. It's not going to be easy for them at the start, but nothing is until we hit our stride. Are you going to try and break our stride?"

Anyone with keen eyes might notice Cantio trying to hide a grin. She's actually kind of proud of that last part.
Eryl Fairfax     Eryl flinches also at the sound of the gunshot. "I didn't, believe me," he says to Guzma, before Sylvi claims his attention. He watches, eyes widening as she crushes her drinking glass into a molten orb. Original Face initially mistakes it for some kind of heat manipulation ability, before the tightness of her grip makes it evident. This is purely physical strength, compressing it like the earth would to stone to make it magma.

    That momentary confusion leaves him wide open to the sudden pitch. Taking glass that hot square to the chest can't be good for anyone, the harsh scent of burning flesh filling the air as he goes sliding back. But even through the force should have utterly caved his chest cavity, he's still standing, able to raise his arms for that chair to smash against, instead of his head.

    "Always happy to advance a cause," he hisses back through the pain. She's strong. So strong that Eryl isn't sure if any grabs in his arsenal are safe. Someone that strong cloud probably simply flex or turn or swivel as normal even in the fiercest choke or lock or hold. So this will have to come down to plain brawling.

    Eryl reverses his momentum, having been sent leaning back by the chair's impact. His arms stay up, the classical boxing peekaboo stance to help protect his chest and face. His right fist comes up and down like a wave, a strong downward punch aimed at Sylvi's own face, followed by a tight turning hook from his left fist aimed squarely at Sylvi's liver. A quick one-two to try and reverse the fight's momentum.
Hibiki Tachibana     There's a sniper, who she doesn't know at all, along with Eryl, who seems to have some prior experience with the whole lot of them. She appreciates the both of them, even if there's not much time to openly express it right now. Cantio's friends are really, really strong she's discovered. I mean, do you see Guzma over there? He's right on the offensive even though that looked like it should've been seriously bad, /and/ he has pals. Hibiki's guard comes up further.

    "We really do," Hibiki agrees with Cantio, completely seriously despite the totally awkward nature of it. It's hard to tell if she just didn't pick up on it or is acting the straight man. "But I'm mostly talking about the people watching." She takes a deep breath, shifting her stance and bringing an arm up in front of the warning shot.

    It burns into her Symphogear's gauntlet at the side to avoid damaging the piston within, leaving a sizzling black mark on the white metal. "...Wouldn't it be better to earn their trust by doing something good for them, instead of coming in and burning the bridge from the start? That's why I still can't just stand back and watch--so..." Hibiki lowers her arm back down, and braces her heels against the pavement.

    And then she springs forward! "If I'm enough to break that stride of yours, there's no way that path could be the right one!" With another quip delivered, apparently challenging Cantio's ability to come up with them on the spot, the Symphogear user goes to close the distance between her and the other girl before she can shoot again! Her initial momentum is put into an open palm strike aimed dead center to try to topple her, right before she follows up with a leap a few meters into the air to come down on top of Cantio with a diving kick.
James Bond      The secret agent's brow furrows, as that pendant of Guzma's gleams. That wasn't in the dossier; probably something he got from the Multiverse. Someone far more shadowed and nefarious than Eryl has sent Bond here--but when he is sent somewhere, no matter the motive, he aims to get the job done. Bond doesn't swear, lose his composure or retreat--he instead attempts to change his tactics.

     The rifle is flipped upside down, a button behind the trigger pressed. The magazine release. While its rate of fire is impressive for a gun of its type, the WA2000 holds only six rounds--and Bond's usual preference of hollow point ammunition clearly won't work against Guzma's augmented toughness.

     He empties the magazine and hastily opens one of the cases he'd smuggled in under the guise of 'pest control.' He's in the middle of inserting armor-piercing rounds when Vikavolt's lightning strikes him. His body is briefly ablaze in pain, to the point that he has to struggle not to cry out.

     His fists clench until his knuckles are white--but it's no use. One single, solitary cry escapes the darkened room, briefly illuminated by electricity. It's all that Vikavolt needs to neutralize his element of surprise, and turn it from an ambush into a duel of snipers. That is, until Scizor arrives. The door is barricaded and locked... but somehow, Bond doubts that'll stop the charging metallic creature for long. Jamming the magazine back into the rifle once he's loaded the AP rounds, Bond elects to deal with the ranged threat first.

     Adjusting the bipod on the rifle, Bond doesn't aim for vitals. It isn't his target, and he only needs it out of the way, not dead. Three shots, this time, two for the wings and one for the hind right leg. The AP ammo is a bit overkill for something like that--but with Scizor charging, he doesn't have the time to mitigate potential collateral.
Cantio "Starting with the carrot, hm? That's..." Cantio furrows her brow, not answering rgiht away. She's certainly not dismissing the possibility, even nodding after a few moments. "It's not a bad idea, no. If not for power-holders being so resistant, it'd definitely be easier on everyone."

She takes a moment to mutter to a drone's head as it sticks out from a pixellated space. "... suitable... excess resources..." She shoves the robot back into the ether right afterwards, then settles into a defensive stance after that little mental interruption.

Crap. Hibiki's getting better at combat quippage, too! Cantio's going to have to step up her game, although her first priority is defending herself from physical harm before worrying about trying to sound clever. She flicks her blade upwards to brace it against her shoulder as Hibiki's palm slams into it, sending the vibrations right through Cantio with a grimace and a stagger backwards that nearly throws her off her feet even before that kick comes in. She can't quite evade it, but she does sidestep through the blow as she angles her blade to throw the kick off course just enough that she's not getting kicked right through the chest from the first few seconds of combat.

"Keh... But even if I'm going off thp ath, then I'll just walk through the... Grass?" Nope. Even Cantio knows that one sucked. While her cheeks burn from the utter failure to deliver, she just redoubles her efforts on fighting instead, trying to circle around Hibki with swift and erratic hops from side to side. As she does so, she takes a few quick slashes at Hibiki's legs first before thrusting it towards her shoulder, then drawing it back quickly to keep trying to put a damper on that strange while settling right back into a defensive stance.
Sylvi "Witty and tough both! Counting blessings is one of my favorite things to do." Sylvi cheers as those arms come up into the swing of her chair, the plastic shattering around raised bicep and forearm while the metal deforms. Between Eryl, Sylvi, and the chair, the weak link is certainly the chair.

'Fwang!'-ing off around and behind Eryl, the counterblow comes straight and immediate, cracking Sylvi right across the chin and rotating her neck back with the transferred force, the torque of his shoulder. Her skin feels like sandpaper to push against, and the slab of her jaw *pops* slightly as it half-dislocates.

The blow to Sylvi's lower chest is like punching a street-pole, the demi-titan shuffling back her left foot and driving forward her head through the retreating fist and into Eryl's forehead or shoulder.

The cock of her smirk rendered off-kilter and loose by her swayingly half-unhinged jaw gives Eryl a brief moment of victory, reeling or not, as the smug was literally punched off her face. She reasserts it with her right thumb pressed against the hanging side of her jaw, shoving the displaced part back into alignment with a grunt.

"You're good... You've got inssstincts, fire!" She hisses, spinning around in what begins as a spin kick and what evolves before Eryl's eyes into a fully realized tail slam as a spined lizard-crocodile tail bursts from the back of her tracksuit to crack Fairfax right across the waist.

"The ones that just speak with their fists are my favorite anyway!"
Guzma As the two Pokemon pursue the sniper, Guzma pushes out of the fight, past the police barrier. Gladion is supposed to be inside the plant, securing it, but it's useless without winning the fight to show they're superior to the Elites, too.

Also there's a non-zero chance Gladion sat down to have lunch inside while waiting.

The armor-piercing bullet is tough, but Vikavolt is 'small' and fast compared to most targets Bond fights. Wing shots should be easy, but they're also what it expects the most, so it barrel rolls out of both of them.

And straight into the hind leg shot, which rips through it, causing a skree of pain. It follows up with another burst of lightning, but this one isn't a beam. A web appears instead, made of pure electricity, trying to whip into Bond and stick him to a wall, or otherwise debilitate him.

Right as Scizor finally leaps to the door, pulls its pincer-fist back, and impacts, blasting the door down and several feet forward.

The mantis Pokemon chitters.

And then it slams into the room, but does not go for full offensive. It's trying to pressure Bond back into a corner, both so he can't use the sniper rifle, and so that his agility is hindered as much as possible. It starts throwing light hits, trying to corral him.

Guzma will arrive soon to be able to give further commands, it seems!
Eryl Fairfax     Eryl might have fire, but his face is frozen, placid, and stern. The only subtle twitch comes as he experiences the tactile feedback of driving his fists against Sylvi. Coarse skin, iron abs. With the overwhelming strength, it's clear she's nothing mundane. She's More. Something Else.

    As she fixes her jaw, she aims to drive her head against Eryl. And he does something crazy. Anyone would look at Sylvi and decide that In Her Face is not the place to be. She would dominate any melee contest, and that their best bet is to stay out of reach. But Eryl pushes in. He presses his own forehead against Sylvi's as she's partway through the motion.

    Striking with the body is the act of contracting and relaxing muscles in certain ways. A jab is weaker than a straight because while the jab only uses the muscles in the arm, the straight adds the muscles of the torso through the turning of the waist and shoulders. More muscle movement=more power, this is the basics. By moving in and letting Sylvi's headbutt land before she can reach full speed, Eryl is still taking damage, but mitigating how much power she can put behind it. She can feel metal and bone in his skull shifting from the impact, but it's not the pulverising strike she was hoping for.

    "Oh, I'm very good with my words too," he insists, backing up a little as Sylvi turns, manifesting a whole tail to try and sweep his legs. The blow connects, and Eryl starts pinwheeling, but his hands grab the ground and fingers bury deep, arresting his momentum in a handstand. His body coils like a spring before expanding aggressively, a double-footed kick aimed upward to catch Sylvi under the chin, rocking that jaw again. "But I find that violence is the language most in the Concord are fluent in."
Hibiki Tachibana     "If the people on top won't budge..." Hibiki is cut off not because of physical exertion, but because she actually needs to think about it for a moment. Her kick is sent off, and she lands back down only to spin back up and face down Cantio again - just in time for the other girl to start circling around her rapidly. The chaotic movements clearly throw her off, but her reflexes work their hardest to keep up.

    She's forced to lose ground when her opponent aims low, with some slices narrowly slipping by as Hibiki backpedals, though some others cut into bare skin where Gungnir doesn't protect her. They get small grunts of pain out of her, and unsteady her enough that when the final thrust comes up, she's slower to react than she normally is. The tip of the blade digs in, but the fistfighter kicks herself backwards even as it's still sliding in so that it doesn't stab in too deeply. "Then find a way to make them, /with/ the people you're trying to help!"

    She grunts that out as she steadies herself back on her feet, turning herself so that her uninjured side is facing Cantio more than the opposite. "...That sounds good on paper, but if it was that easy, I guess we wouldn't be fighting." Hibiki takes a breath, then lets it out. Her hands tighten up.

    And she steps back in to meet Cantio's defense, clearly taking care with how Cantio is focused on trying to dismantle her ability to keep up. A series of jabs and hooks are sent flying towards her face and upper body, along with a quick leap into the air followed by a whirling spin-kick. It's not as much of a commitment as her previous airborne attack, and she lands fast - attempting to open a hole in her guard to push back in immediately after, and grapple Cantio by her sword arm, snapkick low, and completely flip her over! Feet off the ground, a full spin right on the spot, before bringing her down hard. "This complicated stuff really isn't my strong suit!"
James Bond      Bond is wrapped in electrified webbing. Scizor's claw smashes through the barricade with ease, revealing the sniper's nest. The secret agent has several cases--one for the rifle, one for ammunition, one possibly containing tools of the trade.

     When he looks at Scizor, it's with an expression utterly absent any fear. This isn't to say that Bond doesn't know the trouble he's in--only that his response, compared to a normal human being's, is badly warped.

     Even flinching from the electricity, there is a coldness to him, a calculating quality to his eyes. His opponent has been sized up, analyzed within seconds. It's a fight he'd have to give his full attention to, one-on-one. With an enemy sniper assisting... there's no way.

     He deliberately provokes an attack, making a false start towards Scizor in order to bait it, teeth gritted as the current continues to flow through his body.

     Those claws are sharp enough to cut through the webbing and him alike. This is his plan. He deliberately places his center of mass in harm's way, grimacing and grunting in pain as that attack of opportunity is provoked.

     Even bloodied by the pokemon's razor sharp claws, his jumpsuit torn from hip to shoulder, his dogged determination doesn't falter.

     Bond's foot catches one of those heavy cases just as Scizor's claw frees him from the sticky electrified strands. It's launched through the air with strength in excess of what a human being should be able to muster, hurtling at alarming speed towards Scizor. It's a distraction.

     The butt of the rifle is next, aimed at the side of its head and tossed aside immediately after it no doubt shatters against the bug type. This, too, is a distraction. A means to buy time. Vikavolt can see the whole thing, as well as what shatters next. Glass.

     Bond has leapt out the window, his finger tapping a button on his wristwatch. A block away, a V8 engine roars to life. A driverless black Aston Martin Volante approaches. Pintle-mounted automated machine guns sprout from above the car's headlights, targeting the flying bug type as Bond descends, amidst a shower of bloodied broken glass, to the open-air drivers' seat of the convertible.
Cantio "Making them budge... Getting people's support beforehand would be ideal, but I wish it was that easy." Cantio speaks up again, actually sounding somewhat bitter while holding that blade it shoulder level again, her defensive stance holding firm as she faces Hibiki. "People get comfortable too easy. Even if their entire world sucks, they won't do anything to change it because they believe that it's pointless. That there's nothing people like them can do because they're too weak, too poor, too simple-minded."

Hibiki comes in with that flurry of blows, and Cantio meets each strike head on. Best case scenario, she would be doing that figuratively, but Hibiki's speed and offense is a bit too much for her to handle, and Cantio ends up doing so literally as she gets kicked right in the face. She stumbles back and nearly topples over, but rights herself just in time for Hibiki to grab her by the arm, knock her off her feet, and fling her right onto the ground. A pained gasp escapes Cantio as she tries to process what just happened, and it's not long before a pillar of light erupts around her, signaling a shift to Cantio's powered up state.

"And they're right. Normal people really aren't able to do that kind of thing. That's why Elites like us exist." The light fades, and she's once again in her transformed state, descending from the sky in all her plasticy armored glory despite being on the floor moments earlier. "We're the ones that have to inspire them. We're the ones that have to make those in power budge so that everyone below them pours their faith into those who can do what they can't."

She sounds and looks fired up, and not just because she didn't actually rehearse that one. She's still sporting a sizable bruise on her face and a bloody lip from getting kicked right in the face, but it doesn't make her any less coherent! Cantio settles down on the ground again, then charges right at Hibiki once again, sword swinging diagonally upwards from the ground at first before flicking back downwards in quick succession to try and catch the fist-fighter off guard before she thrusts it right at the warrior's foot to really try and throw her off-balance, capped off by a shoulder-check that's a pale imitation (but an imitation nonetheless) that Hibiki had used against Cantio once before!

As a shoulder-check, though, Cantio's is nowhere near packing the right amount of power or force behind it. The wing-like extensions on her back are quite solid and sharp, though, enough to act like weirdly placed swords of their own.
Guzma Guzma has made it towards the building, but isn't up to it yet. Scizor inadvertantly tears Bond free from his webbing, Bond smashing things into the mantis that distract it long enough for the man to flee back to his car, pop open the machineguns, and fire at Vikavolt.

Vikavolt is torn into by bullets, forcing it to skitter through the window to hunker down for a seocnd. It begins charging up, as Guzma arrives, taking cover, and shouts out.

"You've made a mistake, sniper! My monsters are the toughest. Scizor's made of metal, you really think you can tear it apart with those? Think again! Scizor! SD into BP! Vikavolt! Blast him!"

The call-outs form a strategy. Scizor starts charging, as swords of energy form around it, crossing blades as the bug starts charging up. It leaps out the window, as Vikavolt fires straight for the engine of the car, trying to cause it enough problems to make the guns have a momentary seize, if that even works.

Scizor moves to land straight on top of the convertible. It chitters once more, even as bullets have pelted its mass accidentally in the leap and torn holes into it.

A pincer is brought back...

And goes forth, straight for Bond's shoulder, hard enough to dislocate or break should it impact properly. They're hoping to force an immediate retreat. Guzma's not intending to kill him.

No, he wants to send a message. To Bond, to his employers, and to the media.
Sylvi "I know!" Sylvi leers forehead to forehead with Eryl, laughing, her vertical-slit yellow-green eyes maddened and intense. "It's great."

Smiling ear to ear, a dribble of sizzling rainbow-slick blood rolls down her brow and runs down her nose, dripping onto Eryl's face where it pops and fizzes. "It's important to share something to have common ground. You see me with those eyes and you're learning from me. I really am leaving an impression. But you're resssilient."

Eryl bids for distance and pinwheels over her crashing tail, transferring the force back into her jaw, cracking her jaw...

Back out of alignment, a shark tooth flying loose from her lips as she expels a curse-filled sussurating hiss. "You keep--"

Sylvi reaches her hand, suddenly scaled and sharp-clawed, down and into the body driving two heels into her chin and heaving down with a hammer-blowing forward swing.

"--hitting my jaw! It ain't glassss!" She rattles, a sharp and annoyed husk to the back of her tones. "Power is what's required for anything. I've got a powerful tongue too, but it'sss fun to throw handsss instead!"
Eryl Fairfax     Knocking a tooth loose is a good sign. As strong as she is, she's not utterly unstoppable. She can be worked, damage can be done. But here, Eryl has made a miscalculation. It was his game plan to mitigate damage by leaning in to prevent her full swings from coming out. This is very hard to do from a handstand.

    The demigoddess' claws slam into him, driving him into the road and drawing a lot of blood. He grunts in real pain, laying there and looking up at her. His stern look has cracked, a grimace bleeding through. "You certainly are leaving an impression," he coughs. "I've never been attacked with molten glass before, that's for certain." His hands free themselves from the ground, index fingers pointing up before slugs come flying out, straight at Sylvi's maddened eyes. Aiming to take advantage of the natural response to flinch away from something small and fast flying for your eyes, Eryl kips up and shows Sylvi his back for a moment.

    Just as he had aimed to restrict the movement of the hissing woman, so too does he now aim to maximise his own moment. He turns, from the heel on up, every part of his body rotating to turn about and face her once more. "Power is nothing if you're as mindless as that. I would have heard out Guzma and Cantio. Between you and the shooter, that's all moot now."

    He turns, and with the full force of that turn, slams his elbow into Sylvi's jaw. Yes, he again works it, exploiting the injury to inflict maximum pain. And in that instant, she hears something humming inside his arm before a shotgun slug leaps from his elbow to strike it again.
Hibiki Tachibana     Her foe goes down, but not for long; Hibiki moves back a pace when the pillar of radiance erupts, furrowing her brow as she follows the now-also-transformed Cantio descends back down with a focused stare. Just like before, she sharply registers the shift between the 'awkward and definitely trying too hard' Cantio with how she is now. The Gungnir girl has only a moment to brace herself before the fight is back on.

    A lean of her body lets the initial slash miss, but the follow-up elicits a brief gasp of surprise. She's forced to turn further with the motion and bring her arm up, with a loud crash of metal when the blade leaves a groove several inches deep into the plating of her Symphogear. The immediate follow-up forces her to shift back very hastily, leaving her wide open to a very familiar move. "Ngh--!" The shoulder bash comes in, and imitation or not, the danger of wings-turned-weapon is very real. Hibiki crosses her arms up.

    The tip of the extension slams into her gauntlets in a shower of sparks, and the totally off-kilter Hibiki is thrown back from the combined force of that and the actual smack of Cantio's body into hers. "I know...there are things normal people can't do themselves...!" She ends up several meters back, landing roughly enough on her feet that she almost topples over herself, but she rebounds and regains something resembling a stance.

    "The power that people like us have...it's on us to use it for the right reasons. To change things for the better." It sounds like she might be agreeing with Cantio, but there's a brief shadow over her expression--where she recalls a recent mention of 'fighting for the status quo'. "Inspiring people...I don't know the first thing about it. And I'm not cut out for it. But I think you're different, Cantio." She trails off, tensing her body up.

    Then she pushes herself forward to re-close the distance, the piston on her right hand gauntlet sliding back as she goes. Hibiki seems like she's going to go for a straight line punch, but before she does--she stops and bunkers over, slamming her fist straight down into the ground as the piston slams back in with a crack! She's not going for the same trick as before though - it 'only', quotation marks, causes a normal explosion of concrete and debris, albeit still one that emits a shockwave hard enough that it threatens to uproot Cantio from the cratered earth and send her airborne. "That's why I /want/ to see you do it! Even if it's not easy, I'm sure you can!" Shouting that out, Hibiki immediately moves to follow up on her attempted setup--by using her lowered position to put extra strength into a full force launch straight towards the other girl, aligning herself to kick her head-on in the midriff as hard as she can.
Sylvi "Never? I'm your first?" Sylvi wonders as she cruelly shoves Eryl into the ground beneath. "Then I've left an impression. You'll cherish it forever. That first time someone threw molten glass in your face."

The fan of muzzle-fingers swinging up is immediately distracting with her hand committed to the shove. Turning away, the spray of bullets does exactly what Eryl would expect, though not to the extent he may have expected it to go - a duck down and a break into her shoulder as the bullets munitions and p-tang off of the side of her skull and send liquid ripples through her hair.

"I didn't explain the whole thing, duh, we're *fighting*! I get to leave an impression on you, Grandmaster, because between you and that wizard, I like your style better!" Sylvi snorts, rising back up in challenge and swiping metal detritus from her face like dust.

He gets his whole back rotation though, as Sylvi enters an interested idle cycle, her shoulders slackening and her fist being pumped into her fist a few times as she just stares her ophidian greens at Eryl.

"It's all moot now?" Is all she gets to ask, interested and expectant, as Eryl goes from JoJos-pose backstance to a spinning elbow right into her jaw. The calculations are perfect. He must have her measure as she half-backsteps for stability, her tail dragging along the ground to absorb shock, and--- A shotgun blast point-blank repeats the elbows motion into an el-blow, but the sound is wholly different. A dull earthen thud.

Veins of stone drawn up from the floor beneath shod her feet in stony encasements that leech up her body, drawing the obdurate strength of the ground beneath her to reinforce the jaw that Eryl had relentlessly worked.

"I like the way your fists talk, Grandmaster. Direct. To the point. Calculated, and snappy. They've got bite that I didn't think you had in you, with your man-of-peace attitude."

Sylvi has no problem with the weight of 'her own' feet, sliding into the first real stance she had taken all fight and spacing Eryl with her left palm, before her shoulder drops and she sling-pivots her entire upper body into seismic uppercut right to Eryl's jaw -- or the chest beneath.

Underneath, the ground erupts with the blow, a geyser of stone and destruction.
James Bond      The very moment he hits the seat, Bond's foot is on the accelerator. The onboard computer--an after-market feature for this '87 model for sure--chimes in with a woman's voice, in an inoffensive, neutrally English accent.

Please fasten seatbelt.

Severe blood loss detected. Seek medical attention.

     "Later," Bond chides, as he flips open a panel just behind the gear lever. Smashing a red button, panels open at the back of the car. A cloud of magnetized metal shavings, dense enough to cut with a knife, erupts from those panels. They're meant to throw off heat-seeking missiles, but they work quite well against blasts of electricity.

     It's just buying time. With two superpowered animals on him, his his options for completing this operation today are scrubbed. At this point, it's about escape. About making sure there's a next time. He's been in this spot before. He's comfortable in this spot.

     Even if it is decidedly physically uncomfortable when Scizor's claw smashes into his shoulder. Bond grits his teeth, slamming on the brakes and pulling the car into a violent U-turn to throw Scizor off. There's a way to get loose, here. His mind briefly flashes back to that dossier he'd reviewed in the morning. Someone else is here, from Team Skull--a protege of sorts. Gladion.

     Bond throws the car into reverse, willfully driving over Scizor if the pokemon won't move. With his good arm, he forcefully smashes his dislocated shoulder back into its socket with an agonized growl, his nostrils flaring as buildings, fights between Eryl and Sylvi, Hibiki and Cantio rush past him in reverse.

     Another u-turn, the car smashing through the police barricade as Bond evades the geyser from Sylvi's blow to Eryl, rubble raining down all around. The engine roars as he guns it past Hibiki's back just as her fist smashes into the ground, Bond likewise smashing the car's horn. Weaving in and out of harm's way to throw off Vikavolt and Scizor, his goal is the power plant. The Aston, dented and smashed in places from its collisions with Scizor, windshield completely broken on the driver's side, crashes through the main gate in a hail of sparks.

     The moment he sees Gladion, Bond pulls the car into a targeted tailswipe, attempting to knock Guzma's collaborator onto his back--whereupon he'll depart the car a bloody mess, PPK in hand, to secure a hostage. He's comfortable, in spots like these. There is no shred of sympathy or remorse on his face, in this moment--only the Mission, which, in this moment, is now purely exfiltration.

     "Have him call them off." There's no pithy pun here. Just pure, chilling animal survival instinct.
Cantio Cantio winces slightly as she feels the extensions digging into her back from the impact of gauntlets against wings, still reeling from the mounting damage. Cracking her shoulders once, this transformed Cantio certainly seems to have some more confidence than before, although there's still that underlying something that continues to permeate through everything she says and does.

It's like she's better at acting confident right now without actually ridding herself of that underlying anxiety.

"Don't sell yourself short, Hibiki. Someone strong enough can inspire people even if they can't speak well, and people that can speak with authority can make up for not having physical power. And then..."

She turns her gaze towards Eryl and Sylvi as they face off with their unyielding defense and unrelenting offense, towards Guzma and Bond with their unspoken bonds and uncanny improvisation. "... There's people with both. We'll get there one day."

She probably means 'not today'. Turning back to Hibiki, Cantio remains on the ground as she angles her blade in front of herself once more, taking that defensive stance with no apparent intent to escape or run. She braces for impact and prepares to try deflecting that blow as that fist comes in, already flinging herself upwards in anticipation of that explosion from the ground she had seen once before. The debris smacks Cantio a few times, but it's the followup that catches her off guard.

At most, Cantio was expecting a punch. Instead, she gets a full force kick to the gut that has her going wide-eyed and spitting out breathlessly, the impact launching her into the air high enough that a fall from that height would be incredibly dangerous! Thankfully, Cantio's ability to fly is remembered soon enough that she catches herself, descending in rapid circles rather than letting herself crash right back into the ground.

"You keep coming up with new moves... It's really keeping me on my toes! Maybe that's why I've been able to improve so much lately." Cantio manages a chuckle, turning away briefly to hide a gag and nearly cough her guts out before turning back around. "You, Guzma, BB, Mister Fairfax, the Concord, everyone back home...!"

She dives back down at Hibiki, relying entirely on gravity and her own speed instead of fancy maneuvers as she brings that blade down, aiming to carve right into Hibiki's armor again and again with a flurry of rigid slashes to try and overwhelm her with pure speed and the laser-amplified blade.
Guzma Scizor is thrown off from the car, and then sent flying back from being driven over, which probably also damages the front-end of the car if it isn't reinforced. As Guzma realizes where he's going, he starts heading up towards just in time to see it happen.

Gladion, still a teenager, knocked to the ground with a PPK holding him hostage. Guzma grimaces. He could have Vikavolt send a lightning bolt to Bond's head, but Bond's reflexes are fast. They'd both die.

Guzma doesn't kill, and he doesn't let his family get hurt.

Grabbing the pokeballs with his good hand, he returns Vikavolt and Scizor to their containment as Gladion gestures to him, Guzma speaking up. "Let him go. I won't stop you from leaving." His words are honest - but in this line of work, anyone's words could sound honest to Bond. The action is probably all that mattered.
Eryl Fairfax     The elbow gets good feedback. But the sound of the slug is wrong. There's not the crunch of bone, the wet slap of skin. It thuds as if it had struck rock. The very land beneath them rises up to clad her, bracing the damage he had done. That look, laced with pain, is now filled with shock, the eyes widening. "The earth... now I see."

    He stumbles back from her palm, giving her the clearance she needs to launch that vicious uppercut. Eryl's bones creak as she aggrieves both his cracked rips and gored front, a gasp erupting from his throat as he is launched upwards. Blood flies as he arcs before coming down, his body limp. Is he done?

    His feet touch ground first, and one slids back to balance him. He's slumping, but he pushes himself back up into that stance. His mouth is hidden, but blood is clearly pooling out of it and dripping to the floor. "Yes, moot," he coughs. "Certainly you have made an impression. But a first impression is not a conversation, not a discussion, not an agreement. If those two had such a brilliant idea, I could have supported them, or assisted the, should it prove less so. But now it's broken down. Just another fight."

    The lower legs of his pants blow apart as micromissiles come flying out, swerving in the air to converge on Sylvi, exploding in rapid sequence around her. Trying to sever her connection to the land as dust and smoke is kicked up, obscuring her vision of him.

    And then something cuts through like a knife.

    Something big and weighty, tipped with heavy, piercing alloys drives into her gut, the force of its flight parting the cloud. Eryl has raised a leg and pointed his knee at her, and something has launched from it. A massive, heavy round, propelled with a stronger electromagnetic field than those earlier shots.

    And then it too explodes.
Sylvi Bleeding. Sylvi can hear it -- smell it -- taste it on the air, but she makes no mention of it. Sylvi isn't holding back, and isn't an impervious threat certainly - evidenced by her repeatedly displaced jaw and fallen tooth, the dry rainbow-slick of her blood like spilled oil on asphalt dribbling down her neck as the veins of concrete trace up.

The fight itself is what is being treated lightly.

"I was here because I wanted to support my allies. Sssupporting your family is important." Sylvi hisses through the smoke, easily visible even in the dust and debris by her eyes, the way she occupied space.

"It's not just another fight. You keep talking *at* me, instead of listening."

To dodge the missiles, she has to leap or flow back -- but she doesn't. Munitions explode up and down her legs, showers of the ground splitting off and haloing her in a new smoke cloud. Instead of movement, she doubles down on immovability and tenses into the attack, sweeping her hands through to see--

A knee. A barrel. A shot.

Sylvi, finally, swings cross her arms and the ground pools like liquid and domes into her, vortexing around the point of impact.

Her palm, and the shot. It spins, crackling-hot and kinetic, against the immovable center of Sylvi leaning forward. His sensors can see it -- there is no difference between Sylvi, the concrete around her, and the earth beneath. He is shooting into the ground. The leverage isn't there.

With a grinding and drawn out clash, the round finally spins down white-hot against Sylvi's palm, which she drops. As she does, the concrete falls to dry powder around her torn track-pants and the wreckage of her athletic jacket, a black tank top beneath. The impression of a larger 'something' falls off her shoulders like a shed skin, and the ground returns to an unmarred normal as the shaping is dismissed like a loosening muscle.

"The First would probably be mad if I caused an incident on purpose, so I think I'll stop there."

She lowers both hands into the pockets of her track pants and shrugs. "You're roughed up now, so you can't just use that power of yours to dictate terms. Go ahead and ask -- I'll call this a draw, so we can both say we *totally* would have won."

She winks. "I think that'sss plenty generous of me. If you want to help them out, I'll get out of your way: but if you want round two, you know how to get it."

Sylvi looks around. "Hey where'd that lunatic who jumped through my uppercut go?"
James Bond      Bond steps back from Gladion, eyes watching Guzma coldly. "I'm going to get my things. Then I'm gone."

     The pistol is still in his hands, but it's held barrel-up. He won't shoot, unless he's given cause to--and he's studying Guzma for just such a cause as he carefully strides around the downed teenager. That black Aston does indeed bear two Scizor-shaped dents. It's reinforced, but there's only so much that can do against masses of living metal.

     The door opens of its own accord, and he climbs in, after sweeping aside a mess of bloodied broken glass shards, mixed in with smaller crystalline fragments from the car's windshield. The leather seat is ruined, both from his injuries and from his manner of entrance.

     As the roof of the convertible encloses the cabin, that automated voice chimes in again.

Please fasten seatbelt.

Severe blood loss detected. Seek medical attention.

    "If you insist." The Aston pulls out much more calmly than it entered the lot. The glove compartment slides open to reveal a hidden function--a first aid kit, or something like one. As the car pulls out towards the building he'd taken up a spot in, an experimental liquid bandage is applied to the worst of his wounds, the gash along his abdomen that he'd baited Scizor into making.

     The cap is pulled over his eyes as he enters the lobby of the office building, just as before. Stunned whispers and called utterances of concern bounce off of him, until he's forced to acknowledge a would-be good Samaritan on his way out, equipment in hand, shattered rifle discreetly disposed.

     "It's alright," says Bond, downplaying the worrisome, freshly bandaged gash and the bloodied jumpsuit. "Not everyone makes the Cut."

     True to his word, he packs everyhing back into the Aston and disappears from Hau'oli via the Warpgate.
Eryl Fairfax     The destructive potential of the combo of Unmoving Tongue and Golden Wind is great. So great that Eryl doesn't like to use it. But Sylvi is clearly just Built Different. But unfortunately, he underestimated how Different. To soak the missiles, and just catch the anti-material round. What exactly is she?

    "I'm listening just fine," he coughs. "I just disagree. Fights are not communication, they are a failure of communication. When I say violence is a language, it is sardonically." He looks as if he has more to say, but the blood is starting to choke his words. But one thing does come out clear, a harsh refute of her comment about 'totally winning.'

    "I don't care about that. Of course you could probably fold me like a piece of paper. You and a lot of people. That I can fight is an unfortunate necessity. Nothing I take pride in." She is right though, it is generous of her. He absolutely can't continue. He might have worked her jaw, but he is having trouble standing. Without his implants suppressing his oesophagus, he would have thrown up that loco moco after that uppercut.

    Without another word, he pulls himself up as straight as he can and departs to seek medical attention.
Hibiki Tachibana     "And you keep getting harder and harder to fight...!" Hibiki calls back as she flips back onto her feet with a heated exhale, eyes back on Cantio as comes back down. Gag or no, she really is impressed how much she actually is improving for every time they've gone against each other...even to the point that the weaknesses in her style are starting to be exploited. Throwing around explosive power takes its own toll.

    She doesn't entirely pick up on the sound of the Aston Martin's roaring engine and the crashing gate in all the commotion, with her focus entirely on Cantio--she'd probably have some fierce words to say and fists to throw if she was attentive to her surroundings, but at the moment, she's laser intent on the girl launching back down towards her.

    And in the next second, she's stuck in a clash of blade and armor. An arm comes up to knock aside one strike with thick plating, only for the next to come and force her to rush her reaction almost too late--Hibiki holds her ground at first, but as the assault mounts and sections of Symphogear are shorn into or cut apart, she starts being forced backwards with each blow. "One day...you think so?" Her words are interlaced with grunts and hisses through clenched teeth.

    Cantio's rapid and continuous attack starts getting the best of her; exhaustion and the focused blows she's taken make it harder to move her body the way she wants, and her defensive motions get noticeably less effective. When select parts of the Symphogear are damaged enough, they reveal advanced circuitry and sparks of electricity that sputter out, sensitive parts that will definitely offer no protection to any follow-up attacks. She won't be able to take a finishing strike. "I don't think I'm selling myself short...not any more than you are. I'm probably not as confident as you think I am, either. But one day...then until that day...!"

    Much like when she recklessly moved into Cantio's attack in another of their encounters, Hibiki makes the decision to attack instead of defend. Stomping her heels into the pavement, she halts her retreat and instead pushes forward into the next swing, punching on her injured side towards the next slash...at an angle. Not to clash with it head on, but to drive her remaining armor /into/ the slice as hard as she can. It'll be enough to completely ruin the use of her piston for the rest of the fight, but also mean it'll probably take Cantio a moment to yank it back out compared to all of her previous attacks.

    Which Hibiki intends to capitalize on, as her other gauntlet shifts and changes rapidly, expanding back down the length of her arm past her elbow as the piston shifts into an exposed turbine. It kicks up into a blindingly fast spin, igniting rocket thrusters on the back of it as a knuckleguard slides down in front of her clenched fist.

    "We'll both just have to keep getting better until we find the right way!" Hibiki throws her arm forward with a roar. Point-blank and straight towards the same spot on her stomach that her previous kick landed, with the additional thrust making it less like a punch and more like a hammer that's suddenly going to smack into her gut.
Sylvi Eryl's reaction draws a guffaw from Sylvi, a nasal snort followed by snickering chortles. "Yeah. But, I'm being a little selfish right now." Sylvi teases darkly, lifting a hand from her pocket to waggle a finger at the retreating Eryl. "You now know more about me than I could possibly explain with words, truths about me that you feel in the bones, the blood, the sense of balance. You've felt my gravity, my pressure, and could explain it to others with that smart mind. All that in seconds. And you -- incredible!"

Her waggling finger becomes an upraised splay-fingered palm, as Eryl walks off. "My favorite thing you've said is the truth, Eryl Fairfax. I could fold you like tissue. *I* could. Me. That's the bar. I tested you, and that resistance..."

Her outstretched hand becomes a fist, which she brings to her lips to kiss, the loud 'smek' an exclamation point on her feeling. "I want to test you more, Grandmaster. Can you grow stronger? Is it enough for you to have a smart mind?"

He's gone.

Sylvl slackens back, her back reversed-arched as she laughs, madly, at the simple absence of the man she had just before been fighting.

It goes on for a moment longer before she rightens and wipes under her nose with a snort and looks at the Hau'oli surrounds.

Hibiki thrust hammerblows Cantio to to the moon, or approximate to it.

"Yikes. Guess the whole thing's a wash."
Cantio Was that a car? Were those missiles? When did the Scizor get over there? These and many other questions whiz right through Cantio's mind as she struggles to process everything that's going on in the middle of facing off against Hibiki. She does feel a swell of pride as she's acknowledged by the fist-fighter, though, even as she also feels a hitch in her throat at the sound of so many crashes and explosions surrounding them.

"If you're not, then... Then you might have a career in acting some day! Because... Uh. Right?" Cantio manages to get out, sounding a smidge dazed compared to before. Despite those mounting injuries, however, she still makes a mental note to check on Guzma and Sylvi if she's conscious after this. It's a big if, though, as she finds Hibiki pressing the offensive instead of opting for a more balanced approach.

Cantio continues swinging as best she can, but her sword gets caught in that armor as expected, and there's little room to maneuver as Hibiki busts out another unexpected maneuver. Releasing the sword entirely, she brings her arms down into position to block that massive punch straight into her midsection, even getting as far as catching that punch!

Not that it really does much, though, as the impact just goes right through her arms and into her gut anyway, knocking the Candidate backwards and through a pair of police cars, tumbling several times head over ass before finally rolling to a stop atop a third. She lets out a hoarse, pained noise as she focuses on being able to breathe again, but somehow doesn't look particularly surprised about this outcome.

"Th... That's right. Looks like... Even if it doesn't work the first time, sooner or later..."

She's still kind of incoherent all around. Still, she's confident enough that the message has been sent, and there's little left for her to do but get her bearings together before the local police's reinforcements arrive to make things worse. At least she didn't lose any teeth this time!