Darcy Hugh
At this point, Darcy could barely keep himself from screaming. This was too much, he could feel his grip loosening, his body slipping as it shook more and more and more. She was just too fast. He was terrified, terrified of falling, terrified of losing, terrified of dying. He wanted to cry, to yell, to beg her to stop, but all that he could muster was a choked whimper. He'd fall, he'd definetely fall if it didn't stop.
"...please...!"
Garou XIII
Hmph, not much of a talker.
"Help you? No, no, no, you got it all wrong. You're on your own, I'm just passing by."
Garou grinned as more fodder showed up and ran up to the fray, zigzagging like a cheetah. The frightened helloweners were now shooting wildly, but they were untrained; observing their shabby aim, it was far too simple to dodge even a hundred of their guns. It's almost like the bullets were trying to be missed. six men surrounded him, he grabbed one's arm and smashed with with his elbow, rending his gun useless and tossed the man at his right while tossing the other body in his left. Then, he carved his path with powerful palm strikes, sending the surrounding mad killers in a fieldtrip to the ground.
The helloweers cried out in pain, more came and fired, but there was no hesitation. It was as if a demon was possessing his body. While some ran away and distanced themselves as far as possible, it wasn't long before he caught up to them. His fists shot in all directions, as quick as a whip and as hard as steel. The crunching of bone could be heard and the group spread as he kept the multiple opponents at bay.
"M-monster!" some cried out, but they quickly found themselves with a fist lodged in their mouth.
He swiftly elbowed one's throat and lifted himself up with the momentum. Then he launched himself back and delivered a powerful kick to another's jaw, dislocating it cleanly while striking the others behind him with his arm, which weirdly bent out of shape to shoot behind him with inexplicable power. He didn't even seem to mind that stray bullets were hitting him, gashing at his muscles while he avoided the gunfire. And yet it was like he was dancing between them, avoiding not the bullets but the line of fire by dancing in impossible directions.
His arm whipped out, but shifted angle and struck another's plexus with a mighty elbow strike, as quick as a snake, and grabbed another's face before Garou pummeled it down with a mighty kick, smashing the pavement in the process. A few bullets grazed his stomach, chest and face. But instead of backing down he simply charged forward like a monster. Some fired, others tried to strike him and before they knew it, their bones and features were distorted, fractured beyond relief.
"TOO WEAK, TOO WEAK!" He laughed psychotically, savoring the taste of his blood and their blood that littered his body before picking up two rifles and leaping on another group, bludgeoning their faces and limbs gruesomely with the guns and kicking them away without care.
Garou: 2+19=22
Erica: 0+0=0