https://youtu.be/zxwhKPJ4cUs - An Agent's FightBefore you do anything else, you twist your body in a forced and janky motion. The stance is far easier for someone with more flexibility. Red-hot pain rushes down your back, the coat dampens and repairs it as quickly as it cans. But you still feel it.
You feel looser, less tense, after you fully enter the stance. You adjust your position to accommodate the stance and to lessen the throbbing pain. Presley simply scoffs. "Alright then? Your funeral." He charges to close in the gap, pulling out AFYN and swinging it down upon you.
You quickly stomp on his foot while he does so. He nearly gets sent to the floor and in this moment, a quick string of jabs and claws are thrown at his head and torso. He is barely able to hold onto AFYN as he's sent falling to the floor.
"Huh, good thing we're getting a new cleaner soon. Pickup on aisle 5." You quickly reposition when you notice Presley getting back up. You notice O2 quickly rushing over, with W following behind. The others try to suppress laughs or giggles.
"That all ya got? TASTE THIS!" You adjust your twisted posture as a response to him swinging AFYN right at your head. It catches your shoulder instead. You bite down on your tongue to suppress a yell. That's going to be the only strike he's getting.
A quick series of weak yet constant punches from your left arm allows you to get some more distance. Your hand throbs from punching what's essentially thin but regular metal but you power through it regardless.
Presley spins the bolt action pistol around before swinging it at your fist. You take this chance to use your right fist to blindside him with a sudden and power slam to the back of the head. You're not too worried about hurting him.
[BOUND BY DUTY] They didn't want you to stop when you heard "ow". You know when to stop.
"AUGH!" You can't tell if that's pain or shock. He stumbles backward regardless from the force. Your assault of fists and stomping on his feet keeps him constantly disoriented and unable to keep a steady position to beat the shit out of you in return. Reddish-black blood pumps through your heart.
You feel <span class="mu-b">alive.</span> In your element.
"Sorry about this, Presley, but when I do something...I don't half ass it." You swing your leg at his unsteady legs, sending him falling to the floor again. The crowd watches on fanatically as the fight seems like it's about ready to end right here and now.
You check the crowd. Alongside O2 and W, some of the other Agents (Beta, Gamma, and Delta) seemed to have stopped by before leaving for their respective trips. The regular employees are entertained, those Agents are both confused and fascinated.
You check back on Presley. You haven't done any actual structural damage besides mild dents and scratches but you know he's worn out. His pride was severely damaged in your violent assbeating and if you putted a bit more into it, he might've been out for good.
