women only want one thing and it's to effectively utilize girl power

[conducting]

for ciel and the chainsaws

Comments

[septieme]

[It's a little uncomfortably reminiscent to a certain brand of immortality she knows, how Makima seems to be regenerating so quickly and completely. Her only reaction to the woman effortlessly recovering limb and weapon is a deeper frown upon her brow. No time for much else, when the retaliation comes in the form of explosive shots utterly invisible to the naked eye. Feeling the shift in the air is her only hint, and paired with years of combat experience against the superhuman, that's likely the only reason her limbs are still attached to her body. The blasts managed to graze away a chunk of her habit by the left shoulder, right arm, and left hip. She comes to understand her situation before the inconsequential scrapes on her skin are processed: as long as she is within sight of her opponent, the barrage will most likely continue. To find cover is to reverse their situation, and if she intends on holding onto her role as the hunter, then...

Ricocheting off a nearby chimney she briefly landed on after (mostly) dodging the blasts, the dark blur shoots back straight at her with full intention to punch through her solar plexus, with enough strength to shatter layers of concrete. Makima gets her wish; she prefers close combat? Then hand-to-hand, they'll try next.]

[conducting]

[ the finger bangs keep firing, though she can't deny being impressed with how fast ciel is moving to dodge them. ah, and now she's coming straight at her. what an interesting opponent they've sent after her.

the punch will land, but not as ciel intended. as it connects a man in a suit hacks out blood to the ground, taking full hit that kills him instantly. the chain that connects his back to makima's stomach breaks apart and shatters. he collapses between them. ]

You hit hard. Do you have any contracts, Ciel? Or did they modify you to do that?

[ she isn't totally privy to the church's dealings, but religious institutions are all frauds. her fists raise up, a playful smile on her lips. one hit can break her skull, but the fight would be really boring if it ended so fast. she expects more out of this hound. ]

Word of advice: strike for the head.

[ and that's what she does, stepping to close the distance with a fist aimed at ciel's nose. ]

[septieme]

[Of course one who controls others for offence can use the same for defence, as much as it's a little late to second-guess her instant shift in strategy now that they've veritably come face to face.

The shattered scapegoat (--so the chain breaks, duly noted--) is only afforded the minimal attention required in gauging its threat potential after elimination. It's all she can spare, when focus on her opponent is absolutely mandatory from what little she's already tasted of their encounter. Thus Makima's strike is parried with the back of her other forearm as she angles herself aside, just enough to shift the full force of the blow away from her body while maintaining a flexible stance.]

I have what I need for my work.

[The advice is unanswered. The brain and heart are generally the most vulnerable areas for most sentient creatures, true, but Devils are even more of a different breed than Dead Apostles. Speculating won't do much regardless, if her blows don't land to begin with. Thus what follows is a flurry of barrages aimed for the head, heart, and joints; the strikes are quick and powerful, but measured nevertheless. Her combat style tells more than words can: highly skilled but not single-mindedly devoted, unrelenting but calculated.

...Cautious, even; she's not biting off more than she can chew. Makima knows a well-disciplined dog when she meets one, wouldn't she?]

[conducting]

[ with every blow ciel launches, makima blocks and counters. for every counter, ciel parries. it's fun for her to have an opponent that can take her blows. she rarely ever gets to exert her power. the truth of control is that is largely made up of soft powers that build up over time. it begins with an offer, then a job, then a series of tasks related to the job. all the while she gives benefits and perks at just the right intervals to leave people satisfied and yet wanting more. it is a long, long process to capture someone's heart and mind, until finally the day comes when they offer their soul.

for some people it takes a week. others six month. many more years. she is a patient devil and that is how she wins. ciel is also biding her time, isn't she? every move is calculated and cautious, waiting for the right moment.

it comes when makima is a little too slow to block - ciel's fist blows right into her head. the force knocks her off her feet and to the ground, her head lobbed off to the side and her eyes bleeding tears from the strike. a red trickle follows out her nose and mouth.

ouch. ]

[septieme]

[That's how control is normally established, how dogs are usually trained. But all things have their exceptions, for better or worse, so where does this leave the dogs who willingly let themselves be commanded? Not out of a desire for reward or acknowledgement, but simply because they believe it is all they can do, all they're good for? Expectation and reward are for creatures who have dreams and desires for the future. For those without, driven by nothing else but their uncompromising values shaped by something immutable...

...More of a machine than any beast, is it. No human can stare down at a severed head without flinching, after all--not one who could pass off as an ordinary one, if nothing else.

And without losing a split second to idleness or some misplaced sense of accomplishment, three more Black Keys are summoned and just as promptly thrown onto the ground to form a triangle around Makima's head. A barrier is erected from them, echoing off a soft otherworldly glow. How would a powerful Devil bereft of its head regenerate, left to its devices? It wasn't part of the information she received during her briefing, but in this line of "work", a lack of thoroughness would only invite further complications down the road. Any and all loose ends must not be overlooked. She can't say with confidence how effective this may be, but if it can keep the head isolated for any extra stretch of time, then it's that much bought in keeping incapacitated the target she was ordered to hunt.

Keeping her guard up and the (currently) unmoving body in her line of sight, the Executor approaches the head. The possibility that the body may just grow another one crosses her mind, but... one thing at a time.]

...

[conducting]

[ both head and body remain motionless and yet there is a distinct feeling that makima is still alive. her skin is bright and smooth as if it was still attached, and her body doesn't present signs of rigor mortis in the passing couple minutes.

then, on the adjacent roof, someone appears. a teenage girl with short hair, wearing a business-casual dressy blouse with a matching tie and black slacks, approaches the edge with a grin. attached to the side of her neck is a circular safety pin. her eyes are vacant as is the empty cheer in her voice, hands clasping together in a begging gesture.

"Ahh, what are you doing with Makima's head? That's no good. Can you return that to her, pretty please?" ]

[septieme]

[Of course it wouldn't be this easy. Nothing ever is in this line of work, maybe there's more similarities between Executors and Devil Hunters than anyone would care to consider. That the Church has decided to act now... Suppose it's in their ilk's very name, hm. 'Devil'. It's not as personal, but a machine doesn't question orders. It simply operates as programmed, until the day it can no longer executeits function anymore.

Within the passage of these brief few seconds, several options are considered. None ideal. She instinctively understands that truly killing the target will be difficult to accomplish, at least not with her current equipment. She could try escaping with the head too, but where to? Collateral damage is of no concern for one seeking to undo God. Furthermore, taking in account the Devil of Control's namesake alone, there's no way the path wouldn't be rife with obstacles.

And almost as if on cue, the first (of many, no doubt) appears. Six more Black Keys are flung within an eyeblink towards the main body of the "corpse", each engraved with the Cremation Rite set to explode and burn upon contact. They'll burst ablaze with a voracity impossible for normal fire, engulfing flesh that still feels so very alive without waning as if it were paper. Buying time...

Ultimately, the most practical course of action would be to treat this first encounter as a trial. Observe the target's combat specs - or rather, the use of their varied assets, employ different methods of injury through means both physical and supernatural, note the effects, and return once she is better prepared. This woman Devil is internationally wanted, it should not be difficult to create an ambush opportunity born out of someone else's assassination attempt, for example.

That much decided, Ciel wastes no time. A faintly glowing circle etched with the arcane sprawls where she stands, a foot behind where Makima's head is still encased by the three Keys. Raising an arm skywards, her narrowing eyes are locked on the girl's while she quietly recites the incantation under her breath, the rest of her unmoving but alert. Shall the spell be woven to completion without interruption for a few more seconds, a bolt of light will quite literally descend from the sky and smite the head, formed by sunlight, reinforced by sacraments, and refined through magecraft. Combining the holy and thaumaturgical, most Dead Apostles would not survive it. A Devil, however...]

[conducting]

[ the girl watching, passively, as ciel flings the keys and burns the body. it's when the nun's arm reaches to the sky that she takes action. in the first second she closes the gap between herself and the head. in the second the bolt is summoned. in the third the girl hooks her fingers into the pin on her neck.

Boom!

in the fourth, an explosion. both the bolt striking the girl and the girl exploding. two destructive blasts combining to destroy the building where it all takes place. the roof is instantly destroyed and the rest of the building follows suit, collapsing in on itself entirely. where there was once a complex full of people, now there is a burning spire, ash and dust, and crowds of people gasping and screaming from blocks away as they see what happens.

and, a few blocks away, a woman with red braided hair steps from the shadows of night and joins the crowd to watch. that was a lot more destructive than she planned for. well, that's the price to pay when being hunted. speaking of... there's no way that nun is dead. makima smiles as she eyes the growing crowd and starts to back away, walking opposite of the people gathering to see the calamity. she rather not get the masses involved, not because she cares but because destruction of public property isn't in her best interest.

in the end, she's still a representative of the japanese government.

as the distance expands and she reaches the middle of an empty crosswalk, no sign of life, the buildings lit up and the nearby stores lining the streets aglow in neon signs, she stretches her arms up with a satisfied 'aaah' ]

I'm pretty tired. Hey, do you want to call it a night?

[ is she nearby? she must be. come on out, hound. ]

[septieme]

[She smells it, before the young girl with that odd neck accessory reaches her: the burnt and sulphuric scent of gunpowder. The pin's actual purpose clicks, the instant before it is pulled from where it was lodged.

Concrete turns to grounded dust. Flesh peels away to charred ash. Light engulfs the building, before being replaced by a most crumbling and destructive darkness. The peaceful but lively meander of the city at this hour rapidly devolves into a cacophony of chaos, filled with cries of fear and pain and panic. ...So much for minimizing collateral damage.

In the distance, there is the blaring of sirens. The block is in sheer disorder, filling up with more idle onlookers than concerned helpers. ...Really, it's no good. Combat in crowded areas is, truly...

...

There is no verbal answer. Makima should no doubt still feel it, however, a sharp and watchful presence trailing her coming from behind her. Somewhere among the buildings of the block she just left, closer to the site of disaster where for all intents and purposes, it looks as if a meteor had just struck.

A suffocating and acrid breeze blows by, more aftermath of the wreckage two inhuman creatures have wrought. When the air settles, the presence is gone; it's retreated further backwards, into the crumbling and burning debris of the obliterated building.

...

The Devil of Control has eyes and ears everywhere, right? Then perhaps it won't be long at all, before she picks up intel from her various sources about a nun with short dark hair clad in charred robes helping civilians back where the explosion had occurred. Calming and directing the lightly wounded away from the scene on the surface, but unearthing buried victims and quickly treating even serious wounds in ways no ordinary human hands can accomplish, and no ordinary human eyes can track.

It would appear that the hound sent after her today possesses more than one function. Makima wants to call it a night? That's one way to close the day out. Does she have any complaints?]