There was thrill in this. Fear was compulsive, and it allowed her to push her body beyond the bounds when given right. With just the right amount, it was thrilling. Exciting. An oxymoronically adored change of pace for what would rather be an otherwise mundane life. After all, if she didn't experience the fear that came with risk, she would not be here, in this place. A far better place than where she was.
And despite this, she couldn't help this hide this looming fear from this man running right through her bullets. The fact that the most she had killed were some soldiers caught off guard by her accuracy. And now she was up against some cyborg, a man who could probably very well kill her with one good punch if he wanted to and a woman who could manipulate the very thing that lead to her being dubbed an angel of death in old country.
"You are about to get punched."
Styx's eyes widened as he got dangerously closed, and started to yank on her hair. "But this is fine. They don't wanna kill you. If that lady wanted to kill you, she would've. But instead she's just grabbing all of your weapons."
Styx founds herself clutching her guns very tightly as she braced for the incoming strike. "This isn't any different. One mistake and you'd be dead. And you've been close to death before. You dance around bullets that can kill you at any time. Just dance around his fists."
Her brother's voice resonated quietly throughout her mind.
She going to get punched, but she didn't at all have any interest in taking it lying down. She weaved backward and diffused the force of the man's punch. But this man was a monster. He sought to hit with the flurry, but would find the girl was blasted back. And to think that in all reality, the strike didn't even hit cleanly. She defused the force of the punch.
The noise of her shoulder dislocating. Blood flies from her her face and for a moment, her eyes roll up into her head, before returning to their normal blue color.
The subtle sound of air passing as she is almost tossed off her feet.
Her snow white, inhuman hair no more. The illusion is broken and it is shown to be a wig. Her real hair is a raven like black. She can't but feel a little naked, and her hands twitch, as though she instinctively wants to cover herself. But she knows all that will do is probably get her punched in the face again. She can feel her brother restraining her hands as she attempts to do so.
"It's okay. You're a phantom."
The sound of her her ballet like dress shoes landing on the ground. And another crack.
She feels her brother pushing her shoulder back into it's appropriate place, though to the external observer, Styx did it to herself. She grunts and lets out a whimpering noise, and then braces for the ongoing assault.
The first punch comes and BANG it is swatted away by her shooting his fist point blank, using the bullet's pure impact to deflect. Her body swayed, and now, she proved hard to hit overall, slippy even when she wasn't running, her movement oddly comparable to that of an evasive boxer. She saw
that he going for her hands. But blow after blow was deflect as slowly but assuredly, Daemon was pushing her back. She had no bullets and at this point, one could very easily see that she didn't have anywhere near the strength needed to hurt Daemon or come anywhere near contending with him at close range.
Even now she still talks. Her body is completely relaxed, like a fighters. And her methods require little stamina. Moreso skill. "I have to say, you're pretty good Mister"
She bats away another fist with a bullet. "I haven't been hit in a long time"
She sways past another fist licking her bloody lips. "I thought I could kill you but"
She fires off her second to last bullet "I don't think I can today."
Her last shot.A spray of water juts out a pipe near. His hand finally hits it's mark, slapping a gun out of her hand. But he focused far too much on disarming her rather than focusing on her. Stretching her arm out and having him hit it made it all the easier to misdirect him, and for her to step in that nice blindspot and slip behind him.
She drops her gun as she sprints off. It wasn't like she had any use for it.
It seemed someone had taken an interest in the girl, and tried to find out who and what she was. The data that came up was indeed very scanty.
"Funny you mention that Mister Cyborg!"
She stops just shy of one particular spot....
A little blood dripped through a hole in the brace, over his hand. His fist clenched.
...Takes out a handkerchief and swipes up a pile of blood. She turns to the cyborg man, clearing her throat.
"Twenty Five thousand for a wound and about a hundred grand for his head."
She turns and starts to run. By now, he's probably gaining on her. "Sorry Mister, I think it'd be interesting to work with you. But I made a promise. And I value my promises."
Until she can't run anymore.