"Mada mada da ne."
Purin, still with a dubious feeling in her genetically spliced gut instinct, refrained from countering and instead went on the defensive, making sure to steer clear of the dangerous beam of energy the Mortar Headd called a sword. Enki feinted into the shield bash, leaning back to absorb the blow and pushed off with its offhand and clenched sword hand while it kicked off backwards to make distance from the following slice. Landing with the grace of a cat, the white Gunman skidded across the sand. Its heels and free hand dug into the sediment and launched plumes of the dreaded grains that no doubt threated to clog the sophisticated Jokerian mechanisms within Junchoon by the second.
From her agile, crouched pose, Purin could easily see the bright blade lurch hesitantly back towards Enki for a second pass. She lept up over the low swing, much higher than one might think a large machine could ever manage without thrusters, and brought Enki's limbs clear of the front as a missile box emerged from the Gunman's left shoulder and launched one of its projectiles straight into the ground below to create an explosive, billowing cloud of smoke and sand to obscure and confuse the MH; meanwhile Purin would easily be able to find her foe from the shining blade of energy in its hands.
Along the mesa tops, forms began to emerge. With wild eyes and wicked grins and scowls, odd looking machines in crude, vibrant colors gazed down to investigate the commotion. The local Beastman warriors from the previously threatened village just over the range of craggy desert plateaus peered at what they could only think was the famous swordsman Purin engaged with a new enemy after no doubt single handedly destroying the behemoth that now lay beneath them. While some watched the battle, others set the crazed sights of their Gunmen on the distant avian forms and hefted their various clubs, axes, and other brutish implements in anticipation- they weren't about to just hand over this valuable heap of scrap to literal vultures.
Purin, still with a dubious feeling in her genetically spliced gut instinct, refrained from countering and instead went on the defensive, making sure to steer clear of the dangerous beam of energy the Mortar Headd called a sword. Enki feinted into the shield bash, leaning back to absorb the blow and pushed off with its offhand and clenched sword hand while it kicked off backwards to make distance from the following slice. Landing with the grace of a cat, the white Gunman skidded across the sand. Its heels and free hand dug into the sediment and launched plumes of the dreaded grains that no doubt threated to clog the sophisticated Jokerian mechanisms within Junchoon by the second.
From her agile, crouched pose, Purin could easily see the bright blade lurch hesitantly back towards Enki for a second pass. She lept up over the low swing, much higher than one might think a large machine could ever manage without thrusters, and brought Enki's limbs clear of the front as a missile box emerged from the Gunman's left shoulder and launched one of its projectiles straight into the ground below to create an explosive, billowing cloud of smoke and sand to obscure and confuse the MH; meanwhile Purin would easily be able to find her foe from the shining blade of energy in its hands.
Along the mesa tops, forms began to emerge. With wild eyes and wicked grins and scowls, odd looking machines in crude, vibrant colors gazed down to investigate the commotion. The local Beastman warriors from the previously threatened village just over the range of craggy desert plateaus peered at what they could only think was the famous swordsman Purin engaged with a new enemy after no doubt single handedly destroying the behemoth that now lay beneath them. While some watched the battle, others set the crazed sights of their Gunmen on the distant avian forms and hefted their various clubs, axes, and other brutish implements in anticipation- they weren't about to just hand over this valuable heap of scrap to literal vultures.