[attr="class","nikita"]Irritably, Nikita shakes the brains from hs shoes. It is obvious he is more irritated by the ichor than the murder. There are other ways to get the data he needed, after all. Unfortunately, this will need to be explained with paperwork.

Skipping away from the body, he uses his kerchief to wipe the blood from his shoes.

Unlike his trainer, Detective Winters was still on high alert. His ears perk up at the noise of someone approaching. The other dog--so reminiscent of his old self in appearance--proves himself a loudmouth. Nikita's head snaps up as the Houndstone leaps into action. Or, more accurately, out of harm's way. His _Phantom Force_ allows him to disappear into the ether. He does not immediately reappear.

No, he is looking for the perfect moment to strike. Perhaps to disable those fiery jaws.

His trainer reaches for a cigarette before remembering the pack is empty. With a sigh, he turns to face the Houndoom. "I assume we cannot settle this like gentlemen?" Then, he spots the trainer. There's a predatory glimmer in the man's eyes. He licks his dry lips.
Y74augqY

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] dorian westcliff

[attr="class","nikita"]"Mister Westcliff, what a pleasure." His voice sounds almost congenial. But beneath he's an Arbox poised to strike. Some part of him is tempted to lift his gun and save the world this man's brand of terror.

But this man's twisted, corrupted mind is likely even more useful than the one scrambled beneath him. A hand caresses his gun. But he is not certain he can fire before the dog jumps.

It is not that he fears death. Far from it. But he would like for it to mean something.

A dry, sardonic chuckle emerges. "Most men don't, I'm afraid." He steps on the corpse's face to give him leverage to avoid the growing puddle.

"I do not suppose you will come quietly?"
ijnprtS0

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] dorian westcliff

[attr="class","nikita"]"Formerly?" The man's chuckle is as dry as his wit. "It is fortunate I have thick skin." That look of scorn is reflected in his tired eyes.

Oh dear, the megalomaniac had found his soapbox. "I was educating you on the facts of life, not espousing on the talents of scum." He shook his head as he moved forward. At the talk of talent, he cannot fight away a sigh.

"How unfortunate." It sounds the opposite. His eyes linger on Bone Daddy for a moment before flicking up to Dorian. "But I can work with that."

"Winters!" The ghoul erupted from behind the Rocket himself. His attack aimed to knock Dorian from the perch. No terrorist deserved the privilege of the high ground.
330qFQAW

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] dorian westcliff

[attr="class","nikita"]A dark brow rose. "Charlatans do not typically have business licenses." Except for life coaches, he supposed. His office was certainly not in a strip mall. It was a lovely building on a quiet street. But that was not the crux of the issue here. "You should swing by next time you're in town." Perhaps he could find the man's morality.

"Please excuse me if I'm not interested in yours." Certainly, he'd done his share of deplorable things. His arms were marked by scars when his urge for something beat out his better senses.

His hands were dyed dark red by all the blood they had spilled. But it was nothing compared to Dorian.

The Houndstone growled as the Dark Pulse hit its mark. His thick skin provided ample armor, but he could feel the shadows oozing into the cracks.

Kicking off the stones, Winters aims to close the gap between him and his ex-body double with a Play Rough.

"Mid-life crisis I see." Nikita remarks off-handledly as the Genesect takes center stage. Not enjoying the thought of being outnumbered, he brings his Glalie to the field.

"Ignatius." The ice type rumbled as it stared at the Genesect.
mTaHcSqH

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] dorian westcliff

[attr="class","nikita"]"They do have some standards, Mister Westcliff." Where Dorian is sass, Nikita is dryer than frozen carbon dioxide. At the talk of washed-up, Nikita laughs. There's a momentary flash of madness in his normally stoic gaze. Just how many of this man's friends had he personally taken out? "What a relief it is to understand one another." Left unsaid were their self-proclamations: you must die.

The Houndstone's attack connects. For a moment, the world is nothing but pink, bone, and shadow. So eager is he to put this uppity pup in its place that he misses the warning signs.

The dog smashes into the rock. For a moment, he crumbles. An earlier encounter with a Flutter Mane had already left its mark. But a huff and headshake later he is back on his feet. It's quite difficult to kill the dead. Vanishing again, the ghost returns to the land of six feet under.

Waiting just long enough for the dog to begin to doubt his reemergence, he bursts back out beneath him in a Dig.

Nikita, meanwhile, stares up at the Genesect. "Did it come with a placard?" The detective scoffs. The idea of workplace loyalty is laughable to him. Especially when you are in bed with blackhearts and terrorists.

As the flames wash over them, a blue barrier erupts into being. The Glalie's blue eyes stare up at Dorian with almost dismissive distaste. "Ready, Ignatius?" The ice-type nods as his trainer brushes his watch. CRACK! The ice-type's jaws grow until they snap.

The Mega Glalie stares up at the Genesect for a moment. Then it screams. The noise whips up a blizzard,

XIUqR0yh

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] dorian westcliff

[attr="class","nikita"]The Houndstone's strange, thick fur helps deaden blows rained against it. Though it is unclear if his current stubbornness is more to blame.

Nikita chuckled. "Do not count your Torchic's before they hatch." Though he exudes cool bravado, he is aware of what he faces. Genesect is a difficult obstacle, one best overcome with a fire-type. Unfortunately, his only one was robbed of such power the same day his life was torn from him.

The Glalie turns as the Genesect zips around. His bright eyes show with pain. But he is ready to attack. From his mouth, frost exudes. For a moment, the pair are blurred out in white.

"Tch!" Nikita steadies himself as the earth shakes beneath him. This means the Paradox beasts will not be far behind. A shaking hand dips into his pocket, crushing an empty cigarette box.

His eyes catch on something that spilled from the detonator's back. Pale lips perk up slightly.

The dog, pressured by the earthquake, bursts out from the ground beneath Bone Buddy. His aim is off but his eyes fiery.

"If you admire his work so much, Mister Westcliff--" A scarred, skeletal hand wraps around the backpack's strap. "--you should look more closely."

He tosses it. "Winters." In such sync were the pair that nothing else needed to be said.

A Will-o-Wisp rocketed toward the bag. Another gust of cool wind boosted its path. Tick, tock, tick, tock.
zldQaGgk

[attr="class","samjerpoke"]

[attr="class","nikitatag"] dorian westcliff