Arlon's Haven Nov 10, 2018 16:10:24 GMT
Post by HungryHunter on Nov 10, 2018 16:10:24 GMT
Ron's fingers clacked loudly when he slapped his hands to his mouth. He hadn't meant to kill anybody! Twisted limbs stuck out of the car, blood slowly puddling over shattered glass. He didn't have time to mourn when the rifles cried out. Dozens of bullets rang off his frame, ricocheting every which way. Ron puffed himself up and was ready to taunt them to make himself feel better, but he quickly realized that not only was this uncomfortable and bruising, it was a serious threat to the vans in the center. His jets went off, throwing him into their faces in an instant. He tried to sweep all three guns from their hands with a single roundhouse kick. In the same move, he came back with a punch for one's face, attempting to sweep the leg of another, leaving only the third likely unscathed. He pulled his punches, enough that regular humans should find them survivable, if painful.
It didn't seem possible that Marceline's oversized orb of an eye spread further open that it always was, but it seemed to do so when the handgun was raised. Before she could react, the trigger was pulled and a hole opened up right through Marceline's skull. Little bits of dry bone fell to the ground. "Mother fucker, I was being nice!" Marceline yelled seeing her the pavement through her face in the rear-view mirror. She threw a single punch at full strength for the driver. It was a bone-crushing, torso-impaling sort of punch, one that could rock the whole car. Before she could do what she wanted with the parking brake, the rest of them came out, more guns pointed at her.
Guns were not very dangerous weapons to a doll. None of their organs could be injured in an immediately fatal fashion, and their small path of damage usually spared doll strings. They did, however, hurt. Marceline didn't like that. With the strength granted by her existing bullet wound, she grabbed the undercarriage of the car. With a shove, she was able to move it like a giant matchbox car, rolling it right at the gunmen in a sweeping arc. She couldn't quite toss it around yet, but that was momentary. If she took more shots, that wasn't far off.