𝐐.

「 . . .𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚗 𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚖𝚊 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜. 」

With his silhouette in the distance(with a bit off the top), so too did the rushing night air along his steel scalp. Feels cold.

Temporarily halting movement, once the cat climbed aboard—Q continued on to his next destination, despite the brief setback. . . . Seems his absolute focus doubled as convenient transportation.

From the corner of your eye, a mysterious man stands there. Watching intently. But with a blink, he is gone.

— that his trenchcoat flung back from the pressure dispersing. Such an exertion was met by something similar, yet Q couldn't seem to fathom anything but darkness permeating his twirling vision... Spiralling from whatever was thrown by Ryu, down for the count. 「 #METROMAYHEM 」

— as the one before him. Honing the wild hook toward the abdomen of the ladder, pressing the absolute bodyweight recklessly swung this entire ordeal. Now hoping to connect with absolute fury, controlling this barrage to deliver a painful gut punch with enough force backing —

— despite sharing an equally determined goal. Ragdolling muscles uncharacteristically locked, paying homage to the immovable object seeking to silence this unstoppable force. Brandishing a knuckle, dull in theory yet backed by the swinging torso leading almost as expertly —

— paying tribute to the finished through with a hand scooping that fallen hat and plopping it atop his forehead. The wounded Q rose his fists, making one vicious blitz toward the brawler he attempted to stall. Once again delivering a tribute to sheer power versus sheer skill, —

— before trudging atop his two feet. Raising like an automaton jerking between one whirred gear to the next, until the hunched fighters balled his fist to face the kneeling Ryu. Even now, underestimating him would spell for a death sentence. Something he'd dare not do again, —

— Ansatsuken master. Emotionless as his guise was, blood trickled from his neck. Pooling against the thick trenchcoat, littered with debris while dragged by the convulsing giant crawl toward the wall opposite of Ryu. Like a crippled machine, attempting to reassess damages —

— him. Ground concaving behind him as if a cannonball barreled right through him, unfamiliar with such powerful force opposing his freakish drive of power. Enough to rattle even he, the almighty Q. After so many years, he had certainly underestimates the martial artist; now —

— attempt to soften Ryu. Fruitless, however, for that piercing palm collided against his chest. Upon connection with the chi-based defibrillator, a shockwave of force surged through the toppled goliath's body. Limbs instinctively swinging forward to send Ryu tumbling beside —

— this grueling reality as his steel helm ricocheted off the ground, rebounding into that blood thirsty fist and returning earthbound in a series of hellish strikes. Sluggishly attempting to reach his aggressor, firing a couple countering fists to the side of his skull in —

— Distracted by destiny settling as powers that be intended, his hat gracelessly trailed his plummeting body. Careening alongside Ryu with a reverberating thud, that desperate slam currently rendering him prone--pummeling fists quite literally, forced the vigilante back into —

Distracted by an unseen collision, brief dissociation from the situation, shot Q's curious gaze into the hallway shrouded in darkness. Windows suddenly illuminating two rivaling hues of clashing azure and sunset. [ xitter.cf/RowdyDiplomacy/status/… ] Finally, the tides of fate turned. —

— his sole as if snuffing out a previously used cigarette bud. Silence searching for another crush for ligament or marrow, slowing to gauge Ryu. Head tilting to analyze the damage. Q was definitely outpaced, but was this a cue to evolve stalling into defeat? 「 #METROMAYHEM 」