Mexican Dragon in America (Mission for STRENGTH and Achi-- Megali)

Description: In Niobrara County, Wyoming State, America, as in the United States of America, and not Northern or Southern American continents, sat the flat lands of Bissaro, so named for a famed Italian whom carved an artificial canyon that extends for kilometers downward, with a wide berth of a mile that sets its width, the particular ridge was a planned project at first to make an underground city that could survive a nuclear explosion. Soon enough it turned into a military base after the government took a hold of it, and Bissaro offered his services. However, as a result of his failure to deliver, eventually with more than millions spent on trying to build it, ultimately it failed as a concept, that after a decade with nothing to show for it, the facility soon closed up with multiple caverns at the bottom of the canyon sealed with vaults sat closed. The largest of them though seemed to be open somewhat into the large expanse of empty space within, and seemingly pitch black. The way down being a ladder, and a nonfunctional elevator, unless of course in a fit of madness, whomever wants to venture down, leaps to the huge bound of height to aggressively decelerate.

What called VWAT's attention into the area was the fact apparently a winged creature was preying on banks, in highways that are otherwise stretching to other parts of the counties, when secluded, wrecked armored bank vans and stole the gold before devouring the drivers, that at first was taken as a case of very bloodthirsty bank robbers, now seems to be seen as a case of the supernatural, as a sole survivor, heavily wounded and barely clung to life, told tales of the huge creature. Aerial aircraft detection and satellite imaging both, being collaborated, managed to track down the blurry illusive winged creature to the canyon, where though the recordings were strangely fuzzy (like that time with Big Foot, whom is totally real), showed it took the latest batch of gold to a huge vault door, where it entered and ever since, remained.

Are you a bad enough dude to save the pres-- and so starts the story of an ancient homicidal warrior-woman, and her trusty companion, the sociopathic cyborg mass murderer.

The revived hero of the Trojan war sat uncomfortably in the seat of a large cargo plane belonging to the US military en route to her newest assignment. Regardless of the repeated reassurance offered by the pilot and other technicians, Achilles still felt supremely uncomfortable in this strange flying vehicle and longed to get out of it as soon as possible. Because of that fact, it came as an odd relief when a technician slid open one of the heavy cargo bay doors revealing nothing but clear blue sky. Rising to her feet, she double checked the harness and backpack she had been given beforehand. They had of course gone over the finer points of its function but a little confirmation wouldn't hurt.

"You are sure that this device will slow my fall as practiced?" she asked the man standing alongside the open doorway. He took her through another last minute summary of parachute procedure before clipping his harness onto hers. Regardless of her natural healing abilities, she had neither the training nor the desire to attempt jumping without being tethered to a trained profession. Steeling herself, she nodded at his signal and followed his leap through the open doorway.

Entering free fall for the first time was an incredible experience for the ancient warrior, wind whipping by her as she matched the posture of the man tied to her back before they suddenly decelerated with a sharp tug. Evidently the parachute had worked and Achilles' was presented with a glorious view of the endless flat lands and the monstrous canyon below to enjoy in the slowly fading light.

Moving them into a gradual spiral descent to make sure they hit their assigned mark outside the opened vault, the more experienced sky diver displayed skill befitting his position within such an elite military organization. "So...any idea what this thing is?" the male soldier asked, attempting to pass the time as the ground came up at a brisk pace.

Thinking back on the images of the creature that she had been shown, Achilles began to narrow down the potential list of what it could be. Many legendary monsters in her era dominated the skies above with terrifying power but few had such an odd fascination with treasure. Considering both of those factors, she could think of only one thing that matched such a description. "I believe it is a drakon."

Though he did not respond verbally, the man's accented gulp said much about his own misgivings on her answer. The silence brought on by that answer hung in the air between them as they finally touched down in front of the opened vault. Stripped of their parachute harness, the twosome slowly advanced on the doorway and paused before the seemingly endless darkness. Taking her shield and spear from her back, Achilles inspected the state of the doors themselves, spying all too obvious gouges in the heavy metal structures left by massive claws of some sort.

For his part, her accomplice for the moment opened his own backpack to remove a high powered light cannon. Holding the large device with both hands, he turned it on and slowly swept the massive column of light across the vault's interior.

Routine. Not exactly, but close enough, as paradoxical as that statement would sound. Just another mission, though. Vampire or werewolf or dragon; no matter what, she'd complete the mission. Apparently, they felt it necessary to assign her a partner for this, despite how well having to carry the load of another person went last time. The damage had been repaired from that blunder, though, and they had declared it a success, deaths being deemed a necessary cost, apparently.

The two agents had already hopped from the plane, a parachute opening above them not long after. Another man with a chute began to approach her, but she had already jumped. He scrambled to the side to see what had become of her, in a state of panic over what his superiors would say if they transfer agent died (especially if it was from jumping out of a plane).

She'd performed this activity many times before. By now, the other two had reached the ground. Impact would come a few seconds after. A loud crash announced her arrival, shock absorbers in her arms depressing the connections to her flesh up to her shoulders. She was unharmed, if crouched slightly from the landing. Stepping out of the minuscule crater, she approached the others, legs that seemed disproportionate to her large cybernetics padding across the ground at a quick pace.

The scenery was that of destitute, charred skeletal remains were left behind, scattered across a wide expansive opening as they all lead across the vast space to yet another within the vault's somewhat illuminated bowels. It seemed to go forever in the hollow blocky interior rife with dust, where the ceiling stood high, the walls wide, and the ground fat and flat with numerous punctures of large indentation across the concrete floor which seemed to share the material in all dimensions of the man-made make. Yet there was nothing to stall the advance of the intrepid women and their courageous male counterparts of great bravery and nerve should they wish to go inside, apparently with numerous other adjacent corridors to the side both, perhaps to the many facilities a Nuclear Fallout shelter has to offer, more suited to the height of an average human person if entered through those sideway arches connected to the corridors of a number dozen split evenly from both sides, whereas the front on ahead continued to span the same fifty meter height as the vault's initial interior. Eternity went onward as there was no evidence of an end to the blackness.

Despite that, they all had one thing in common, and the complete lack of ANYTHING offered to spruce up the place, as well as the fact the charred skeletons, what little remained on their brittle black figure were scraps of clothes for casual goings, and backpacks that are now long ruined to function any sort of necessitated use.

There was absolute silence, aside from a slight mumbled whimpering at the far end of the non-illuminated darkness to those with keen enough ears to pick out the details.

Apparently the lights were out, to those that were observant to note a lack of incandescent illumination of gross ineptitude.

(OOC: Continue forward, or go to the side? Or just screw around? The choice is yours, young falafels.)

Following the path of the flashlight's beam with her eyes, the Greek woman contemplated the best route to take as they were joined by the third and final member of their team. Among the many changes that Achilles had been forced to come to terms with, the young girl known as STR ranked as one of the most jarring. As it had been explained to her, the girl had been bolstered through the use of modern technology well beyond what was normally available. At this point, Achilles had simply adopted the policy that almost anything was possible through technology in this day and age. It was far easier to just accept it and move on.

Shifting her spear into her left hand, the revived warrior reached into her own backpack and withdrew several crimson colored flares. Igniting them in short order, she dropped the first straight down to illuminate the base of the nearby ladder and hurled the other two deeper into the cave to mark the location of the side tunnels. Turning back to look at her mechanized partner, Achilles gestured to the largest of the tunnels with a nod of her head. "I believe the beast awaits us at the end of that passage."

Without another word, the Greek woman mounted the nearby ladder and began a gradual slide down to the tunnels below, followed by their lantern carrying assistant.

She followed the other two at a distance. When they had cleared the hole, she simply jumped into it, landing on her fists and continuing down the tunnel. There wasn't much to do now but keep moving forward. The barrels on her fingers opened preemptively, prepared to fire whenever they met the monster they'd been sent to kill.

As they descends down, it seemed to span an eternity should she deign to continue down into the chasm of darkness, yawning into the ears of those coming below to the ground that never seemed to come with silent whispers of winds whistling past ears, a breeze that blew upward in a draft which hurried outward as the atmosphere was heavy, the air was thick and seemingly not as fresh or clear as outside. It was that of charcoal smell, mixed with a musk of algae and sulfur. STRENGTH on the other hand wisely elected to ignore such a long arduous journey, hence cutting all the traveling in barely even a quarter of the amount. The landing indubitably would cause loud noise, and a crater in her wake that'd echo throughout the vast tunnel, perhaps vast enough to store a battleship and steer it inside, some may think.

(OOC: ALRIGHT KIDS, assuming that you lot went to crump some gitz by going up ahead till you MEET something, so I'll be playing it out as if you were there, IF you're there, if not, then uh... awkward?)

Should they continue onward through the large tunnel though, they'd near a large, scaly form in the middle of a clearing, perched atop a hill of gold heaps of ingots, asymmetrically they were assembled and hastily strewn on the wide ground where seemingly none the wall, the ceiling and the few straw ingots far from the trove were brought together, and a being watched with slit golden eyes at those that walk near, about fifty paces ahead of the monster. It rested its chin on its knuckles, red skinned with a weave of hardness, its tail curved around to reach its prone right leg, and its direction of its overall body looked forward at those that came with the intent to fulfill VWAT's agenda. A paradox of how dragons appeared, it was thick with bony plating from its belly, spanning all the way its below frame, from entirety of its head, to throat, limbs, and even its tail was armored with a spiked sharpness to it at the end.

"What little morsels saw fit to grace this greatness that is I?" Came the gravely low purr of a most amused mouth curling into that of intrigues, its lizard face contorting for a faux-smile at the sight of these mortals, as an inkling of even greater amusement came at the two, enlightenment sparking into realization as the scent filled its large nostrils, embers of fire illuminating out of its brimstone mouth like a cauldron ready to guzzle out in swathes vast and huge. "Mmmyes, I know that smell anywhere. The latest of toys coming to play with me what with one of you being a literal toy. Hrm... purpose drives you instead of mere curiousity, but it's delusions all the same, but enough formalities, tell me, do you prefer being medium rare, or burnt to a crisp? I promise you that it WILL entertain me."

Spoiler:

Continuing down the seemingly endless tunnel through the Earth while leaving a consistent trail of crimson flares in their wake, it was only a matter of time before the agents of VWAT came across their target. At the first sight of the great beast, the ancient Greek paused in her stride to carefully ease her backpack to the ground. She would have no more need for it now that the monster had been found. Gloved hands tightened around her shield and spear as the woman fully entered the cavern of treasure that had become the dragon's lair.

It was an impressive creature to be sure, carrying an unmistakable air of majesty that seemed at odds with this modern era. Whatever the dragon's origins, it was far removed from its own and proper time. In a strange way, Achilles felt as if she could sympathize with the monster in that regard. That being said, a passing similarity did nothing to change the fact that the dragon was her prey and judging by his threatening introduction, he had no complaints against killing her and the others where they stood.

She raised her spear in response, pointing the tip directly at the dragon's eye. "You overstep yourself. You will be nothing but a footnote in my legend and a trophy upon my wall," she said with a detached distaste. Giving her spear a swift spin into a chambered position, Achilles shifted her left side forward to present her shield to the enemy before her.

Finding this monster was easier than expected. The order was the engage at the first sight, so she did just that. The creature began speaking, but it was of no concern, her arms raised and already firing a hail of overly large caliber bullets directly at its face and neck. Despite its size, she had been briefed to expect increased mobility in case it happened to be fast. As a preparation, she stayed on the move, dashing to the right side as she fired.

A pause of only a second happened after all bullets in each arm's first magazine were depleted, said magazines ejected from the tops as another set were loaded in to continue the firing process. Cover would be fairly pointless, so she didn't choose to seek it. Her arms were fireproof, more than enough to avoid any breath attacks. Speed or not, she'd be able to launch herself out of the way of swipes with a quick jump off the ground. This area actually gave the most advantage for the humans, considering the dragon would have less room to move, as opposed to the open air outside.

So the dragon's wits never lost it's head once, as it watched the two and some more ever attentive of their nuances and minute movements, with those slit-iris eyes of its own, measuring them, gauging them like prey to rape its teeth into their flesh, and gouge on their remains to be had aplenty. Looking to the already hostile not-real person actually opening fire at her, a parody of humans more machine than woman, the dragon brought itself to a full stand on its four legs, towering over the rest of the bunch within its reach, its throat running red with an illuminating blaze, and finally its mouth sparking with fiery molten slag. The bullets nominally made for piercing armour rather easily, ironically failed to pierce the bony protrusions of the dragon's plated hide, lodging into the armoring around its thick chin and neck to no scathing effect aside from damaging of aesthetic nature, blooming into rose-like petals from the sudden flatness spurred from those hail of bullets STRENGTH took to firing at it on the onset, but the dragon's position was not of dormant inaction.

It did not take to actually doing nothing, instead, with practiced motion of experience tempering its arrogance, it aimed ahead of where STRENGTH ran in her onward dash to the right, heaving outward a stream of molten slag in a sweep opposite of the cyborg and her intended path, going directly for her projected intended path as it took advantage of momentum not being easily shifted as one runs far ahead in its onset urgency of sudden combat to something as baser as a puppet. Scything the heated stream straight for her as it was intentionally aimed at the middle mass of her bulk, as huge in its diameter and volume to encompass the cyborg whole, keeping the stream directly centered on the cyborg and to update with following its position to the exactness, with a slight fixation to the intended path of the meat puppet of external enhancements should it prove fruitless for the temporary duration in hitting that thing with a stream of slag.

Though Achilles herself was not thoroughly ignored, instead kept within the dragon's awareness as a distanced gap stood between the two, but not enough to bear a difference, yet. It was as if the cyborg was worthier in attention from the dragon, than the legendary and famed heroine of myths and legends from the response of violence garnered to the creature-thing than she of spear-borne viciousness.

The beast dared to ignore her retort! No, it went one step further and had the gall to ignore her entirely in favor of the human weapon! Such insolence! Such disrespect would not stand! Dashing forward a step behind STR's own rush, Achilles chose to make a beeline for the draconian abomination rather than a strafing pattern like the cyborg. Ideally, she would have liked to open a hole in the creature's throat in order to neutralize its ability to spew spire but based on how those scales held up against the cyborg's firearms it was doubtful that anything less than a perfect thrust between the them would be effective. She would have to go with a secondary option and pick the beast apart piece by piece.

While the dragon unleashing a torrent of firey death at the cyborg, the revived warrior hurled her spear with a practiced ease ingrained into her very bones, sending the sharpened tip soaring straight for the monster's nearest eye. Continuing her charge with her shield at the ready, Achilles was not content to leave her assault to a single spear throw. Hurling herself towards the dragon's head once she was within reach, the Greek woman intended to grab onto her spear just as it plunged into the beast's eye and use the momentum of her leap to drive the weapon through its eye socket and into the brain beyond. Of course, should the beast manage to avoid a debilitating injury, the leap would also put Achilles in an ideal position to catch her weapon as it rebounded off those armor-like scales.

Its burning attack was predictable. What else was a dragon supposed to do? Coiling the mechanisms in her arms, she launched off the ground to avoid the stream of heat. Her fingers punched through the ceiling on one arm, allowing her to hand from it. It wouldn't hold for long, but she only needed to stay there for a bit. Her free hand continued firing at the monster, targeting the head and face.

More than likely, the dragon would follow her with its breath. Her weight began to pull her free then, anyway, so she simply swung away from whatever direction it would potentially come blasting at her from. Her arms would absorb the shock of landing, turning back around to face the monster and continue firing. A new idea was inspired by the evasion, though. Instead of firing at the creature, she'd fire above it. Her rounds could easily punch through concrete. The ceiling would be no different. All she had to do was weaken it enough and a hefty payload of cement would come toppling down on top of it.

The dragons beady eyes with slit-like irises picked up on the nuanced movements molded through the apex role of predation over the lesser species that lurk beneath the dragon, making it easy for them to spot prey as easily as leagues far away to scoop them up and devour them. In that same logic, it followed the movements of the not-human cybernetic organism in attention, and yet considered the ground beneath, spitting out further streams of heated fluids as it flickered with cackles of heat snapping into the air above in convection, pooling a large swathe directly underneath STRENGTH. Not directly of adverse effect had the heat licked the feet of the cybernetic organism, but it would indubitably serve to enrage whatever sensory information feed to the dangers of the pooled slag underneath of molten nature spreading into wider proportions, easily dwarfing her overall diameters. Taking place within a hasty duration, the monstrous winged lizard directs its breath of watery fire, or molten slag, towards the entity as she has spent further rounds in vain with the power to punch concrete, only to slug the dragon in its face a couple of times, causing a twitch, but otherwise proved fruitless in penetrating its hide. Coincidentally, a spear thrown truest had originally intended for a static positioned eye, instead deflects to the dynamically changed positioning as it grazes against its cheek, leaving behind a scratch on its features. Not even that was enough to strangely enough humour attention from the dragon to the mighty Achilles, fixated over to the cybernetic being instead, scything upward the stream to come bottoms up the mechanical puppet.

The spear deflected away, bouncing off to strangely enough in astronomical chances not within plausibility save probabilities being steep, had once more favored fair Achilles with the spear landing square right by her nearest to the right side. The concrete chipped away from such powerful blows, and the first caused a decent chunk the size of a grown woman's bosom to fall downwind, swallowed by gravity, it hits the dragon against its upper hide. Strangely enough, on its unarmored top, it caused the beast to let loose a screech of pain, as it recoiled back in a leap that covered some several yards away from its original positioning, fast despite its size, with its spanned wings picking up the speed, without ever going too high to hit the roof as there wasn't enough room to fly. This was its resting place, and these bastard mortals disturbed its rest. After a moment of subsiding pain and a bruised top running red with thick ichor of crimson, coagulated and rich with vitality, the dragon braces itself upward into a stand upon its hind legs, baring its front before those that came to do battle against it, armored belly and all, with a height that almost reaches the ceiling, and afterwards, beats its wings into a powerful gust of wind enough to throw cars back right for the agents of VWAT, and as if that wasn't enough, in a fit of being an unsporting entity, loosens another stream of molten slag at the cyborg, the central mass encompassing the hybridized mechanical-married-flesh sapient.

The revived warrior's spear glanced harmlessly off the great beast's armored form, an unfortunate but expected outcome. On the bright side, the solid angle of impact sent the weapon reverberating straight backward into the Greek woman's waiting hand as she sailed through the air. Her next target had initially been the inside of the creature's mouth to take advantage of the softer flesh free of armored scales. However, the dragon's howl of pain as lumps of stone struck its back opened up new avenues.

Without hesitation, Achilles plunged after the retreating dragon, her anger rising with every moment that the demon dared to ignore her presence. Her charge was swiftly cut short though, as the dragon's wings created a mighty gust that send the woman spiraling backward through the air. Righting her posture in midair, the spearwoman found herself flying feet first at her cybernetic comrade.

"Child, hurl me!"

OOC: My apologies for the short post.

Her descent came, smashing into the ground which had now been covered in the slag. She gave another hop to move out of it before continuing with the fire and the the ceiling destruction plan. It would prove to be more difficult, though, as it continued to attack her, forcing her to evade while still blasting the rocks above. With luck, enough of it managed to injure the dragon, causing it to cease attacks and retreat for a bit.

Rest was shortlived, though, as even after firing into the ceiling above where it sat, it began to blow them with a tremendous flap of its wings. She dug her hands into the cement below to brace herself from the wind. It wasn't much good, though, as there was that other woman flying directly towards her. And she wanted to be thrown.

Okay, then.

Raising an arm, she caught the operative around the waist and flung her with as much force as she could (I.E. a lot) directly at the monster's head. The cost of this, though, was being dislodged from the ground. All the better, as it began to breathe its molten breath once again, giving her enough time to grind to a halt with both arms and move her armor into barriers to withstand it. They wouldn't last forever, though, and she'd have to find a way to move. Maybe this really was going to be more challenging than simply finishing a mission.

OOC: Apologies for the long delay. I had to fight a dragon.

IC: The dragon kept rather keen on the little one's machinations, what debris raining down on its hide was averted aside upon its armored head top, bouncing downward and breaking into smaller rubble. The dragon's wings beating against the air in resistance also brought it slightly back with every flap, in a manner of which angling had decreed each rubble hitting the dragon had scathed its back not of any wounds, already sore from the blow as the not-real mechanical abomination continued to taunt the majestic beast with its haughty declaration of malicious intent with each time its tubular weapon spat metal in a blaze of explosion, gunpowder or so they call it these days. It was persistent with its beating of the wings and the simultaneous adjoining of now fire producing from its mouth in temperatures blazing, crackling with heat as it distorted the tunneling, and produced a swirl of haze, different from the slag which now dripped from its mouth.

Each stone blow of debris averted its aim ever so slightly, causing an audable thud against its skull, and yet never any harm aside from its wavering aim, for the dragon's head, as protected as it is with super denseness, was not immune to the likes of physics. Still, ever aiming to melt the metal from the metallic specimen's general being as it continued to protect itself despite being dislodged. Coincidentally though, as the dragon was aiming for STRENGTH, its blaze was spanning wide enough to project itself with Achilles within its infernal path of fire being spat out now. As unfortunate as it was, it meant Achilles was directly moving for the source of heat, being its head, and more specifically, its mouth, which is still aimed towards STRENGTH, with the ancient warrior coincidentally being in its path as well.

Now if only those two had brought more men to assist them on their endeavors, none of whom had sneaked around the dragon's notice as its eyes saw clearest in the narrow tunneling. ALAS, those two did not seek to even remember they had companions, or DID THEY?

With supreme strength, the mechanical child hurled the revived hero through the air just as she had been asked. Rocketing through the air, Achilles struggled to keep her body straight and on target for the great beast's gaping maw. To her great discomfort, her path through the stagnant air of this cavern was filled with the hellish blast of fire and molten slag bursting from the dragon's gullet but it would not be enough to bring an end to her charge this time. Holding her new shield before her, the flames and molten metal washed over its smooth surface and though residual drops and tongues of flame licked over the edge to scald the flesh of her back and legs, the Greek was spared from the full brunt of the dragon's breath. Of course, even with her powerful healing ability, the pain of her burning flesh was great enough that were it not for STR's powerful toss sending her flying through the flaming stream in a moment's notice, Megali doubted she would have been able to withstand it.

Thankfully, she had a reliable ally to assist her with this attack, shortening the time she would be forced to endure the flames before she came within striking range. Exposing her right forearm to the dragon's breath for a moment, Megali hurled her spear with her full might into the monster's open mouth as she flew past its scaled head to land roughly along its back. Though the beast's breath was a powerful weapon, not even it would be able to reduce her weapon to harmless slag in an instant. Though the tip of the spear would likely it superheated during its short flight from her hand, it should have no trouble driving itself into the back of the dragon's throat devoid of armored scales. She'd like to see the winged demon try and spew any more fire while it gagged on its own blood.

Whatever reprieve she had bought would be much appreciated when the ancient Greek took stock of her injuries. In addition to the splatter burns to her back and legs, her right hand and forearm had been burnt to a blackened stump during their brief exposure to the dragon's fire. Having landed on the beast's back, Megali could do little more than hold onto the dragon's wing with her good arm, the heat from her shield's outer surface already emanating through to the interior, as her injuries began to disappear.

While the female agents engaged the dragon more directly, their lantern wielding cohort seemed to have escaped the immediate notice of the target. Though not a perfect soldier by any stretch of the imagination, Sargent Wilhelm had as much American pride as the next VWAT member and he would be damned before he simply sat on his ass and allowed his teammates to fight for him. Abandoning his heavy lantern, Wilhelm made his way along the edge of the room towards the dragon. Unfortunately, his main weapon was a simple submachine gun that would never be able to pierce the dragon's hide. However, what he did have was a love for good old American baseball and a belt of fragmentation grenades. Continuing to advance cautiously towards the monster while Megali and STR distracted it, Wilhelm waited until Megali's latest attack to make his presence known. Removing a grenade from his belt, Wilhelm pulled the pin and let loose with his own fastball special, throwing the explosive straight towards the dragon's mouth. With the timing of STR's own throw, Wilhelm's grenade would not reach the dragon's face until Megali had already passed but if all went well, it would detonate just in time for the monster to gag on a very large, pointy stick.

She had to move. The metal wouldn't hold out much longer, the armor plating having melted through already. The briefest of moments passed as the woman passed between the dragon and herself, cutting off the heat and fire for a few seconds. With her hands already dug into the ground, it was a simple matter to launch forward before the stream could continue on her.

Though she was safe, the hood covering her face was ripped loose and burned to ash by a blast of molten expulsion. The damage to her arms was severe, even though they still held strong. The heat had blasted through and completely fried several of the components necessary for transformation, as well as causing the liquid metal to drip into the magazine rotation chamber. Her fingers took their default shape once again, being unable to fire any more bullets.

Apparently, the other person had decided it was time to make a move, launching a grenade at the monster while the throw had entered its final stages of completion. This would hopefully allow her to move into a more advantageous position, but for now, she was forced to continue launching forward, backwards, side to side, diagonally, and several other directions not yet known by mortal nomenclature in random combinations to avoid the dragon's breath. She could only spare a flung piece of flooring as she tumbled out of the way of a blast, sending it spiraling at the dragon's neck region.

(OOC: For the accounted delay, accounted accounting of a free hit is accounted for, accountedly.)

It came not the problem from the fact that the spear would be reduced to naught but slag. On the contrary, the spear would hold up rather commendably were that the case, but instead, another factor wove itself into the very fabric of the motions consistent with the dragon's own swarthy breathing made of flames. In any other circumstances, the dragon would have come to besmirch the inferior being's face with a fist of its own scaly make coinciding with a blast of flames blowing Achilles back, but instead, overcome with arrogance and a fit of stupidity alike, it was flummoxed by a bout of ignorance of whatever robbery of wits came to claim it so. There was a small pause, a very small one, that single margin of gap between breathes gave Achilles success in her ventures towards causing the winged serpent as much ill fortune as one can. The spear being flung like a missile at its mouth was blown away by the full blasted pressure of the flames, but that was not the problem for the winged dread wyrm at the moment, it was the warrior that registered before as an insect, not making credible progress towards its weakness.

As it thrashed about trying to rid of Achilles, one whom can be very much felt on its back, an explosion of grenade had seen to shrapnels embedding themselves within its throat, lagging its breathing to rasps as the streams came from an explosive tsunami of flames and molten slag in rate, all the way to a fickle and weak stream (albeit still quite hot, merely reduced in quantity to a hose instead of a vast spew). Even then, this was also a contributed factor from the now sudden piece of fitting flung from STRENGTH having caused it to suddenly cease in breathing, if only to gag and clear its throat of contractions. The blow had debilitated its body physically from the throat, however, it had not robbed the serpent's mind.

What with Achilles still on its back, and now the gravity of its situation fully registered to the dragon as its life had come to very clearly be threatened to danger, it rears downward, only to leap upward unto the ceiling. Slamming its back, and letting out a loud growl of agony to the sheer pain felt from smashing against concrete, raining down debris all around it as it acted as an umbrella, with the female warrior of Troy's anathema being the intended pancake to flatten against the ceiling. As for all others? For now, the lack of breath gave pause to any attack on them, if not thanks to the clear teamwork of VWAT. Now if only people back in HQ would work together in this capacity, perhaps problems wouldn't be abundant with their penal populace.

The wound aggravated soreness and discoloration on its thinly skinned back, running red with ichor and syrup of blood, it flowed to its side, if that wasn't obvious enough it was wounded. Even then, its movements flew from fluid, all the way to staggered and limping once it landed to the ground, blowing out an audible gust of wind from its landing on its fours, turning around to keep peeled over STRENGTH's own progress, for till the moment it can resume its fiery breath. Not enough force of air was produced from its shaky landing to throw everyone off their feet, but enough to give consideration of its massive weight and size.

Clinging tightly to the crimson demon's wing with her uninjured arm, the Greek woman focused her efforts on simply maintaining her position while the injuries to her arm and leg healed. Though her spear toss had been in vain, she had finally managed to close the distance to the dragon's unarmored back and her distraction been sufficient to ensure that her allies could inflict further injuries to the monster.

Feeling the sudden dip when the dragon lowered itself to leap upwards, Megali wasted no time in taking a hold of one of her hatchets and hooking the blade around the meaty spine of the monster's great wing. Utilizing the weapon as a makeshift climbing hook, the woman swung herself forward to the underside of the the wing just before the dragon sharply impacted the ceiling. Meeting the wing membrane feet first, Megali pushed off hard to swing herself back up to the flying abominations vulnerable back as gravity once more took hold of them. In the midst of her feat of acrobatics, the Greek pulled her hatchet free of its anchor point on the dragon's wing only to drive the rear spike into the middle of its back, once more hooking herself to her opponent's weak point.

Though her burnt arm was not yet at the peak of health, her body's impressive healing abilities had already restored more than enough functionality for it to effectively wield the sister of the hatchet already held in her uninjured hand. Drawing the second of the twin blades, Megali brought the spiked end down between the beast's shoulder blades before violently pulling it free, attempting to rip loose a chunk of unarmored flesh along with it. "You will submit or die, drakon!" she shouted, having reverted to her native tongue in the heat of the moment without realizing it.

The breath had stopped, and things were beginning to look better. Even so, she was in a very bad spot and unable to use her body to its full potential. The dragon was still more concerned with the person on its back than it was with her. It gave her time to plan, though, ripping up the flooring in chunks to use when it landed.

As the monster smashed to the ground, the shockwave did little. Her body weight, along with the blocks around her, disrupted it from moving her. Turning to face her, the dragon would be met with a large chunk of rock to the face, followed by another, and another just for good measures. She'd continue lobbing the prepared hunks at its body as long as it still moved.

Meanwhile, the proud member of the Wilhelm clan still fought on. Seeing how amazing the woman's ability to recover from damage was, he decided it would be fair enough to capitalize on the dragon's vulnerable back with her. Even while tossing the primed explosion behind the dragon's neck and back area, he was still a little guilty, yelling out, "Jump, girl!" to alert her of the incoming projectile. With any luck, it would blow after she moved, embedding tiny pieces of metal into the already damaged body of the monster. With the tiny person lobbing rocks at its face from the other side, it would have little place to run and little warning to react.

(REJOICE. Late post means you two are also once more successful in your endeavors. Not that it made a difference whether or not the hit connected, as your clever cunning tactic had seen the dragon laid low.)

The dragon bellowed in pain, agonized by each strike of sharp steel against its vulnerable flesh from a woman whose nature remarks itself vague on the Dragonkind, a lamentable fighting style employed by those long dead, now revived in her swarthy wicked hands. It thrashed about and even then, had seen to itself been injured severely so from the grenade blast once the woman disembarked (or choose not to disembark at the oddest of choices) and did her number on its back. The lesser winged wyrm as a result slumped to the ground, its burnt back clearest as its form began to become that of a garbed humanoid in a leathery toga around the red haired other form. Lizard-like and fanged, she glared baleful glares at the two with slit irises, the Drakon now in human form. An oddity amongst her kind, but it would explain why the lesser Drakon had managed to live so long in this era.

Rasping out its sigh, it bade its consciousness gone, and closed its eyes after staring angrily at those that laid it low. At their mercy as no doubt they'd do their worst unto the creature.

(Its fate is in your hands. REJOICE. After your posts, mission ends.)

Continuing to bring the wicked point of her hatchets down on the draconian beast's back, Megali finally paused in her own offensive in response to the verbal warning from her comrade in arms. Having seen his weapon in action already, she had no desire to take the brunt of the blast if she could avoid it. The Greek woman pulled her weapons free of the monster a final time and vaulted back over its hindquarters to escape the grenade blast. Landing in a crouch, she rounded on the creature and brought her shield to bare in time to see it shudder and slump to the ground. Megali remained on guard despite the apparent victory, watching the strange transformation from behind her shield until the reptilian woman finally lost consciousness.

Despite the powerful temptation to declare their victory and bask in hard won glory, Megali continued to err on the side of caution on the off chance that the beast was simply playing some sick game. She brought back her right arm still grasping a bloodstained hatchet and flung the deadly weapon with polished accuracy, causing it to spin through thin air before the blade came to rest in the back of the unconscious girl's skull.

The creature tumbled to the ground, heaps of flooring still left to throw. Unsure of what to do, the tiny cyborg punched one, watching it tumble across the ground. She watched in confusion as the dragon began to crumble away, a woman appearing where it used to be. Tilting her head, she had to wonder what happened. Did the target die? Did it disappear? Was the mission over?

Wilhelm, as well, was very confused as to what was happening. He didn't take to all this fancy magic stuff. He was a real American. Even so, a cute girl was a cute girl, and he could spot one of those easy enough. And being a dragon was, strangely enough, kind of hot. Puns aside, he'd have to act fast, spotting the windup on that hatchet from the immortal lady. Grabbing his gun by the barrel, he moved into the box and took a swing like he was in a M. Night Shyamalan movie. "Hold on there, sonny Jim," he said, waving his improvised bat in the air. "I may just be a simple, country soldier, but I've been doing this for a long time and never saw a transforming dragon thing before. We need to take her back with us. For study." His eyes shifted back and forth at that last part. He wasn't lying, though. He was very much hoping to study her.

Much to her surprise, Achilles' hatchet was deflected before it struck the motionless dragon child by her own ally. Despite Wilhelm's explanation, the Greek woman shifted her remaining weapon to her right arm and stalked towards where the creature had fallen. "I have no quarrel with you and thank you for your aid in felling the drakon..." The hatchet spun once in Achilles' grasp before being pointed towards the baseball player's chest. "But if you stand between me and my prize you will never see home again." Her brow furrowed a bit while she shifted her weight further onto the balls of her feet in preparation for rapid movement depending on the man's answer. The old man called Steeler had sent them here to destroy the monster, not collar and domesticate it. Were it not for her own sizable ego, Achilles might have been able to sympathize with the potential plight of the dragon as a fellow remnant of the past captured and leashed by this group. However, that was not the case and Achilles thoughts instead flashed back to a foolish king attempting to deny her the spoils of war she had justly earned on the Trojan beach. She had not suffered such an insult in the past and had no intention of doing so now.