Doppelganger Busters [Job-arino|Copy and Seenter|

»  After the rather significant time it took for the three eventually find their way to Oak Town from their Guild. Copy and Excalibur had plenty of time to ponder of the means of the job they took, it was ambitious for them- All of them, a B-Rank was always explained to him as the beginning of a mages true trials, what separates them from the rest of the 'fodder'. So he was as eager as he was nervous.

Fast-forward to the inn, and the four had been wandering down the stairs with each heart-beat pumping loudly in their chest that thrummed in sync with their foot-falls to the old wood-steps that lead below. The cellar was eerie to put it lightly, everything had a sort of filthy grime layer too it, the walls were watered down from prolonged existence and the entire area seemed as if it was cast off without care or cause. Such was not the case, but perhaps to alleviate some tensions (or increase them). The sconces that periodically spanned on the walls had torched pre-lit, if anyone were familiar with the visual of them it was easy enough to identify its been well over an hour or two since it was done. However, despite the lighting- The distance of the dark hallway seemed to span far enough to eventually blotch out any sort of visual grasp. As if darkness took hold of it.

When their feet hit the stonework below with an audible 'clack' from his dress-shoes. Rowan had begun to talk without much hesitation, it drew Copy's attention. Excalibur was already exploring, but not going terribly far. The simple observation, Copy deducted was more of a means for Rowan to place reality into the grasp of his understanding and scope of their task. Nothing wrong with that.

He hadn't given power to the comment of the way out. Only placing either hand on his hips and stared down the hall.
"Well. We need to decide which direction we'll be going. Three ways, and with a mission of this caliber I don't suggest we break our forces even a little bit. Basing our actions off intel, I figure we should take one of these doors first- Long ominous hallways in complexes like these often delve deeply. And our main target could be back there; we need to make sure we can handle the rest of their forces first."

While he spoke, his eyes were on Excalibur to make sure he didn't just vanish. Unfortunately, he was like a small, highly-intelligent, moron. Somehow- It was difficult to keep track of him most days. In a place like this, he wasn't eager to lose him.
Once everything was done and said, he turned his attention to Chris "I'll get you to choose a door, the likelihood of combatants after the first door are pretty low. After-wards I'll take the front."

» ”Of course.” Copy thought. Rowan wasn’t the only one with a foot in his mouth, it was Copy after all that initiated the sense of security with the first bloody room. Fate was fickle, today it was looking at them with discerning eyes.

It wisped only a moment’s breath from Copy as the sound of combat, if you call it that- Erupted from the room that they entered. He was still relatively near the stairs, the distance wasn’t anything to sweat to close. And he did so with speed and ferocity necessary. If such power was emitted so soon, he needed to get between the opposition and his allies as fast as he could. Leaving but a small plume of dust behind his foot, his muscles were pumping fast. His stretching would have to happen during battle, as dangerous as that is.

”Excalibur! Get in tow now!”

To some’s surprise, Copy doesn’t often trigger any sort of orders off to Excalibur unless it’s out of actual necessity. And it was reflected with some reluctance, but given some obedience with some bond of understanding, as Excalibur had slipped through the door along with Copy within’ milliseconds.

”Shi no Tamashī! ;死の魂”

Conviction in his voice, Copy’s right arm begun to squirm and thrive a hosting of vine-like tattoos that seemed to creep like living maggots through his flesh and muscle, centric on pulling themselves out in a dark blue-black energy to his palm, it wasn’t a lengthy process- In-fact, the time it took was less than a man necessary to draw a real blade. The weapon itself remained in the dark color as if it were a blade of sheer dark-evil energy, which anyone of his level could sense with little effort- But thankfully, these two knew he wasn’t bad. The second the blade manifested, in it’s almost holy appearance, an eruption of magical energy begun to hiss around the room in a bright blue-white color, in strong contrast to his aura and weapon. Sending crates and barrels flying to the walls and leaving a clear space for the duelists to do just that.

With a grit of his teeth, the aura around his body slowly begun to churn as well- he was making some serious modifications to himself for this. He had too- The aura begun to weakly hue towards a golden-white color that flowed like water and danced like fire. At this point, he pointed the blade at the woman.

”Prepare yourself!”

---

Met with a re-grip of her blade, a foot forwards and a dash towards Copy with a mirage of swings of her blade of light. While it wasn’t initially obvious, Copy had triggered an energy from his weapon and Shinigami to help level their playing field. His speed and strength were remarkable, a drastic amplification that allowed him to wield some flowing strikes to deflect and parry with relative grace and consistency.
Perfect? Not entirely, during this time. He had still been met with the blade of light that scored across his flesh- while very resistant, he was still faced with some strains. Blood and hissing of cauterizing force.
But in his own success. His own blade had swung and clashed with her blade and armor plenty of times; and more than her to him- She was perhaps more physically adept, but Copy had the advantage of being technically armorless- However untrue. With a bit clearer of sight, the others would see that each and every time her blade met with him. Bones of purple energy would grow and dissipate as they clashed to reduce her impact. The two blades-fighters were playing in Copy’s field; and with his allies this would with some careful execution, become their battle to win.

”Now Excalibur!”

---

”Rule #8721! ; ルール＃ -- Overcome thy odds! And fight for your king like a true human!”

Rigged? Absolutely, no one said Excalibur fought fair. And this team was wise enough to discern what they were combatting before they arrived.
And so the room, and then some was met with a wash of golden light. An energy flowed into each one of them and begun to feel a bolstering of energy and power- And to their boon. Their enemy was met with the unfortunate fate of having to be brought down even further below them, closer to that of someone of a D-Rank’s potential.

» It truly was a flash of sparks and energy that flared off from the blades and armor from the two swords-combatants. Drawing sweat and anxiety to Copy, knowing that his foe was a doppelganger, capable of such beyond human movements was trying; it would slowly start to learn from him too- If they let it. His eyes steeled, the trickle of blood and cauterized wounds around his body were a bit of a distraction and a reminder that despite the things deterrents that the three afflicted it with, it kept up.

Only a few moments and dozens of clashed blades. A red hue washed over his body as he felt the sting and burn of his wounds slowly fade; and even less time shot by in his engagement before a cloud flowed onto his enemy. A perk of his ears indicated hearing the instruction from Chris.

"Now!" The thought roared in his mind.

"Rrwwwaagh! Hakai-ryoku!" A burst of energy washed into the blue hue that Rowan had boosted the swordsman with. Funneling through his body, down through the tattoo and eventually to the blade. Increasing it in side to something of a bastard-sword with flaring flickers of energy that flowed in flakes near it.

With a bullet-time moment; his attention to detail had to increase. His enemy slowed heavily and he himself was amplified- If injuring himself in the process, sacrifices had to be made he felt. And so he witnessed with a quick strafe of his body- And the downwards motion of his foes blade. Impacted against the ground beside him; causing a stir and minor explosion of kinetic force firing small pebbles and chunks of stone across the room.
Having adjusted his blade to his right hip, angled towards the ground. It gave him what he needed, force. Shifting his left foot forwards to get as close as he could to the beast, and swung the blade of raw energy and the flowing energy of a shinigami through it (Which wasn't being masked, Copy's magic feels very evil).
Cascading his blade across the chest of the creature, paired with a energy he infused with almost all of his swings. Encouraged the kinetic bursting and wave of aura that flew the opponent further across the room. Granting some modicum of space for his allies. And he himself room to pursue.

Each of his followed strikes were met with the same ferocity from before. But their foe wavered, blood was trickling through the armor and his strikes were landing far more frequently. And he himself was taking few; none of which he didn't merely need to use his aura to deter enough to be considered negligible.

» Perhaps for the best that the lot had taken time to recover. While Copy wasn't necessarily open about what he was, the regeneration would eventually clue people in. As the wounds that crashed through his body were met with metal underneath the skin, still with blood pooled through parts of his dress clothes- He was injured, certainly. But works of energy behind the scenes helped keep him on his feet.

He knew that conservation of energy was going to be key to this mission, so he was glad his reliance on his aura was minimalized, for now.

As Rowna had indicated resting. Copy wiped off some sweat and dug through the debris of the room over to the woman that was victim of the Doppelganger; deigning to pick a knight of her appearance up and brought her to the tavern above; rather than leave her to wither away beneath in the cellars with them.

After some conversation with those atop, he had eventually made his way back downstairs. Gently urging his allies to press forth.

Instead of taking the hint of the door nearest in the room they had conflict; he figured they mays well start delving further. By taking the long darkened out hallway. With the passage of about ten minutes, the lot would have traversed down another lengthy flight of rickety stairs. The sounds of voices emerged in a stifled but audible sense.
The enemies were near; but it was difficult to discern from where, that alone was motion enough for Copy to resume the wielding of his blade that slithered its way out of his tattoos.

"Seems we've got a handful nearby... You lot ready?"

And in the trio; they forgot the fourth. Who was cheerily posted between Copy's legs.

"Always!" Excalibur exclaimed. And their targets silenced themselves...

» It was without a doubt, a entrance to a near rave with the crackling lightning storms of plasma that built into the roof above and crashed down in bursts of erratic and destructive bolts. He thought it couldn't get any worse; but with the realization of just how many enemies were actually present in the room. He had to shove a foot in his mouth; and perhaps reveal something a little unusual to his allies.

His allies close behind, he figured. As the blade was held to his side and prepared; his enemies had some indication of their presence prior, but not to the degree of their entrance which worked in their favor. As Copy was granted enough time to get into the room to make his entry a bit more effective. Only with the occasional deflection of blade or the shield tinging away brushes of magic.

In  the hurl of energy and screams. Copy emerged with his own shout-
"Bullet Rain!" An effective riot control technique he learned through his draconic-slaying magic. With a path having been cleared behind him for his allies; it had zoned the enemies to be in a range that could be targeted without affecting his allies. By firing out a handful of metallic objects from his body. Each one begun to shrapnel themselves and regenerate slowly; firing flaks upon the hordes of enemies. Impaling them with vicious chunks of metal and forcing a spray of blood that coated around the room. It wasn't necessarily a pleasant sight, but the four weren't in the position to make choices of pleasantries.

Perhaps what was most intriguing. Is the metallic components continued to fire like machine guns and didn't seem to be letting up for some time. (2 Rounds)