Mansion on the old hill [Ballroom][EVENT]

Woran’s body flickered through the air, contorting and twisting rapidly as the Tuffle prodigy dodged tentacle after fleshy tentacle, just barely managing to keep ahead of the unholy abomination. Normally, the Tuffle would have torn the strange house asunder with a wave of pure energy and would have been done with it, but this was no ordinary encounter. Not only had the Guardian armor been stripped from him somehow, vastly reducing his combat effectiveness, but the nanomachines in his bloodstream, which boosted his physical prowess enough to allow him to operate the armor effectively, had been sabotaged somehow. 

The Tuffle took a half-step backward, narrowly avoiding a particularly vicious swipe aimed at his chest, his left hand desperately clawing at a pouch on his belt while his right bunched into a fist, countering a second fleshy swipe with a powerful strike! Woran breathed an inward sigh of relief as he managed to extract a strange device from his belt, quickly turning it on and pressing it to his arm. He grimaced at the readings, rapidly pressing a few buttons as he continued to dodge. Just as I thought, my enhancements are only operating at ¼ of their usual capacity, and any attempt at me raising the threshold is countered by some strange energy. What the hell is going on?

Unfortunately, the Tuffle’s ruminations were rather rudely interrupted by his surroundings. Woran had grown far too distracted by the readings playing out across the small screen of his  analyzer, allowing a tentacle to slip through his guard and slap him bodily into the floor of the strange house. The Tuffle genius felt his ribs crack under the immense pressure, pressure that his sabotaged enhancements simply could not compensate for. It was all Woran could do to keep the tentacle from pushing him farther into the fleshy floor, from taking him to wherever this abomination wanted to. Even as he fought, he could hear the war cries and screams, especially those of a Sayian seemingly going berserk, resounding in his ears, as the house seemed to be slowly overwhelming everyone else in the building. Is this how I die? Not to PTO secret police or soldiers, but to some house that doesn’t even follow basic science? I can’t! I have so much to do! He thought desperately, even as his weakened body fought desperately against it’s inevitable fate…..

Then, just when he had almost succumbed to the pressure, Woran felt a spark of energy surge through his system, fleeting, but extremely powerful. Then a wave of energy coursed through his body as the strange interference vanished like a blow-out candle as Woran came fully awake once more.

With a shout, Woran channeled enough energy through his arms to reduce even the tough flesh of the tentacle to component atoms in a matter of heartbeats, freeing him from his predicament. From there, it was a simple matter to erect a hasty particle shield around his body, protecting him from any further attack. The Tuffle rose to his feet once more, staring up at the celling of the room. If he could just hit the roof of this abomination with enough power, perhaps he could create a breach large enough for him to escape through, but that would require the Guardian to pull off, there was no way that his mere flesh could handle energy output of that magnitude, let alone generate it.

As if on cue, Woran heard a rumble begin behind him, a sound that grew to ear-splitting volume as the wall of the house glowed red with heat. A shadow of a grin touched the Tuffle’s face, before he spreading his arms and legs wide, waiting.

Woran’s battle suit burst through the wall of the house like a hot knife through butter, covered in all manner of fried viscera from it’s violent journey back towards it’s master. The suit mimicked Woran’s posture, even as the front of the battlesuit opened, allowing the suit to easily wrap around Woran and encase him within it once more. 

Pushing aside his happiness at his life’s work returning to him, Woran began to focus energy into the palms of his suit, before firing a large column of energy towards the fleshy ceiling. The Tuffle frowned as he watched the progress of the beam, and how the house was somehow regenerating it’s structure faster then the suit could burn through it. “A.I.I.A, overclock the reactor to 600% and focus all power into the repulsors please.” The Tuffle said calmly. Almost instantly, the artificial intelligence complied, and Woran’s blast was multiplied in size and power, easily ripping a large hole through the ceiling and allowing Woran to quickly fly through the hole and escape.