Seras vs James - Sinner vs Saint

(I will use this as my RP sample for my Seras app)

Evening. Dry. Some dock along the Thames, all greys and artificial reds and blues of cargo containers liens neatly up to block any meaningful view. Even across the water the was nothing of particular interest. Someone climbed out of the water in a diving suit, carrying scientific equipment. A water flow analyst? They were gone before Seras could reach a conclusion, and she supposed it didn't matter much anyway. That was the human world, of science and progress. Her world was stasis.

She grinned self-consciously. Since when did she get poetic? She supposed anyone would stop and wonder about their own existence when there was nothing interesting to look at. That was human experience: everything had to be present and exciting, otherwise what's the point? If that meant there was some humanity left in her, she was happy. So there she sat, smiling, legs dangling over the side of a cargo container, revolver tucked under her belt. Her job was to watch, listen, and report her findings. Hellsing had a suspicion that vampires were using this dock to smuggle human 'cattle' throughout London.

James St.Michael was becoming aware of the Vampire with each step he took, the priest was humming a little tune as he got onto the waterfront; three Iscariot agents were with him but they were there to help secure the area and to keep people away and were under strict orders not to get involved under any circumstance. That wouldn’t be a problem; they were at the edges of the dock area so as to be away from the fighting. He sucked in the lukewarm air, pollutants filling his lungs though his supernatural nature kept him safe. Gazing out through the containers at the sound of a noise, he carried on walking once he had decided it was merely a boat, the sound of its prow carving up the water like a Christmas turkey putting him at ease.

Spotting the one known as Seras Victoria he stopped, his hands keeping away from his swords and daggers as he moved slowly towards her, he was an unknown, and since this was the first mission he’d had away from Italy in decades he was confident she’d underestimate his skills. “Leave here now Seras Victoria, this area is being looked into by Section XIII of the Vatican, Iscariot!” he bellowed, his voice roaring above the distant sound of the working man.

Seras squinted faintly, her nose wrinkling, sniffing the air. Smell, sight, and sound should have been obsolete to the yellow-haired huntress's Third Eye, but human habits died hard. Her blue eyes trailed slowly downwards and to the side, and she crossed her arms under her breasts, looking poutily at the Vatican agent.
"Why are you here? she asked, dropping from the container and landing in a crouch, before slowly extending back to her full height. "This is England. I thought we had a 'mind our own business' thing going." Seras made no attempt to hide the revolver that was under her belt, but she didn't try to draw it, either. "And...and keep your voice down! They might hear us..."

Smiling at the Vampiric agent, James lowered his voice “I’m sorry vampire, I suppose that you’re right, unluckily for Hellsing however they sent a Vampire and I’m sorry to say that means conflict is inevitable now…” his voice had a hint of melancholy to it though his expression became neutral. “I suppose that this is the chance you try to ah, rip me to pieces?” his tone became neutral, edged with ice. Taking a few more paces, the living Saint stopped in his tracks when he was ten paces away from his quarry; his knife flashed into his hands while his short swords were left untouched for the moment, it was time to see if he had gotten rusty and how the evolution of the Damned had proceeded in his long absence. “Well then, come on and show me what you can do”

Faltering in her pouty expression, Seras's face turned slowly to apprehension, then a fighting glare. "If that's how you want it..." she murmured, feet shuffling apart, bending slightly in a defensive stance. Her fingers trailed down over the front of her uniform until they hooked around her revolver's grip, sliding it from her belt and holding it at a downward angle, not quite pointed at James. "But I can't go easy on you. I know how dangerous you people are..."
With that said, her gun flashed upwards, and she pulled the trigger. At James's feet, the bullet dug a chunk out of the concrete. Though Seras didn't plan on being merciful, she couldn't just shoot a man dead without reason. "Ah...ah...come on..!"

Not even flinching at the shot that splintered the concrete at his feet, the saint instead tutted “Don’t use that, I thought we were trying to keep discreet, let’s face it guns draw attention and will bring the police in with all that attention.” Speaking softly to her he passed the knife from hand to hand, it had a gnarled handle that was due for some refurbishment but to him it was as perfect as the day he got it; the blade glinting in the moonlight.

He exhaled, his left shoulder seemed to blur for a second, then a long bending blade burst out, whipping around to try and dig into Seras’ side while a thin and extremely dense tentacle-like structure burst out from his right knee to wrap around his quarry’s thigh. James gave her a grim look of almost pity, but his heart had hardened; suffer not the Demonic to live he thought as the words of his father came to mind.

Seras yelped in surprise and disgust when the Iscariot's very skeletal structure warped itself into weaponry. Damn it... He was forcing her not to use weapons, while using his own body as a weapon. That...that wasn't fair! Twisting to the side, Seras pushed the bending blade downwards with both gloved palms, hoping to snap it and James's shoulder at the same time. But she allowed the tendril to loop around her leg, using her momentum to continue spinning, whirling her leg around it a wide circle, hoping to yank the shapeshifting Vatican Agent off his feet and slam him into the ground!

"What is this!?" she panted as she moved, the strange structure making her thigh sting immensely. "What are you?"

As soon as Seras turned her attention to trying to break his blade and the shoulder, James lifted her off the ground by her thigh; the paleness of the skin making the reddening reaction all the more obvious. He managed to stay on his feet but her struggling almost knocked him down before he got her feet off the ground and her leverage gone so as she couldn’t use all her strength in the struggle. His brow furrowed at the concentration, and then he shot for her heart, his sand quota filled as he released a long and razor thin straight sand spear from his free shoulder. It was moving at full speed, and the short distance would hopefully make it harder to block. Meanwhile his attack at her side was still struggling, trying to shake free and carry on its path to try and bisect the heathen. "I'm sorry..."

Seras was in trouble, and she knew it. There was no room for subtlety. If the police caught on, Hellsing would have to disguise it as a gang war, and that would be that. Dangling precariously in the divine sand's grip, struggling to stay upright, Seras pointed the revolver directly at the Iscariot's forehead - but then a long spear shot towards her chest, and raw instinct took over. Her hand whipped down, and the spear went right through her gun's trigger guard. Before it could reach her chest, she twisted the revolver sharply, snapping the sand construct in half. Only then could she lift her free knee right into James's jaw, hoping to break his skull!

The spear dropped, James’ head snapped to the side from the force of the kick but turning his head reduced its seriousness though the pain was still there and the wound itself was still quite bad. His eyes remained open however, and despite the fact he was one regeneration down he was still in control. His jaw popped back into place and as the kick finished the boot still in contact with his jaw line; his jaw gave away as more sand went to wrap itself around the foot. His hand whipped around, going to plunge the blessed dagger into her leg with great fury.

In the meantime his burning grip on her thigh tightened; though the best part was that her other hand which held the blade in place would be met with a surprise. Grinning inside he made the blade give away into a more malleable form, moving to tighten and to grip her other limb while she was occupied with the results of her kick.

Seras flailed madly when she saw the constriction tightening around her poor limbs. Both legs were trapped by James's sand, burning, in agony; and there was about to be a lot more if she didn't do something to stop that knife. Yelling in anguish, she pointed her revolver down between her legs and shot at his hand, hoping to blow it to pieces, not caring about the bindings around three of her four limbs. He wouldn't get the fourth. She wouldn't give him a chance.