Ch.1: Episodes 9 – Masks
Ver.1
Robin bent his knees and leaped through the smoke. Gradually, it began fading but his feet landed on the hard surface of the rooftop. Any second wasted could be deadly. It could mean that his target might get away with it, again. And as one of this city's keepers, the fearless leader of the known teen superhero elite team, the Titans, he wouldn't have that on his watch. Not without a fight.
At first, the distance between them wasn't that great. Slade however, widened it with ease, bouncing between one skyscraper to another, like he was simply climbing the stairs to the local coffee shop. Without any interference of some sort, the young hero couldn't ensure that he'll be able to keep up the pace. During motion, he threw a Birdarang aimed for his head, but Slade sensed it approaching. He tilted on his heels and turned around, cutting it in half with nothing but his bare hand. Then, both of them exchanged short glances to one another, as Slade continued running, bouncing broadly to his next destination and provoking him to follow his lead.
Robin could stand there and calculate whether could he make that jump or not all day long, but Slade wouldn't wait for him to do so. Automatically, he took a few steps back and run as fast as he could, and as close as his legs could get him towards the edge. Then he jumped. There was no time, so he did it without paying it a second thought. While doing so, he could feel the gravity defied as the air puffed his cape higher than his head. His bare state and feet, until they reached the ground again with a front flip.
"Careful," Slade said. "I wouldn't want you getting hurt."
"I'm not the one who's going to get hurt. Now hand the chips over." Robin replied, outstretching his hand towards his direction.
Slade however, seemed to have other plans and made no move in order to do so.
"Robin," he called, almost surprised but not quite. "I thought we had a deal."
Slade started circling him, and Robin made no move to cut this formation but went along with it. Their muscles began tensing, aching for an intense exchanging of fists and kicks. However, each of them maintained a careful measure, examining the other first. Waiting patiently for him to make his first move before making their own.
"Sorry, but I have a strict rule against giving stolen technology to psychos."
"How very noble of you. But stealing in order to trap me? That wasn't so noble. Two wrong don't make a-"
"Don't ever lecture me!" Hot blooded boiled in his ears. Robin couldn't resist the urge to yell at him. "Whatever you're planning Slade, it's over."
"On the contrary Robin, it's just begun."
That was it. They both run towards one another, kicking and dodging each other's moves. Waiting for the right time to make a punch finally connect to its target, Slade found that opportunity first. He kicked him so hard, that Robin didn't land on the floor in one hit. His all body rolled all over it, curling to its self and screaming in sheer pain. That was already out of the script, but it gotten worse when he didn't get up.
"Kat!" The director yelled.
At his command, all of the photographers stopped filming instantly. The backstage workers pulled the night city background by their ropes, leaving the stage almost empty besides a few microphones and decorations. Slade approached Robin slowly, which still didn't show any sign of recovering or at least trying to pull himself up.
"You mother fuck-" Robin cursed and gasped, pressing his hand against a very specific area around his tights. "Hope you get run over by Cinderblo- ugh!"
"What seems to be the problem Dick?" Slade asked patiently, like the only sane adult in this cast should've talked. It took all of his will power not to kick the snotty kid again, who thinks he's a hot shot only because the female viewers like him. As he waited for Dick's reply, he grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to his feet gently but efficiently.
"What seems to be the problem? What seems to be the problem?!" Robin jerked his body to the side drastically and poked Slade's chest angrily. "You do what you want, you don't even follow your script!"
"Sure I do," Slade replied immediately to his defense. One of the workers handed him the script that he'd left on the table earlier. "Look, it says 'kick in the balls'." He pointed at the right paragraph.
"What? Let me see that."
Robin didn't wait for him to give it to him, but took it by himself instead. "What's this? He asked, noticing some weird stains painted over the letters. Making the 'R' look similar to a 'B' as the rest of the word was almost erased completely, apart from the 'S' by the end. Sliding his finger across it, something stuck to his glove as the word had been revealed completely.
"There, it says kick in the ribs."
Slade stared at it over his shoulder. "Oh, my mistake." He used an apologizing tone.
"What is this material anyway?" Robin asked more to himself than to Slade and tasted it. His all body shivered by the awful, familiar taste of fake meat under his tongue. Then he started calling, "Beast Boy. Beast Boy!" No reply. "Garfield!"
At that, a few hasty strides approached his way. Beast Boy stopped right in front of him and gave him a questioning look, mixed with a slight anger. His lower half was covered by a pink towel and his head was covered by a floral bath cap.
"Duuude! What is it? I was right in the middle of my-"
"What did I tell you about eating during photo shoots?"
"Don't do it." Beast boy answered, a little ashamed.
Robin sighted and shoved the script to Beast Boy's face. Making him fall over the floor and search for a way to turn his light back on. He was left to deal with it all on his own as Robin stepped back on the stage that was ready for another shoot. Slade followed his lead and positioned himself again.
"I don't get paid enough for this." Robin sighted and stood in front of him, catching his fighting stance.
"Come on, let's continue where we left off." The direction announced. "Three… Two… One…"
Their intense spats continued. Robin and Slade yet again try to land a hit, but missing some of them by a split second to make it seem believable. Then, when the part where they left off finally came, Slade found the right opportunity yet again and kicked Robin firmly in his ribs.
Robin fell over the ground, shouting and cursing again.
"Kat…" The director let out a sight.
Slade watched Robin writhing in pain from above, asking, "You're a real sissy aren't you?"