A Collab of Alphabetical Proportions
A/N: Hi. Sorry for being late. Again. BUT! We should hopefully be caught up by the end of the night.
Takes place at some random fight somewhere… It doesn't really matter.
Disclaimer: …I give up.
U is for: Underdog
Iggy felt a fist connect to his face. He head snapped sideways; his nose started gushing blood. He threw a retaliatory punch, but missed.
"Can't hurt me, blind freak," the Eraser grunted, buffeting Iggy with the gusts from his enormous wings.
"'Cuz you're definitely not a freak yourself," Iggy snapped, and aimed a round house kick at the Eraser's chest, based on the direction of his voice and wing-flaps. He misjudged the distance, but still heard a satisfying crunch as his foot connected with the Eraser's hairy, muscled upper arm.
The Eraser howled. "You blind - !" he screamed, his voice cracking in rage. Spittle splattered across Iggy's face.
A blow to his stomach knocked the wind out of him, and he dropped several feet as he automatically curled himself in for protection. The Eraser fell with more precision, his foot connecting with the top of Iggy's head. Pain erupted in his skull; stars bloomed before his eyes. He swung another kick desperately and felt several hollow bones snapping, feathers crumpling. The eraser screeched in pain, a screech that faded as he fell from the sky…
Iggy hovered for a moment, panting, his nose still dripping blood, sightlessly glaring at his disappearing enemy. "I am no longer the underdog," he muttered furiously, before winging back upward to rejoin the fight.
A/N: Hey, I didn't think that turned out too bad. I strayed a little from the original underdog idea, so that part was a bit weird, but overall it didn't suck. I think.
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