Disclaimer:Oh...wow...I just realized....I don't own the Teen Titans!
Titans on the Run!
Chapter 9: Fight
Song of the Chapter: White Knuckle Ride by Rancid
The moon hung low over a muggy Jump City. Having absorbed the heat of the summer sun, the city reciprocated by returning it through the miles of concrete and asphalt that snaked throughout the area, giving the night a hot and bothered feel. The citizens took notice, as many of them were on the front porches and fire escapes, beating the heat.
People walked the streets freely, enjoying the company the company of others in the dark heat of the evening. Being too in hot in the thick of the day, evening became the favored portion of the day. As the night progressed, the heat died down to agreeable warmth and the populous meandered back into their homes. The night had fully conquered the city, as the heat from the day faded into an almost alien chill that clung to the air lightly, assaulting those still clad in summer garments.
It was here, that a figure stood on the roof of a building in the industrial sector, calmly watching the headlights of cars move through the twisted steel of the bridge. For twenty minutes he stood still. When the twenty-first minute ticked by, he turned his attention to the building across the street from his position.
Twelve dark figures quickly sprinted to the complex; a small, metallic ore refinery. Forcing their way through the doors, they moved swiftly inside, clearly knowing the layout of the building and what they were to do.
Observing this, the watcher on the roof turned his attention back to the bridge. Mentally, he counted six minutes.
When he didn't see twelve shadows exit the factory, he grew concerned.
"What do you think happened to them?" He queried to the darkness.
Whirling around, He countered a spinning-heel kick from what looked like a portion of the shadow itself. Not wanting to leave this situation to fate, he went on the offensive. Charging with his pole drawn, he swung deftly, ultimately aiming for the legs. This was wise, but not effective as the assailant caught the staff in one hand, and snapped it over his knee.
Seeing this, Slade abandoned this plan of attack and obliged his foe with hand-to-hand combat. Crouched in a fighting posture, He sized up his opponent and prepared to clash again.
Dashing forwards, he threw a kick to the ribcage. Missing, he took a step back to spin on the heel of his back foot, in anticipation of a crossing punch to the jaw, to deliver a roundhouse kick to the other half of the ribcage. Making contact, he heard a hearty grunt from form his assailant. Before he could follow it up, he lost his footing, and was flung to the ground by his foe grabbing his leg and spinning into the direction of the kick.
Not wanting to present an opening, he sprang from his prone position with a sweep that was dodged by stamping on his ankle at the last second. Seeing his chance, he flipped himself and attacked with a pushing kick, sending his enemy staggering backwards. Using the momentum from the kick, the assailant back flipped atop a utility shed. Relentlessly, the shadow pounced, driving Slade to the ground.
Picking himself up, he attacked again. Except when he charged this time, he dodged to his right, before his attacker could react. Gaining a split- second window, Slade threw another kick to the side of his assailant, ready to react if he parried. Seeing his desired outcome, he threw a punch to the solar plexus, hoping his foe would not notice their cornered position as he readied himself for another assault. Striking the midsection, he struck again, and again. He landed eight punches before he felt his own midsection explode in pain.
Sliding along the ground, he felt himself for any broken ribs and noticed two footprints on his upper torso.
Shaking this off, he readied himself for the next attack, only to be met with a rising cloud of smoke.
Before he could react, a tightening sensation snared his ankles. Feeling again the loss of his footing, he caught hold of a nearby, exposed steam duct before the grappling hook dragged him across the rooftop by his constricted feet.
Anticipating the outcome of his situation, He produced a blade to free himself. Cutting the ropes, he grabbed the receding cord and pulled, reveling his adversary from the obscuring shadows.
Clenching his fist, Slade regained his composure, and returned to his earlier position of observation. His opponent for this nocturnal skirmish faded calm and soundlessly, returning to the depths of the shadows.
He didn't flinch when the factory erupted in a vicious explosion.
AN: Where to start? Well, apologies for the length. There's more to come, I assure you. This was just a little respite from our traveling Titans. Thank you to anyone who's read. I know I say it a lot sometimes, but if you've taken time away from you busy lives to read ramblings from a madman, you're my hero! Now, on to messages from my favorite people:
KeLLy BeaNz: Yeah. Although I find writing about him (or rather, through him) difficult, he's definitely grown as a stand-alone character. (As opposed to his BTAS days. Batman's so incredible, but now it's time to move on.) Thanks so much for reading!
linkinfreak1011: Man...Yeah I've had that problem before...You get a paper back from the teacher, and I looks like she stabbed it with a knife...(correcting with a red pen)....Yes, having received many a bloody term paper back, I appreciate good grammar and style. Yeah, I've read Johnny, the Homicidal Maniac! Jhonen Vasquez is skillful. Jhonen Vasquez is a freak. Jhonen Vasquez is a skillful freak. And Raven's shoe size is...
Author is pelted by various household objects, then flattened by mysterious flying couch
Jeez...I tell you later.Thanks!
Human Lightshow: Meh...don't be embarrassed...Yeah, fic writing is generally a female pastime, I've noticed. So naturally, you would assume that I was a girl. Think nothing of it. Thanks!
RobinRox13: With friends like that... August you say? Keep me posted. The first step is always the hardest!
Thanks again and stay tuned. Later!