Beastboy and Deathfang were hurled in different directions from the opposite end of the portal Malchior had hurled them through, both of them crashing hard into the grassy ground, Deathfang smashing into a tree hard enough to knock it over, and Beastboy rolled a good distance before he could properly regain his footing. For a moment, the two of them stared at each other, eyes locked, facial features set in similar vicious expressions.
The Deathfang roared, and his roar neatly split the silence and shattered it into a million pieces, the sheer volume was nearly enough to push Beastboy back. But he'd heard louder stuff in his CD collection, and he stood his ground. In fact...
... he effortlessly slid into the form of a gigantic green T-Rex, standing now only a foot or so away from Deathfang, and returned his roar tenfold right into his face, damn near blasting the great purple werebeast off his feet.
But this did nothing to defer Deathfang, who was incapable of fear (a side-effect of the chemicals, they suppressed that portion of the brain) and charged recklessly forward. Beastboy whirled around and slammed his massive tail into Deathfang, sending the werebeast hurling into the air, howling. He quickly reverted his regular form.
"That won't take him down for long," he thought aloud, crouching down and waiting for Deathfang's return. "I need a plan. Think, Beastboy, think. Every bad guy's got a weakness. Robin said so himself. Too bad this guy's not a real werewolf though. Ah well doesn't matter, haven't got any silver anyway. But man that would be so cool..."
A roar, off in the distance, confirmed that Deathfang was indeed coming... and likely very mad right now.
"... right, right, think. Weakness. Weakness..."
And then, clear as crystal, the answer came to him.
Without pausing to think Beastboy leapt up into the trees, assuming a new form, and all but vanished from the scene seconds before Deathfang came barreling through the foliage, smashing things aside and roaring angrily. He saw no sign of Beastboy, but that meant nothing to the great beast. Pausing, he sniffed the air, and instantly picked up on Beastboy's scent. No matter what form he took, two things always stayed constant. Skin color and scent. With a gleeful grin, Deathfang took off on all fours, running through the forest as fast as he could after Beastboy. And considering the way his body was designed, he could run faster than a cheetah when the mood struck him.
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A green raven swooped down onto the far side of a gorge that separated the woods, a thick river running between them, and reverted into the spandex-clad superhero known as Beastboy. That would buy him some time, Deathfang wouldn't be able to cross such fast-moving water for a while. It wouldn't protect him indefinitely, but it would give him a chance to get ready.
Beastboy was no genius, he himself readily admitted this. But he wasn't quite as dumb as he may have sometimes acted either. His parents had both been scientists, after all, the very tops in their field. And being an animal metamorph had given him a great deal of personal insight into the characteristics of animals. But that wasn't the knowledge he drew on now. He drew on a knowledge he'd all but forgotten about growing up in Jump City. The sort of things he'd needed to know growing up in the wilds of Africa.
Survival training.
A howl off in the horizon confirmed that Beastboy was running out of time, so he set up the last of his preparations and rushed to meet Deathfang moments after he'd crossed the river and shaken off the water from his purple fur like a wet dog. Which, unfortunately, he smelled like. Beastboy said as much, which ticked Deathfang off even more.
Good.
Deathfang roared and lashed out at Beastboy, grabbing up the front of his uniform and hauling him up close, drawing back his other hand into a fist and preparing to smash his skull in. Beastboy slipped gracefully out of his grasp, shifting into the form of a cuttlefish (or tiny squid) and sliding through. A great benefit of not having bones, he'd discovered. He wasted no time in making another transformation into a horned ram as he landed on his feet and shot forward, slamming hard into Deathfang's unprotected stomach and knocking him backwards.
An attack that surely would've knocked down even the most hardiest of normal opponents. But as Deathfang had repeatedly proven, he wasn't your average criminal. He barely felt Beastboy's attack. And he reached down and grabbed up the green-skinned metamorph into his arms and hurled him over his shoulder at a nearby tree. Beastboy barely had time to change into something else before he hit, and he chose the form of a hard-shelled tortoise. He landed on his feet... intact... but a little bruised from his impromptu flight. Despite this, he was grinning.
"That all you got!" he shouted out at Deathfang, who's eyes opened wide in shock. Then narrowed in anger. His fur stood on end, a sure sign he was getting very ticked.
Double good. Beastboy decided to push that last barb in just a bit deeper.
"You're a loser, Adonis! You were a loser when you had that big-time armor and you're twice a loser now! I mean have you seen yourself in a mirror lately!" he taunted. He nearly regretted it when a clawed hand whooshed over his head, nearly giving him a haircut, but he pushed on, even as he took another step back.
... almost there...
"You just can't handle it, you think everything is about strength and power. Well I got news for you, Adonis, so listen up. You may be stronger and you may be faster, but I got one important muscle that's gonna beat you!"
Deathfang, Adonis, whomever he was, was consumed by rage now, fueled by anger, and lashed out, throwing himself bodily at Beastboy in an attempt to tear him to pieces. And there was little doubt he'd succeed...
... now, thought Beastboy...
Beastboy ducked under the attack and actually leapt forward as Deathfang sailed clear over his head, and landed on the ground just behind him. And, more specifically, landed onto a carefully placed tripwire Beastboy had been busy setting up earlier. His features twisted into a look of shock, Deathfang was doubly surprised when a bent over sapling tree snapped forward and slammed him full in the face, sending him hurling through the air. Beastboy had already turned and assumed the form of a great gorilla, and he met Deathfang's impromptu flight with a heavy fist right to his face, stopping him in mid-flight and forcing him into a backflip that left him hard on the ground, flat on his back.
"That one. I may not use it much, but when I do use my brain, look out," said Beastboy smugly, his arms folded across his chest as he reverted back to his humanoid form. "That's one benefit the animal kingdom misses out on." Idly he glanced over to his left, to a pair of cardinals watching the unfolding carnage from a tree branch, unwilling to depart like most animals had done. "No offense," he added for their benefit.
The great werebeast known as Deathfang cried out in pain, but more deeply he cried out in shock as he heard the sound of shattering glass beneath him, and he launched himself up into the air and back onto his feet in seconds, clutching at his back. Beastboy watched him curiously. He hadn't been expecting this. Half of the vials on the back of his belt had shattered, a thick greenish goo had spread everywhere, and more importantly a lot of it had been accidentally pumped into Deathfang's system by the broken glass which had pierced his skin. With a beast's howl of anger that changed into a human's cry of pain, the great beast reverted most painfully to his humanoid form, that of a dark-haired, pale-skinned, Adonis. He was shaking all over, clutching at his still-bleeding back.
"No... no... can't... won't..." he muttered, half to himself and half to Beastboy.
For his own part, the green metamorph wondered what to do next. Adonis seemed pretty banged up, and he was fairly sure he'd won. Plus, it had never been in his nature really to hate someone. He pitied them instead.
He offered out a hand to Adonis. "Come on. We'll get you medical attention."
Adonis glared at him, his eyes conveying such hatred that Beastboy reacted as if slapped. "NO!" shouted Adonis, pushing himself onto his shaking feet. His hands drifted down to his belt. "I won't lose! I am Deathfang! Behold my power, puny man!" and without warning grabbed up two full vials of the bright green serum and injected himself into his arms, not even being delicate about it. One of the needles snapped off inside of his skin, but as the transformation began, Deathfang hardly noticed. In moments, the great purple werebeast again stood before Beastboy, who stepped backwards in fear.
Deathfang gave a mighty roar and lashed out, grabbing Beastboy's head in the palm of his hand as he launched himself forward, knocking them both back along the forest, slamming Beastboy into saplings and eventually knocking them both into the river. Beastboy struggled, slamming his much smaller fists against the great furry beasts' arms, hard but ineffectively, as Deathfang pushed down, forcing him under the water as the two of them were carried along by the current.
Managing to push himself upwards long enough to gain a breath of much needed oxygen, Beastboy was immediately dragged under again, and had to think fast to consider his options. Then an idea came to him, and quickly he shifted to the much smaller form of an eel. Deathfang's grip tightened, he wasn't about to let Beastboy slip away twice, but that was what he'd been counting on.
The type of eel he'd become?
Electric eel, of course.
The roar that followed was nearly deafening but Beastboy savored it like sweet music, as close to a thousand volts of electricity coursed it's way out of his body and into Deathfang. Being in water didn't help him either, he was in the worst possible situation to be electrocuted. Smoke wafted off the water as Deathfang hurled Beastboy away. Deathfang cursed and shot to the surface, growling darkly as he sucked in air. All that electricity hadn't been enough to stop him, Beastboy saw. He was one tough bastard.
Big deal. So was Beastboy.
And Beastboy had another distinct advantage over Deathfang that the great beast, for all his strength and power, had overlooked yet again. And, as they drifted further and further downstream, they were quickly approaching it. Already Beastboy could feel the current growing stronger. Any moment now... yes... up ahead... there were the white rapids... they were nearing the edge of the waterfall now. Beastboy spread his arms, preparing to transform...
... and Deathfang suddenly latched on from behind, shoving him again down and tightening his grip on Beastboy's shoulders. He roared defiantly, and it was only from that sound Beastboy could guess his plan. To carry them both over the edge. If Deathfang couldn't win, he was going to take them both out. His hatred of Beastboy was that strong. And Beastboy was starting to hate him right back, and would've almost been happy to see them both hurled over the edge of the water just to be rid of a menace like him.
Unfortunately, he had other plans. And unlike Deathfang, who'd lived only for vengeance, Beastboy had someone else to live for. People who needed him, people who counted on him. People... like Raven... who even loved him. And he wasn't going to die for this.
He didn't even need to shapeshift this time. He met Deathfang's crimson glare with his own gaze and struck then, using every bit of strength he could call upon as his leg and, more specifically, his knee, shot up with the speed of a torpedo as he kneed Deathfang hard in the most sensitive region of his body. And he did justice to his much larger forms power as Deathfang's eyes opened wide in shock and he instinctively released Beastboy, clutching at his wounded anatomy and gaping like a fish.
"Catch you later!" shouted Beastboy, just as they pitched over the edge of the waterfall.
Beastboy spread his arms and they slid into the graceful wings of a pterodactyl, and he swooped downwards, riding the current of air as he flew up. And Deathfang roared in horror as he fell, fell, fell, plummeting down towards the churning white waters and likely jagged rocks hidden from view beneath them. The fall alone was liable to kill him if nothing else.
Fortunately, such was not his fate.
A pair of taloned feet sunk into Deathfang's furry shoulders and his flight became slowed as Beastboy spread out his wings to their full length, trying to catch as much air as possible. They were falling fast, and he wasn't sure they could make it. But he hadn't gotten to being a hero without trying to save a few lives. Even lives as miserable and worthless as Deathfang's. Even at the cost of his own. And, slowly, they began to arc upwards, and upwards, and finally they managed to pull out of the dive, the purple werebeasts' feet skimmed across the churning waters as Beastboy angled away and landed them in another part of the woods, dropping Deathfang roughly. No sense in being overly chivalrous, after all.
Deathfang rolled onto the ground and did not move as Beastboy dropped down beside him, reverting to his natural shape. Indeed, the beast seemed unconscious, though his wide crimson eyes were open. Staring up at the empty sky. Beastboy quirked a green eyebrow, perplexed. He hadn't hit Deathfang that hard, yet he seemed to be out cold. And, as he watched, his confusion grew, as Deathfang reverted once more into the smaller, spinier form of Adonis. Dark fur became pale flesh. Sharp fangs became blunted teeth. And slit-like red eyes became rounded and glassy as Adonis stared up at the sky and the darkshield beyond it, seemingly comatose.
No chemist himself, Beastboy figured it must've been the serum. Adonis had pumped too much of the deadly stuff into his system and it had overloaded his body, so to speak.
Frowning, the green metamorph reached down and slung Adonis over his back, reverting to the form of a huge green tiger for speed and strength enough to carry his passenger. He needed to get back to Jump City and help his friends, and he took off in the direction of the skyscrapers in the distance. Hoping he wasn't too late.
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Atlas' old stadium.
Originally a football stadium that had been closed down ages ago, it had once been the headquarters of a ruthless and overly competitive robot known as Atlas, the undefeatable machine. Long had been the line of those who had challenged Atlas and lost, human or machine. Until one day when a man who was part of one world and part of another had stepped up to the metallic tyrant and bested him inside of his gladiatorial arena, proving that the true strength lay not in design, but the soul.
This was the battlefield of Brother Blood and Cyborg, who stood regarding one another for a long, quiet time, analyzing one another with their sensors and eyes, looking for weak points, flaws, anything they could use against one another.
Finally, Brother Blood, devoid of all patience (and half fearing that Malchior would slay Raven) charged forward and giving a battle cry as his fists flew through the air at Cyborg, who did his best to parry and dodge the flaming claws and fists. This time, however, he had a fair idea of what he was doing, and his state-of-the-art design allowed him to respond easily as fast as Blood could strike. A calculating, clever smirk never once left his features, and this served only to infuriate Blood further.
"Just what are you smiling about!" shouted Blood in annoyance, lashing out with his leg in a circle kick. Cyborg's arm shot up to block the kick then he lunged forward, two fingers extended, and Brother Blood cried out in psycho-empathic pain as his breastplate was pierced right in the center, exactly where the sterum would be located on a purely flesh-and-blood human. Blood stumbled backwards, clutching his chest, though he felt no real pain from the attack and suffered only a minimum of damage.
"How... how did you do that?" he asked in shock, both of his crimson eyes open wide.
Cyborg could only smirk in response to that. "You and your dad might've read my blueprints... but I am my blueprints," replied the mechanized man. "You may have a few nifty magic tricks up your sleeves but at the core you're just like me... and I know how to beat you."
Blood growled darkly and shot forward, swinging his fists and feet in a deadly series of attacks that would've ripped an ordinary man to pieces. But Cyborg wasn't ordinary, he was extraordinary, and he'd done a thorough study of both himself and what he'd known about how the old Brother Blood had fought, before and after his transformation. He knew every move this pale imitation knew before he made it, and artfully parried, dodged, and even returned a few blows of his own, culminating in one particularly wild swing of Blood's missing him as he dodged aside, and he whirled about and slammed Brother Blood in the backside, sending him down into the ground to eat dirt.
Brother Blood gave a cry of frustration and, predictably, came to his feet, lashing out with a bolt of crimson lightning. Cyborg dodged aside, neatly rolling along the ground and sliding back into a crouch seconds later. Typical. Blood was acting just like his dad... all calm and collected when things were going their way, but they quickly lost their cool when things started to go against them. If anything this Blood was even more quick to anger, as another bolt of lightning proved, and Cyborg dodged aside again, skidding along the ground to come to a stop.
Another blast of lightning came barreling down the way at Cyborg as Blood renewed his relentless attack, determined to crush the mechanized man and rip out his CPU, followed by his heart. With a cry of rage he called up a great blast of his crimson fire and hurled the ball at Cyborg, who wouldn't have been able to dodge out of the way in time. A mighty explosion followed, and great clouds of dust rose as Brother Blood allowed himself to catch his breath, certain his foe had been vanquished.
But to his shock, when the smoke cleared, Cyborg stood there... unharmed!
A steel bar had slid from Cyborg's left arm and expanded outwards like a fan to create a shield, welded into place against his forearm. He'd blocked the attack. Blood could see the edges of the shield were burnt and borderline melted from his fireball, but the being behind it had been virtually untouched. Cyborg's look was grim as he turned to face Brother Blood.
"A little archaic, isn't it?" asked Blood mockingly, indicating the shield.
Cyborg's expression grew darker as Blood unknowingly insulted someone he'd cared about deeply. But he kept himself cool as he reached up behind his back and drew forth the iron broadsword. "Sometimes the old ways are best," he replied, holding out the blade before his opponent. "And frankly it's about time someone went Bronze Age on your ass!"
With a mighty battle cry, Cyborg charged forward, swinging his sword, but Blood was more than amply prepared, and snapped out his hands, catching the blade mere inches from his face. A titanic struggle began, as both of the machines did their best to overpower one another. Alas, they were evenly matched. Still, Cyborg was pleased, it was a damn sight better than he'd fared against Blood in a test of strength last time they'd battled. They were evenly strong now.
But there was a large gap between their actual skill.
Cyborg turned and twisted, slipping the blade from Blood's hands and lashing out, as Blood ducked to avoid decapitation. He countered the second blow with a single hand this time, catching the blade between two steel claws and twisting about, kicking Cyborg full in the chest and knocking him backwards across the stadium, clinging to his weapon. He was on his feet in a few moments, however, and charged forward again, blocking a blast of lightning from Blood's hand with his shield and swinging out with his sword. Brother Blood was ready this time, and filled his hands with crimson fire, determined to catch the blade and melt it into slag. But Cyborg was still one step ahead of his one-time foe, and had feinted, his attack purposefully slashing before Blood, the sword stroke falling short of him by a good few feet. And then, as Blood's guard became open, Cyborg shot out his arm, letting it de-tach from his body, sword in hand, and there came the sharp clang of metal on metal, followed by a lead thud and a cry of agony.
Brother Blood stumbled backwards, clutching his stub of an arm, his twitching mechanical claw lying a few feet away. Sparks flew from his wrist, and he again gave a wail of agony, though in truth he'd felt no real physical pain.
"Arrrrrrggghhh..." he spat out, glaring at Cyborg. Now he could see why his father had thought so highly of him. And had, at the same time, been so infuriated by the metal man. Now he felt the exact same way. "I'll destroy you, Cyborg! I'll melt you down into slag and dip your motherboards in acid!" he vowed darkly.
Cyborg's lifted his own stump of an appendage, allowing his arm and sword to slid back into their respective homes, sheathing the sword back along his back. His shield folded back in on itself and slid back into his arm as he folded both of his metal arms across his broad chest and looked down upon Brother Blood.
"Give up," he said simply.
"Never!"
Brother Blood grabbed up his broken appendage and jammed it into the ground by his claws, holding his stump of an arm over it and filling his other hand with crimson fire, sealing it over the two pieces. He cried out in pain... real, true pain this time... and smoked wafted up from between his fingers, but when he was finished, Cyborg saw it had worked. He'd sealed his hand back into place on his arm. It might've been crude, but it worked. With little else to say between one another, the combatants hurled themselves at one another again, this time lacking the finesse and grace of before, the deft parrying and dodging. No, this time they dug their feet into the ground, lashed out with their fists with the whole bodies behind them. Neither blocked, simply took the blow and returned it with as much force as they were able, determined to bring the other down before they were brought down. The air became alive with the booms and clangs of metal ringing on metal, as blow after bone-shattering blow rained down upon them both, but they both grimly held their ground.
Cyborg reared his mighty fist back for a particularly powerful punch, hoping to end the battle here and now, knock Blood's head clean off his shoulders like a rock-'em-sock-'em robot. Alas, he miscalculated, and the Eighth Blood ducked underneath the blow, immediately slamming his powerful fist up against Cyborg's jaw and sending him reeling backwards, only barely able to keep his balance.
Brother Blood chuckled at this. "You see, Cyborg? I can still win. You have done no better in defeating me than you have my father. And I am far stronger than he," he added, his eyes glowing crimson, lightning crackling around his fingertips.
Cyborg grimly pushed himself upright, brushing imaginary lint off his shoulder. "No... no you're not."
"What?"
"You're not stronger. You're just like your dad was. You can't do anything on your own," replied Cyborg calmly.
"What is this nonsense you are babbling?" growled Brother Blood, his eyes narrowing darkly.
"Blood never did do anything on his own... he relied on powers given to him by his heritage, and he used them to make others do his dirty work. He did the same with my tech," he added, tapping his chest. "'cause he couldn't do it on his own. And now you're doin' the same thing. And that's why you're gonna lose."
Brother Blood seemed on the verge of spitting venom, but calmed himself with a great deal of difficulty, schooling his features into a mask of confidence. "A pretty little motivational speech, Cyborg... but you still can't win."
"I could've won from the moment we stepped into this arena," said Cyborg, lifting up his arms, fists clenched, and pointed them both at Brother Blood. "I held back this particular attack, because there's a high probability it'll kill you." Both of his fists slammed together, and the arms followed suit, his mechanized body effortlessly flowing into some new, strange design. Both of his arms spread and merged, opening up into a sonic cannon, connected directly to his chest.
"Oh please, do not hold back for my sake," said Brother Blood, unimpressed by the design. He held up his own hands, wrists crossed, fingers extended, and opened up the energies of the Blood Legacy, calling into existence a shimmering red force field to protect himself. "Your sonic cannon never could penetrate my father's shields... and mine are far stronger."
A mighty 'rrhhrrrrrr' sound began to emanate from the sonic cannon, and a bright blue glow coalesced from the opening as Cyborg took aim directly at Brother Blood. "Last chance to surrender... I never miss."
"And I never fail!" spat back Blood, infuriated by his offers of surrender.
Cyborg merely smirked. "First time for everything."
Rhhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...
"Your attack will fail, and you will be weakened, and I will destroy you!" vowed Brother Blood, his right eye twitching as he grimly held up his shield.
RHHHHRRRRRRRR...
There's... there's no way I can fail. I am Brother Blood! My bride and I shall destroy the world! It was foretold! This worthless piece of scrap will not stop me from fulfilling my destiny!
RRHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRR.
"Hey Blood!" called out Cyborg over the sounds of his sonic cannon powering up. By now, the blue glow was so intense it filled the entire stadium, even overshadowing the crimson glow of Brother Blood's forcefield. The air literally vibrated with the sound of escaping sonic waves.
"Your daddy ever tell you what an ion amplifier is!"
Oh shit.
Cyborg mentally pulled the trigger.
To describe the attack that followed as massive would have been a dreadful understatement. This was the reason that Cyborg had never used the attack before, it was capable of creating a blast that could bore clear through a mountain and have energy to spare. The ion amplifier only pushed his power to it's absolute limit, and he idly wondered by now if he'd be able to bore a hole through the moon if he happened to point up overhead. To be fair, Brother Blood's shield held up to begin with, and he grimly pushed his power's to their limits as well, determined not to fall. But his power was insufficient compared to Cyborg's. The shield buckled, cracked, and eventually shattered as if it was no more substantial than glass. Brother Blood cried out, screaming a single word as he was hurled backwards. Cyborg couldn't make it out. It could've been "no" or it could've been "father," he honestly couldn't tell, the blast was too intense, and his own circuits were nearly fried by the resounding sonic waves. Fortunately, Cyborg had angled it upwards, so it coasted over the skyscrapers of the city without hitting any and slammed into the darkshield high above. And his new hardware shielded him from his own attack.
Brother Blood collapsed into the stadium seating, having been hurled there by the sheer force of the blast. He was an utter mess, broken, battered, sparking all over from ripped circuits, and very, very unconscious. Half of his metal platings had broken off in the attack or been plain out obliterated, pulverized into dust. Cyborg grimly trudged up to see if he was alright... and was relieved to find that the Eighth Blood still had a pulse, and that his circuits still glowed with life, though they flickered on and off.
Which was good, 'cause unlike Blood, Cyborg had never wanted to be a killer. Even though if anyone so richly deserved death, it was this little bastard lying broken on the ground before him.
Idly, he clenched his fist, and held it over his head.
Winner... Cyborg.
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Author's Notes:
The remark about not using his brain much comes from 'Mad Mod,' where Beastboy freely admits such. His becoming an electric eel (as well as having the power to generate strong electric fields) comes from 'Wavelength.' Poor Adonis's fate mimics that of Batman villain Bane over-dosing on Venom. Atlas's old stadium comes, of course, from 'Only Human,' as does Atlas himself. Cyborgs knowledge of Blood's system, as well as his particular first counter-attack, was taken from 'Wavelength' only turned back on Blood. The sword and shield technique comes from 'Cyborg the Barbarian.' Ion Amplifiers (or at least one of them) come from 'Deception.' Next time: Tamaranian siblings Starfire and Blackfire trade blows, while Raven and Malchior do battle in the Domain of the Mirror.
TDR3RD: Well you know what her mind is like. It makes Batman's mind look downright friendly. Hope you have enjoyed the one-on-one fights so far.
LoCaD: Typo, yes, they appear often in my works. Best just ignore them. Don't think back to the old TT comics, look to the new ones. Recall, this is the 8th Blood, not the 7th. And yes, he does need to survive. But as you can see, well, he didn't win.
Piccolo999: That's weird. Ah well, it's a minor point at least. At least people have stopped complaining that he could be Tim Drake. As for BB, as you can see he had a different trick up his sleeve. Size ain't everything.
Blackbird: Chocolatelover has uploaded her future Raven picture on the deviantart website. I'd provide a link but you know how fanfiction is about those.
Ultimate R-Man: Comethime DOT deviantart DOT com and Chocolatelover DOT deviantart DOT com. Links are hard to provide, you understand, but that should do it. As of this, however, Comet-hime's are not quite complete.
Ray1: To put it mildly, hell yes. Just you wait. They're about to say that a heck of a lot more when they see all the Titan's nifty new tricks.
Yomiori-Wolfdemon: Meh. R-Rated stories are hardly as bad as R-Rated movies. Especially anything of mine. I just put that down so I can insert naughty words. Which most learn by age six these days. Gogo! The schoolgirl flail-wielding chick? You do know she killed a guy 'cause he wanted to sleep with her, right?
Scathac's Warrior: Raven will be giving Malchior everything he deserves... and then some. Believe me, he is totally unprepared for the world of hurt that is coming his way.
ViciousAssassin: Your first theory it seems was correct. Blood never got a chance to enact his own plans. Proving that being too reckless can be a flaw, but so can being too patient. The answer concerning Nightwing, Terra, and the Ravager, is coming. Patience.
Finn Mac Cool: An annoyance I had with old cartoon show superhero teams. The cliché of only facing your chosen arch-enemy. So I often have them trade-off to make it more realistic and fun. More interesting to have strengths and weaknesses against different opponents. As for that... plot holes. I honestly didn't think of it.
Elrohirthewriter: I too would have enjoyed seeing a greater clash between Blood and Malchior, but there wasn't time. I do hope you enjoy the upcoming fight, however. Should be interesting… everyone wants to see it. I hope I can do it justice.
Snea: Well hel-lo… yes yes love you to. Oh don't worry, I always finish my stories. Or die trying.
Anwen: Hehehe. Well here's the next chapter. Because of frequent reviews, I am updating more often. Starfire's gauntlets don't -do- anything but they're symbolic, as you'll find out next chapter. Just like Blackfire's new look.
Todd fan: My head is just full of brilliant scenes. The tricky part is to write a story that actually fits them in realistically. Sadly, I still couldn't fit in the scene where Starfire offers to give Nightwing a bath (the joke, of course, referring to "Can I Keep Him?")
Dragonblond: It is my best to date. My stories always improve over time, and this will undoubtably be my crowning achievement. Just like yours will be once it's finished -hinthint-. Hehe. Thanks for the wonderful review, I've missed them from you.