"Damn children!" Sportsmaster cursed. Proxy stopped chewing on Wally's arm long enough to look. Its fangs were stained with Wally's blood, its eyes swimming in repugnance in regard of the spandex clad teenagers that stood before him. He barked, and the group of two behind him followed suit with their own base only battle songs, except even together they weren't as thundering as Proxy's lead vocals.
They looked to proxy, than Kid in unison. He was only half conscious, but he thought he'd seen sadness on their faces, which only multiplied the pain he was feeling already. It was his fault this was happening, that he was careless enough to get attacked and let them down by pratically surrendering the whole importance of the mission to Sportsmaster! For losing. He always lost; Gail Manners, Nathalia, it never ends. He had a feeling it never would, and this-this mission and this life chose of his- wasn't an exception. It was a mistake.
"Proxy, Loki, Talon, Attack!" Sportsmaster commanded. Proxy leapt from Wally's chest and started toward the latecomers with a not-so-welcoming smile. It began snarling louder, but it does nothing to unhinge the requital looks of the team one bit.
Once Proxy's weight had lifted, Wally rolled onto his side, taking greedy breaths of air, choking on it like an asthmatic. He got on all fours, his knees squishing into the moist dirt, wet from the rain, no duh. He looked up to see the masked sportsmaster standing over him, hands fisted tight to his sides. Eyes flicking around behind the oval eyeholes, searching, watching in disgust. Muttering under his breath, one of his green eye twitched up when he found Wally crawling unknowingly at his feet. He leaned over and pinned Wally's head to the ground. He slid deep into the mud, his mouth agape, giving the dirt invitation to crawled in and coat his teeth with grass blades and loose weeds. Man this guy just would not give him a break. As if it wasn't bad enough he sicced his dogs on him?
Sideways, He saw his team figthing off the dogs. Megan using her telepathic powers to levitate stones and toppled tree trunks to bandy the dogs with. He could see kaldur weilding his water bearers , and Artemis fend off killian with her long bow, gripping the arch of it like a curved and deadly wooden sword. He couldn't see Robin, or Superboy, which made his heart sink, because he hadn't seen Proxy there either.
Sportsmaster bent slowly over to whisper in Wally's frigid ear. Sporty's breath had death like grip on Wally's slipping attention, like something evil was coming over him and willing him to listen, and listen well. "Isn't it cute, Kiddie, they came to your rescue." He laughed, but stopped not a second after. He pushed harder on Wally's head, receiving a hack and cough from the red-head as he went deeper into the mud mattress. He wondered if Sportsmaster would be to busy acting "Vilanous" to notice his victim was drowning. Striking fear into drown victim is going to be a little hard, sportsy, if the man even noticed before then. "Too bad, though, they didn't catch the big bad Sportsmaster, huh? Not in time, anyway." He lifted wally by his hair and threw him onto his back, hard. The grass was cold against his neck, and Sportsmaster continued to gripped his hair unyiedlingly, pushing down still, making his head sink into the mud deeper and deeper and deeper.
desperately, Wally clawed at the country bumpkin caper with both hands, ripping at his coat sleeve. It didn't do much to feign Sportsmaster bullheadedness, but only speed up his undesired trip to china. He clenched his mouth shut, trying not to swallow the mud that had already managed to passed his lips and into his mouth.
Sportsmaster reached into his utility belt and came up with a shiny black pistol, no doubts that Sportsmaster had polished it obsessively. Intricate details etched in every nook and cranny of the small black gun; curling shapes, triangular triplets on the barrels with squiggly circles in the middle and squares bordering the outsides. Two Cs were carved into the top of the grip, upside down, like it was frowning at him. "Well look who showed up. My good friend Eddie Brown," He drew out Eddie Brown, like a climatic moment in the script of Wally's life. He lowered the gun to wally's face, putting the barrel to the cracked and crooked lense of his new goggles. "He's going to see you off."
BANG!