190. The Earth Must Bleed part 5
DING
SWOOOOOSH!
I streaked towards Katarou. Myrkblade dragging. Sparks flying up from the metal slab floor.
Skkkkkrrttt!
"Rghhh!" Katarou twirled his staff over his head then brought it—two handed—swinging low and wide at my blurring feet.
I vaulted upwards, arms out like a crucifix, forward flipped, and came divebombing down with my feet first. I landed down so close to his rear that our backs almost touched. I brought a metal left arm back, grabbed around his neck in a reverse choke hold, and flung him over my shoulder.
THWOOSH!
CLANG! "OOF!" he landed upside down against the metal cage wall and slumped to the ground.
A roar of the crowd and a flashing of the lights.
Katarou struggled up to his knees, wincing. He looked up at me. Almond eyes thin.
I smiled. I twirled Myrkblade—Th-Th-Thwish!—into a pose. Floodlights glinted off my obsidian goggles. And I smirked.
"Mmmm….," Katarou exhaled. A slight smile as he lifted one knee and planted his foot down. "…I thank you for waking me up." FWOOOOSH! He was upon me.
I lifted Myrkblade vertically to meet his jabbing staff.
CLANG!
He slid his staff between me and my blade and yanked down.
My right arm went with the hilt and I teetered forward.
He pivoted his body and brought an elbow towards my face. THWOOOSH!
I ducked my head instinctively.
"Hah!" expecting that, he caught my cranium under his right arm. With a flurry of legs, he backflipped his body and spun me by the fulcrum of my head caught under his right limb.
I was thrown across the caged area, spinning horizontally in a dizzying fashion. With a pulse of murk, I uprighted myself just in time to land in a dusty slide towards the side of the cage.
Katarou was already charging me with a heavy swing of Myrkblade.
From my near-leg-split of a crouch, I swung Myrkblade up.
CLANG!
Sparks flew as Katarou's grip of his weapon jerked up towards the ceiling. His body jolted and his legs spread.
I took a breath and rolled forward, tumbled between his legs, jumped up on the other side, leapt high in the air, spun, and slingshotted Myrkblade at him like a projectile.
THWACK!
The wooden sword slammed against his backside and bounced back at me.
"Augh!" Katarou stumbled forward.
I caught Myrkblade on its rebound, backflipped, planted my feet into the bars of the cage, and pulsed murk so that I dove straight at the opponent's rear with the broadside of Myrkblade swinging.
WHACK!
Katarou tumbled across the ground from the impact like a ragdoll. "Mmpph!"
I landed, rolled, and got up slowly into a panting stance. Teeth gritting.
Cheers and boos from the crowd.
Chaos from the crackling speakers and the flashing lights.
"Wow! Would you look at that fight! Our new challenger is a tricky one, isn't he folks!"
Katarou struggled to get up. Sweating. He glared at me.
"You…," he hissed. "You are most annoying…."
I smiled, gripping Myrkblade.
And you are most screwed.
There was then a voice in my ear. Supplied by an electronic speaker planted in a concealed fashion. In crackling clarity, the Messenger spoke to me from some aloof location.
'That's it, Noir. Just keep egging him on. ROTTEN egging him!'
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Somewhere in the surging crowd, an asian teenager with green highlights sat shadowed and smiling. He spoke into a haphazard, ghetto communicator of spare electronic parts while everyone around him cheered and screamed.
"The man is a fake. He's no greater a fighter than those he's butted heads with. His pride in himself is a blind, ignorant one. If you strip that from him—"
-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-
'—then you strip him of the only strength he has! The illusion wrought by cowardice! Keep making a fool out of him!'
I swallowed and mentally nodded.
I think I can do that……
He stood up and gripped his blade with a fuming inhalation of resolve. "I am Katarou….rogue apprentice of the True Master! You are nothing but post-industrial, western filth to me! I can finish you in three moves! THREE!"
So you can count……
I grinned.
I got into a crouch with Myrkblade in my right hand raised and my metal fingers extended…and motioning him on.
Come give me a lesson……
He exhaled through his teeth. Something quite akin to a hiss, and charged me. "One….." Th-Th-Th-Thwish! His staff spun like an industrial fan.
'Watch it! He'll try to overwhelm you!'
I smirked.
Thanks, 'coach'.
I twirled Myrkblade to meet his charge.
Cl-Cl-Cl-Cl-Clang! Sparks flew.
Katarou suddenly spun with a kick aimed at my chest.
WHUMP!
I slid back against the cage bars.
He pivoted from his kick with the full length of his staff sailing at my skull. "RAUGH!"
I ducked my head.
CLUNK!
His staff struck nothing but bars.
I slid to the side, twirled up to my feet, ran towards his prone, lunging figure, ran up his rib cage with murking feet, backflipped, and came directly down with a swing of Myrkblade into his torso.
WHACK!
And just as I landed, Katarou and his staff again went plummeting across the caged floor of metal.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"Rrrrrghhh-HAWRRR!" Wildebeest went charging across the gold cage with his furred fist of muscle flying.
Deadshot narrowly missed a bone-crushing impact by rolling to the side. He jumped up to his feet, took a deep breath, aimed his laser rifle, and fired at Wildebeest's cranium—ZAP!
But Wildebeest pivoted his skull so that the silver hood deflected the energy blast. FLASH! With a snarl, he spun and reverse-kicked Deadshot in the chest with his heavy heel. WHAM!
"Augh!" Deadshot flew back against the cage's bars.
SNORT Wildebeest ground his heels and charged at the assassin, horns first. Stomp-Stomp-Stomp-STOMP!
Deadshot stood up straight. His red eyepiece glistened, and he whipped out a taser whip. ZZZZTTT! He flung it forward. WHHH-PSHHH!
The taser whip wrapped around one of Wildebeest's horns and shot electrocution into his frame.
ZAAAAAAAP!
"RRGHHHH!" Wildebeest convulsed in pain in anger. Snarling, he shot a hand out and literally gripped Deadshot by the torso.
"NKKK!" Deadshot struggled to breathe.
With an agonized grunt, Wildebeest tossed the man over his shoulder and across the metal slab floor behind him.
"And what an exciting tug of war Wildebeest versus Deadshot is becoming! Hold onto your bets, folks! The show ain't over yet!"
Wildebeest shook the pain off and dizzily turned to finish Deadshot. As he did so, he got a morse code message through a communicator of his own to be 'more careful'. He merely grunted in frustration and charged the assassin just as the opponent was getting up.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"He's slipping…," Pulsade muttered. "He needs to get his antlered head together."
"Who can blame him?" Jinx purred with a moping face. "This is rotten-oranges-bad!"
Pulsade's blue eyes narrowed as she peered over the railing. She gazed upon the silver cage in particular. "I should have paralyzed him. Put him in carbon freezing somewhere. Or just given him a bloody concussion to grow on."
Jinx winced. "You know that wouldn't work either."
Pulsade's knuckles clenched white. "Then see what you can do about making him fall on his bloody arse!" She looked over at Jinx. "You're the ace up our sleeves!"
Jinx bit her lip.
"What?" Pulsade blinked.
"He's um…..," Jinx ran a nervous hand through her pink hair and bore a crooked Cheshire. "He's….good."
Pulsade raised an eyebrow.
"Sorry…," Jinx simpered. "I'm a little shell-shocked."
"Well, just do your best, love," Pulsade sighed, staring back down at the thunderous scene(s). "Or else I might be tempted to pat Red Aviary on the back…" She fingered a sniper rifle.
Jinx gulped. "I like the way you put things across."
"Hexing….please…."
"Right!" Jinx leaned over the railing and raised a hand, charged with pink light.
She aimed at the silver cage…..
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
In the back of the stands, the Messenger whistled nonchalantly to himself
He leaned back and forth.
His asian eyes darted left and right.
Nobody was looking at him. Not a single gambler. Not even a guard.
He cleared his throat, stepped back further into the dark, and whipped out something from his sweatjacket's pouch. A rather obscenely bulky pair of nightvision goggles. The sort that one might find on a Hollywood espionage hero. Three green 'eye' specks barreled out from his brow as he stared up at the ceiling rafters…..and smiled. He lowered the goggles, looked left, looked right, and vanished in a veil of green.
Zaat!
….
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
….
Zaat!
Up in the rafters twenty feet away from the metal platform where two invisible girls perched, someone else perched. Someone with three green orbs humming. The figure half-hid behind a corner railing support in the curve of the catwalk. A shadowy hand raised a shadowy communicator to a shadowy head.
"You know what they say about working with loved ones, Noir?" the Messenger whispered. "You tend to get distracted. Which goes to show that you and I make a focused team, eh? Anyways. Pulsade is certainly a transparent madame as always, along with her bosom buddette the Pink Pirate. But their thermal signatures aren't so transparent. And if I didn't know better…."
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
THWACK!
I smacked Katarou side and danced around him.
I craned my neck.
Black eyes narrowed under my goggles.
I listened…..
'……I'd say that your old 'girlfriend' is about to launch a lovely handful of fuchsia at your butt.'
I bit my lip.
I glanced up some.
'More like………'
-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Jinx's cat eyes narrowed.
She clenched her jaw.
Concentrated…
And launched a pink stream down at the bottom of the silver cage.
Unseen to both girls, a green triad of green specks bobbed as a figure quickly blabbered into a communicator—
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
'………two feet behind your butt! Jump forward! Now, Noir!'
I held my breath, timed it just right, and pounced forward—leaping over a stumbling Katarou—and landing on the other side.
CRACK!
A dent formed in the metal slabs where I was previously standing. A collapse that was laced with ever so faint an aura of pink. Something that would quite easily have trapped me and made me prone for a strike by my opponent.
I smiled and took a deep breath.
Thanks………
The Messenger didn't reply. He couldn't.
Keep me filled.
I twirled Myrkblade and faced Katarou as if nothing happened.
The man got up, growled, and charged me. "TWO!" He twirled his staff at my forehead.
Whatever……
THWISH! I raised Myrkblade in answer.
CLANG!
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"Holy pink mother!" Jinx gasped.
Pulsade blinked. "Uhm…."
"How'd he know that I was….where did he….what in the…?"
"Keep…hexing….," Pulsade uttered through clenched, frustrated teeth.
Jinx took a deep breath. With wide cat eyes, she took aim and tried again-
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
CLANG! CL-CLANG!
My sword clashed with Katarous's staff.
We shoved our weapons against each other, shook, and stared face to face.
Katarou gritted his teeth. He reared his head back.
"!" I couldn't pull back from our tangled weapons-
He shot his head forward.
WHAM!
He headbutted me hard.
I stumbled back, wincing.
The crowd roared.
"Ooooh! Cheap!"
Katarou chuckled and twirled his staff. "How does pain feel, fool?"
The Messenger's voice squabbled in my head as I stood there wincing.
'Head's up! She's launching another lavender loogie!'
I panted.
Katarou raised his staff.
'Let him charge you!'
Katarou ran at me, yelling.
'Stay……still……'
The opponent came. His staff sailed down.
'Now! Teleport away now, Noir!'
"!"
FLASH! I blurred forward and through Katarou in a smoking haze.
Just as I did so, a pink light burst overhead.
A metal bar from the 'roof' of the cage fell and slammed over his head.
CLANG!
"AUGH!"
I solidified and twirled around.
Smirking.
Never thought cheating would feel so good.
My opponent shook the pain off. "NnnnghhhRAAAUGH!" Katarou spun around with the full length of his rod sailing down at me.
I took a deep breath, saturated Myrkblade with pulsing smoke, and swung it upwards.
SLASH!
CRACK!
Katarou's staff broke into two clubs.
"!" he stumbled back, gasping.
"….," I glared at him, swinging Myrkblade down to my side. Smoke danced out from under my goggles and poured down my body.
"Hmph…," he smirked and marched towards me threatening. "So, you have superpowers!"
WHUMP! My leg happily found the spot between his legs.
"!" He fell down to his knees. "Ohhhhh—" THWUMP! He sprawled across the floor.
I looked down at him, glaring.
So, you have balls.
The crowd cheered.
"Ohhhhhh! How many of you want to bet Mr. Chow Yun Fatlike felt THAT, folks!"
More cheers.
'Ha ha ha ha ha!'
I tried to hide a smirk.
Katarou looked at me, eyes flaming.
I shrugged. A smile.
"Nnnnnghhh—THREE!" He screamed and ran up at me with both shattered 'clubs' swinging like deadly batons.
I dashed back and deflected and parried as he pushed me back around the length of the caged area.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"I swear! It's like he knows!" Jinx hissed. She looked at Pulsade, sweating. "He knows when and where I'm launching my hex, somehow! He must have had his spatial sense upgraded up the wazoo or something!"
"He's in for a nitro-glycerin smackbottom, that's what…," Pulsade hissed.
"What do we do?"
"Keep an eye on Wildebuddy…," the blonde pointed. "Above all else, he must make it through this tourney."
"R-Right…," Jinx nodded her short head of pink. "I'll get the cow ahead."
"You do that…," Pulsade squinted again at the silver cage. "In the meantime, let's find out just what our party-crashing bloke has in mind…."
Jinx bit her lip.
An unseen trio of green specks in the distance faded…
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Katarou snarled and twirled his two clubs together over my face.
I blurred back.
CLACK!
The clubs sparked together.
I swung Myrkblade up.
CLANG!
I divided the clubs and forced Katarou's arms apart. I swiftly twirled and side-kicked him square in the exposed chest. WHAP!
He stumbled backwards.
I twirled Myrkblade and surged towards him with a smoking propulsion.
WHAM!
I slammed him up against the bars.
He gritted his teeth, locked the clubs in with the metal beams, anchored his weight to them, and flew his legs up.
WHUMP!
I stumbled back.
He unfastened his clubs and rotated at me, both weapons spinning.
I deflected repeatedly—Cl-Cl-Cl-Cl-Clang!—stepping backwards.
He suddenly shoved against one of my deflections and spun with a kick up my chin.
WHACK!
I fell back and landed hard on my back. THWUMP!
"YAAAAAAGH!" Katarou jumped up high and flew down towards me with a sailing kick.
I took a deep breath, vaulted my legs up, pulsed murk, and reverse-somersaulted at the last second.
PLOW!
A dent formed from Katarou's foot slamming into the metal slabs.
I peeled up into a standing position, I held Myrkblade in a two-handed pose.
Katarou spun and flung one club at me.
Th-Th-Th-Th-Th-Thwish!
I raised Myrkblade, severing the projectile. CLACK!
He came at me with the other club raised. "HAAAAA!"
I took a breath.
I twirled Myrkblade down and to the left from its upswing, effectively catching Katarou's club and yanking his arms to the side.
He stumbled towards me.
I released my right hand from Myrkblade's hilt and bitch-slapped the opponent across the face.
WHAP!
His face jerked from the impact. He froze in a painful jerk.
I took a deep breath, rejoined my right hand to Myrkblade's hilt, spun a leftward three-sixty and brought Myrkblade up in a diagonal strike.
WHAP! It knocked his arm up and spun his body.
I brought Myrkblade swirling around into a horizontal slam into his ribcage.
THWACK!
He hunched over, wincing.
"!" I snarled mutely and brought my foot up, slamming him dead-on in the skull.
WHUMP!
Katarou fell back and slammed to a stop with his shoulders against the cage bars.
CLANG!
He winced.
He made to move-
I took a breath, flashed a metal hand to my belt pockets, grabbed a fan-full of playing cards, and—
TH-TH-THWISSSSSSSSSH!
CL-CL-CLUNK!
I pinned him to the metal bars with cards embedded into the sash of his outfit.
He struggled. He strained.
I ran at him. Teeth snarling. I ran into a flying jump. I was airborne for a second and a half of flashbulb hilarity before finally slamming the full weight of my being through my metal-laced boots and into his gut.
WHAM!
"Ughhhhhhh…..," he groaned.
"….," I stood. Frowning. Gripping Myrkblade in a threatening pose.
"……," Katarou blinked. He grinned. "Four." RIIIIP! He fell loose of the cards and bars. THWUMP! He was down for the count.
I exhaled.
The crowd roared. But only for a short time. When it became rather obvious that I was making no attempts to kill Katarou, half the cheering dwindled into either silence or mild grumbling.
But in my ear—
'Smoke. WINS. Friendship!'
And I helplessly broke out into chuckling.
'Hehehehehe! HELL YES!'
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
THWACK!
Wildebeest's fist slammed into Deadshot's chest.
The man slid back. Parts of his outfit were torn from the beastly opponent's impacts.
Deadshot panted…heaved…fumed…and pointed both of his wristbands out.
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH! DIE!" his twin cannons glowed and-
FWOOOOOOOM! Spewed forth fire.
Wildebeest snarled and crouched down low with two meaty arms covering his horned crown.
PHWOOOOOOOOSH!
The half-man-half-animal was covered with plasma.
The cage warbled with heat on the inside.
Deadshot spewed flame and flame and more flame until his juice ran out. He lowered his wristbands, panting. And soon he gasped. A frightened fluctuation in his eyepiece.
"…..," Wildebeest slowly stood up. His arms smoldering. White eyes narrow as he snorted. And…THWOOOOSH!
Wildebeest charged the assassin.
The man uselessly reached for his belt to grab a flash grenade-
WHAM!
Deadshot jolted from one punch.
THWAP!
A kick.
POW!
A meaty uppercut across the jaw.
Deadshot's cowl ripped in half, showing half a head of gray hair. He spun in the air a few times before landing cold and hard on the metal slabs a few feet away.
KO'd.
The crowd cheered.
Roars and applause.
Only a few disgruntled mutterings of the losers.
"Wow, ladies and gentlemen! Wasn't that worth the while to just see much less win or lose! Winner of the golden cage! WILDEBEEST!"
Applause.
Cheers.
Flashing lights.
Wildebeest merely folded his arms and gazed apathetically at the dull body of Deadshot.
"And in the silver cage! Winner and newcomer, WYLDECARDE!"
Wildebeest's white eyes blinked.
It looked across the arena at the cage on the far side.
A dark swordsman looked back. Dressed in metal mesh and with dark, obsidian goggles. A smirk…and the swordsman waved back.
"……," Wildebeest let loose a light nostril flare. It glanced up at the rafters with perplexity washing over its hairy, mute face. "?"
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"He knows something's up…," Jinx looked at Pulsade atop the catwalk. "The brute's no dunce."
"Yes…," Pulsade folded her white sleeves and took a breath. "Then the clever chap should also remember that he nearly took Wyldecarde to what you yanks call the 'woodshed' the last time he and 'J' ran into the annoying hero."
"So what now?"
"What else?" Pulsade gestured with a graceful hand. "The Tourney isn't over with. Wildebeest has cages to go, people to beat up."
"And Wyldecarde will also advance, more than likely," Jinx wrung her hands.
"Stop worrying…he's history once Wildebeest is matched up against him."
"True…," Jinx gulped. "Gawd….why does that guy always have to be so…so…."
"Lucky?"
Jinx blinked. She frowned at Pulsade. "That was low."
Pulsade glanced off. There was ever so slight a curve to her cold lips.
Jinx rolled her cat eyes and then looked down at the cages. "This is going to be a long tournament."
"Then grab a bloody newspaper."
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
The door to the silver cage opened.
Workers rushed in and dragged the groaning body of Katarou out.
I slowly stepped out into the main arena. The interior world seemed to grow louder. I looked up at the stands and saw people both cheering and booing. I was as much a blessing as I was a curse in their gambling eyes. My 'name' flashed on bright monitors overhead and the announcer's voice rumbled through the light-crossed air.
'You have a breath still, Noir?'
I made a face.
I looked 'up' into the 'somewhere' that the Messenger had to be there and then.
I mouthed: 'What kind of question is that?'
Whether he could read my lips or not….
'Well hold onto it, champ,' his voice electronically coached. 'You just went all Ken Masters on that guy's ass. You know what that means?'
"……."
'You're in it for the long haul.'
I exhaled deeply.
Right……
'Hoo boy……I just KNOW everything's gonna smell like my gym bag once all this nonsense is over with!'
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
The tournament went on…
"JADE versus RED PANZER!"
FLASH!
A pulse of bright light. A green-skinned,green-haired girl backflipped. She landed nimbly in a leg-splitting slide to the side of the golden cage's interior. Sweat glistened off her black and white jumpsuit. Her emerald skin glistened under long locks of tossed hair.
She took a deep breath.
"……"
STOMP! STOMP!
A figure stood tall and menacing before her. Clad in a tight red jacket with black pants tucked into long, dark boots. A 'bald' helmet of silver loomed about the opponent's cranium and gave the appearance of an emotionless machine….as did his smoking/hissing arm cannon which he was presently aiming at the girl.
Jade gritted her teeth.
"Jetzt sterben Sie….," Red Panzer fired.
PHOMP!
A fireball flew in her direction.
"Nnngh!" she vaulted up into a flip.
POW! The metal slabs beneath her shattered and melted.
The girl landed, twirled acrobatically, brought her palms together, glowed a bright green, and produced a 'mace' of solid emerald energy in mid-air. She swung the metal-heavy object directly into the helmet of the crimson destroyer.
"NNNGHAAAH!"
CLANG!
Red Panzer stumbled back amidst a flurry of sparks.
The crowd roared. Lights flared.
Red Panzer shook his helmet.
Jade ran at him, her fingers curling into fists. Summoning a transparent, green sword. SLASH!
Red Panzer blocked with his arm-cannon. CLANK!
Jade jolted.
The crimson man hissed, leaned back, and leaned forward with a kick of his booted leg.
WHAP!
Jade teetered.
CL-CLICK! A steaming arm-cannon aimed directly at her face.
She let out a gasp and crossed her arms. FLASH! An emerald shield formed across her upper frame—
PHOMP! PHOMP! PHOMP!
POW! POW! POW!
Ashes and sparks flew off of Jade's shield.
She was shoved back across the cage. Her shoes grind against the metal with burning friction.
She struggled and strained and fought to keep her concentration against the volley….
….until the volley stopped.
"Huh?" she blinked. She looked up.
Red Panzer ran straight at her with his fist flying. "Tropfen TOT!"
WHAM!
Jade flew from the impact.
Red Panzer knelt, whipped his cannon out, and fired at the girl's twirling body.
PHOMP!
POW!
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"ARROWETTE versus TSUKURI!"
THWOOOSH!
An Asian samurai jumped up and grabbed ahold of a set of bars near the top of the silver cage. Decked out in red and black armor, she gripped a katana in the tight fingers of a free hand.
Thwiift! Thwiift! Thwiift!
A trio of searing-hot arrows flew up at the woman.
Tsukuri swiftly spun her katana, snapping the projectiles in two. Cr-Cr-CRACK! A final arrow flew at her with an explosive tip. Tsukuri nimbly leapt off of the bars and out of the way.
POW!
The arrowhead exploded in a flurry of fire and smoke.
A red-hooded archer came into view. She twirled with a toss of blonde hair and the swish of a white skirt. Angry teeth clenched under pink lips. "Jump all you like, ninja turd!" She reached back to her quiver, produced a silvery arrow, and aimed it across her long red bow. "You're as good a sitting duck to me no matter how fast you hop!"
Thwifft! Thwifft!
Tsukuri leapt, bounced off the side bars of the cage, backflipped, dodged the arrows with a twirl of her body, and came spinning down at Arrowette with a glinting slash of her katana.
SWOOOSH!
"YEEK!" Arrowette lunged back and raised her bow.
CLANK!
Sparks flew as Tsukuri grind her blade against Arrowette's weapon.
The blonde archer sweat and strained. Her eyes were thin under the red mask.
Tsukuri's almond eyes glared. She suddenly jumped back, twirled, and jabbed at Arrowette's midsection.
SLASH!
The archer was grazed in the side. Her costume ripped, exposing cut skin along the ribcage.
"Aughh!" Arrowette stumbled back, wincing. Gripping her wound.
The crowd roared.
The announcer's voice: "Hah hah hah! There's your money shot!"
Tsukuri took a breath and raised her blade to cleave the blonde's head in two.
Arrowette sneered. "That wasn't very NICE!"
SWOOOSH—Her leg flew up.
WHAM! She kicked the samurai square in her mammary glands.
Tsukuri's eyes widened. She shuddered back with a painful jolt.
"RRRRRAUGH!" Arrowette spun around with her bow straight out-
WHACK!
Tsukuri was slammed back across the cage.
Arrowette spiraled to a stop, grabbed two arrows at once, and took aim-
THWIFFFFFT!
Swiiiiiiiiiish-TH-THUMP!
One arrow struck the katana out of the ninja's grasp while the other ripped into her sleeve and pinned her to the bars of the cage. CLANK! She struggled to get loose-
"NNNNGHHHH!" Arrowette charged, swinging the length of her bow up like a golf club.
THWACK!
Tsukuri's face jerked up from the impact and a few teeth flew free. She let out a mute exhale and dangled unconsciously from the arrow.
"………," Arrowette panted. The crowd surged and cheered in the distance behind her as she spit on the woman and muttered. "Bitch."
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"PANTHA versus JOTO!"
"RAWWWWWR!" a howling she-cat with brown hair from head-to-toe ran across the cage on all fours. Chocolate hair billowed from behind the yellow crest of a face mask through which fang teeth viciously showed. Her hands and feet clawed mercilessly at the earth while a slender lion tale danced and wavered behind her. "HRESSSSSH!" she pounced through the air at her opponent.
"Nnngh!" a dark-skinned man in a black costume with yellow bands lifted his arms, caught her in mid-pounce, and tossed her mercilessly across the cage with strong finesse.
The crowd cheered as Pantha flailed in the air from the toss. She angled her limbs just right, impacted with the bards, bounced off, and dove once again at the man.
Joto readied his fist with a snarl.
SWOOOSH!
Pantha flew down to the ground at the last second, slid, pivoted, and swept Joto's legs out from underneath.
"Augh!"
WHUMP!
She dove at him.
He braced himself.
WHUMP! They wrestled, rolled, and ended with Pantha nimbly tossing the man off of her and across the cage with a cat cry. "ROWWWWR!"
SWOOOOSH-CLANG!
Joto landed hard against the metal bars. Wincing.
More cheering.
"RAWWWR!" Pantha landed before him. She pranced left and right on all fours, swished her tale, then lifted up on her hind legs like any other human. She pointed with a gnarled finger and produced an animalistic laugh. "Hresh hresh hresh!"
Joto's eyes narrowed. "Yeah. Okay." He stretched a hand out at her. A hand that glowed orange.
PHOOOOOSH!
A plume of fire surged at the she-cat.
Pantha's dark eyes widened. "Rawwr…………oh shit."
FLASH!
The fire exploded against her chin, knocking her back.
Snarling, Joto blurred towards her. He brought his hands into fists. The fingers billowed with lava. Smoke and ash danced on either side of him.
Pantha teetered just as he-
"HAAAAAAA!" he swung a flaming right hook.
POW!
"HAAAA!" A left jab of fire.
POW!
Followed by an impossible, spinning uppercut of a burning kick. "YAAAAAAH!"
FW-FW-FW-FWOOSH! Pantha's body spun upwards, slammed against the ceiling of the cage—CLANG!—and fell down hard on the metal slabs.
CLANG!
"Nrgghhhh….," the she-cat whimpered.
The crowd screamed and howled.
Joto stood, panting. With a flare of his dark eyes, the flames crawled up his forearms…flaring. "What say I send you to the Great Taxidermist in the sky?"
Pantha shook her head out of it. She hissed.
"Skinned cat…coming right up!" Joto ran at her with two joined hands billowing…
Pantha took a deep breath, half-back-flipped, performed a handstand, and—WHOOOSH—flung her feet straight up Joto's incoming chin.
THWACK!
Joto stumbled back. His hands cooled.
Pantha leapt up, spun, hung from the bars of the ceiling by her hands, growled, swung, and pounced down on Joto.
"Augh!" he cried out as she landed on him.
THWOMP!
Pantha straddled Joto's grounded torso. She whipped out a set of fingers, extended her claws, smirked with glistening fangs, and slashed-slashed-slashed-slashed at the man's face.
The rest of his body shook and convulsed in agony.
The crowd stomped their feet.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"EMPRESS versus ARGENT!"
A pale woman with streaky, black hair dove across the silver cage. Her crossed wrists clenched into fists. She smirked and—in mid dive—produced to blades of white energy. With a shout, she slashed both blades out and at the neck of the opponent before her.
The dark-skinned girl a billowing ponytail ducked, rolled to the side, twirled to her feet like a dancer, and flung a birrage of knights at the gothically-dressed. Th-Th-Th-Thwish!
Argent crouched and raised her left forearm, forming a white shield.
CR-CR-CRACK!
Argent then let out a "HAH!" and jabbed low at Empress's feet with a plasma rapier.
Empress leapt, flipped, and stood nimbly in the corner of the cage with a fan of knives in either wrist. Brown eyes narrow.
Argent panted. Her pale-as-snow skin sheen with sweat. She let out a shout, ran at Empress, and jumped. When her feet came back down, they formed an instant sheathe of white plasma that acted as a slide. Thus, Argent effortlessly glided towards her opponent across the silver cage.
Empress flung a fan of knives.
TH-TH-THWISH!
Argent swung one arm-ful of white plasma. CRACK! She snarled and grabbed for Empress.
Empress spun, twirled her dancer-arms up, and—THFF! She disappeared.
"!" Argent slid through a haze of smoke and slammed into the metal bars. CLANG! "Owie…."
THFF! Empress materialized on the opposite side of the cage. She knelt low and shot a stream of daggers. Thwiiiish!
Argent leapt the blades at the last second, cartwheeled with a shielding arm of plasma—CRACK!—twirled upright, and 'slid' towards the fighter again.
Empress merely twirled at the last second—THFF!—and teleported behind Argent upon which she swung a hand-ful of daggers.
RIIIIIIP!
A huge tear was formed in Argent's jumpsuit. A good deal of her pale backside was exposed.
"!" the woman gasped and grabbed the material of her outfit, hoisting it back up.
The audience cheered and cat-called.
"Whoah ho ho ho ho! How's the weather down there!"
Argent tilted her frowning face to the audience beyond the outside of the rink. "Hey! You shut your horny faces—"
WHAM! Empress kicked her squarely in the back. She smirked. "You're not very fun." CRKK! A fan of blades. A girlish smile. Th-Th-Th-Thwish!
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"WILDEBEEST versus WILDCAT!"
Wildebeest snorted. With white eyes narrowing, he eyed the heavy-set human pacing across from him.
A man in a dark jumpsuit with white eyes and blue crests to his helmet motioned the hulking animal hybrid on.
"Come on, you oversized throw-rug!" Wildcat sneered. "You think you can take me on?"
"……..," Wildebeest glared.
A morse code message received.
His nostrils flared.
"Well!" Wildcat growled above the boos and hisses of the encircling crowd. "I haven't got all day for the likes of you, punk!"
SWOOOOOOSH! Wildebeest's fist flew at Wildcat and somewhere close behind was Wildebeest's massive body in tow.
"RRGHHH!" Wildcat expertly ducked low, grinded his muscles into gear, took the brunt of Wildebeest's body, and hoisted him up. "RAAAAAAAUGH!" He twirled on wobbly legs and tossed the behemoth into the row of bars behind him.
CLANG!
Wildebeest landed, his eyes bulging. He shook his head and rubbed an aching, silver-laced brow with a gnarled hand.
Finally the crowd cheered.
Wildcat panted…panted….panted…but then raised his arms to the ovation. "YEAH! WHAT DID I TELL YOU!" He smirked and pointed. "You're just a pathetic little pup—"
SWOOOSH-WHAM! Wildebeest ran up and head-butted Wildcat. The man's body was miraculously pinned just between the horns of the huge brute, but not so miraculously the man was thus shoved helplessly towards the wall of metal bars lining the golden cage.
SWOOOOSH-CLANG!
Wildebeest's horns went through the bars. Wildcat's body, however, did not.
"OOOF!" he shook and convulsed all over from the pain wracking through his body.
Wildebeest snorted. Planted down on all fours, he rammed his head against the bars again.
CLANG!
Wildcat convulsed.
Again.
CLANG!
Again.
CLANG!
Bloodthirsty cheers.
Flashing lights.
The announcer: "Ohhhhh! That's going to leave a mark in the morning! Assuming Wildcat believes in reincarnation, folks! HA!"
Laughter.
Applause.
The Wildebeest beat away at the homo sapien while high up above in the shadowed catwalks….
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"Whewie….," Jinx simpered. She looked over at Pulsade with bright cat-eyes and managed a grin. "Almost thought the big throw rug was gonna need an extra dash of pink dust!"
"……..," Pulsade was staring at the silver cage.
Jinx blinked. "What's wrong, Leslie? You always laugh at the pink dust joke."
The blonde's eyes narrowed. "He isn't alone…," she muttered above the loud roar of the crowd beneath them. Her sapphire optics were fixed upon the usual dark figure of a metal-mesh wearing swordsman. "He can't be alone. He's got someone with him. That's how he's been able to spot everything we've tried thus far."
Jinx leaned her short head of hair to the side. "Yeah….but who?" she shrugged. "All of the Titans are back home sulking over fallen birds. And even Slade could have told you while he was still alive that the ghost boy is as friendless here in Vegas as he would be anywhere!"
"Hrmm…..something just doesn't feel right…," Pulsade murmured. She looked at the pink sorceress. "Tell me, Jean. Do you sense it?"
"….."
"Your hex? Your….feel for the colors beyond?"
"…….," Jinx took a deep breath. She nodded. "Something is definitely screwy."
Pulsade's lips pursed. "We haven't seen all the fighters that there's going to be, have we?"
Jinx didn't hesitate. She shook her head. "There's something…..going on here."
"……"
"Something wackier than any of us anticipated," Jinx murmured.
"Better give 'J' a heads up," Pulsade fingered a communicator built into her suit.
"Yeah. Maybe he can tell us if there's been any more updates to the tournament rosters while you're at it!"
"Something tells me we'll find out soon enough…."
"……"
"Just keep a protective eye on our 'throw-rug'."
"Yes'm."
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
The pounding chaos of Wildebeest and Wildcat echoed in the distance as I stepped into the silver ring.
I pivoted my head around, cracked the joints, flexed my limbs, and oozed icily into a fighting stance.
Chiiiiiii-iiiii-iiiiing!
I gripped Myrkblade into a threatening stance. I held the blade over my head like a scorpion tail. I glared up through glistening-black goggles and took a deep breath.
The Messenger's Voice crackled: 'Anyone ever tell you that you move like a velociraptor sometimes? No, scratch that. A really bigass chicken……with teeth!'
I chuckled helplessly.
And at that exact moment, the opponent opposite me in the cage frowned. He was a blonde, young thing with blue eyes.
"Pfft….oh yeah, this is gonna be fair!"
"…..," I looked up at him. Brow furrowing.
He was a tall, nimbly-built teenager in a jumpsuit of turquoise-on-black. He looked at Myrkblade with an ugly face.
"Only a coward will use a blade against a bare-bones fighter!"
"……," I glared at him.
A beat.
I smirked.
CHIIING! I slid Myrkblade back into my scabbard. I looped the scabbard off of me and tossed it out of the cage, through the bars. Thwump!
'Uhhhhh,' the Messenger's voice sounded. 'You sure you wanna walk into that cold and impotent?'
I cracked my flesh and metal knuckles.
Tell you what, YOU walk into this cage and start butting heads.
I mentally transmitted the words he couldn't possibly here. I raised my knuckles at the blonde guy across the way and smirked never-ceasingly.
I know what I'm doing……
The man smirked. "Allrighty….," he got into a fighting stance.
My goggled eyes glared.
His blue eyes barely twitched.
"Hoooo boy! Ladies and Gentlemen, this should be an exciting one-on-one extravaganza! Place your bets!"
Cheers.
Flashing lights.
The pounding of the distant Wildebeest/Wildcat fight.
'Remember, aim for the ventilation shaft at the end of the trench!'
Will you shut up for once!
"And now! Fresh blood galore! WYLDECARDE versus HASTE!"
Haste?
DING
"HA!" he blurred at me.
Blurred!
SWOOOOSH!
I blinked. Gasping, I crossed my arms-
TH-TH-TH-TH-THWISH! THWAP! TH-TH-THWAP! SM-SMACK!
A flurry of hummingbird fast punches, kicks, headbutts, and shoulder-rams soared into my flesh and metal arms.
I jolted and shook and shuddered from the rapid impacts. I somehow managed to block, but the sheer rapidity of the blows sent me sliding back on my very own heels.
"RRRRRRR-HYAAAAA!" Haste spun, pivoted his body, and brought his heel up towards my upper body. "YA-YA-YA-YA-YA-YA-YA!"
In a snapshot of goggled-eyed vision, I could have sworn I saw eight identical pairs of feet flying at me all at once.
WH-WH-WH-WH-WH-WH-WH-WHUMP!
I barely blocked. My flesh arm was turning red under the sleeve. The metal arm was hot with friction.
SW-SW-SWOOSH! He spun once, twice, and ended with two hands planted into my ribcage. "YAAAAH!"
WHAP!
I slid back, my rear to the bars.
Smoke formed two trails where my metal-laced boots had grinded across the floor.
I stood stock-still with my arms still folded, aching.
Haste stood still, panting, looking at me. Fists clenched and sweaty face frowning.
"………." I refocused my eyes on him. Two eyebrows furrowed.
FLASH!
My folded arms bubbled with trailing smoke like black flame.
He gulped.
Well then.
My turn.
FWOOOOOOOSH!
I blurred at him. My arms uncrossed. Snarling, I curved down in my approach and sailed with a smoke-trailing uppercut.
WHAM!
I punched him back.
His body lifted, landed, and teetered.
I spun and swung a smoke-trailing right foot up at his skull.
WHAP! He deflected with a raised forearm.
I curved my right ankle around his wrist, took a breath, hopped up, grabbed his blocking forearm with two hands and—yanking with both arms and an ankle—brought his face down into my flying left knee.
WHAM!
I used the jolt of the impact to spin my murk-aided body around his back like a pinwheel and then let go on the inner curve.
THWOOOOSH! His body was tossed like a ragdoll upside-down against the cage walls.
CLANG!
Cheers.
I flipped and landed in a crouch.
Haste grumbled, shook his head, and stood up-
SWOOOOSH! I charged him.
He raised his forearms.
TH-TH-TH-TH-TH-TH-THWAP! I let loose a flurry of smoke-sped punches at his upper torso then—SWIIISSSH! Spun around and jabbed repeatedly at his abdomen with a blurred boot. WH-WH-WH-WHAM!
He blocked low, gripped his fingers closed, caught my blurring sole, and lifted with both arms and a snarl. "YAAUGH!"
I was flipped over twice. I landed in an awkward crouch.
"NNNNNNGH!" he blurred up at me and quick-as-lightning punched at my torso, face, chest, abdomen, and upper thighs all at once.
I blurred my limbs and met his advance and swiftly blockedblockedblockedblockedblockedblockedblockedblocked!
All the while, Haste somehow summoned one right arm out of his advancing flurry of limbs, charged it up with red-eyed adrenaline, practically drooled, and—SWOOOOOSH-WHAM!
I spun from the impact to the face and slammed with my face and chest against the bars.
A simultaneous cheer and groan from the crowd.
"Hahahahaha! Not so hot now, eh dumbass!"
I winced against the metal bars.
I heard his beetle-scuttling pad of feet rushing up behind me. Thap-Thap-Thap-Thap-Thap!
'Now's a good time for something cool!'
I gritted my teeth.
I concentrated.
He slammed two fists into my neck.
"!" I pushed against the metal bars, flew back, and turned into smoke form—FWOOOSH!
"YAAAH!" he surged right through me.
I solidified in back of him with a kick to his rear. WHUMP!
He flew straight into the metal bars. WHANG!
I spun and side-kicked him in his right ear.
WHAM!
"Ooof!" he landed on the ground. He sputtered sweat and saliva. His whole pained face was sweating as he curled up from the momentary stinging sensation.
I hopped a few times on one foot, twirled my hands meditatively, and brought my lower limb down into a fighter's pose. FWOOP! Murk cushioned out and around me.
I glared.
You're the only one sweating here, hotstuff.
Cheering.
Screaming.
Lights.
Haste got up…not so hastily. He looked at me.
"…..," I smiled. I twirled my arms and legs into another martial arts pose and motioned him towards me.
'Hehehe………Do you really thing that's shit you're dishing?'
I smirked even more.
"Nnnnghhh!" his eyes pulsed and throbbed. With an adrenaline charged siren yell, he blurred up towards me. SWOOOOOSH!
And again the fight was on.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-
A velvet chair.
A burgundy robe.
Leather trays on varnished wooden trays.
Exquisite glass after exquisite glass of red wine and champagne.
Rows of t.v. sets focusing in on the dual battles.
He watches.
He holds a thin glass of champagne to his lips.
He sips….gently…elegantly.
He lowers the glass.
A beat.
His lips curve.
Schwissh!
Rexxin walked in swiftly from the rear doors to the balcony view seat of the arena.
"Sir…," the guard with red highlights and a scarred face spoke firmly as he stood behind the velvety chair. "…about the latest contender. We've looked at the footage of his fight with Katarou. We've identified it. There's no mistaking it, sir. He's Noir. Noir of the Teen Titans."
"……..," the man at the chair placed the glass of champagne down. He crossed his fingers and watched alternately the t.v. sets, the naked arena, and the roaring crowd just beyond the balcony's edge. A breath of air conditioning gently kicked at his hair's skunk spots. He took a deep breath and smiled more….
Rexxin swallowed. He held a communicator in his hand as he gestured. "Sir….did you hear me? Th-That's a Titan out there! Practically a League member in the making! I didn't recognize him at first, but now-well-I have all of my men assembled to spring upon the silver cage as soon as his match with Haste is over. We have every reason to think that he was the one we battled in the chaos that happened earlier in Pompeii's casino upstairs and—"
"Shhhh….," the middle-aged man raised a finger. "…do you…hear them?"
"?" Rexxin made a face. "Sir?"
"In the silver cage…do you hear them?"
"Uhm….we can all hear Haste, sir," Rexxin gulped. "But that 'Wyldecarde' is mute. Which just goes to show, it's Noir! In fact, Wyldecarde is reportedly the image he took on when—"
"He's mute….and he's godly…," the man hissed. He turned and looked directly at Rexxin. A sickly tranquil smile on his cleanly shaven face. "I've never seen anyone move like that. Not even in the old arenas," Jacob Anderson uttered. He turned back and stared at the silver cage on both the monitors and the 'window' into the real deal. "Granted, he's not spilled blood since coming here…..but he has promise."
"Sure….he is a TITAN," Rexxin tried to keep his cool. Judging from his furrowed brow, the blood was definitely boiling like his red hair.
"Is a Titan?" Jacob waved a silly little finger around. "Or was a Titan?"
"………"
"There was so much bloodshed in that City of the crime-fighting youths…," Jacob said. He took a long, thin breath. Like sucking something in. A happy exhale following…. "…and now to think that a little piece of it has stained its way across the country and ended up here." A drunken smile. A beat. He leaned forward with robed arms folded. "No…he's Wyldecarde. A demon of a fighter all the time withheld beneath the heroic façade he once epitomized. The loss of a fine-feathered team leader has pushed him over the edge and now he's here under my very roof to vent his frustrations and what a beautiful venting it is."
"Sir, he's dangerous."
"Very….very dangerous….," Anderson cooed. A chuckle. He looked back at Rexxin again. "He can be…..useful…."
Rexxin blinked. "You mean…..y-you want him to become—"
"One of the four," Anderson nodded. "I am certain that he will make it." He gazed at the monitors again, scratching nonexistent stubble on his chin. "The same goes for that exceptional Wildebeest over there. Only…something tells me he's less reluctant to start tearing some sinewy flesh apart soon." The man licked his middle-aged lips.
Rexxin swallowed. "What will Luthor say?"
"My dear Rexxin…," Anderson breathed gently. "Luthor and our friend from Gotham chose me and chose me specifically. I was to do what I do best…..hehehehe….spend the economic detritus of Triangular lavishly. An underground economy is just like any other form of financial goodness, Rexxin. It must constantly be in….circulation." He gazed down longingly at a streak of blood that was left over from Joto's body being dragged away to the sidelines earlier. "Hot…throbbing…circulation…."
"……..," Rexxin gazed on.
Anderson fingered another glass of champagne. He swirled the stuff in front of his nose and gazed through the diffused light of the slender goblet. "The audience is eating Wyldecarde. He stays as long as he can save his own….resourceful hide. Mmmmhmmm….and when the time comes, we'll slip in the ace that we have hidden up our sleeves. You know…the one sent by our Gotham friend?"
"I don't think there's any chance of him losing if we toss him in at this point in the tournament," Rexxin said.
"Ah….but I do want to give these newcomers a chance at least," Anderson cooed. "After all….wasn't the whole point of being down here to…..'root out the weeds'?"
Rexxin nodded.
Anderson glanced over his shoulders. "That is what Dagger said, is it not?"
"Yes, sir."
"How many weeds are left?"
"Besides our Gotham connection's gift?"
"Yessss…."
"Three more fighters, sir. One's a bit of a legend from around this part of the country. The other two….well….one's a newcomer."
"Ah. Fresh meat?"
"I dunno. There's something about him, though."
"I gather he's a feisty contender."
"His way of signing up was driving a rusty motorcycle through the security gate of Pompeii's west wing."
"Oooh…how interesting….pit him against the third one."
"Yes sir," Rexxin nodded. He gazed nervously at the silver cage. "Shall we keep our eye on the former Titan?"
"Oh, don't you worry. I have my eye on him….."
"Understood, sir."
"One more thing, Rexxin," Anderson motioned with his glass.
"Yes, sir?"
Anderson smiled with happy eyes upon the guard leader. "When Joto's bloody pulp of a body was dragged away….was it clinically dead?"
"…..," Rexxin exhaled. "N-No, sir."
"Ah…," Anderson nodded. "Then gently roll what's left of him downstairs to my new facilities." He stared at the champagne with a sideways grin. "After all this sweaty fight tonight, I do intend to have…..a relaxing evening."
"……yes, sir…," Rexxin gradually turned and marched out of the balcony.
Schwissh!
Anderson swirled the glass. He stared out at the nosy arena and brought the champagne to his lips-but paused.
A beat.
He smirked.
He put the glass down on the tray, and instead picked up a goblet of crimson-red wine. He sipped it eagerly…something akin to a breathy sigh of bubbling through his wet lips.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"YAAAAA-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAH-HAAAAAAAH!" Haste blurred at me with a rapidly kicking foot.
I ducked, side-slapped, and dodged very blow before surging towards him with a smoking uppercut.
He twirled out of my swing, jumped to the side, coiled, and sprung at me with two flurrying palms. THW-THW-THW-THWAP!
I blocked all the strikes with a metal arm. CL-CL-CLANG! I gritted my teeth, timed it just right, and slapped my titanium wrist around. I grabbed his right elbow and yanked him towards me. THWOOOSH! I raised my fist into his face.
WHAM!
He jolted back from the strike.
I grunted mutely, yanked him over my shoulder, flung him, jumped up on the after recoil of the throw, and jump-kicked his back with a blurring boot. WHAM!
He flew sideways into the metal bars.
CLANG!
He fell down, coughing.
I hopped from one foot to another before standing on both and leaning into a meditative pose with arms spaced apart and bent. "……"
"Nnngh—YAGH!" Haste jumped back swiftly to his feet.
My black eyes narrowed under the goggles.
Haste spun. He faced me. Seething. Sweating. Nostrils flaring. His eyes were red and everything was throbbing, throbbing, throbbing….
'His adrenaline……,' the Messenger spoke into my ear from afar. '……it's off the charts! That guy's a walking piston!'
I took a deep breath, pacing away from his furious figure.
Didn't need to tell me THAT, silly.
"Nnnghh….I'm not going to let some stupid shinobi punk like you take me down!" he shouted.
I blew him a kiss.
"!" his teeth showed. "RRRAAAUGH!" He came at me, blurring. Feet practically sparking against the metal slabs of the floor. "NNGHHH!" His foot came at me in a blurred kick at my neck.
I easily ducked, side-stepped, spun, and slammed my smoking fist into his side.
WHAM!
He teetered wildly.
'That's it, Noir! Keep it cool! Make him blow his top!'
Way ahead of you.
I took a deep breath and folded my fingers as my body followed suit into a meditative pose.
Breathing gently.
Gently.
Gently.
The cedar trees.
The sawgrass.
The wind……
"RGHHH! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" Haste blurred at me.
"……," I stood absolutely still.
"RAAAAUGH!" he blurred his legs and arms at me at once…somehow.
I simply morphed into smoke.
FWOOOOSH! He flew through me.
I solidified, stuck my leg out in a blink, and tripped him.
THWAP!
"Ah—AH—AH!" he wildly flailed before slamming head-first into the metal bars on the other side of the silver cage.
Cheers.
Hissing and applause.
I took a deep breath.
My black eyes were closed gently under my goggles.
"RrrrrRRRAAAAAAAUGH!" he shook and quivered all over. He spun around. Eyes red. Arteries showing in his temple, arms, wrists, thighs—through his jumpsuit. "RAAAAAAAAH!" he flew at me in a missile of muscle, sweat, and rage.
"……," I was still as a statue.
The trickle of water.
Dragonflies hovering over the surface.
Bubbles…bubbles…bubbles……
"DIEEEEEE!" he flung both fists at me at once.
FWOOOSH! I morphed into smoke once again….but only half of my body. I kept my hands solidified and—in a blink of an eye—WOOOSH! GRIP! I grabbed his wrists behind me and raised them up at a twisted angle from his shoulders.
"Snkkkkttt!" he dangled helplessly from my grip above him.
"…..," I opened my eyes from beneath my goggles. Flash! Currents of smoke warbled out in a gasp of obsidian. I stared point blanc at his face.
"…….," Haste gulped. "Crud. Did it again."
THWAP!
I knocked his arms away.
He recoiled.
WHUMP!
I kneed him in the chest.
"!" he bent over.
I coiled my entire body. Took a breath. A surge of smoke—and—SWOOOOSH! I burst straight up with a pulse of murk, my entire body spinning. When I reached the right altitude, I stuck a smoke-trailing boot out and repeatedly slammed across his cheeks with each spin of my body's axis.
WHAP-WHAP-WHAP-WHAP-WHAP-WHAP!
After nearly a dozen rapid kicks to the second, the wave of murk dissipated and I dropped to the floor, spun, and uppercutted him one last time.
WHAM!
Haste fell back with a gasp and—WHAP!—landed on the metal floor. Groaning. Unconscious.
"…..," I flexed my arms. A curtain of smoke. Dissipating. Gone. I exhaled.
"WINNER! WYLDECARDE!"
Cheers.
Exploding lights and sounds.
I cracked my neck and breathed easier.
'Wow. Play Street Fighter much?'
I smiled. I knelt over by the bars and picked up Myrkblade and its scabbard from where it lie between the metal bars and plastic sheathe.
From the distance, there was a breath-shuddering groan…then the sound of someone's body hitting hard to the metal floor. Then cheering.
"WINNER! WILDEBEEST!"
I turned and looked out across the arena.
Wildcat was lying on the ground of the gold cage, twitching. A rather untouched Wildebeest towered over him, hairy arms folded as he snorted. A beat. He looked my way.
"…….," I smiled. I gave a thumb's up.
"……..," he smiled too. A beat. He shook the smile off and frowned at me with a trademark snarl.
I winced, shrugged, and walked towards the door of the cage as the cleanup crew came in.
'Hey. Don't be making me jealous.'
I gave the air my middle finger.
'Heh heh heh heh.'
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
"…….," Pulsade's eyes narrowed some more.
Jinx looked over her shoulder. "Leslie? What is it?"
"Wildebeest is going to have a spite soon….," the British assassin murmured. "…I think that is a good as time as any to go out for a stroll."
Jinx bit her lip. "But…but…," she pointed with frilled hands at the event. "We can't leave our post!"
"….."
"I mean….it's….it's our post, girl!"
"Keep close and follow me…," Pulsade gestured before gently gripping Jinx's arm, extending her invisibility with greater concentration, and walking them down the metal platform.
Jinx groaned. "Come on….I'm a big girl! I know my way to the bathroom!"
"Stop mucking about and follow me."
"Hehehehe."
"Bloody doll-humper, I swear."
"You're blussssssshiiiiiiing!"
"I said followme!"
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Between fights, there rested a shadowed alcove to the side of the arena. Away from the noise, away from the carnage, and—for the most part—away from the blood. And yet, those 'gladiators' awaiting their next battle had as open a view as possible of the gold and silver cages where the combat transpired. The crowd roared endlessly with bloodlust as the tournament continued.
Empress sat at the edge of a bench somewhere, sharpening her knives with a dull stone. She had her legs daintily crossed and her dark ponytail dangling around a neck of even darker skin.
Red Panzer sat in the corner, nodding his head to the wall as if in some sort of battle meditation. His arm-cannon hissed as his unseen lips muttered in German.
Arrowette seemed the most anxious of the bunch. She leaned against a wall just bordering the outside arena, tapping her red bow against the heel of her shoe again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again.
Some African-American youngster sitting across from me whom I didn't recognize was adjusting a fireproof 'cloak' of sorts around his neck. He glared over at Arrowette with an angry twitch of his bald-crowned eyebrows. "Do you mind?"
The blonde archer looked his way. Smiled sarcastically…then promptly stuck her tongue out at him.
The young man sighed and shook his head.
Arrowette resumed tapping.
Red Panzer continued meditating.
Empress went on sharpening.
I glanced over.
Wildebeest sat with his meaty arms folded. He seemed uncomfortably close to me….which was merely twelve feet. He stared into nothingness, breathing gently through his flaring nostrils.
A beat.
"……."
He glanced to his side.
Pantha was perched to bare seats from him, her limbs crossed. Her tail swished and her fangs showed as she stared at him. Lovingly.
"Purrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr."
"……..," Wildebeest grumbled and stared off again.
I smirked.
Zaat!
A flash of green to my left.
I glanced over.
The Messenger casually appeared in my safe shadow, sitting back. He peeled a goggle with three green, glaring 'eyes' off his head and handed me a bottle of water. "There you go, champ. Drink all your heart's content. We're only in the middle of a friggin' desert, ya know."
I nodded my head at the asian teen, took a big swig, and exhaled after a cool gulp.
He folded his arms and smiled gently. "Well…no broken nose yet. For a guy so quick to drop out of the whole 'good guys of Titans' Tower' business, you do seem bent on keeping your fangirls happy."
I glared at him out of the corner of my goggles.
"Okay. Fine. Fangirls and creepy backslidden Catholics with a penchant for dusty basements and watching Full House reruns."
I chuckled helplessly.
"Heheheheh…," he leaned his head back on two folded arms. "Ah….I'm no Burgess Meredith, but I'm bound to get an Oscar in some fashion or another for being here, right?"
I shrugged.
"Well, I suppose it's a noble attempt. A noble lie by a noble savage. Alas, Babylon, your golden gates cry for the huddled masses of Japanese teenagers no more. Your heart has been washed to deluded glory by exuberant reruns of Outlaw Star and far too many origami papercuts…."
I smiled. A beat. I looked at him. Sideways thoughtfully. And in the deadpan of my glare, I'm sure even he could interpret the throbbing question on my head then and there.
What are you doing here, Messenger?
Why are you helping me so much?
Why? When it's my mission and not your prerogative?
He stared at me…then out at the fights.
A deep breath and he uttered: "Even Batman has his sidekicks, eh Noir? Not every loner is entitled to lonesomeness." A beat. He smiled and gestured: "Take Terra for example. The golden mean of this entire….er….'operation'. At one time she was so despondent and so put off by the tragedy bleeding around her that she decided to live a life of perpetual loneliness. And that's what she got. Or so….she assumed."
"…..," I leaned my head to the side. Blinking under my goggles.
He looked my way. A smile. "She's about to be heinously and annoyingly bugged by the biggest fanboys she's ever come across."
"…..," I smiled wide.
"Heheh….as long as you don't get your neck broken on Bullwinkle's crown over there," he pointed at Wildebeest.
"……," Wildebeest looked over. He did a double-take as he saw the Messenger for the first time.
I didn't know whether to flinch or wince or turn invisible or knock myself out.
"Hey! How's the Northern Exposure going, eh? Give us some maple syrup once you're done cavorting with your new date, eh?"
Wildebeest seemed about to get up and do something…when Pantha suddenly rubbed her cheek against him.
"Purrrrrrrrrr."
His teeth showed, and the beast seemed ready to break something. Preferably her skull.
So I ended up laughing breathily.
"Heh heh heh heh heh…," the Messenger slapped my shoulder above my metal arm. He exhaled long and hard. "Ohhh Noir. My only hope is that after all of this, you would…..w-would think of me as an ally. And not a villain."
I nodded, chuckling. A beat. I swallowed. I paused. "….." I looked to my left.
The Messenger wasn't quite gazing at me as he was gazing through me. There was a sudden sadness to his almond eyes that stabbed at my soul. His lips were a deadpan line as everything warm I had ever felt from him slipped away in one wet instant. And though he didn't shed a tear and though he didn't moisten a cheek, I could tell that deeply inside that cryptic teleporter, someone was mourning. Like having remembered a day on a hot sidewalk when he glanced down and saw a dead robin between his feet. Deflated and burned to a crisp.
A soreness filled my throat. I swallowed it away and still felt agonized by the fact that there was nothing I could say. And apparently nothing I could hand-signed either. I only wished—in one fashion or another—that I could convey just how good a person the Messenger was. And—no—he was never, ever responsible for Robin's death. He couldn't prevent it just like me and the other Titans couldn't prevent it. We were all crazy pieces of a shattered pinball machine trying to bounce back together again after the biggest and most beloved chunk of us was ripped out by dagger-sharp teeth. And it was the Messenger himself that showed me the solidarity and the invisible power of that transient pinball that my life had so faithfully become four and a half startling months ago when I rediscovered my limbless self in the arms of five, heroic and apologetic companions.
So I gave the metal limb to him too. I placed my left arm on his shoulder, squeezed warmly, and smiled.
And I knew it was more than he needed, though that lace of painful, deadpan doubt would linger on his face in the corner of my black, goggled eyes for hours to come.
He braved a smile, looked at me with rounder almonds and uttered: "What I can do…I choose to do…to help you save your friends all that's left from Red Aviary." An inhale. "All my talents….are yours…."
I nodded at him.
And Beast Boy keeps trying to get me a girlfriend……
FLASH!
Two figures wavered into existence in the shadows.
The smell of strawberries.
I made a face.
Ah jeez……
"Whoah! He multiplied!" Jinx hissed.
Wildebeest looked over, grunting curiously.
"No he didn't, Jinx…," Pulsade hissed back. She glanced over with angry, suspicious sapphires that pierced the darkness and found their way to the Messenger's face. "Who in the bloody hell are you?"
"Hey! The lipstick lesbians! Finally!" the Messenger beamed. "These are the ones you told me about, right Noir?" He grinned dramatically at me and pointed. "The lipstick lesbians!"
I almost pratfalled.
People were looking over.
The roar of the crowd from beyond seemed to dwindle.
"Uhm…..," a pair of cat eyes blinked from the shadows. "…have we met?"
"Oh….," the Messenger shrugged. "Mentally, on occasion…I'm sure. After all, the first time I ever waltzed into Wyldecarde's life, he was drowning in the endless desire of wanting to kick the ever-living-horse-manure out of you and Slade. I'd have held your torso still for him to beat to a pulp too if I had the guts! But then again, I do make it a law not to senselessly beat up any fair creature that happens to possess mammary glands. You do possess mammary glands, right Jinx? I'm sure that somewhere underneath that anorexic Alex Hamilton getup of yours you're bound to have some-"
"So is this your edge, Wyldecarde?" Pulsade sneered with a gesturing hand. Shaking angrily. "This sniveling whelp is what's gotten all our knickers in a twist!"
"Wow…..," the Messenger's lips hung open. 'Mesmerized', he leaned forward with a chin on his hand. "Please, madame. Just keep talking with that dripping accent of yours."
"Sod off."
"I swear! I'm almost aroused!"
"Nnngh….," Pulsade shook all over.
Suddenly, I too was shaking. I had a metal hand over my face. And my lips were trying not to show their curve.
"Hey!" the Messenger brightened even more, looked at the girls, and pointed his thumb at me. "He's laughing! You see that? Do you have any idea how much you two suck now?"
"I've never seen you around that smoking bloke before," Pulsade grumbled. "And I don't find it very sporting when I'm left out of the bloomin' picture!"
"Nah, you're not left out," the Messenger waved his hand. "The picture's merely out of focus! There's a simple remedy to that. I'm sure familiar with it. It's something called….'LIGHTING'."
I chuckled even more, shaking all over.
The Messenger pointed at me again. "I swear! He's helpless! He'll rip Cinderblock to shreds but be downed in one punch by Groucho Marx!"
Pulsade pointed at the asian teen's chest. "Now you listen here-"
"Hehehehehehe!"
"Jinx! Quiet!"
"He's funny…."
"Jinx, you're not helping…."
"Ah….right….," Jinx suddenly produced a blade of pink hex. CHIIING! A few gladiators nearby stirred nervously. SWOOOSH! Jinx aimed the blade at the Messenger's chest. "What say we give you a new pair of lips to smile with?"
"Like this?" and the Messenger emphatically grinned.
CHIIIIIING!
Jinx blinked….because the tip of Myrkblade was at her throat.
"…………," I stared.
"Eh heh heh heh heh….," she leaned back and 'retracted' her hex blade.
"………..," I smiled. I leaned on Myrkblade.
"Better face it, Misses," the Messenger shrugged. "Who am I? I am not a prophet. I am not a God. I am merely….," he looked sideways at me for a moment and then back at them, "…..asleep."
I chuckled again.
He pointed. "And there isn't any getting rid of me. After all, you yourself would have instantly shot my skull in from afar as soon as you saw me down here sharing water bottles with Wyldecarde. Cuz that's your style, isn't it, Mary Poppins?"
"…………," Pulsade glared.
"Essentially….it's not your style tonight," the Messenger smirked. "Because tonight, the Wyldecarde has played its hand. And it's too late to back out of the gamble at this point. And doing anything to hurt my buddy here—through him or me—would totally make something fishy in the fighting arena business and throw the proverbial, flaming wrench into the heart of Jacob Anderson's illegal enterprise and—in short—make you, Annie Lennox here, Mr. Hacker Extraordinaire somewhere, and Wildebeest there miss the golden bus of opportunity in ever acquiring the statue of Terra."
"………….," Pulsade was silent.
Jinx was biting her Cheshire lips.
Wildebeest's white eyes glared from a distance. His horns seemed to droop in sudden remorse.
"Face it….you're stuck with us….," the Messenger leaned back with folded arms. "Better work on our poker face. Cuz this is all going by Jacob Anderson's rules, and not yours anymore. When worse comes to worse—or as I like to see it—best comes to best, it'll be between Wildebeest and my fine feathered friend here. And to do anything to try and make it otherwise….would just sabotage everything."
"………," Pulsade folded her arms. An assassin shouldn't have to pout.
The Messenger was loving every minute of it. His grin said so.
And so did mine.
Pulsade looked at me. A slight twinkle in her blue eyes. Sarcastically bitter. "So…..the dummy finally scrounges up a ventriloquist, I see."
I frowned.
"Heh heh heh heh….," the Messenger chuckled. A beat. "Oh, you mean to insinuate that I'm the ventriloquist?" An innocent blink. A shake of the head. "Oh no, madame. No." He pointed at me. "He's the one you should be worried about sticking his hands up your asses. So if I were you, I'd keep an eye out for myself AND my girlfriend." A lean of the face, and an awkward menace that I had never before seen on the Messenger's face suddenly leviathaned to the surface. "A….watchful…..eye….."
"……..," Pulsade turned her back on him. A beat. "Ya know…..with the patterns and nature of Red Aviary which I have learned through extra-strenuous research along with 'J' to date…."
"Yeah?"
She reached for a half-concealed holster.
Jinx's eyes twitched.
The British assassin sneered. "….I don't see any legitimate reason why saving the whole Western Hemisphere would be put at risk if I just so happened desired to end your life!"
SWOOOSH!
She spun around.
Cl-Click!
Pistol clocked.
THWOOSH!
Aimed at the Messenger's forehead.
I gasped and moved to blur a limb at her-
CLAMP!
A pair of hands grabbed the barrel of the gun.
THWKKK!
Twisted.
YANK!
And twirled the weapon out of Pulsade's stretched hand.
"Nngh!" she grunted.
A green streak of light. A sudden knee to her chest.
And suddenly she found herself forced forward—plant!—into the barrel of a gun against her forehead. Her gun.
Her gun….in the Messenger's hand.
Aimed between her eyes.
"Eeek!" Jinx helplessly gasped. She seemed at a loss to summon hex.
Wildebeest stood up.
"…………," I sweatdropped.
"………..," a frown slowly turned into a smile again on the Messenger's face. "Now….it seems to me that we're at a disagreement."
"………..," Pulsade's teeth grit angrily.
"And….unless I'm mistaken…..there's a little something queer about an expert assassin like yourself having her very own gun turned back on her. Something about….I dunno….'honor and pride' of the marksman or some bologna. Hehehe….listen to me, I sound like a western outlaw or something, eh Wyldecarde?"
I nodded furiously. Sweating….
"So….are we at a disagreement, Mary Poppins?"
"Say yes, Leslie….," Jinx hissed. "Please! Say yes!"
"Bloody….freaking….bugger….," Pulsade shook.
"Are we?" the Messenger smiled like a Muppet.
"………," Pulsade clenched her blue eyes shut. Sighed. Then muttered: "Yes."
"I can't hear you."
"I said YES, you bloomin' septic! Now let me go before Jinx here slices all our heads off!"
"Hey! I wasn't about to—"
THWUMP! The Messenger tossed the pistol into Jinx's hands.
The sorceress nervously caught it. Cat eyes blinking.
"…….," Wildebeest slowly sat down.
I swallowed…breathing slowly again.
Pulsade slowly stood up, the red circle of a gun barrel imprinted on her forehead.
The Messenger folded his arms, sat down, and crossed his legs as if nothing had happened. And he was smiling again too: "Right then. Cheerio, pip pip, and all that luscious crap. I think you've got a Wildebeest to cheat into winning a few minutes from now. Better run along!"
"This….isn't….over…..," Pulsade pointed.
"Heh….," the Messenger smiled wide. "Is it ever?"
"…….," Pulsade stepped back into the shadows and gripped the hand of Jinx. "Let's go…."
"Uhm….k-kay….," Jinx looked helplessly at me.
I shrugged.
"We'll be watching, Wildebeest. Take ca—"
And the pink sorceress' voice disappeared along with her body as Pulsade vanished them both.
The Messenger whistled innocently and suddenly produced a clip of ammo from behind his back.
I did a double-take at it.
"I hate guns…," he mused as he juggled the clip up and down with a smirk. "…but not as much as I love making a self-centered 'murderer of justice' pee in her—ahem—knickers over a bulletless pistol being aimed at her skull for twenty seconds."
A beat.
"Hehehehehehe," he giggled to himself like a schoolboy.
I blinked at him.
You can be my ventriloquist any day………
Wildebeest snorted.
"Ladies and gentlemen! You've placed your bets! You've doubled the winnings! Now for the surprise special event! The first of many shockers to grace the bloody stage tonight! Two brand new fighters shall go face to face! Blind to each other's powers! What talents do they possess and how will it shape the path of tonight's dramatics! Feast your eyes on the stage for the new challengers!"
Thunderous applause. Cheers. The figures of two combatants marching up into the gold cage.
I looked over.
A beat.
My eyes widened under my goggles. I jumped up and walked over towards the edge of the alcove to peer out…as did some other fighters.
The Messenger got up and crept over to my side. "Someone you know?"
My mouth was agape.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
There was a dark haired fellow of Eastern descent and garbed in all sorts of medieval, oriental weaponry.
But I was looking past him.
I was looking past him….at a young man barely out of his teens. A young man who stood tall. Clad in blue jeans, a blue undershirt, and a leather jacket of solid black. Rusted chains dangled from his waist belt as he cracked together knuckles of silver-tipped fingers and paced himself away from the Asian fighter. His face was a constant, stony glare…with even more rock-hard eyes of piercing blue beneath a short roof of jet black hair. Something about him moved mountains in a single whisper. There was a glistening of his silver tipped fingers as he stood still at his end of the cage, and I saw within a flash of black blinking a motorcycling stranger outside of the Shepherd Plain ranch with a bazooka suddenly over his shoulders and gone again.
His head turned and—if even for a second—I could have sworn he saw me across the bars, the plastic, the metal slabs, and the dark shadows.
And something inside of myself small and denied shivered.
Fright?
Cheering crowds.
Flashing light.
The applause of a middle-aged man atop the balcony.
The asian fighter bowed before producing a nagin ata and aiming it at his opponent.
The stranger merely cracked his neck. Glaring.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Prepare yourselves! For……BUSHIDO versus HULL!"
The latter of the two finally struck a pose. With a rustle of his jeans and black leather jacket, he pivoted his arms around and held his fingers together. Tiny bolts of light echoed from the stranger's fingers and in a flash of silver—CHIIING!—a violently exotic sword appeared out of nowhere and into his grasp. The hilt was a circular disc upon which a curved, two-and-a-half foot blade spun almost mechanically within the grooved-track set for it.
SHVVVVVVVVVV!
The blade spun and spun until—supplied by a sparking touch of silver fingers—the hilt flickered and the blade stopped impersonating a buzz saw.
SHVVVVVVVvvvvvv-Clack! The blade snapped into place. 'Hull' stood ready with his sword.
"……," I blinked.
"LET THE FIGHT BEGIN!"
Bushido took a deep breath. "I'll be honored to die fighting you."
Hull merely sniffed.
"You will…."
And the two rushed in to meet each other.