57 Friendly Spar
Ow.
Wiping the remains of my prop glasses from my face I get to my feet and scan the line-up facing me.
I think Butcher has realised that the others aren't going to be able to do much as other than the couple of people who are trying to wake up Animos, I guess the bult up momentum was enough to knock him out cold, everyone seems to be forming a half ring, looking for all the world like they are just here to watch a street show.
All except Butcher of course, he is walking menacingly towards me instead.
Idly I take note of the fact that he isn't wearing a mask, something that's understandable considering his affliction, but other than that he fits the general theme of the Teeth in that he's wearing bones and spikes and skulls and other voodoo shaman looking shit.
Still, my first plan may have failed, but that's what contingencies are for.
From out of a hidden pocket that I actually had to sew into the costume myself come a folded piece of fabric that I rapidly extend and hold over my head.
In bright tie-dye colours are the words 'Make love not war!' framed by peace symbols.
"Why must we fight? can't we all just be friends?" I say, ignoring the fact that I struck first.
Without breaking his stride, he grunts out a response.
"I'm going to rip your head off and fuck the neck hole." He threatens.
Well then.
...That's certainly something.
Dropping my banner, I hold up one of my hands in a hold gesture, one that he blatantly ignores.
"That's a lot to unpack." Is my deadpan response.
"It's going to be a lot to unload." He quickly responds and I can't help the undignified snort that leaves me.
"Haha, ok, that was a good one." I laugh, nodding my head in approval.
It really was a good one, if kind of gross to picture, if only since it's my decapitated head.
By now, he was close enough that the time for witty pre fight banter is about over, but that fits perfectly into my third plan.
I'm sure it will work this time.
In another rapid movement, I reach into another pocket, only this time I throw my hand forward in the same movement, sending a cloud of glitter towards my foe.
"Glitter bomb bitc-"
My triumphant cry is interrupted as Butcher disappears and reappears behind me, throwing me forward with a 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘨 like a grenade going off.
The heat washes over me to little effect and I roll with the momentum to get back to my feet, silently thanking whoever designed my clothes to be fire resistant.
Though not immune, I realise as I quickly pat out the burning edges of my shirt.
"Welp. I guess it's time we started beating the shit out of each other now huh?" I state with a smile.
Normally it would be the time I started trying to kill him, but well... we all know how that would end and I like my head without voices thank you very much.
Wait...
I like my head without any 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 voices. Then again, it has been a while since I've had a schizophrenia moment.
Not to mention, I'm not even supposed to fight him to a victory or defeat. I only need to stall long enough for Uppercrusts men to get clear and for the protectorate to arrive so that they can deal with him instead of me.
Doesn't mean I'm going to make it easy for him though.
In a burst of speed, I rush forward to engage the Butcher, only to suddenly feel an intense 𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘺 wrack my body.
It only makes me stumble a single step before I am back to moving as if nothing happened.
Now don't be mistaken, it hurts like hell. Almost as bad as everything Jason did to me, but by now pain isn't something that really concerns me.
If anything, it just adds a certain.. 𝘧𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳~ to the battle that only makes my smile wider.
I lead with a right to his sternum that he counters perfectly, knocking my blow wide but I use the momentum to spin around, landing a roundhouse kick right into his ribs.
He only grunts from the impact, taking a single step back before he responds with a flurry of punches that I weave between, keeping my feet fast and light so that he can't land a single blow.
He may be stronger and more durable, but I am certainly faster and more flexible, something I use to my advantage to the best of my ability.
Suddenly I see an opening, but some instinct warns me not to take it, so I don't and the next instant he stumbles, if only for a tenth of a second. But that is enough for me to take advantage of and my fist finds itself embedded right in his chest, knocking the wind out of him.
However he apparently doesn't much care for the ability to breathe as he ignores the impact from my punch and retaliates by grabbing my still extended arm with one hand and punching me in the face with the other.
Once. Twice. Three times before he swings my whole body by the arm and slams me to the ground.
Before I land, I twist my entire body, dislocating my shoulder as I do so, and manage to land a solid kick right in his face, making him stumble back and lose his grip on me.
Dust kicks up around me as I roll over the ground a few times before coming to a stop.
I think there's something to be said about the science of fighting and, more importantly, I feel like I've finally been able to understand that science recently.
I won't go so far as to say I'm a master martial artist or anything, but I'm pretty good at the whole fighting thing by now, and one thing I can tell from our brief exchange is that he is no slouch either.
It shouldn't be surprising, since he has thirteen sets of memories, each experiencing plenty of fights themselves.
The only thing that I think really evens things out skill wise, is that he is constantly being distracted by the voices in his head, lowering his skill level enough to match my own.
Ah well. The introduction is done with, not it's time for the fight to start for real.
Evidently he agrees as he pulls out a pair of daggers, if daggers were the size of a short sword.
In response to him arming himself I allow my original, and favourite, construct to push itself out from my back and hover menacingly behind me.
My ribbons hardly look anything like they used to. For one, the colours are simply much more vibrant and the ribbons themselves are visibly denser, looking as though they have been compressed many times over.
Then, to add to the changes, they now each have small, barely noticeable, inverted spikes running along their lengths, giving them better grip and allowing them to tear through flesh with ease. They also each end in a sharpened point, like a spear tip.
My foe disappears but I was expecting it and two of my ribbons dig into the ground either side of me.
When the explosion washes over me, it only manages to push me slightly, rather than sending me flying, yet I still have to rush to lift myself into the air as Butcher's blades slice through where I was a moment ago.
As he is still recovering from his swing, I make my ribbons bring me crashing right back down, aiming to crush his skull into the ground.
He disappears again and an explosion appears above me, sending me into the ground faster than I was anticipating, leaving me unable to land properly, crashing right into the tarmac.
Before I even have a moment to gather my bearings, another force impacts me as Butcher lands on my back, planting his feet in the middle of where my ribbons are emerging from and driving both of his blades through one of my lungs each.
Like a flower blooming in reverse, my ribbons rapidly coil around Butcher, attempting to crush him.
Right as I start to feel his bones creaking from the force, he is no longer there and another explosion sends me rolling across the ground, momentum that I use to spring back to my feet.
I can't beat him in a contest of strength. I can't use my speed to catch him by surprise and even if I manage to trap him, he can teleport away at any moment.
By all accounts, there is very little chance I can even hope to win.
𝘈𝘩𝘩𝘯~ 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨~
My body tingles with energy and 𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 and an overwhelming desire to do 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 to alleviate the feeling overcomes me for a brief moment before I manage to gather myself.
𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘬.
𝘈𝘩𝘩𝘩~
That's better, now I can focus.
Butcher disappears again, but this time I manage to catch him on his arrival by simple striking out in every direction with my ribbons and the moment I catch sight of him, I leap forward.
I throw a punch to his face and he catches it, pulling my arm to the side just as I was hoping he would.
Our eyes lock for only an instant before his snap towards my arm and he suddenly leans his head to the side, dodging the sharp blade of deep purple blood-metal that extends out from the back of my elbow.
Once again, he throws me away, hard enough that my back cracks the wall of a building on the side of the street, almost shattering it entirely.
Right. He can see my blood. He must have seen it flowing there early.
Fuck. He can 𝘴𝘦𝘦 my 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥.
Well then, I guess I'd better up the ante a little then.
Instead of dissipating the blade, I pull from the highest 'source' and just like with my ribbons blood like muscle flows out of my back, wrapping around my shoulders and making its way down my arms.
Unlike the violet of my ribbons however, the arms that form are a purple so dark that the resemble black, looking to be made of obsidian.
A moment later and my arms have been covered in a thick, muscular armour ending in wicked claws and with a long, sharp blade sticking out the backs of the elbows.
Bending my neck side to side, I resist a shiver at the pleasurable feeling of my neck popping back into place.
"Up for round two?~ Or can you only last a single round?~" I taunt, my ribbons spreading out invitingly around me.
Suddenly, my field of vision is filled with flame and two of my ribbons dig into the ground behind me to counter the force trying to push me backwards, leaving me with the sight of an angry Butcher right in front of my face.
My ribbons launch me over him like a slingshot and I land right in the middle of the street, where our fight started, just in time for Butcher to appear in front of me once again.
Heh.
His blades were already in motion to slash me before he even arrived and the world seems to slow down as his blades approach me, but I ignore them in favour of staring Butcher right in the eyes and I feel an exhilarating sensation when I notice his eyes widen.
But he has already committed to his attack and he has no time to change or react as a blood red spear launches itself out of the ground right behind him and into his back, piercing halfway through.
The surprise attack makes him falter in his own and I quickly parry away both of his arms with my own and counter attack by piercing his shoulder with my left hands claws while my right arm bends and swings, allowing the elbow blade to cut a deep gash into his leg.
Before I can push the advantage, he is no longer there and I turn to face the direction of the explosion, smirking at the sight that greets me.
The Butcher, standing among his Teeth, bleeding and battered, even if he doesn't seem bothered by the pain and the wounds are already healing. It still means something that he ended up like this in the first place.
But before I even get the chance to gloat, we are interrupted by the sound of roaring engines as a number of vehicles pull around the corner, each clearly emblazoned with the PRT logo and one car ahead of the rest rapidly drifts to a stop, alighting a pair of young woman in costumes.
As if it wasn't obvious already, I hear a ping come from one of my pockets, Hideout's way of telling me that I don't need to hang around anymore.
The Protectorate has arrived.
Still, I can't help but pout a little.
It was just getting interesting too.
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A/N: He~llo! Dear readers!
I am legitimately unsure of how long I have been awake as of right now. My flatmate has left for work twice in the time I have been awake and she only leaves for work at about half six in the morning. So it's been at least 24 hours, but I think I'm closer to 36 at this point.
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