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Synapse

 

Synapse lowed her arms as the shockwave had passed, looking with slight bewilderment as the fight began to get even stranger when the small, liquid form of Bloody Mess joined the fight.  Although not sure what to make of the strange figure, until Foreshadow indicate he knew who it was, Synapse was at least initially relieved he appeared to be on their side.

 

Focusing back on the blond haired Battle Brother, Synapse once again sent out a blast of red psychic energy at his mind.  This time she had better results, as Jack cried out in pain, reaching up to grip his head as he staggered a step.  Malcom also flinched, as if he felt the pain as well.

 

That makes me somewhat question the circles you run in.  She teasing responded to Foreshadow before reaching out with her telepathy towards the strange liquid figure.

 

Bloody Mess then heard a female voice in his head that had a British accent.  Cheers.  Do not be alarmed, but Foreshadow wanted you in on our little private party line.

 

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The Hound

 

"Sweet Mary mother of Jesus" cursed the Hound, hopping from side to side and chasing his tail. It looked like he was dancing on hot ashes. And it sounded like he was talking English through the vocal apparatus of a dog. 

 

He was beyond skittish. He didn't want one of those boots kicking him. That would be bad. Possibly lethal. 

 

"Hey you, Mr. Stompy, that's right you!" he yelled at Jack. "You got a good shoe cleaner? With all that stomping your feet? Yeah?" he said, encouraging the battle brother. "Guess what you stepped in? That's right. A canine special. Delivered out of the back door. Fresh and pungent. You get my drift? Har har har! That's what happens if you stomp your feet without looking, my friend. Good luck getting that out! Har har har!"

 

 

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GM

 

Malcom seemed to be stirred up from Froeshadow's taunts, as he tried to track the movements of the agile crime fighter.  "Oh yeah?   Let's see how hard you fall when I get a hand on you!"  He shouted as he stepped after Foreshadow, launching a powerful right hook.  But Foreshadow ducked down just in time, his cape briefly flaring above him and masking how close Jack was behind.  Just as the cape dropped down after the costumed crime fighter, Malcom saw Jack right in the path of his punch.  But it was too late.

 

Jack was just looking up from glancing down at Harry who had run over to taunt him.

 

*WHAM*

 

Malcom connected solidly with Jack's lower jaw, snapping his head back and sending him flying backward into a nearby parked car.  Malcom seemed to stagger slightly at the hit, as the shocked look remained no his face.

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Bloody Mess

 

Bloody Mess knocked the side of his head with a bloody fist. "Hey? What da? Get out of there! There's a damn woman in my head! Get her out!" he muttered. 

 

He would have been quite concerned, and ready to engage in a massive session of head butting the pavement. But right now, there was someone trying to splat him. Someone whom, he thought, had a pretty good chance of being able too. 

 

"I'm gonna give you a good old uppercut, you bozo!" he shouted at. "You hear? I'm gonna upper cut you! That's right, I'm gonna upper cut you so bad!" he declared, quite oblivious in his state of excitement and rage that he was telling his target exactly what he was going to do. 

 

He then proceeded to execute a rather sloppy uppercut. 

 

"What? You saw that coming?" he gasped, quite shocked as the blow missed. 

 

"To the heck with this! I need my body back!" he concluded, before darting into the Chevvy and seeping back into his body that ballooned up to its normal consistency and beyond, the super powered charged blood swelling his muscles till it looked like they might burst. 

 

 

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Mess, I don't know why you are here.  But, listen up.  The other voice in your head.  She says their brains seem odd.  And seeing as she spends enough time in people's heads to act as a mental landline.  I'd say it's probably good to give it a listen.  The guy I'm here to catch is the psychic sort.  So, maybe he's done something to them.

 

While talking Foreshadow had drawn his staves.  Twirling them in the typical figure eight formation attributed to Escrima.  Except, every time Malcolm neared him he would strike.  A small jab here, a poke there.  The thrusts weren't hard enough to be painful.  Which was already a difficult task as it were.  But, to annoy.  Until finally, Malcolm came at him swinging.

 

Foreshadow bent back at a near 45 degree angle completely avoiding a haymaker of a blow then combined his staves together into a single long pole.   The angered Battle-Brother would turn around and prepare to charge the acrobatic hero.  It was exactly as Foreshadow planned.  Thrusting out his combined staff without lunging he slammed it directly into Malcolm's collarbone.  The large thug's own momentum coming to a complete halt and actually knocking him off his feet.  At the same time, Foreshadow was sent int the opposite direction.  Only stopping from falling off his feet by the butt of his staff slamming against the ground and supporting his weight.

 

 

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Bloody Mess / The Hound

 

Bloody Mess knocked the other side of his head in befuddlement. "What, there is a man in there too? Get out, get out, ya bozo!" he muttered, a little scared. He gave his head a few powerful knocks. Fortunately, whilst his head was reasonably big, there was a paucity of contents to damage. 

 

Lamentably, the Mess seemed to latch on to the fact he was hearing voices in his head rather than the content of those voices. He was a little distracted, what with the punching and fighting and stomping. 

 

The Hound, for his part, skittled this way and scuttled the other. 

 

"That's right! That's right. I'm a talking dog! Eight blinkin' marvel of the world. You don't want to miss me, do ya? A talking dog!" he yapped in English. "Who knows what I might do. Laser Vision! Freezing Breath! Radioactive excrement! That's right! Watch where you put those feet! Could get messy!"

 

 

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Synapse

 

Well, he’s a bit slow on the uptake.  Synapse commented over the mental link as Bloody Mess seemed confused about her initial greeting and wanting to have her out of his head.  While Foresahdow tried to convince the pugilist to remain in the mental network and knock down one of the Battle Brothers, the young British woman focused back on the one she had already managed to hurt with a metal blast.

 

Once again red psychic energy shot out at Jack, causing him to snarl in slight pain as he was pushing himself back to his feet.  But despite the hits he had taken thus far, both mentally and physically, he surged off the follow up mental attack with little after effect.

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GM

 

Malcom shook his head a moment to clear it before pushing himself back up off the pavement.  His gaze focused back on Foreshadow as his eyes narrowed.  "Think you're so fancy with your flips and sticks and…" he trailed off as the talking dog darted over, jabbering at his feet and distracting him.

 

With a snarl, the large Battle Brother aimed a kick at the transformed Harry.  "Get lost you mutt!"  But Harry was far too fast for him, darting out of the way and slipping away as he continued his insults. 

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Bloody Mess

 

"Yelp" screamed the Hound. "Save me!"

 

He was probably talking to himself, but the Mess took head, punching his head back to its normal puffiness. 

 

"Dontcha worry! I'm back an' in da Savin' bizzness!" he grunted with a big grin. 

 

With a few mighty hops, a few powerful strides, he was in Malcolms face again. 

 

"Ya lousy bozo! Trying to stomp on a poor little dog!" he said, slamming one fist into one palm. 

 

"Imma gonna pound you to mush, ya hear?"

 

And with that, he swung wide fists, righty then lefty, hopping that the Battle Brother would choose to block his knuckles with his face. 

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GM

 

Mess' punches found their mark, hitting Malcom in the chest and stomach, but it was like hitting a concrete wall.  Malcom seemed little fazed by the attacks, looking down at Mess.  "There you are."  He commented.

 

Over by a nearby parked car, Jack climbed back to his feet, recovered from having been inadvertently hit by Malcom.  The blond Battle Brother also focused on Mess, as he ran forward toward the pugilist. 

 

"We have been wanting some payback!"  He called out as he took a wild swing at Mess.  But the canny fighter was ready, and deftly ducked under the blow, bobbing back up ready to keep fighting.  "Stand still damn it!"  Jack called out in frustration.

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"Don't forget the butt.  I didn't spend an hour today doing barbell hip thrusts to not get at least one compliment."  Foreshadow spat backed at Malcolm.  Seemingly unconcerned with the threat the pair posed.  For a moment, he felt too comfortable.  Distracted from the very real fact that they were an ever-present distraction from finally getting his hands on his precognitive foe.

 

Foreshadow chased after Jack upon seeing him rush for Mess. The pair seemed all too happy to gang up two on one.  It was a sound choice, if not a bit too dismissive to the fact that technically they quartet of heroes outnumbered them.  Bloody Mess appeared to be the most threatening one in the area.  Able to hurt them with his fists alone.  Which meant they'd have less trouble giving Foreshadow his own share of broken bones when they ganged up on him.  No sooner had Jack's fist completely missed Mess than Foreshadow had caught up with the pair and swung.  The moment his staff made contact with Jack's stomach and Foreshadow's own shoulder he would swing back and strike against the other side of his abdomen to no avail.

 

Well not for nothing, but why can everyone I fight either lift a car or carries enough ammo to make a small militia jealous?  These guys definitely work in concert.  Super-strong, durable, punches are thrown solidly enough to be a potential threat.  Anything else we need to know Mess?  Aside from why they seem to really hate you. 

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Synapse

 

Must be something about the dark cape and mask that attracts those types.  Synapse replied over the mental link.  She took a moment to glance over at Bloody Mess, who was now back in his normal body.  You know love, it would be nice if you stopped trying to resist this.  We are wanting to better coordinate how we are going to beat these two blokes.

 

The British woman then focused back on Jack as red psychic energy once again flashed in the darkness and struck the blond Battle Brother's mind.  Jack grunted slightly once more but was again able to shake off the mental attack.

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The Hound looked shocked as the two battle brothers brawled. 

 

"Damn damn damn!" he muttered through canine lips, his eyes wide and stuffed to the brim with fear. 

 

"Freddy, run! run away! Every man for himself! Abandon ship! Game over!" he yelled, voice ragged with adrenaline. His brittle bravery, paper thin at the bets of time, snapped completely, and he was left only with the urge to run like the wind. 

 

"Better part of valour!" he explained as he scuttle away through the streets, intent on finding a place to hide. 

 

 

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GM

 

Malcom briefly regarded Harry (in dog form) as he yelped and then turned tail in ran.  The Battle Brother then focused back on the fight taking place.  He glanced at the darting form of Foreshadow briefly and took a quick glance over to where Synapse was still standing away from the melee, but then focused his gaze back on Bloody Mess, who was going toe-to-toe with Jack.

 

Stepping back closer to Mess, Malcom swung a large fist at the shorter man's head.  Mess easily ducked underneath, but the attack was not actually meant to hit Mess, but to make him duck in order to set up a follow up by Jack.  "You cannot dodge forever."

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Bloody Mess

 

"Hey ya bozo, even with those sloppy punches, you have a point" agreed the Mess, backing off slightly. 

 

He crouched down and gave a mighty big leap into the air, landing, with a little wobble, on a nearby rooftop. 

 

"So come and get me, if ya can! Cos you can't punch me up here" he laughed. 

 

Then, with a little twitch of his eye, a little spasm of his little finger, he concentrated on Malcolm. He felt the churning blood, and started poisoning it. It wasn't really something he understood or did consciously. He just knew that if he concentrated on someone, he could thin their blood. 

 

And whilst he liked a brawl, he also needed to even the odds a bit...

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GM

 

As Mess reached out and took control over Malcom's blood, the Battle Brother staggered slightly as a look of exhaustion came over him.  But he maintained his footing and at least partially shook off the effect, staying on his feet and in the fight, but he at least seemed to be a little bit slowed by the manipulation.

 

Jack had been about to launch a left hook at Mess when he leaped away.  The blond Battle Brother followed Mess' path with his eyes, a scowl coming to his face.  Taking a couple of running steps, he easily leaped after the pugilist, his right fist cocked back as he went.  But as he reached Mess and began to swing, the crafty fighter again dodged aside and the Battle Brother went flying past, his fist hitting only air, muttering curses as he went.

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Foreshadow had to admit the slapped together patchwork teamwork was going less smoothly than he planned.  Sure, when it came to planning he was a spur of the moment sort of guy.  But, this was definitely not a cohesive unit.  And now there was an entire building in the way of finishing off one of these Battle Brothers.  Okay, yeah he's not going to be singing mental kumbayas anytime soon. Maybe his partner will be a better listener?

 

Reaching for his multi purpose staves, Foreshadow once more shot a grapnel line.  This time in pursuit of Jack and Mess.  When it came to the canine in need, he would place keeping him safe in Synapse's capable hands.  Upon landing on the roof Foreshadow placed himself between the pair and began to spit out, "Alright, not that I mind this whole not dodging forever thing.  But, I think you're taking my stamina for granted.  I'm ready to go all night."

 

The plan was simple.  Jab, jab, and jab some more.  Foreshadow stepped in towards Jack and began circling around the roof.  Treating the open space like a ring he would alternate in direction at random times.  Change the tempo of his punches.  But, never divert from the jab.  It was a flurry meant to create more damage in multitudes rather than one single powerful blow.  And really it only served to hurt his own fist. 

 

Or so it seemed...

 

In reality, there was a small air of predictability to his seemingly erratic footwork.  Foreshadow would make sure to always wait before throwing his left hand out. Waiting for Jack to turn his head to face away from Mess. The punches acting as nothing more than a distraction so as to provide an opening for the less than the less than cohesive pair to act in unison.

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Synapse

 

His partner, the talking dog?  Synapse initially replied as Foreshadow suggested adding the Hound to the psychic network.  Alright then, worth a go.

 

Glancing over toward where she had seen the unusual dog dash off to, the British heroine spotted him and was able to reach out with her telepathic abilities to try to bring him into the psychic network she had set up.  Cheers love, don’t be alarmed, but Foreshadow thought you might be a bit more up for trying to work together against these buggers.

 

But even as she was trying to add Hound to the telepathic link, she watched as Foreshadow took off up to the rooftop to follow after Mess and one of the Battle Brothers.  Oh, that’s right, just leave me an the dog down where to face this one by ourselves.  She commented as she turned to face the Battle Brother still on street level. 

 

Deciding to try a new approach, Synapse projected a beam of psychic energy at the Battle Brother, one designed to shut down his motor reflex skills and render him paralyzed.  The psychic attack hit the large target and though he tried to resist the attack, he was soon frozen in place, unable to move.

 

Okay, that might hold him for a bit.  She then stated over the telepathic network.

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Bloody Mess

 

"Huh, I can go all night too!" grunted the Mess, slamming his fists together and rumbling his mouth as a kind of makeshift battle cry. 

 

He ducked and weaved, shuffling his feet, just like every boxing lesson had drummed into him. Whilst slow of head normally, the Mess had a natural brutal cunning with street fighting. 

 

And so he kicked, just to shake it up. To let the Battle Brother know he wasn't a clean boxer. 

 

But he put his foot down, not intending to actually kick with it, and move forward to give a straight right, full of might pumped up muscle!

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GM

 

The combined attack from Mess and Foreshadow had Jack back on his heels, with Mess landing a solid hit on the Battle Brother that caused the blond haired man to grunt as he took a step back, clutching at his side where Mess had landed the hit.  "You're tough, I’ll give you that."

 

Then he seemed to stop, glancing down at the street below, seeming to sense the trouble his partner was in.  Then suddenly he leapt back down toward the street, propelling himself at Synapse as he swung a large fist at the British heroine.  Synapse was unable to get out of the way, but the blow was only a glancing one, slamming against her telekinetic forcefield which took the brunt of the blow, but still some of the impact managed to get through.

 

"What did you do to him?"  Jack shouted as he stood between Synapse and Malcom.

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Foreshadow chased after Jack.  His stride doing its best to match the larger man's bountiful leap.  Whipping his swing line out towards a telephone pole he would then wing down to the ground.   From the outside looking in, it would be hard to believe that Jack could squash him like a bug with how much he kept running all over the street.  And then...he hit Synapse.  Or rather her force field.  But, Foreshadow wasn't looking to see how much of a beating it could really take.

 

Renowned athletes were praised for how they operated in the clutch.  That moment of anxiety where all the pressure was on and one needed a win.  But, that was when all the pressure was on their individual action.  It was an entirely different matter seeing someone he had grown quite fond of.

 

Fine, I get why David wasn't fond of this whole team thing    Foreshadow's lips pursed together and he whistled low as he could to get Jack's attention.   "So...tall, dark, and brain dead.  Let's be perfectly clear.  You are going to lose this fight.  Now don't get me wrong you were always going to lose.  That was decided the moment, you came up to us like you weren't anything other than hired muscle.  But, now.  Well, now, your next stop isn't going to be Blackstone.  Oh no.  Now, I'm going to make sure you get a front row seat to the hospital room of your choice."

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Synapse

 

Synapse took a few steps back after managing to withstand Jack's powerful attack, her side aching slightly from the bit of the concussive force that had managed to get through her forcefield.  As Foreshadow arrived to try to distract the Battlebrother, she scowled slightly as she focused on the blond haired super-criminal.

 

"You will have to wait in line love."  She commented as Foreshadow made his statements about making things painful for the Battlebrother.  "As I am not feeling as inclined to be gentle as I was with his friend.  I plan to leave him with a splitting migraine that lasts weeks!"


And with that, she unleashed another mental blast at Jack, who was appearing a bit out of sorts at Foreshadow’s words, causing him to be caught off-guard from the powerful mental attack that assaulted his brain.

 

"AAAAAAAHHHHH!!!"  He cried out, clutching his head as he collapsed down onto the pavement only to lie there moaning in pain.

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GM

 

Nearby, the other Battlebrother was still frozen in place, but struggling against the effect with as much effort as he could muster.  Just as his companion went down and he felt a bit of the attack, Malcom managed to regain control over his body, taking a reassuring step forward just to be sure he was actually able to move again.


He then quickly locked his gaze on the British super-heroine who had paralyzed him and had just all but put Jack out of the fight.  Running forward a few steps, he leapt over at Synapse swinging a wild swing at her head.  "You witch!"  He yelled as he made his attack.

 

But Synapse was not caught off guard this time, and managed to duck down under the wild swing, taking another few steps backward as Malcom landed on the ground near where she had just been.

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Bloody Mess

 

"Toad!" called back the Mess. "Anyone jumping around like that is a toad!" he said, pleased with his insult. 

 

He jumped down after Malcolm in exactly the same manner. 

 

"You don't go hittin' the dames, either, ya damn hobo!" he said, angry now that both of them were trying to punch Synapse. "That's just wrong!" he said, cheeks flustered with his blood. And this was pretty super charged super blood, so that was pretty darn super red. 

 

He pulled back his fist and let loose a lightning fast punch, fuelled by righteous indignation and the horror of dame-punching, and made darn sure that said lightning fast punch landed squarely on Malcolms face...

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Foreshadow eyed the man kneeling in pain in front of him.  "Let me make the bad pain stop then."  The point of his club was turned to the front, his upper body moving in tandem to the right slightly in preparation. Then in one fluid motion he, flipped the point of his staff out to the back, so that his arm and the cane stood now in line, and fully extended out to the rear. Next, bring your arm and the cane around from the rear to the front, along with a horizontal line. His arm remained perfectly straight as he twisted it in a 180-degree arc to strike Jack in the temple.  His other arm would move in junction in a sort of pulley motion as he jutted it into his throat.  Before finishing the combination and twisting his right hand in another 180-degree arc to strike Jack on the opposite side of his head.   This blow was the one that sent the large man's skull crashing to the street below.

 

He would push his feet along the ground to seamless twist his body to the side of Malcolm's prone form.  With equals amount of anger, he would raise both staves above his head.  Slamming both staves into Malcolm's abdomen.  Foreshadow's shoulders jerked in pain as even the man's abdomen were like striking a wall at the level of resistance he was encountering.  

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