Billyboy

Caper rolled as he landed and stood quickly, the weariness already waning as his powers returned. He bolted down the corridor, his teleportation still not working, and managed to get lucky enough not to be blown up by hidden trip mines. He doubted the rikti would be as lucky, however, as he was throwing smaller circles behind him. The mines weren’t explosives, at least not these, but they would be quite a distraction. The design had been made back in the old days when he was a nonlethal agent, crafted by the ingenious Midas Phillis. When stepped upon, the mine would spread a large cloud of smoke and imitate the sound of a barrage of gunshots, hopefully distracting the enemy for a good long time.

The secret agent turned a corner and pulled out a syringe, fumbling with his sleeve for a frustrating moment, growling a cursing softly as he pulled it back and searched for a vein. He found one and stuck the needle in, using a concoction made by Longbow, which was much like superadine for the good guys. It would give him the jumpstart he needed, but without any of the ugly troll side effects.

Caper grunted as open wounds appeared all over his body and his nerve endings began to burn as though they were aflame. Damnable rikti tricksters. Fighting in the rikti war had taught him a bit about the mind powers they held, and while he knew they were dangerous no matter how experienced you were, this simply wasn’t the type of trickery that would phase him.

Chertak’s blade came down and Caper teleported behind the alien, sights set on the thing’s head. He was just about to fire when he heard a click from behind him, the click of a weapon that was most certainly not plasma based.

Cursing himself for letting the mind tricks distract him from hearing the Maltan’s footsteps, the secret agent tried to teleport again, but it was too late. The sapper beam hit him and disrupted his powers completely, even bringing his senses down to a normal human’s level, which was similar to going deaf and blind to the super.

Backup plans, backup plans, backup plans.

Caper yanked a device that looked much like a drill from his belt and aimed in back at the T-bend, firing and sending the end right into the wall, spinning madly. It hit the metal and dug in, the shot several tinier drills in to secure a hold.

The gas grenades hit just as the grappling hook began to pull Caper forward, and the secret agent quickly wrapped the line around one hand as his body began shutting down. With a muttered, “Have fun with that” the super cascaded down the hall and rolled around the corner and he released, in a daze and hoping the two groups wouldn’t be happy to see each other.

Caper, making sure to follow the rules, teleported ten feet forward with every step he took, just fading out and back in farther along his chosen path. Doing this, he was speeding through the maze quite easily, and he had to wonder if this place may just be a bit too amateur for him. The secret agent had been in mazes before, what evil genius didn’t have one? He doubted this would be any more dangerous.

He heard footfalls ahead and deftly stepped to the side of a trip mine, which was beeping ever-so-subtly, but enough for him to pick up with his incredible senses. A telltale whrrr told Caper that the opponents ahead were carrying plasma weaponry.

The super powered secret agent smiled. He knew which group would be carrying plasma weapons. The rikti. Chuckling to himself, he teleported directly into the intersection without his weapons drawn. A barrage of crackling energy greeted him, but he quickly teleported away back around the corner, mapping out their positions in his head. He’d gotten a good glance and was almost sure where each alien was.

Without warning and without a sound, Caper appeared in the middle of the rikti battalion, his pistols drawn and already firing.

Podo shook with laughter at Becky’s antics and waved as she left, hiccupping violently. “Farewell wherever you fare, swordswoman Little Miss Attitude!” the goblin shouted after her, spittle flying from his mouth. “May your blade strike for the good of all good people!”

The goblin spun the bar stool around once, accidentally knocking the bottle from the counter. His robotic arm extended and grabbed it before it had a chance to shatter on the ground and replaced it back on the bar, its hydrolics almost sounding like a sigh. Out of the corner of his eye, Podo noticed a beautiful woman speaking to him. Suddenly, as his mind caught up with his brain, he realized she had just offered to heal him.

“Many thanks, kind humanoid, I would be in your debt if thou were to fix my foot!” he slurred, noticing her pointy ears and otherworldly eyes and guessing she may not be fully human.

((OOC: I just noticed, it’s kind of funny that Podo’s foot is hurt, out of any part of his body. Just look up the definition of podo if you don’t get it! )

With a smirk, Caper watched the men walk out of the bar and with a flash was himself again. He couldn’t wait for the fight to begin, then he could get out of this cesspool of scum. He glanced at the bar just once and saw Podo, thought him vaguely familiar, and disappeared again. He reappeared back at the arena doors before the Maltans arrived again, seeming as though he had never moved at all.

Podo, whose drink was nearly gone and whose remaining eyelid was drooping, looked a bit dumbstruck. “Many apologies, friend human.” He slurred. “I shall not be entering the next fight, I wouldn’t think of intoxicating myself if I were. I wish I could help thee, but thou may need to find a different ally.”

Glancing down at his burnt foot, Podo nearly laughed. “Oh, yes, I could not feel that anymore. I do not think I need your painkillers, though I offer thee many thanks. If thou has anything to heal it, I would be in your debt, but the alcohol has dulled my senses and made me immune to the pain.”

-------------------------------------

Caper scowled as he looked down at the rikti from his perch on the dimly lit ceiling. This section of the bar was quite dark, and he had found cover easily enough near the curtains. He heard the whole conversation and hated the Maltans even more, he hadn’t expected even them to betray their race.

He fell in on his memories of the Rikti War. He had stayed in his home town the first three months, afraid that the aliens may attack, but it soon became evident that Paragon City was seen as more important. When a scientist named Midas Phillis created a giant mech called the Harvester, which sucked in plasma energy and shot it back through two frontal cannons, Caper offered his friend a bodyguard for the trip to Paragon, where they would both aid the war effort. They had nearly made it when Midas had received a distress call from back home, where an dark overlord had began laying waste to their now unprotected city. The scientist had turned the mech around, but Caper had continued on to Paragon City.

The secret agent would never forget the death and destruction that met his eyes in that battleground. Bodies had been piled on the streets, victims of the vicious alien attack. Caper had once used nonlethal ammunition supplied by Midas Phillis, but in Paragon he had not bothered to show mercy. He had used his explosive, electric, and combustion rounds, and a number of gadgets that had been made for him. Many rikti warriors had died at his hand. He still remembered the satisfying crunch that had resounded when he had kicked a rikti gunman in the head, twisting its helmet all the way around.

He’d joined Omega Team and entered the portal along with them. The rikti home planet had been… terrible. There was constant fighting, Hero One barely managed to keep them alive, and Caper considered himself very lucky to have seen the dimensional tear when he did. He’d teleported through as the rikti on earth had tried to use Portal Corp tech to reach their home planet once again, the only of Omega Team to come back.

Yes, the man had quite a personal agenda against those foul creatures, but he wasn’t about to do anything rash. These were gladiators, not soldiers. Plus, he would more than likely be kicked out, and he still needed to finish off the Maltans.

The agents walked back through the curtain and Caper leapt from his perch, disappearing as he landed behind the last man and reappearing, seeming to be an entirely different person sitting at a booth, a man with red hair and casually ripped clothes, compliments of one of his many spy devices.

“My sincere apologies for my rudeness.” Podo said sincerely. “I did not want the rikti killed, and thou were doing far too good of a job doing just that! He was hurt and I wanted to offer a yield, and I only saw one way to stop you.”

The crowd screamed as the explosives fell to the floor, jumping all over one another to escape the impending blast. Everyone cried out in terror as an explosion erupted, but they were surprised to see that instead of the explosives, it had been a burst of EMP. A small device, the size of a fingernail, dropped on the floor as Caper had teleported out, smoked on the ground, spent.

The explosives, totally unarmed by the blast, were quickly picked up and taken out by arena security. There was an audible sigh from all of the audience. Those Malta guys were crazy!

(OOC: Hope that’s alright, I took it that they were some kind of high tech explosive, seeing as how the group is Malta.)

Caper scowled and cursed, he should have kept better track of the agents. Well, at least now the crowd might realize how dangerous the men were and force them to leave, or leave before they were taken. He teleported a foot to the right, leaving the tranq darts in the air behind him, where they clattered to the floor. He could already feel his senses dulling a bit, so he knew he didn’t have much time.

Using his superhuman sight, an ability that allowed him to see what others couldn’t and aim with almost complete accuracy (though it was dulled a bit from the tranquilizer), the secret agent picked out every single Malta agent in the crowd as he began a midair spin, firing his pistols wildly at them. None of the crowd was in danger, he made sure, he was too precise to make a stupid mistake and get one of them killed. At least one shot went off at every Malta agent, more than one went to most, as the hero spun and shot, pulling more magazines from his bandolier and loading them quicker than the human eye could make out.

It ended as quickly as it had begun. Caper hit the ground, whirled about, his trench coat flying out behind him, and disappeared.

The secret agent, well out of the hands of Malta but feeling woozy, reappeared in front of the front desk.

“I’d like to enter the next fight.” He said plainly as he grabbed a form and quickly filled it out; put it on the desk and teleported into the examination room. He completed the test quickly, ranking high despite his Malta-induced handicap, and walked out with an identity card tucked into a pouch on his belt.

He’d take out the Malta pit battlers now that the spectating agents were in disarray. Then he’d be on the road again, most likely tracking down where the supers in the crowd had been teleported to.

Podo took the man’s hand, twisting his left weirdly so he wouldn’t have to shake with his robotic right arm. “Well met, CptCommie.” The goblin said. “Thou hast performed excellently in the arena, thine work was brilliant!”

-----------------------------

Caper noted the subtle movement, knew it would have been coming anyway. He guessed that this wouldn’t be a conventional bullet, but something to simply incapacitate, as they wanted to take the metahumans alive. It hardly mattered; he doubted it would work anyway.

The dart hit the back of the seat with a thunk. The man was gone. The gunslinger looked confused for a moment, then felt the cold end of a pistol barrel resting on the back of his head. Floating in the air behind him was Caper, his eyes narrowed at the confirmation that he had indeed been shot at. Lucky thing he had been born with the power to teleport, something he’d been forced to keep secret most of his life until he had taken up his heroic title.

“You make me sick.” The secret agent whispered as he pulled the trigger.

Podo laughed at Becky’s comment. “I have enough money for any drink thou might want to partake in!” he replied. “Goodly bartender, would thou be kind enough to bring my ally what she desires and bring me something strong?” he asked to the man at the counter, not really familiar with human drinks, since he had spent most of his hero career with teenagers. “I shall tip thee well!”

“Right away.” The bartender answered as he turned to the shelves. He returned a moment later with vodka and a drink Podo didn’t know of, but he could make out the word everclear.

“To new friendships and flawless victory!” the goblin toasted as he raised his bottle to Becky, then began downing the everclear.

---------------------------

A figure across the bar watched the monitors angrily, scowling as he watched the Maltans take members of the audience against their will. A brown duster sat atop his head, looking as though he had been born with it, while his lower face was wrapped in a similarly colored cloth. He wore a pair of brown and black tights on his chest, crossed by a pair of bandoliers, and his legs donned baggy brown pants held up by a tactical belt, a pistol on each hip, tucked into a pair of black combat boots. Over this the figure wore a deep brown trenchcoat, forming an aura of mystery about him.

The Malta agents disgusted him. He’d fought their likes, and the likes of many other evil organizations, for years. His favorite job was to work against those who took to the shadows, and more than one criminal syndicate and evil genius had met justice at the end of his pistol barrels. These men were the worst he had seen, though. Smart, tricky, and utterly ruthless, the Malta Group was a plague that needed to be wiped away quickly before they managed to create some real damage. Blackmail and murder was bad enough, but these disgusting creatures who dared to call themselves men did so much more.

“Malta.” The figure said gruffly as he stood and began a walk across the bar. Very suddenly, he disappeared from view, replaced by a confused looking man who had just been in the audience.

------------------------------

The mysterious man sat back in the seat he had just teleported into, switching the spectator into his place in the bar. He had likely saved the man a terrible fate, for he could sense the untapped mutation in the man, the reason he had chosen him.

The Malta agents drew nearer, and the man tensed, ready to spring up and begin an assault. There would be no way they wouldn’t notice the incredible readings they would receive from his mutations. Unfortunately for them, those mutations were too powerful for them to truly comprehend.

((OOC: Introducing my next gladiator, the super powered secret agent, Caper!))

“Victory!” Podo shouted, resting his burnt foot on Eve’s corpse. He bent down and wiped his blade on her back, then sheathed it. “Excellent work, my comrades. Let us celebrate! The drinks are my treat.”

With that, the goblin walked out of the arena, refusing to succumb to his limp. Remaining strong and proud, he plopped himself down on a bar seat and ordered a strong drink to dull some of the remaining pain.

Podo took the knife and bowed deeply. A hidden compartment in his arm opened up and he slipped the gift into it, smiling. He’d found a kindred spirit in Chertak, even if they were on opposite sides of the great fight. “I will not forget thee, friend.” He promised.

He turned in time to see Eve barreling their way. The goblin pulled his sword back out and snorted to clear the phlem from his throat. With a mighty hauck, he spit it the Devoured’s way for insult.

Last one.

Podo wanted this to end quickly, and with Becky at his side and the gunman suddenly returned, he had no doubt it would. Following the trail of bullets, the goblin leapt forward and plunged his sword at Eve’s throat, planning to use his momentum to open the gash further and fling off the blade and to safety.

Podo leapt to Becky and bowed to her again. “Thank thou for honoring my urgent request.” He answered. “I do not wish to harm the rikti anymore, he was an honorable fighter and claimed he would yield once he defeated the man on our team, who hurt his pride by attacking him while he was unarmed and yielding as we spoke. He will honor his request, I am sure, allow me to speak with him.”

“HOLD!” Podo bellowed at Becky as he saw her bring her sword down on the wounded rikti warmaster.

Suffering from a massive headache, Podo grunted as he moved the lifeless Devoured’s arm off of himself. He stood shakily, then winced as he remembered his damaged foot.

“Much thanks, human gunmen.” The goblin said to his new allies. “Perhaps I could now take you up on your offer for medical aid? I’m wounded fairly bad.”

Podo bent to take the medicine and thank the man, but Adam had refused to relent. Unable to dodge due to his foot, the goblin found only one choice. Using his robotic arm, he threw the man to the side and pulled out his sword with his other arm. Bracing it with both hands, he held the blade in front of him, forcing the Devoured to impale itself on the sword as it bared down on Podo and buried him under his great weight.

The ball of acid came forward and Podo rolled out of the way, but didn’t manage to move quite fast enough. The acid clipped his foot, burning the bottom of his boot off and singing his skin badly and making it bubble up disgustingly as it burned. Cursing, Podo stood and leaned his weight to his other foot, but he was now at a sore disadvantage.

The swarm came forward, but this time the goblin had the upper hand. Chertak had dropped his plasma pistol before when Podo had slashed his hand, and it had seemed to disappear, the rikti hadn’t even seemed to notice, but only Podo knew the truth. His mechanical arm, programmed for defense and naturally a technology scavenger, had absorbed the weapon into itself, integrating itself into the pistol the whole while Podo had been scanning for a fight.

The goblin lifted his mechanical arm and it opened up, revealing a swirling mass of plasma within its core. Taking the form of a cannon, it fired forth the burst, absorbing the swarm and continuing on toward the Devoured.

Podo was already moving again, the arm spitting out the remains of the rikti technology.

((OOC: I’m going to guess it’s Podo that Becky heard, Coldfire, but I can delete this post if I’m wrong.))

Adam’s arms came crashing down, but Becky was done in a green blur, Podo having thrown himself and pulled the woman out of harm’s way. He set her down and gave her a short bow, then turned his attention to Adam.

The Lesser Devoured was an abomination, to be sure. A human twisted and perverted into something terrible by the wretched Hamidon. How many times had Podo faced similar monsters in his home, Abaddon, where the evil god Immortal spawned twisted and terrible perversions of nature through magical rite and ritual often and ceaselessly? The little warrior had been trained as a hunter of those same monsters, his skills honed to become the great protector of his tribe. He knew how a monster worked, and how to defeat them. An unthinking beast simply cannot compare to unbridled skill, no matter how powerful.

“Let us show this wretched monster that it takes more than brute force to defeat a true warrior!” the goblin growled to his companion. Then, to Adam, he screamed, his sword pointed at the creature, “You are bested!”

Podo would not accept a yield in this case.

[ QUOTE ]
OOC: Adam on Becky and Eve on the thugs. Guess Podo'll have to wait a bit.

[/ QUOTE ]

((OOC: Bah! Is there anyone left who isn't engaged? I figured the thugs were on the rikti now.))

Podo nodded to Chertak, willing to remain back and allow his fight between the Family boss to go on unhindered. Johnny had insulted the goblin’s honor and beliefs in his battle lust, turning an offer of peace into a weakness. Podo could think of no greater injustice from his teammate, Johnny was on his own.

With a snap of the mightily corded muscles in his legs, the goblin shot through the air with a mighty jump. He was unhappy at the moment, the thrill of battle flown. Chertak had been an honorable and strong opponent, but he had no doubts about who would claim victory, and no doubts that Johnny would accept no surrender. Without a weapon, the rikti warmaster would be taken down. Snarling, Podo promised himself that he would schedule a personal duel against Johnny once this fight was finished, but for now he wouldn’t be foolhardy enough to put his team in jeopardy by striking him down. It simply wouldn’t be the thing for a great warrior to do.

The small man came down on top of a ruined building, balancing his weight perfectly as he landed on a bit of blasted wall. Glancing about, it wasn’t long before he noticed the remaining opponents, Adam and Eve. With another great leap, he cleared the distance between them and landed several yards in front of them, dropping into a roll to absorb the shock, pulling out his sword even as he did.

“Let us test your mettle against my metal.” Podo taunted to the largest, his eyes sparkling with inner fires.

A sixth sense told Podo to stay back, and it proved correct as the grenade sailed down at Chertak. Whoever was trying to help Podo was doing a terrible job at it. His shots were keeping the goblin away from his target, lest he be hit by attacks meant for the rikti!

Chertak chucked a rock, and Podo's arm shot up and snatched it out of the air. After hearing the shots and seeing the vapor trails, the goblin was fairly sure where the grenade and rounds had come from. Using his stronger robotic arm, he threw the stone at the spot, cracking the ladge CptCommie stood on and making it too unstable to stand on, though he had no intentions to send the man to his doom. He simply wanted time.

Turning his attention fully to Chertak, Podo thrust his sword into the ground and held his hands out to his sides, signalling peace. "Yield to me, rikti swordsman. Thou hath fought well and honorably, but thou cannot claim victory now. I will show thou mercy if thou wishes, please yield to me."

"Have at thee!" Podo shouted as the pistol fired. He leapt into the air and performed a spin, contorting his body to dodge the blast. The plasma whizzed by, but managed to burn his large belly viciously despite the fact. The goblin landed and sprang forward with respite, slashing at the rikti's hand as bullets whizzed down.

The blade came down at Podo, impossible to parry, but that hardly mattered, the goblin rarely even tried to block an enemy's attack with his sword. With reflexes honed by years of fighting dangerous beasts and twisted monsters, the warrior dipped to the left and spun, bringing his sword in to slash at the rikti's side. The attack scratched into the armor, but it was hardly deep and barely drew blood.

Now that he had gotten out of frontal combat, the goblin was in his element, he began a ferocious attack routine, flipping and slashing, staying away from the front of the warmaster as he spun to catch up and counter. Only the insane length of the blade kept the rikti parrying, and just barely. Podo was gaining ground, and it wouldn't be long until he moved into a position where he could lead with an uncountered thrust and skewer the rikti.

Unfortuanatley, the goblin's battle plan was ruined as his warrior instincts kicked in, screaming at him to get out of the way. He complied, knowing the sixth sense had saved his life countless time, and kicked off the ground and back, rolling.

Bullets whizzed down at the rikti warmaster from CptCommie's attack.

Podo leapt and flipped through the air, already swinging his sword at Warmaster Chertak. The massive rikti blade blocked his sword and the rikti pushed forward, forcing Podo into a backwards roll that he came up from with an upward slash. The clang of a parry rang once again, followed by the crowd's gasp as the Warmaster shoved and Podo's blade was forced to the side and the rikti blade slashed at him, forcing him into a sidelong roll followed by a wild leap to gain distance.

The rikti pursued, slashing in a manner that seemed wild to the crowd, but Podo knew he was a truly disciplined swordsman as he watched the calculated swipes, hard to parry and impossible to find a weakness in. At least, from the front.

The goblin jumped to his feet quickly and turned just in time to leap above a slash and continue over the warmaster, taking his large sword back and under himself in a slash for the rikti's head.