ALERT!: There's a Blackguard in the Apple(Blackguard only)

The young man's eyes lit up as he watched the goon pull himself from the wreckage with ease. There was both excitement and anxiety building up inside of him at this very moment. Raising his fists up, it was obvious that Marshall had no actual fight training, relying solely on the fact that he was so damned resilient. However before he was able to react to the goon, in what seemed like the blink of an eye, the goon was buried in a gorilla sized crater and was being smashed into said crater by what seemed like a very dark version of a Super Saiyan..... or a demon. Regardless, Marshall was just frozen in awe as the goon was beaten down into the ground repeatedly.

"Whoa...." A moment passed and the city was quiet for a very brief moment before out of the smoke and crater came a super heated burst of plasma. Unable to even understand what was coming towards him, Marshall had no time at all to avoid the beams as they hit him hard, even harder than the fist. The young man was thrust backwards into a nearby wall, the shape and size of his body creating a perfectly chiseled outline inside the wall as the beam continued to light him up. "AAH!!" The super heated beam had no effect on his physiology, luckily enough, however was powerful enough to physically move the young man which, before today he thought impossible.

Lifting his hands to block the beam, people on the outside looking in would see the searing beam causing his skin to glow slightly, the same glow one would see coming from hot iron in a blacksmith's stoked flames. "UNGH!!!!" He was able to at least block the beam, the reflecting heat bouncing off his durable skin causing a flare and rendering him blind for the moment. Sightless now, he struggles to pull himself from the wall and block the beam with his hands, his teeth grinding together as he endures the extreme temperature. Though his skin was durable, his clothes were normal and even as he blocked the beam with his hands, the residual heat singed and even burnt large sections of his vest and shirt, leaving only tattered cloth dangling from his slim figure after only moments.

Unsure of what to do, as he was at the mercy of the extreme heat being blasted towards him, Marshall lifted a single foot before slamming it down onto the ground. The tremor would put any earthquake to shame as the street, concrete slabs, post signs, pretty much everything within the immediate vicinity shook and trembled as the street and foot paths all crumbled around them. The cracks and unstable ground created a moment of weakness for the goon as the large man stumbled and broke sight, the beam shooting over Marshall's shoulder and slicing a section of the building behind him off like a piece of cheese. This would create an advantageous opportunity, however, Marshall took the moment to instead nurse his singed skin for the time being. Despite how durable he was, and the beam having no real lasting effect on him..... it still burned like hell!

The young man huffed and puffed over his hands, shaking them slightly in the air and attempting to cool them off. He could feel the burn several layers deep into his own flesh, as if the beam had been trying to burn a hole right through him.... which seemed like the goon's plan. He even hunched over slightly, tucking his hands between his thighs and feeling the soft fabric against his tender, burnt palms. "Ow.... ow.... hot hot hot..... damnit, that stings!" At this moment, he seemed unaware of Miguel's transformation, focused entirely on his hands and the burning sensation in them. While Marshall was tending to his hands, the goon was still tripped up, having ceased blasting out his plasma beam while trying to regain his balance on a now crumbly and uneven street.

"That's more like it," muttered the assassin, as he watched Miguel stand and flipped a thumb up at him. Victor reloaded the gun, and began tracking for another target. He found Marshall, in a fight with another meta, and it appeared to be an even match. He lined up his shot, and let his finger begin to squeeze the trigger when Miguel just appeared between Marshall and his foe. But Miguel was different this time. Ashy skin, hair the color of blood, flashing golden eyes, a tail, and... horns? Ah. Fuck, thought Victor, before he moved the scope away from Miguel, Marshall, and the meta. Only to swing it back around towards them, as a laser beam shot out and struck Marshall. Victor followed the beam to its source and was centering on the head of the meta firing the beam when the ground shook, causing him to lose focus, as the building he was in shuddered, and seemed to jump slightly. Once he was done bouncing, he brought his eye back to the scope, and sighed to himself, as he saw Marshall nursing his skin.

"Dammit, kid. Worry about your sunburn later," he muttered to himself, before aiming at the laser-eye meta, who was still struggling to get his feet back under him. Victor squeezed the trigger of the rifle, which reacted with a SHOOM, and watched as the bullet flew forwards. The way he was set up, he was glad that Marshall himself had superhuman durability, as the bullet tore through the air, past Marshalls face, and into the left eye socket of the laser-meta. The bullet blasting past so close was sure to cut through the air, though Victor knew Marshall could take it. The other guy? Not so much. His head reacted much the same way the others had, and exploded like an over-ripe melon. Victor nodded in satisfaction and reloaded, as he swung the scope away from the area. Just in time to catch sight of 6 metas moving towards Marshall and Miguel.

"Well.... Guess I'm providing overwatch this time," he muttered to himself, as he stared down the scope and squeezed the trigger.

SHOOM.

He reloaded and turned to squeeze the trigger again when he saw something that troubled him. Where there had once been 6, there were now 3. One, he could count for, as the man was lying on the ground, sans head. The other 2, he wasn't sure what had happened to them. With a muttered curse, he pulled his head away from the scope, and scrambled to his feet, snatching the Mossberg up as he did. He was just in time, too, as the 2 men crashed through the wall to the right of him, and turned to face him.

"Well, boys. This is the end of the line for one us today," remarked the cyborg, staring at the two men. There was a tense moment as they all stared at each other, and then Victor jerked the shotgun up and pulled the trigger. The rounds it was loaded with were slugs, and his aim was dead on. The shotgun round blasted the man on the left in the throat, and dropped him, coughing to the ground. Victor pumped the rack on the gun, and turned to shoot the second man, though by the time he had the gun aimed at him, he was too close. The cyborg grinned, and dropped the gun, his hands slipping out and down in a cross, bringing his k-bar and his karambit out and down. The blades didn't do much to the man, cutting an x through the mans clothes, but the man did curse and skip back a beat.

"Not used to Atlas' powers, huh?" asked Victor. "I understand. If I was a cheap copy of the real thing, I'd be disappointed in myself too," he continued, before he jumped forward and kicked the man square in the chest. He obviously hadn't been prepared for it, as he grunted and fell backwards, out the hole he had created. Victor took the moment to sheath both knives and grab his Mossberg off the ground. He had the gun in hand when he felt a boot connect with his stomach.

Victor flew backwards, and slammed into a wall, and then fell to the ground with a THUD. He looked up, to find the other man standing over him, an angry red mark on his Adam's apple. Victor chuckled softly, and lifted a hand to point at it.

"Can't even take a real bullet like Atlas can," he remarked, as the chuckle threatened to build to a full laugh. The man responded with another kick to Victor, who relaxed as he flew through the wall this time, landing in the hallway. The man followed him through, only to be met with the business end of the Mossberg, pointed right as his crotch.

"If you thought that throat shot hurt," offered the cyborg, a manical grin spreading across his face, "this one might just put you in traction," he continued, before squeezing the trigger. The man dropped to the ground, holding the ruins of his crotch in his hands, and squealing softly, tears streaming down his face. Victor stood, drew back a foot, and brought it sharply forward, into the mans face. The crying and whimpering cut off abruptly, and Victor took the chance to load another round into the chamber of the Mossberg. Just in time for the shotgun to be torn from his hands, and tossed across the room. The man he had kicked out of the building was back, looking none to happy.

"Look, I can do this all day. Sadly, the same can't be said for your friend there. Take him, and leave, and I won't do worse to you," remarked the assassin, staring the man in the face.

Miguel felt a brief second of worry for the kid before noting that aside from his clothes the eye beams seemed to do nothing. His change in expression was only momentary, returning to the sensation of wanting a good fight. These guys were afterall pretty strong. Enough to take hits from him while doing nothing more than flinching at most, though he wondered how long that would last. Not like they were invincible if the gunshots were any indicator.  Well it sounded like he was hurt a little but not like by too much. ”Now I have to kick your ass out of principle,”  He said with a low growl, before noting that they no longer had a head. ”GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!” He cursed, kicking the now headless body through the air and into impacting the closest building which shattered the brick walling.

It seemed like the numbers for fighting was dwindling and he wouldn’t even have the chance to show his stuff off.  It took all he had not to knock a building down to kill this feeling. Instead he took two deep breaths and walked over to the new guy who looked not as built for this combat thing. ”You alright? That looks like it hurt a shitton,” His voice was a little harsh but he sounded like he cared at least a little. He was supposed to make sure people he was working with weren’t kill right? That sounded about right.

That was when he saw something. A glint in the corner of his eyes that gave little time to actually react. Without thinking he pushed at the kid and leapt back at the same time. A sharp pain lanced through his right forearm, Miguel feeling his back slam against the wall on the other side of the alleyway.  Looking to the source of the pain he saw what looked to be a large gash on his arm bleeding a nasty looking amount.  The thing flung at the stuck into a wall at the far end of the alleyway, appearing to be...some kind of sword?

His eyes followed the trajectory of the weapon to a man standing at a vantage point atop a building, dressed in spiked armor with multiple bladed weapons of different origins floating around him almost like a halo.  ”Scratch that. Looks like the fun came to me,” He managed despite the pain.

Marshall was caught off guard by the sudden 'boom' that shot past his face. The burning pain in his hands remained, but was now accompanied by a tenacious, high pitched whine that blocked out everything around him. The young man could barely keep his focus, even as his new teammate yelled and kicked a now headless meta into a nearby building. Stumbling lightly, the ringing in his ears disorienting him and causing his equilibrium to cease control for only a moment, he opened his mouth and strained his ear canal in an attempt to correct his balance. Marshall was able to collect himself, just as the being approached him. The sight of this being was new to him, but he could tell it was Miguel.... even with the altered physical look.

He listened to him speak, gruff but concerned, able to hear Miguel in there despite the rage he could feel emitting from him. "M-Miguel.... ungh..... you look..... wow.... what happened?" Marshall kept his footing as he looked to Miguel, feeling the burn fade from his hands slowly before he cracked a small smile. Despite what was happening, Miguel came to him and made sure he was all right, making Marshall feel somewhat comfortable and included.

The young man was about to respond to Miguel, however was interrupted by the sudden attempted push and leap that he performed. Marshall didn't budge, not even a little, even considering Miguel's sufficient strength, but watched as he was swiftly cut by an object he couldn't even see. The only thing he saw was a quick flash before seeing the blood that flowed from his arm. Stricken with concern immediately, Marshall ran to Miguel to aid him as best as he could, regardless of his lack of medical knowledge.

"Oh god, Miguel.... are you all right!?" His voice was filled with genuine concern, looking at the gash still flowing with his blood caused by the flash. This was something he wasn't prepared for.... the violence and destruction of this whole mess. Marshall was not a hero, he was a kid who wanted to be a hero, but he wasn't capable of such things. His heart began to race and his breathing became erratic, looking at his new friend as the blood gushed from his gash. The young man was in a slight panic, and completely unaware of the imminent danger closing in on them.

He would lean against the wall with Miguel, softly hyperventilating as a few more metas show up to continue their evil rampage. Despite his strength and clearly superior durability to these guys, Marshall was scared. What hit Miguel and caused him to bleed, he couldn't say.... but it was what was freaking him out so much. "You know.... I'll be honest with you Miguel.... this is my first time. I've never been in a... super fight. I don't even know what I can fully do yet.... I...... I shouldn't be here, shouldn't be out in the thick of it..... oh my god....."

Victor stared at his opponent for a long moment, silence stretching, before the man leaned down to lift his friend up, and take off. Victor took a moment to relax himself, before he retrieved his Mossberg. As expected, the barrel was crushed now, useless as a gun. With a sigh, the assassin moved back through the hole in the wall, to his rifle and glanced around. After a moment of silence, he lowered himself to the ground next to the rifle and ran his fingers over it. They hadn't touched it, which was good. He nodded to himself, and lowered his eye to the scope. A check showed that Miguel and Marshall were still alive. In fact, there weren't anymore Atlas-imposters near them. However, they were staring at a man dressed in spiked armor, with multiple weapons floating around him. Victor blinked slightly, and took aim. He squeezed the trigger, and watched as the bullet flew out, straight for the mans head, only for one of the weapons to fly up and take the bullet meant for him. The sword spun away, and fell to the ground with a clang.

"Well... Fuck..." muttered Victor as he re-loaded the gun. He took aim again, and squeezed the trigger, only to watch another weapon dart infront of the bullet.

Victor stared through the scope at the man for a moment, before swinging the scope around towards Miguel and Marshall. With a frown, he reached into his pocket and found his phone. He pulled it out and held it up infront of himself, only to groan softly. The last kick must have crushed it.

He dropped the useless piece of plastic, metal, and glass to the floor and stood. He stopped only long enough to close the ammo box, and snatch both it and the gun up before he turned and raced for the stairs. He went down three flights before he jumped the railing.

1, 2, 3... THUMP.

Victor glanced around, pushed through the door marked EXIT, and came out in an alley. He glanced around, and then started running, moving left to get around the building. Once he was clear of the alley, he stopped and glanced around.

Miguel and Marshall are there, he thought to himself, which means...

Victor peered to his right, and saw the man in spiked armor. He was focused on Miguel and Marshall, and, it appeared, hadn't seen Victor appear from the alley. The assassin nodded, and set down both the gun and the ammo box. He lowered himself to the ground, loaded the gun, and peered through the scope. Once he was set up, he glanced over at Miguel and Marshall. Had they noticed him?

Blood was flowing from his injury, stinging like a bitch but nothing beyond that. Marhsall seemed to sputter about his appearance, though that was just something that people did when they saw him. From raging hispanic jock to demon with similar look was something that no one expected. The concern towards his injury was equally expected, despite how little it actually hurt. Just another scar to add to his menagerie of scars dotting and lining his flesh from past fights. Some were surprised his tattoos went unbroken despite those scars. ”Oh yeah, definitely me. Though this is just a little scratch. Been run through before and that actually hurt,” He stated with a glower, considering the man in spiked armor who had picked them out for a fight.

Not the men that were flying around and shooting laser eyes but him.

”First time in a super fight? Huh, guess that makes sense with your whole cute thing,” He said with a sight, smirking at Marshall and looking to the blood soaking his palm. Their ordained foe descended from their rooftop perch, metallic boots connected with the ground and deadly weapons spinning around them like a pinwheel.

”Disappointing. I expected more from you and the demi-titan,” They said, shockingly closer to them with just a step with one hand extending to reach out for a jacked looking hand axe.

”Well kid, if you don’t want to fight now is it he time to run,” A longsword appeared within his hand, brilliant and gleaming with an unknown luminescence. Instincts were what drove him, swinging and barely batting away the weapon thrown his way and lodging it into the wall. His arm stung like hell, which meant he was a little outclassed through sheer force. ”something tells me this guy could kill us pretty easy,” Even still he kept his defensive stance as he trying to stand between Marshall and the sudden threat. He had no idea how strong the kid was, but he was feeling they wouldn’t be able to do anything against them.

”So, you want to face me. Very well young god,” When their swords clashed a shockwave seemed to reverberate from the impact. Concrete and brick cracked under the strain and he felt his body would do the same before falling into a flurry of well placed strikes meant to throw his foe off their guard.

All block and deflected of course.

Marshall never saw Victor, he was far too focused on Miguel and the gash in his arm. Despite said gash, he still managed to climb to his feet and arm himself against the ominous villain that was now right on top of them. The way his weapons flew around him, like a concentrated tornado, only made him all the more terrifying. The young man's heart sank as he looked over the villain, listening to his unnerving voice as he spoke. It was what he said next that struck Marshall deep.

'Demi-Titan......' was he talking to Miguel, or him? No, it had to be him he was talking to, Miguel didn't say anything about being a titan..... and the bad guy specifically referred to him as a 'young god'.

Fighting through his fear of the situation, Marshall felt he had to do something to help his new teammate, especially since he was already injured. After observing the villain for a moment, he made his way around him as he was focusing on attacks from his teammate, positioning himself behind the shady character but away from his blades. Marshall was tough, but those swords and axes looked scary, even for him. The young man stood his ground, stared straight into the direction of the big bad blade man, and put his plan into action. Clenching his fists, he swallowed once more before he began to speak up in a particularly sarcastic and demeaning tone.

"Oi.... Mr. Blades!" He paused for a moment, again, swallowing down his own fear. "... You have all those fancy knives, but can you fight without them!?" Marshall was laying the sarcasm on pretty thick, trying to intentionally make him step away from his blades. Unfortunately what came next, was not exactly what he had planned. The villain did react to his taunting, but instead by stepping away from his blades and keeping them afloat as they continue to assault the injured Hispanic god. Even without weapons swirling about him like a vicious hurricane, this man was incredibly intimidating, Marshall's heart sinking a little more as he casually approaches the young man.

"I like your moxxy kid, you're pretty ballsy, even for a demi-titan. I hear you're supposed to be pretty tough.... so why does it look like your pissing your diaper?" The young man's chest heaved as he listened to his voice, the words poking into his skin like needles. His fists were still clenched shut, letting the man get somewhat closer before Marshall swiftly brought up a closed fist. His hand made full contact with the villain's lower left abdomen as he easily crunched through the armour, his knuckles digging into the big guy's stomach for a brief moment before the impact pushed him back a few steps. A solid grunt left the man as he stumbled back slightly from the punch, his hand raising up to feel the hole Marshall now left in the stomach of his armour. After a few moments, the figure straightened up from his slight slump, lowering his hand once more to let the hole show, as if he didn't even care.

The ominous man made his way towards Marshall once more, walking as if the punch had no effect on him whatsoever. Only minutes before, Marshall was able to throw a meta like he was a cardboard cutout, but this guy seemed unharmed by a hard punch. The young man was frozen, watching as this terrible man approached him like a knight of death, here to collect his prize. A sharp scoff could be heard through the man's horned helmet, the face-plate tilting down to look down at Marshall, who was frozen in fear. "That is a damn shame..... you titans are supposed to be so strong..... you're not even a true titan.... just a child with a little bit of strength."

Marshall's eyes had only a moment to widen before the armoured man raised a leg and delivered a kick that Marshall felt throughout his entire body. It was as if a meteor had struck him square in the chest, a spiderweb of nerves shocked and charged with the sensation of agonizing pain in such an incredibly brief moment. The kick sent Marshall flying back across the street and into the shop adjacent to the alleyway he was previously in. It all happened so quick that Marshall couldn't even scream, his body slamming through several walls before a pile of rubble built up behind him and finally stopped his momentum, leaving him laying in the pile. Even as the dust settled and revealed a human sized hole in the wall, Marshall did not emerge. The kick was too much for him, he was unable to move for the time being.

With the man in armor distracted, Victor took aim. He was about to pull the trigger on his gun when Miguel and the man clashed swords together. He grunted and rolled to the side, managing to find his way behind a collapsed wall, as a shock-wave shot out from the fight. The gun and ammo box were both swept away, and Victor cursed softly. He stood and let his knives fall into his hands, as he peered around the wall. Miguel and the man were going at it, tooth and nail, and it appeared that Miguel was on the defensive.

Victor watched, waiting for the opportune moment, and saw it as Marshall pushed his way forward and called out the man. Victor crouched behind the wall, his fingers tensing and untensing on the knives in has hands as he watched. Marshall swung first, pulling his fist back and then hammering it into the mans stomach. The man stumbled backwards, and lifted a hand to the hole in his armor, before straightening up and advancing towards Marshall. The man spoke to the boy for a moment, and Victor took that as his chance. He darted forwards, lowering his knives to his sides as he ran. He jumped just as the man lifted his foot up and kicked Marshall in the chest.

As Marshall flew backwards, and the man lowered his foot, Victor landed on his back, bringing his knives down, and slipping them both under the helment the man was wearing.

"What's this? The Remnant shows himself, finally, instead of taking potshots?" crowed the man, as he raised a hand towards his helmet. He was too slow, though, as Victor gave the knives a sharp jerk, and pulled back and up with all his strength. The horned helmet came off with a clang, and Victor pushed off the mans back with his feet, to flip in mid-air and come down, knives up in a defensive X before him. The man turned to face Victor, and the cyborg tilted his head slightly. Short hair, 5-O'clock shadow, no scarring. Meta? Something else? Magic, probably, the way those swords react. For sure, super-strength and durability, if he can take a punch from Marshall,and then kick him through a wall thought the assassins, as he lowered himself into a crouch.

"If you don't mind, we're rather busy at the moment. Is it at all possible you could come back next week? We can put something in the books," remarked Victor, as he glanced around. Marshall was still in the wall, and Miguel was behind him, so he wasn't sure what was going on there. Victor frowned slightly, before he allowed his grip to loosen on the larger knife in his hand. He grinned, before flipping the knife around, so the blade was in hand. He lifted his hand up, and jerked it forwards, to throw the K-bar at the mans face. As he did, he dove to the left, falling into a roll. He came up with one of the swords in hand, his karambit in the other.

Miguel hated futil effort. Striking against a defense which seemed more ironclad than any opponent he had faced before. Each strike felt like he were hitting the very planet itself, no budge beyond the movement of a weapon to intercept him. It felt strange, knowing that he was unable to even push this person back with continually rising strength. Were they that far above him that he could just do this? Marshall, with his amazing strength seemed to do no better beyond manage to bust through the mans armor and hit the flesh beneath it. For a second he even got hopeful he was hurt but that was dashed into the wind.

Imagine watching him get kicked through a wall like a bitch. Now that was something else entirely.

”Okay, shit is just getting worse,” He grumbled to himself not even realizing until it already happened that somehow Victor had managed to remove the mans helmet.  He was a not unhadnsome hispanic looking man, though there was something else mixed in there.  A mailed hand snapped up to  catch the weapon thrown at his face and tossed aside. Miguel took a defensive stance alongside the man, wondering what the two of them could do against this man.  

”No interest in you or the child really. Just here for that one,” The armored man pointed Miguel out. He noticed the swords that were cycling around the man stopped spinning and sunk into the ground with heavy thuds,. ”take one. Any weapon you want. They’ll do better than anything that weapon could be,” Now he was being mocked. That was the end of it, he wouldn’t take any more of this mans shit. Without even thinking he gave into the burning sensation to ran through his body. An unbridled rage that felt as if it were burning every cell within his body.

Maybe that explained why he didn’t noticed the space around distort and blade shoot out from it, nor the  surprised look on the mans face before it twisted into amusement.

Concrete shattered under his feet from the push forward and blades keened as they were batted aside with a blade he ripped from the ground.  Each strike elicited a grunt from him, and he continued to just swing with all of the force that felt available to him. A flurry of strikes until he saw a small amount of blood being draw from a cut and then the strike that flung him through a wall. However that didn’t stop him from leaping to his feet and trying to  strike more and more.

”So, that’s what it is,” That was when the mailed palm slammed into his stomach, gleaming with an unknown golden radiance. ”but you’ll need more than that,” The taste of blood within his mouth and he was flying once again. Slamming into one of the Atlas men flying through the air and they both came crashing down to the ground a good twenty meters away. The impact didn’t hurt as much as before.

Victor grunted softly at the mans words, frowning at him. "If you're here for him, you're here for me," replied the assassin, as he swung the sword gently through the air to get a feel for it. He was about to dart forward with it, when Miguel and the man clashed in a flurry of sword strikes. Victor watched, waiting for a moment when he could be useful, only to duck as the armored man slammed a palm into Miguels stomach, sending him flying backwards.

Victor came back to his feet and lurched forward, swinging the sword in a flurry of strikes, all of which were blocked without effort. He felt the sword twist in his hand, and let it go, allowing the man to take the sword away. As he did, Victor brought his karambit up and around, straight towards the mans eyes. A foot also lashed out, aimed for the mans groin. The knife met flesh, and bounced back, as did Victors foot. The assassin leapt backwards, falling into a roll as he did.

Just in time, as the armored man brought his sword around and down, where Victor had been a moment before. The assassin came to his feet, crouching, his eyes narrowed.

"Yield, and I won't have to cut you again," he called.