Rumble in the Bronx (open to Pain)

(this thread takes place before :
http://superhero-rpg.forumotion.com/t3146-die-welt-gehort-dir-open

The Samaritan had just escaped the charade that was Seacove city, before returning to German though, he wanted to visit the Big apple just once before finally writing the US off all together. He had planned to do a bit of shopping, maybe hit some of the nicer restaurants, even take in some theater on Broadway. Instead, almost as soon as he landed, outside the Bronx, he caught wind of someone that didn't quite look right. This muscle bound street tough had the aura of someone that must be up to no-good. He had all the tell tale signs: tattoos, trendy haircut, and overly tight black T-shirt.

"Say there......What's your name and what sort of shenanigans are you up to?" The Samaritan called from up the abandoned street as he pointed an accusatory finger at Pain's back.

No idea what he was up to today, just needed to get away from everyone for a little and enjoy some solitude. Doing nothing alone was one of his favorite things to do, and a walk through the city seemed ideal. Lately the little time Pain had for himself has been reduced to nothing, his own place barely feeling like home anymore. He wasn’t cut out for any of this, Pain was born a lone wolf and will die one. Worked out better for everyone that way anyway, or so he convinced himself.

The Hero walked tall on the seemingly empty street with a bent cigarette hanging loosely between his lips. His attire consisted of typical blue jeans, a tight black t-shirt, and his favorite black leather jacket; left his shades at home though. Nowadays he brought that trashy old thing everywhere; a lot of memories were tied to that tobacco scented jacket.

Pain’s sluggish stroll came to a halt as he heard someone call out to him, sounded like a police officer. He didn’t even have to look back to feel the accusing eyes glaring at the back of his head. When he turned his head to look over his shoulder, couldn’t say he expected that. Some pretty boy dressed up in tights and a cape accusing him of being one of the punks he sought to deal with daily, he really didn’t want to deal with this crap right now.

“Piss off kid. Just wastin’ your time with me.” He said roughly as he turned his icy blue eyes forward, continuing on his sluggish journey to nowhere. Probably could’ve done a lot better with that, but he didn’t care right now.

"I SAID...... HALT, GODBLESSIT!" The Samaritan's goody-two-shoes came out when his frustration was at it's highest. It didn't used to bother the former boyscout but now it seemed to edge at him and he stuttered a correction: "I mean Goddammit."

The Samaritan lifted off and flew toward the obvious degenerate, his intentions were to grab the man's shoulder and cease any further forward momentum.

Pain allowed the man to stop him, and found his outburst to be a little humorous. He softly chuckled at him, slowly shaking his head in denial to the request. “I’m warnin’ ya. You don’t know who you’re messin’ with.”

The Big Guy paused briefly to exhale a cloud of smoke, just before lifting the man’s hand off his shoulder. “Back off.” He roughly warned before continuing forward once again. The hell was this guy's problem?

"Alright Sassy-pants....I warned you once nicely" The Samaritan scowled after being shunned off by the liberal-commie, tattooed punk. 'probably a JEW too' The horribly bigotrious thought popped into the Samaritan's head and for the life of him he couldn't explain where it had come from; but it was too late, his anger was already boiling and he acted out. The Samaritan reached forth to snatch the back of Pain's jacket, with the two opposing strength forces involved there could only be one outcome: a man made leather jacket torn to shreds, only the sleeves would remain on the wearer. It was a blatant act of aggression and it felt good; the Samaritan couldn't deny it.

Both warnings were heard and ignored. Both were a little humorous too, briefly forcing another small smirk on the Big Guy. This guy certainly wasn’t intimidating, he was more like a damn boy scout, least to Pain he was. It wasn’t until his jacket got involved that he did. The moment that man grabbed him again, he felt the familiar leather tear and knew his old friend was in danger, but he had no chance of reacting in time.

The jacket was torn into three pieces, leaving only the sleeves on the Big Guy. With his peripheral vision, he witnessed nearly the whole thing. Watching on in a calm silence as the jacket’s body was tossed carelessly onto the ground. It was almost like watching him murder an old friend. The anger built up within, and he didn’t want to suppress it. He wanted to kick this guy’s ass. Afterwards he’d find someway to stitch that piece of crap back together, but he hadn’t thought that far yet. Right now he was focused on one thing, teaching this boy scout a lesson.

Pain kept his back to his opponent, inhaling a final drag from his cigarette while he swiftly removed the sleeves one at a time. He held both in one hand, exhaling as he dropped it to the floor beside him. “Bad move punk.” He spat out the cigarette and spun around for a quick sucker punch aimed at the left side of the man's face.

Pain had little idea of what this guy was capable of, strong enough to easily tear off his jacket sure, but to handle a powerful punch from the Big Guy? Not a gamble he was willing to make. Pain held back, but put in just enough strength to easily knock an average super human out cold.

The Samaritan was about to start scolding this punk for littering but when the first punch came in and caught him on his jaw, he found that this street tough had more than meets the eye. The suckerpunch wasn't that fast, but the Samaritan wasn't expecting it, luckily the Samaritan hadn't touched down and was still hovering just above the ground when the power blast struck him. If he had been planted on the ground, he may have been knocked out with the single punch, but with no friction to hold him in place he went flying off in the opposite direction.

The Samaritan's head slung back, and just for a second he was dazed, when he came to he was hurdling toward an abandoned industrial building. His body crashed through the cement wall and into several large machines. The Samaritan was no only pissed off, he was enlightened to the fact that this street tough was also obviously superpowered; which meant one thing, he didn't have to hold back.

Blue electrical sparks started to erupt from the super'hero''s eyes as his anger grew. He hoisted one of the several ton pieces of machinery over his head like a child's toy. Once again he lifted off, straight up through the ceiling which now finished caving in the building. The Samaritan soared high into the sky with the massive chunk of metal. His plan was simple, steer this thing down on the Hebrew hooligan's head and send him six feet under, but not just that, he would infuse the piece of metal with electrical charge the whole way down as he kept his target in his sights.

When the punch connected and his opponent blasted off towards a luckily abandoned building, Pain immediately realized he had gone too far. “Shit…” He let his anger get the best of him, feeling like a complete idiot as he watched the man smash into the industrial building. It felt good to hit him, but it surely wasn’t worth it; it never was.

The Big Guy left the remains of his jacket behind for now, letting out a deep breath through his nose before moving towards the damaged building. Despite disliking the man, he still worried for his safety. Had to check on him, get him to a hospital if he needs it, but Pain was in for a big surprise.

The boyscout blasted through the rooftop, causing massive structural damage to the building. So the hovering was more than a trick, this boyscout could fly. He seemed perfectly fine, just really pissed off. Not many could shrug that off so easily, this guy was one tough son of a bitch. Above his head he carried a massive piece of machinery, clearly showing that this man had extraordinary strength. Even from this distance, the electricity in his eyes was obvious. Pain returned the glare with his own icy blue optics, holding his ground and preparing for whatever he had in store.

For now he took the defensive, watching carefully for his opponent’s next move. The brief stare down came to a close as the boyscout blasted down towards him. Most would get the hell out of the way, but Pain continued to hold his ground, planting his feet and confidently bracing for impact. With a loud bone cracking, his hands opened up and readied for the catch. He couldn’t allow anymore damage to the city, this was his fault; dodging was not an option.

The Samaritan wasn't in control, it was a strange feeling, he could observe what was going on but something else was definitely in control. He maxed out and slammed the huge machine down on the punk but amazingly he stood waiting hands raised. The unstoppable force hits the immovable object, we all know what happens; the man made object gives way and smashes sending huge chunks of metal in every direction. The super sized shrapnel slamming houses in the nearby ghetto neighborhood, While the pavement gave way under Pain's unbreakable form.

A huge guttural roar came out of the Samaritan's mouth as he came face to face with his opponent. Blue lightning coursing out of his mouth, eyes, and nose. The Samaritan had a haymaker punch drawn back and ready to unload.

As he expected, blocking the attack was no problem, but there was little he could do to prevent the damages to the city. At the very least it didn’t seem too bad, but if they continued here in the streets more destruction was unavoidable and someone would surely be hurt. Pain could not allow that.

The machinery was charged with electricity, though it had little effect on the Big Guy, he was surprised to see how much this punk could do. Electricity briefly zapped from his hands, he glanced at them but didn’t feel a thing. Due to his hesitation, he failed to put up a proper guard and was struck by a heavy punch. His feet were planted, but this boy scout could pack a punch. Pain was sent sliding back several feet, but he held his ground. Wasn’t quite enough to make him bleed, but he certainly felt his attack that time.

Pain swiftly recovered but waited to put his guard up, rolling his neck before speaking up. “Not bad…I’m sure you wanna’ kick my ass, but I ain’t fightin’ you here.” The Big Guy tried to avoid making the same mistake twice, if he was charged he would be ready this time.

"Well I am not going back to what ever drug-house you crawled out of, so here is as good a place as any" The Samaritan said. His voice was now different from when he'd first spoke to Pain, the boyscout was missing and now something ancient and vengeful utilized the superior vocal cords.

The Samaritan's next attack was trying to swoop in and grab the junkie. He was planning to take this opponent up in the air and see if he couldn't make it out toward the ocean. "Fine, you don't want your crackhouse wrecked? Let's go for a swim!". But first he would have to get in close enough to grab him, that was going to be the tough part. He would use his Electrical power again for a distraction, it may not hurt the tattooed punk but it might distract him long enough to grab him and get airborne.

Pain would have preferred he said otherwise. ”Take a look around.” The two fighting here was dangerous, but he wasn’t about to let this punk get the upper hand. If he had no choice, he would fight him here and hopefully draw the fight to a junkyard or something. The boy scout moved in on the attack, but his electric abilities were easily blocked by the Big Guy.

When his opponent swooped in attempting to grab him, Pain dropped his block and threw an open palm out in defense. This time he used a significant amount of strength, attempting to deflect his enemy with a mighty palm.

The Samaritan swooped in and could actually feel his fingers start to grab the tattooed punk but then was caught be surprise. 'Deflect' indeed, the stiff arm Pain threw out carried the momentum of a speeding freight train. The Samaritan's head snapped sideways and he shot off in a slump again. This time it wasn't an abandoned building, it was one of the low income houses that scattered the area. Thankfully the houses owner, or atleast the man squatting their was already standing in his front yard at the time, assessing what damage the previous chunks of metal had done. When the Samaritan exploded a massive hole through the man's wall. Debris went flying and although the shabbily dress black man wasn't hit by anything he used to commotion to fake injury, tossing himself onto the ground and yelling: "Awwwww.....muh back.....muh back....ooooh dear god muh NECK and muh back!!!"

But the theatrics were interrupted when the Samaritan emerged from the crumbling house. He reached up and wiped blood from his lip....It was one of the few times he'd ever seen it. "You made me bleed.....I am going to make you regret that.....punk" The Samaritan flew again straight at Pain, both fists outstretched.

Pain watched on in frustration as more destruction was caused by their bout. It was only a small home, but even in his anger he felt guilty for it; it just kept adding up. Best he could do was end this as quickly as possible; couldn’t mess around. The Big Guy remained stationary, expecting the boy scout to get back up just like last time. He hadn’t even noticed the bystander until he heard his faux cries of agony, it seemed like an obvious silly act to him. Pain ignored the man on the ground and kept his focus on the wreckage, keeping his distance and patiently waiting.

Seconds later the boy scout emerged from the debris, hovering above the wreckage as a brief stare down ensured. Pain slyly smirked as his opponent wiped his lips, first blood was on him. “Bring it!” The Big Guy barked out in reply as he assumed a wrestling stance, his legs shifting further apart and his hands powerfully opening up with a loud crack. As the boy scout approached with both fists outstretched, Pain put his hands out like a blocker. His intentions were to allow an attack and counter with a grapple. When the fists were to collide with him, he would wrap his massive arms around his opponent and yank him down to the ground with him in a mighty slam.

The Samaritan again met the unbelievable resistance when the two collided. To be honest, The Samaritan hadn't ever felt anything like the feeling of having his powered outmatched. Pain caught the Samaritan and when he slammed the boyscout to the ground it only deepened the crater they were all ready in.

Pain was strong, stronger than the Samaritan, but he still only weighed so much. The Samaritan allowed Pain to keep ahold of his back but lifted off and shot into the sky. If pain planned on letting go, the Samaritan would have an uppercut primed and waiting. His plan was to take the apparently flightless villain toward the Ocean, see how well he swam.